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CEYLON MAGAZINE

No 1,

September, 1840.

Vol. I.

THE READER.
No. 1.
Stat nominis umbra.
it standi the shadow of a name."
Lucan,

THE shadows of the names of the mighty in intellect havo

been thrown upon their pages by the most interesting, and not the
least instructive of our English authors, the Essayists. The names
of Addison and Johnson alone would give dignity to any species
of composition, however apparently trivial. They have done more.
-They have given perpetuity aud fame to the essay on manners,
morals, religion and literature : and so long ait the English lan
guage shall last, will the Spectator and Rambler find a place upon our
shelves. Indeed the whole of the forty -five volumes of the British
Essayists, edited by Mr. Chalmers, comprises perhaps the most
delightful work in any language. In the historical prefaces and
contents of the volumes which assign almost every essay to its pro
per author, we find the greatest names that have dignified human nature,
and enriched our language. Scarcely a subject of amusement, or of
importance to our species, is left unhandled. Tf we pass to the collected
works ot our great men the very essence of their spirits is discovered
in the form of the essay. The greatest philosophers and statesmen have
delighted in this outlet of the deepest, and the sweetest and pur
est waters of the mind. Need I mention Bacon,whose inimitatablc volume of essays, containing a mi:ie of wisdom, was pronounced
by the late Mr. Burk% no incompetent judge, to be the finest

t 2 )
Wttrk of that gTeat man,and **rd Clarendon,and Sir Wiliiahi
Temple ? This delightful composition has been revived in our own
day, but,save in one instance, by the playful and profound author
of the Essays of Elia, the amiable Charles Lambe,hot with the
case and graceful self-possession of the elder essayists. Elia re
sembles " the melancholy Jacques " ; and in bis lightest moods, or
" sullen fits," he is " full of matter." We have had the " Round
Table," and " Table Talk" of Hazlitt ; and" the admirable Essays of
" The Friend," by Coleridge, designed rather for the thoughtful
and philosophical student than for the man of the world.
Who then, it may be asked, would dare, or attempt to tread
in the steps of such men ? Surely no one, if he think to rival
those great masters. Casting away any such idle pretensions, art
humbler mind may pardonably, and even commendably, desire to
entertain, and perhaps to instruct his fellowmcn by a species of
composition, in itself the least presumptuous. If this and successive pa
pers shall but induce those who may peruse them to go to the
masters of the craft, instead of novels and newspapers, they will
not have been useless in performing the humble office of mak
ing their readers familiar with those incomparable authors.
Such, gentle Reader, is the sole object of one of yourselves,
I would suggest to you the best of books as your best friends. I
would have the young draw water from the purest fountains in
their youth, that they may have within themselves the source of
one ol the sweetest solaces of old age :
" One sip of which
Will bathe the drooping spirits in delight,
Beyond the bliss of dreams, Be wise and taste."

"For \books," says Milton in one of his most beautiful prose

works *:"are not absolutely dead things, but do contain a pro
geny of life in them to be as active as that soul whose progeny
they are; nay, they do preserve as in a vial the purest essence
and extraction of that living intellect that bred them. Many a
man," he adds, " lives a burden to the earth, but a good book
is the precious life-blood of a master spirit, embalmed and trea
sured up on purpose to a life beyond life." Indeed I know not
anything more important to the healthy growth and expansion,-*

/*'"-'

* Ajuofaoitica. A speech for the liberty of ualiceaaed printing.

I 8 ]
jnoral, religions, and intellectual, of the minds of the young,
than to have for their favorite authors, even in mutters of taste,
such writers as to meet " the master spirits ami living intellects
that bred them," in the world ol spirits, were itself "a consume
nation devoutly to be wished." Such are the matchless writers
in our " well of English undefiled,"both in prose and verse,
such as the works of our great Milton himself, and Sbakspcare,
Spender, and our elder poets, with one or two modern names,
and in prose, the essays and other ethical and, literary works of that
mighty mind, Lord Bacon, together with Clarendon, Temple, Steele,
Addison, Johnson, and the other essayists, and in a word the long
line of the aristocracy of English intellect. Our language is also
rich in translations of the ancient poets and prose writers of anci
ent Greece and Rome, and the exquisite bards of modern Italy,
Spain, and Portugal.
Of books such as these, not neglecting THE Book, the.
BIBLE, in all senses the- best of books, as of real
friends, we find, as we advance in life, so few that cling to us,
and we to them, that it is one of the most desirable things that
our literary friends he such as will cause us t,o blush only, if
at all, from the consciousness of our own inferiority.
I might add that the love of reading itself is one of those sweet and1
innocent recreations which becomes the greatest, and often
the only pleasure of our lives when the evening of old
aye is at hand. It is recorded, by Spcnce in his Anecdotes,
of the poet Pope in his declining years, that " as much
company as he had kept, and as much as he loved it, he loved
reading better; and that he would rather be employed in reading
than in the most agreeable conversation." The same love of read
ing is avowed by the historian Gibbon, in his own Memoirs,r
alas! that he had read one Book to better purpose! and by the
late Alexander Knox of Dublin, in, perhaps, the most interesting
work of the day to thoughtful and serious men, the " Thirty
Years Correspondence," between the late Bishop J ebb and himself.
If I might add my own testimony to mat of these great men,
I would affirm that the secret converse which we hold with our
silent yet eloquent books, is the source of the truest delight that
Tc can experience. They are as the good angels that cheer onr

C * 3
Solitary hours with blessed and peaceful thoughts ; and like
" the Seraph Abdiel, faithful found
AmoDg the faithless, faithful only thej."

the serenity they bring along with them to our troubled spirits,
is next only to that which is imparted by '*a conscience void of
offence." They are a fresh and ever salient spring of pare and
unalloyed pleasure ; and they are ever in the power of a gentle
and a thoughtful mind.
One thing yet remains. The elder essayists have felt, and have)
confessed, that, when they began a periodical essay, " to give the
thing a name were wise"but that it was difficult, Every succes
sive writer perhaps has labored under the some difficulty, which at
last has been overcome rather by accident than design. When Dr.
Johnson had actually begun his first paper, he knew not, as he
confessed to Sir Joshua Reynolds, how to name it. He sat down
on his bed-side, and resolved that he would not go to sleep till
he had fixed its title. The Rambler seemed the best that occurred,
aud he took it. lie expresses the same difficulty in the very first
number of the Idler, a paper in many respects more interesting
than his Rambler. " Those," he says, " who attempt periodical
essays, seem to be often stopped in the beginning Jby the difficulty
of finding a proper title."
To assume any of the names, hallowed by genius and by time*
every one of which " stands the shadow of some mighty name"
stat mayni nominis umbra,
were less an instance of presump
tion than a kind of fatuity. In accordance with the humble
design of the present paper, it was hoped that The Reader
would have been a new name. But the indefatigable Sir Richard
Steele, the father of the English essayists, once began a paper, as
Mi. Chalmers informs us, entitled "the Reader." Whether it was
literary or political we are not told ; but it was most probably po
litical. Tliis paper, however, seems to have shared the fate of things
which, as Lord Bacon wittily expresses it, are sunken by time.
" Time" says that great man, " is like a river which carrieth down
things which are light, and blown up, and siuketh and drowneth
that which is sad and weighty." As, therefore, this paper, which
I suppose to be a " sad and weighty" political one, loaded with
Jead, instead of being winged with the genius of its lively writer,

has not been borne down to posterity on tbe river of time, I think
myself justified in retaining ihe title of The "Reader.
There is another disadvantage, under which " the Reader" comes
before the |Hihlic. The Tatters and Spectators, the Ramblers, the Ad
venturers, and the Idlers, appeared so frequently,some ever)' day, ex
cept Sunday, and others twice, or thrice a week,that they laid fast
hold, of the affections of their readers. They were hailed as old
and familiar friends; and as such they were lpved perhaps for
their very weaknesses and faults, when deficient iu. their wanted solidity
and yirtne. I appear but once a month. Instead of niy appearances
being hailed as "angel visits," it is to be feared that I shall be
coldly welcomed even in a tropjeal climate. I shall have the cold
constraint of a monitor to fetter mc, instead of the genial warmth
f frequent communication to set me at my ease.
" Gyves shall I wear, and cold shall be my comfort."
With, tbe best grace, however, that I can ussume, and with the un
feigned^ disposition to make myself agreeable, I appear,. I make
no specific promises. I bind myself to. no positive engagements*
I promise only to do my best to please my friends, that is, all
my readers.: and \ will endeavour to instruct them when opportunity
offers; lor \ shall sometimes bjs serious. I invite all lovers, of
books a,nd pjf knowledge to aid me by their, correspondence. My
speculations will be on bopks and men, lor they are inseparable.
Books are the spirits of dead men which survive their authors, and
the essence pf the quickening intellects of those who yet live and
breathe the upper air. \ exclude only all personal themes which
smack of ill, nature. I would be at peace, and keep my readers
and myself fro.m all " wars, and rumours, of wars,"public or
private, political pr personal. I would rather throw oil upon the
waters of the tempest of life, and conclude with our immortal
Bard, the swan of Avon, at the close ol his "Tempest:
" I'll promise you calm seas, auspiiious g.ileB."

And thus, trying to please and to be pleased, will

" My little Boat
Rock in ito' harbour, lodging peaceably."

t Q I
SHE TWILIGHT OF LIFJ^

T IBB InlTO.

*Ti a beautiful thing tp see the dawn

Of reason in childhood's early morn,
.And to watch it's growth, as each cheering rayBursts on the mind, and chases away
The mists and clouds which have long hung o'er
The infant soul that must deep no more.
There's not in this world a more beautiful sight
Than to see Youth walking by Virtue's light,
With an honest- step having care to shun
The tempting voice of the evil one:
Thirsting for knowledge and eager to leant
Those heavenly things, which so sweetly turn
The heart and the soul to the temple of Truth,
Oh! this is toe holiest work of Youth.
But it is a pitiful thing to see
Fair childhood steeped in iniquity:.
To see human nature so soon begin.
It's downward course in the path of sin ;
To behold how the early hours of life,
When the mind with health and vigour is rife.
Are spent by our fellows, who reckless sow
O'er the fields of, the future the seeds of woe.
Yet, say, should we nut our voices raise
To tell tbem how dark are their evil ways 7
Oh ' yes, for it were not well that all
The weak, without aid from the strong, should fall.
And though their hearts may be harden'd with pride,
Though tbey heed us not, but our words deride,
We will breathe a prayer that in after years
They'll efface their sins with repentant tears

Tis a fearful thing to see an old man

Mete out the last of his mortal span,
With a sinning hand, and a hardened heart,
Clinging to earth though he soon must part

r T t
from life and its pomps, while his fleeting breafB
I* not spent in prayer, but in scoffs at death.
Pity is felt for a young beginner,
But none for the aged, hoary sinner;
For it sickens the heart to hear the tontn
Of old age with caths and blasphemies strung.
To behold Ban thus is an awful sight,
When the brow is wrinkled the hair is white;
When the blood is chilled, the eye grown dial,
With gasping breath and tottering limb.
And why does the old roan's locks turn whits f
And why does a film obscure his sight?
Why totter his limbs from spot to spot ?
Ignorant mortals and know ye not,
They are solemn warnings in mercy sent,
The handwriting of Death,it says, repent.
Thrice happy is he who the warning notes
With a contrite heart, and in peace devotes
The twilight minutes of life's brief day
To his God and soul,to hope and pray:
To direct the wandering steps of youth,
From the paths of err.ir to those of truth*
To tell the sinner of mercy and love,
And to shew the weary their borne abovo,
Tis good to see an old man abido
Th' appointed hour, without fear or pride.
For we know that Death is the lot of all ;
We know that the grass and the tree must faVL
We know that the gardenblossoms decay:
And we know that the wild flowers pass away.

t s 3
I
BRIEF NOTICE F
fcoTH

ANCIENT

AND

MODEBN,

THE PHILOSOPHERS,

POETS, ETC.

WHO HAVE FLOURISHED AMONGST .THE TAMILS It

THE SOUTH ot INDIA -AND CEYLON.

Si Simon Casie Chittt, Eso,

It la much Ao be regretted, that no tpc.i-.1s Of toft lives of the Fhilosopliers and Poets of antiquity iu India have been left to posterity either by
them, or their contemporaries, and hence we are much at a loss for' correct
information respecting their birth, country and the age they lived in. Some
of the Puranai indeed profess to give an account of a few of them, but it
is f>o replete with fables that it scarcely deserves even a perusal. The brief
notice which is here offered of Agaslya, and his contemporaries has been
framed chiefly from the traditions current in the South of India, and it is
hoped that it may prove acceptable to (he public.
1. Aqnstya. This eminent Philosopher was born ia the South of India,
of Brahman parents. Nothing certain is known of the time he flourished.
According to some traditions he lived only 500 years ago when the Kings
of the Pandiya race were masters of Madura ; while others make him a
contemporary with Rama, and the heroes of the Ramay&ntm. He claims
precedence of all the literati amongst the Tamils, as he was the first Who
laid down rules concerning the grammar of their language, and is also, like.
Hippocrates, considered " the father of physic and prince of physicians." It
appears that in his time the people in the south of the Peninsula Were
sunk into a state of barbarism, and the fable which is related of his having
made the southern part of the earth level with the northern, perhaps alludes
to their civilization by him. Agastya spent the greater part of his life on
the mount Podiya, near Courtallicnn, and composed an infinite number of
works on various ubjects; but in the lapse of ages many of them have
perished and we have only twenty-five remaining.
On
On
On
On
On

Theism
Enchantments & Medicine....
M etaphysics
the Materia Mcdira
the purification of Minerals..

1
I
1
?
1

On
On
On
On
On

various deseases
Occult science
Chemistry and Alchemy
the pulse
Incantations and religions rites

7
2
2
1
2

2. Ttreiyen. A pupil of Agastya, who having attempted to overreach him

in the art is said to have been discarded by him with a malediction. He
has left several treatises on medicine; but his prescriptions are on the
whole considered empirical.
3. Tirvmooler. Little is known of this sage, even of the place of h nati
vity. He is numbered amongst the eighteen celebrated ascetics of India,
and there is a work of his remaining, called Vytiya Vagniiam, which treats
of the symptoms of deceases, and of the diet that ought to be observed
luring the administration of medicine, and consists of 2,000 stanzas.

(To be Continued.)

POETICAL SKETCHES
OF THE INTERIOR OF THE ISLAND OF CEYLON.

Part I.

BY THE Ret. B. BAILEY, M.A.

aEXlOB COLONIAL CHAPLAIN OF TBS I3LAKD 01 CETLO.V.

f The utmost Indian Me TAPROBANE."

Wilton. Par. Ileqd.
000

I.
INTRODUCTION
I, who have wandered where fair rivers glide
TbroughFrance's Tine-clad valleys,to beguile
One dear and patient sufferer with the smile
Of nature ever beautiful)beside
Bold mountains now am journeying. A wide
And varied amphitheatre of hill,
Ravine, and jungle,-forest, in this isle
Of beauty, and sublimity, and pride,
I view. Deep valleys, where both flower and tree
Blossom and fade unseen,whose streams are M
From hills, by distance hung in mystery,
With lucent waters,and the silent shade
Where the huge elephant sleeps peacefully,
Around me now are prodigally spread.

t 10 3

n.
CEYLON.

In Eastern climes these wilder beauties alow,-*

" The utmost Indian Isle Tapbobane."
He who would feast his spirit blamelessly,
The world of sense and worldly joys forego,
And feel the sabbath of the soul, may know,
Amid the might of mountain scenery,
And all the glories which the eye may see,
How to be blest, or soothe his bosom's woe.
Here Nature's hand so curiously hath wrought
Her web of wonder, beautiful and bright,
That even the spirits of another world
Were with the sense of admiration caught,
Which now my grosser spirit doth delight,
And from me hath my darker feelings hurlecC

III.

KANDIAN BOUNDARY.

Mart those few spare and spiral cotton trees,

On either side the road, a natural gate :
You now are in what was the Kandian state ;
Whose despot wrought, his sullen soul to please,
Dark deeds of blood and horror. Yet the breeze,
Is soft and balmy. When the tyrant sate
In self-willed sovereignty, on whom did wait
All other wills obsequious, with like case,
On breathing wings mild airs invisibly
floated as uow ; soft Beauty reigned supreme
O'er Nature's serene face ; Sublimity
Was throned among the mountains, lone and high ;
God's Angels, as in visionary dream,
Trod Heaven's high ladder, lost in the blue sky.

t " '1
IV.
WARAKAPALI.

Abc,ve the neighbouring hills one mountain stood ;

As a tall column shooting from the base.
It looked a sovereign rpek, whose frown could chasa
The clouds when on his brow they wished to brood.
One side was shrowded with thick jungly wood,
Which hung like hair around his giant face,
Whereon, with blackness weather stained, no trace
Of gentleness was seen. And nothing good
And loveable did this dark hill inspire :
Its blackness seemed the action of fierce fire,
Rather than impress of the softer rain ;
Huge stones, as gloomy as their awful sire,
Lay at his feet, like infants.

Surely in ire

B.eavcn's drops with darkness did this mountain stau%

TALIPOT TREE

This tree is crowned; with a tall spiral flower,

^'o indicate that, like the sun's last ray,
In its bright beauty it will pass away ;
Asserting over death uudying power
In that light crest, like on aerial bower,
Which is the presage of the tree's decay.
It is the image of that glorious day,
AVhen spirits shall inherit the blest dower
Of immortality, and end the strife,
The grief, the turmoil of our earthly state.
This flower, although it be about to fade
Away and die, presignfies the life
Which, fearless, can defy death's darkest hate,
And will survive lite uouj of the dead.

t 1* ]
XL
KADEGANAYA PASS.

A mountain pass! Before the wondering ere,'

Wore distant and involved than can be viewed
By the intensest gaze,behold these rude
And rugged mountains, and this cloudy sky
To such huge masses fitting canopy,
lllack clouds upon the mountain summits brood;
The mountains on the cloud-wrapped sky intrude^
Peep thunders mutter loud and angrily.
Bere human hands have cleft the massy rock
Arching above. Around is spread the ruin
Of primal beauty. Here the fountains broke
Of the great deep, avenging human crime,
Creation's works of loveliness undoing,
By stroke of the 1. r l :.\.u, not of time.

vn.
KANDY.

Tis twenty years since t beheld the throne,

Of Kandy's captive king. I had no thought
Of that which time and sorrow since have wrought;
That in this idol city, sad and lone,
To soollie my grief for a dear spirit gone,
The lot of life would cast me. Dull, untaught, .
And savage was this king; or he had caught
Some loftier feelings when the bright sun shone
On this majestic scene that round me lies.
The hand of nature scooped these \ allies deep ;
The Voice of God bade those tall mountains riseJ
A holy calm broods here, and loves to keep
Still watch iu this lonc-dell, whose gentle sleep
Is soothed, not broke, by bird's sweet melodies.

13

PART I.
Notes.
1.
T shall not attempt a prose description of a country, which has already
been partially described by Or. l)vy and others, and which will become
Triors- familiar to European readers generally, as it is more known to in
dividuals. The traveller takes his reader along with him every step of his
Journey. The sketcher professes only to go from spot to spot, and to invite
the attention to such objects only u:s have peculiarly forced themselves upon
himself, which have given birth to reflection or emotion, or have excited
the fancy or the imagination. To illustrate his te\t is the duly of the
writer of the forgoing verses ; to do it unconstrained]}' in the form of notes,
his privilege.
H And the silent shade,
Where the huge elephant sleeps peacefully."
The Author, of Rasselasthough I did not think of the passage when the
above was written speaks similarly of the elephant.
" The sprigl\tly kid was bounding on the rocks, the subtile monkey fro.
licking in the trees, and the tolemn elephant repoxtno in tile tlutdt. ('Imp.
I. In the Italian translation, the sound of the words is more pleasing
to the ear. '.' II grave elefautc riposiado all 'ouibru."
The habits of the Elephant, however, are not thus solitary. He is
precarious, and is never found alone, except when driven from the herd ;
and then he is dangerous. Elephants are wont to repose in herds in open
spaces, especially at night. Their tracks are frequent, in this gregarious
habit, in the interior of this island.

II.
V The utmost Indian Isle Taprobane."

Tapbobahb was the ancient name of Ceylon among the Greeks and Ro
mans. This has, indeed, been controverted; and the name of Taprohaua
has been assigned to Sumatra. Ancient coins, however, found in, Cey
lon, prove it to have been one of ihe Roman marts of commerce. It u:as
doubted by the ancients whether Taprobane was not the beginning
of
another continent. It is not improbable,- Iivin the narrow and shallow strait which
separates the northern extreoiily of CeUon
liom the Koutbern extremity
of the continent of Indiu, that Ci.-yion m;s once purt of that coutho-iiL
limy* has recorded what was known :n his iiuic of the ancient Taprobaiu.
He affirms, on the authority of Oucsicralus ai:u MegaMhenes, that it pro
duced elephants larger ami more warlike than any countries of India ;

Hist. Xat. vi. 22,

p. 309.

Elzevir: Edit. 1635.

"

\hn>. it was diviAVd by a river; and that the ancient inhabitants vera lief
er in gold and brge pearls than the Indium* " Onesicratus classis ejus uraefectus, elrphantos ibi
majores bellu'osioresqnc, quam in India gigni
scripsit: Megasthescs flumine dividi, incolasque l'aloeogonos appeliari, aur^
yiarjniitmiimjite
arandium fertilfortt, quint Iniivx." The^Elephaiils 01 Cey
lon ai-e, I believe, confessedly larger than any in India, or in any part of
thu world, perhaps, except Africa. Hirers are common to all countries.
The description is vague in this respect ; but the geography of the in
terior could not be correctly ascertained by strangers. Gold perhaps there
was hj forjuer times in, tae island of Ceylon. Bill the peart* arc a mora
p. culiax produce: and tile pearl fishery is a principal source of revenue at'
this day. Sumatra, being a part of the Aarea Chersonesus, doubtless pro
duct quid. But there are no pearlt in those seas; nor is Sumatra cele
brated lor its elephants, This question is fully, and I think satisfactorily,
discussed by Dr. Robertson in his " Historical disquisition concerning anciout India." He comes to the conclusion, "That the Taprobaue of the
ancients is the Island of Ceylon; and not only its vicinity to the continent
but the fci.m-.-al torn) of the island as delineated by Ftojomv, as well as the
position of several places in it, mentioned by him, establishes thjs opinion
with a <rreat degree of certainty." [p. 81, 84, 8ro. London 1809.] See soma
very excellent remarks on the ancient Taprobane in Histoire et Memoires de
1' .lusriiut Koyal de France. Classe d' Ilistoine et de Literature Ancienna
Tom. I. p. 117. Paris 18.15.See also Tom. X. p. 222, et aeq. and Gibbon'*
Rowan Empire, vol. ir. p. 142, note 6, 8.vo, Edit.

in.

Wd begin with the Kandian boundary, as the commencement of tha

Interior, lip to this point, however, the country improves at every step from
Colombo. The Kandiati Wiundary is nearly forty miles; about half way be
tween c'olombo and kan.lv. The road, formed uuder the Government of Sir
Edward Barnes, and under the direction of Captain Daw-son, to whom a
monument is erected on the road side not far from Kandy,is a9 good as
eon be constructed. But the boundary of Colombo is no sooner passed
than there is a visibly rapid improvement in the scenery. The boldness
nf the Kaudian country at once commences. Except in Switzerland, and
tue rooTO elevated regious of Europe, and the Hymalaya mountains, bolder
scenery, within so small a circle, can scarcely be found than in the terri
tories of the, late king of Kandy.

IV.

Warnkapoli hill is the first striking object. It meets the *ey immediately
on passing the boundary. It breaks abruptly from the base. It is in /act
a vast black rock. One side is abrupt and here; the other is covered with
jungle. The blackness appears to be the effect of the humidity of the at
mosphere, oiid of the rain ; the stone being apparently soft and porous.

X w )

'' The Talipot tree was of frequent occurrence, and we saw one specimen*
of It in blossom. This noble palm has been the subject of a good deal
of fabulous story". It has been called the giant of the forest, but, like
the Coooanut tree, it is never found wild. Its blossom is said to burst
forth Suddenly, with a loud explosion ; but it expands gradually and
quietly. When its flower appears, its leaves are said to droop and bai%
down, and die ; but they remain fresh, erect, and rigorous till the fruit is
nearly ripe, and their drooping precedes only the death of the nee, which
speedily takes place after the ripening of the fuH. E*en the disogreeablsness of the stilell of the flower has been exaggerated greatly. This pulin,
Z,j>Mfo spinoM, the largest of the order, has a circular fan leaf, from twen
ty to thirty feet in circumference. Its flower, which it bears once only in
Its life, is a conical spoke, occasionally thirty feet high/' Davy'aJ }nUrior of Ceylon, p. 416.
To this account it need only be added that of the leaf the natives
taake fans, and construct light airy, rustic ceilings to house*. The flower
hoots out and upward from the top of the tree, and forms one of ttut
most beautiful objects imaginable; I saw two or three in the road on aj
first jouruey to Kandy.

VI.
JCsufegtmava is a noble pass. In one part it is cleft through the rocC
A lofty ridge of mountains and rock is on one side, sometimes precipitous and
perpendicular; on the other, deep and dark dells beneath, frowning with
jungle and forest, which the eye cannot peuetrate. It reminded me,by
the vastness of the objects and the cleft rock,of the fine mountain gorge
of Ollioules, near Toulon. But at Oilioules there are scarcely any, if
any, trees; and the grandeur arises from the nakedness and desolation of
the scene. Here, the de!ls are darker, deeper, and more mysterious from the
shadowy effect of the jungle, and forest trees. In these deep valleys or
dells, there are, I am ,old, some of the more valuable woods with which
this beautiful island abounds, such as ebony. A thunder storm made the
scene more impressive, {as I descended from the, carriage and walked up
the pass.

m.
I have said that twenty years, had intervened between the periods when I
aw the throne of the king of Kandy, and first "' visited his capital. I find it
about nineteen years. The Throne was sent to England, I am informed in
1819,and it was, I think, in that year that I saw it in the armoury at
Charlton house. I first visited Kandy in 1834. It it now 1840.

<t 16 h
N THE AFFINITY BETWEEN THE MALDIVIAN AND
SINGHALESE LANGUAGES.

*0 tHB XDltOB OF THE CBTLOK MAOiZI*8.

Sib,My ohject in sending you the subjoined list of Maldivian and Sin>
gbalese words is to invite the attention of Singhalese Scholars to the affinity
*xisling between the two languages that the subject may undergo a full
investigation by them. I therefore trust you will not refuse it a place in
Jour forthcoming periodical and oblige.
Yours Faithfully,
SIMON CASIE CHITTY.
English.
The Face;
The kyebrows.
The Nose.
The Lip.
A Tooth.
The Tongue;
The Haud.
The Finger.
The Nail.
The Stomach.
The Foot.
Sun.
Moon.
Slur.
Day.
Night.
Earth.
Sand;
Wind.
Smoke.
Rain.
Horse;
Cow.
Hen.
Parrot
Fish.
Tree.
Flower.
Hoot.
Salt.
Sugar;
Bed.
White.
Black.
House.
Door.
Pillar.
Stone.
To Sleep.
To Sit.
To Spit
To Laugh,

Maldivian.
Moonu.
Booma.
Nepai.
Toopai.
l>ai.
Dhoo.
Hai.
Inghiri.
Niyapati.
Bandu.
I'atila.
Irru.
Handa.
Tari.
Dhwal.
Regandu.
Him.
Well.
Wa.
Sum.
Wan.
As.
Gheri.
Kukul.
Gura.
Mas.
Gas.
Ma.
Moo.
Lonu.
Usakkuru.
Being.
IIuilu.
Kalu.
Gay.
Doro.
Tambu.
Ga.
Nida.
Irriuda.
Kiiliyaha.
Heeiiiye.

Singhalese.
Monna.
Es li. ma.
N ahaya.
Tolpota.
Dat.
Dhiira,
Hata.
Enghili.
Niyapota.
Bada.
Patula.
Irra.
Handa.
Taru.
DawoL
Re.
Bima.
Weli.
Wata.
Duma.
Warusawa.
As.
Gheri.
Kikili.
Girawo.
Mas.
Gas.
Mol.
Mala.
Luna.
Utsakkam.
Ilatu.
Sudu, Hudn.
Kalu.
Gay.
Dora.
Temba>
GaL
Nida.
IunawA.
Kelegauawfe
Hinaweuawa>

if

6RTGIN OF BUDDHISM.
1W THREE
tO

LETTERS FROM THE REV. It. GILBERT,

SIR WILLIAM

COI.F.ISROOKE,

COMMUNICATED

BT

THE BOK'BLE GKOBGF. TURSOL'B, Esc}.

TO THE EDITOR OF THE CEYLON MAGAZINE.

. Sir,Ta a periodical for which the designation of the Ceylon; Maoaztse

tas bsen selected, discussions having for their object the illustration of tie
antiquities ami the ancient classical literature of Ceylon could not, at any
time, it confined within due bounds, be deemed inappropriate ; while at tlia
preseut moment these researches derive an especial importance, and excite an
extent of interest ainonp orientalists and antiquaries, produced' .by the rec nt
discovery of the <uicient alphabet of India, of which few persons, who are
not themselves engaged in the same pursuits, are vet aware.
Mr. James Prinsep, the distinguished orientalist to whom the literary
world owes this remarkable achievement, as well as many other important ser
vices rendered in the wide field of Asiatic research, was interrupted, in tho
midst of his brilliant. and successful course of discoveries, by- loss of health
occasioned by too intense application, of his mental powers. He was compell
ed consequently last year to return to Europe whither bis fame had long
preceded him ; and the last overland mail has brought the mournful intelligence
of the final close of that promising career. These alone call form an adequate
conception of the magnitude of the loss which Ihe cause of .oriental research,
aas sustained by the death of Mr. James Prinsep, who have had the direct
benefit of being instructed and i.iclcd in their own inquiries by the compre
hensive annulments, iu science as well as literature, of his active mind. I
believe I may safely say that by no one has that loss been more sensibly
felt than by myself. It is, however, to that accomplished scholar Sir William
Jones that the honor is due ofhuying laid the foundation of oriental research.
locally among our countryman in India. But his own labors, as well as
those of many eminent orientalists who succeeded him. all tended, , in tho
most disheartening manner, to prove that in a country, whii h even at a remote
period of antiquity hd attained an advanced state of refinement in literature
as in the arts aiid sciences, and which still professed to possess historical
records extending back to the earliest ages, every essential evidence of authen
ticity, as well as all coherence based on chronology, hud been obliterated;,
and that in their place an inexplicably mystified compilation, purporting to
be historical annals of great antiquity, had been substituted.
i' European inquirers, in this perplexity, naturally turned to those pages of
the western authors which comprise the narration of the eveuls of the fourth,
century before the Christian era, for the purpose of discovering whether any
ooincideiK e existed between tlie names and the events of the reign of iho
particular monarch who swayed the Indian sceptre at the time of Alexander's
invasion of India, and to whose court htjld at Palibothra, Megasthenes, Am
bassador of Seleucus was deputed, and any Indian sovereign mentioned in
Hindu authorities. Such a coincidence, both in name and in personal cha
racteristics, was not wanting. The name of the Sandrocottus of the Greek
and of the Chandragupta of the Sanscrit authors presented no other nor
greater difference than the peculiarities which those two languages would ordi
narily produce, fn personal history the identity was indisputable, both having,
nnder similar circumstances, usurped the Indian empire.
Beyond this iden
tity, however, this interesting discovery, made by Sir William Jones, furnish
ed no useful result. It ooght, if the Indian chror.blogy bad not been deranged,
to ba\e afforded a connecting liuk between the two chains of Asiatic and
European chronologies. But no such parallel could be established - as ac
cording to the Indian chronology, Chutidragupta flourished nearly twelve hundred
C

18

years before Alexander ! I need hardly add that such vitiated record's possessed*
no value, as containing historical data, in tho estimation of European investigators'
Oriantalists nert sought, but souglit equally in vain, to decypher the exten
sive and numerous inscriptions which were still preserved, with .singular dis
tinctness, and nearly all in ttie sumo character, engraven on monuments of
antiquity scattered over various and widely separated parts of India. Not
only had all attempts to decypher those inscriptions been buMled, but no
information could bo obtained even as to the age in which ttiat alphabet had
been known to surrounding nations. From a Maliomcdan writer it was ascer
tained that in the reign of l'eeroz Shaw, in the fourteenth century, lb>iy
" were literal characters which the most learned in all religious had been,
unabb to explain." It was clearly proved, therefore, that the kuuwledge of
this alphabet hud been lost long anterior to that age.
The discovery of motiveswhether produced by religions or political causes
of sufficient importance to occasion the systematic mystification of the histo-.
rical anuals of such a civilized country as India has manifestly been, would
be the solution of an important philosophical ouesliolij and, though less
important, tho rational explanation of the circiHustauc.es by which the know
ledge of any particular alphabet could be lost by t people, who have always
boasted of their pundits or learned men, who from- generation to generation
had lived among these monuments, and who had preserved uninterruptedly a
knowledge of the various dialects of the language (though the form of the
letters underwent a succession of changes) in which these inscriptions are com
posed, would net be much loss interesting.
It is not my intention, nor do I consider myself competent to enter upon
ertbe-r of these inquiries. Connected with them, however, I may here briefly in
troduce a few liistorieal_/rtcft', which are accessible to every reader however superficial, '
and which will serve to lead me back to the ancient classical literature 01
Ceylon; and to an illustration of the inporlauce of Mr. James Prinsep's dis
covery, from which I have digressed.
From a remote antiquity, involved in the obscurity alluded to in llie pre.
coding remarks Asia has been distracted by a struggle for religious supremacy
between the brahmans on the one hand, and the Imddhists on the other.
While the brahmans were in the possession of that supremacy in the sixth
century before the brth of Christ, a prince of the name (in Pali) of Siddhutto,
tho son of a subordinate reigning sovereign, Suddhodano, of that portion of
India which borders on the Ganges, then called Magadha, assumed the charact"r of the last Hit Mho whose religion it is whfn'u now prevails in Ceylon.;
lie promulgated' his doctrines in that dialect of tire Sanscrit language which
was peculiar to his own' country -hence called the Mag.tdhi, and, also, from
the high state of refinement it hail attained in that age, the Pali language.
From that period buddhism gradually gained ground, until the close of tho
fourth century before Christ, when Asoko the emperoi1 of all India, called also
Piyalassi, th<; grand son of Alexander'* cotemporary Sandrocottus became a
convert to that faith, lie immediately deputed, in the fervor of recent apostacy, missionaries to all parts of Asia, to propagate his new creed ; and in tho
samJ capacity of a buddhist, ordained, missionary he sent to Ceylon, Mahindo
one of his own sons, who arrived here in the, year before Christ 307. Asoko
erected also in various parts of India, religious edifices and monuments; on
many of which he inscribed the doctrines of his now faith, and recorded the
acts of his piety and religious munificence.
The succeeding emperor of India, however, reverted to brahmanism, and gra
dually the hrahmanical faith resumed its supremacy in continental India--leaving buddhism predominant, as the religion of the state, in Ceylon, and in
the regions to tho northward of the Himalayan chain, and to the eastward of
the Burhampu'ra river. The religious animosity of the brahmans made tbera
spar", no pains in continental India in vilifying all that appertained to buddhism,as well as in disparaging, as a provincial jargon, the Pali language in which
its doctrines were written. Their own sacred and classical language was the

19 ]

?arwrit, anil in that language they have preserved their records,' involved how,
dvtr us regards history,' in the inextricable mystification referred to above.
The independance of Ceylon from Indian rule rescued its autheulic buddhi*ical literature which hud been brought from India, from brahmauical des
truction, and the native historians of Ceylon, uninfluenced by any motives, reli
gien - or * political, for confusing the evidences of history subsequent to the
aYtveiit til'.tne lu> Buddhu, continued to record with chronological veracity the
narrative of their own historical events to modern times. The existence, how.
ever of these valuable, works, in so authentic and connected a form in Ceylon
* as not generally known till recently, as the claims preferred by the buddhist priests in behalf of their native records were rejected by Europeans, with
a disdain which would hav<i beeu unpardonable, but for the published results
of the investigations, made by competunt parties, of similar pretentions in India.
To obtain, however, the recognition among Knropeans of the authenticity of
their histories, nothing more was asked by byddhists than an impartial examin
ation of tlieir contents'. Often had I been drawn into discussions, on this deeply
interesting subject, with 'the well informed among the "priesthood in this Island,
wLcu I was only acquiring their vernacular language to serve as a medium
of communication. In those discussions I h^ro noticedhow impenetrable waa
the darkness in which Indian events, and the identity of Indian monuments
of antiquity were enveloped -how completely all collateral record of the in
cidents connected with the invasion rof Alexander had been obliterated ; how
entirely the literature, which haij been' manifestly extant when Megastheues
was deputed tu the court of Sandrocottus, had, peen annihilated or prverted ;
and with what discouraging disappointment all attempts to identify the age
in which, and the rulers by whom the great works of antiquity scattered over
In, hi had been achieved, were baffled. The simple answer has always beeu :
- -Learn to read our Pali works: you may not find all that your European
associations may suggest ; but in those works you will find the history of
India from the advent of Buddho to the establishment of his religion in Ceylon ;
caoipreheuding a term of three hundred years, embracing' in it the very period
of Alexander's invasion which you seek; containing, mnreover,-tbe history of
the conversion of the emperor of all India to buddhism, as 'well as thu
stupendous results that ensued therefrom ; and, above all, comprising' a con
nected and authentic history of Ceylon from the establishment of buddhism
iu this island to piodern times.
'
'
In these assurances there was something almost dazzling, in the flood of
light that was promised to be let in upon the unbroken gloom of the pre
vious darkness ; and yet these promises making due allowances for lhe pre
tended prohpecies and miracles of Buddho, and of his pretended inspired
disciples, us well as some trivial chronological discrepancies, --have bem
realized. It has been myhuaihle endeavour to give to these records all the
publicity in my power; and the medium through which I sought to afford
that publicity was the Asiatic Journal of Bengal, of which Mr. James Prinsep was the editor. The data contained in those contributions furnished, at
the same time, to my late friend, collateral matter for his own more general
researches;in the midst of 'hich, by a most extraordinary coincidence, ho
decyphered the long lost alphabet of the ancient inscriptions of India. By
that discovery, tho>e inscriptions, which have survived the effects of the elements
and of political convulsions for upwards of two thousand years, were made
to bear direct and unimpeachable testimony to the authenticity of the Ceylon
Pali literature. They proved to be the monuments and the edicts, composed
in the Pali language, of the identical emperor of all India, renowned in,
buddhistical annals, who had become the convert to, and had spread buddhism over,
almost the whole of Asia!* In those inscriptions were, moreover, found liio names of
" Since this letter lias been sent to the press, I have received by the Emma
a note from the Cape, from Mr. Wathen, recently chief secretary at Bom
bay, who says " previous to my leaving Bombay I had almost succeeded in
d,'-,\],li\Tiru,' the Salsctle inscriptions, which proved <o have beeu executed un- .
d.er the auspices of the same king as those of Mr. Prinsep."

r 20 3
Antigonus, Antiochne, Ptolemy and Maga, proving tlicrr-by thnt, in his zes.}
to extend the mild and benevolent tenets of his newly adopted creed, he
had Bought the co-operation of the rulers of Bucuiuua and of Kgypt,
Mn<-h vaime and hypothetical discussion may, perhaps, he avoided in your
Magazine, by those who may desire to illustrate in its pages the results of
their inquiry into the native' literature, by being furnished with a guide tc the
authentic portions of those records ; and although I despair of being able id
find time to recast what I have written before, I Mill willingly, if you de
sire it, allow you to reprint in your periodical, my contributions regarding
Pali annals which have appeared in the Bengal Asiatic Journal, a work not received,
I believe, in Ceylon by euy one but myself.
In the meanwhile I place at your disposal a series- of letters, the com
position unquestionably of an accomplished scholar in western literature,
recently forwarded to me by Sir William Calebrooke,.now governor of Antigua,
and well known here as one of the commissioners of eastern inquiry.
The author is the Rev. Mr. Gilbert, the colonial chaplain of that island,
and the letters contain his views on the supposed origin of buddhism.
I shall reserve my remarks on these interesting notices for a future occa
sion, having already trespassed too largely on your limited space.
I remain, Sir,
Your obedient humble Servant,
(Signed)

George Turnoub,

Colombo, %d August, 1840.

Extract from the Rev. Mr. Gilbebt'8 letters to Sir William Colebrooke.]
Gilberts' Antigua, May 3rd, 1839.
Ml Dear Sra,You very kindly intimated that if I had any suggestions
to make on the subject of Mr. Tumour's oriental researches, you would com
municate them to him. I have accordingly put down a fey? hints on the
nature and origin of Buddhism, which, I now inclose, and will thank you to
make whatever use you think best of them.
,
,
The derivation of the name buddhist is I believe new. It is at least so
to myself, for it was only yesterday morning that the thought occurred to me.
What I have written, therefore, must not be considered as intended, for the
critic, but. for the amateur, The coincidences, however, are striking, and may
at least lend to something better and more definite. If X had the real orien
tal names of Buddh, Buddhism, and Buddhist, as written in. the east, but in
the Roman character, it would tend to throw light ou the subject. It is not
the oriental mode of pronunciation, but of trritmg the words that I wish
for, and perhaps you may have it in your power to aid me in this respect.
The connection of astronomy with religion appears to be coeval with creation
itself, when the heavenly bodies were appointed " for signs, and tor seasons,
and for days and for years,", and we find that as early as the time of Job
this connectien bad by one portion of mankind at least, been degraded into
idolatry, and the sun and moon had become objects of adoration. This, there can.
be no doubt, was the, origin of the Sabean idolatry, which consisted essenti
ally in an ascription to the heavenly bodies themselves of that influence, and
power, of which they were only ordained to lie the chronicles' and signs. The
originators of this idolatrous system were, in all probability, individuals of tho
line of Shem, who settled in Ur of the Chaldees, from which place Abraham
was afterwards called, and instructed in tho worship of the true God.
Another division of the same family the descendants of Elam, the eldest
son of Shem, and the founder of the Persian dynasty, appears to have mi
grated farther to the east, and to bare carried with Lheui a purer system.

21

The connection of astronomy with religion was still retained, bnt no 'idolatrous
worship was puid to the heavenly host. With this purer worship purer mdrality appears to have pri vailed, and the only visible emblem mudc use of was
ihttt of lire, which was kept constantly burning ; ami as lire on the altar of
Jehovjh was never suffered to go out, we uiuv feel assured that in those early
ages, such a custom was not inconsistent with the true worship. This I con
ceive to have been the origin of the tUu;jiaH religion; and although the
science of astronomy was s-ion degraded into that of judicial astrology, yet
there is every reason to believe that the knowledge and -worship of the true
<iod was still retained and practised by the Mayi. The wise men, who came
from the east to worship at Jerusalem, are expressly called by St. Malhew
* M'tyoi ; and in the book o? Daniel we learn that he was made by Nebuchad
nezzar " ui&ster of the astrologers" or according to [the Septuagint Arclumla
ijifivn. i .

It is probable that the Magian religion was further purified by being sub
jected to the authority of so enlightened and pious -an individual as Daniel; and
it is almost certain, that be very considerably extended the knowledge, which
the Magi possessed of the connection really existing between the movements
of the heavenly bodies, and the great chronological epochs of the world. The
two leading prophetic era* of the book which bears his name are the periods
Of 1260 and of 300 years; and these with their difference of 1040 years,
are the most perfect, indeed the only round numbes which form cycles of the
sun and mobn. So accurate is the last of these numbers that at the expira
tion of 1040 years the- sun- and moon return, within less than 2 minutes
of a degree, to their original positions.
We have undoubted evidence to prove that the Magian or oriental morality
or science "(gnosix) was of a pure and elevated character. Mosheim says that
!' the tirsi principles nf the orirt 111 phihscrjihy (the name by which he distin
guishes the Magiun from the Grecian doctrine,) seem perfectly consistent with
the dictates of reason." He afterwards gives a full and detailed account of
the tenets of these philosophers: nnd they appear to agree in the most sur
prising manner, with those contained in the tablets of Piadasi, as lately
deciphered by Mr. Priusep and published in the Asiatic Journal.
From this Magian morality I suppose Buddhism to have derived its origin;
and we are thus enabled to account in a simple- and satisfactory manner, for
the superiority and sublimity of its doctrines. In its progress through the East,
it doubtless became contaminated with the. differtnt religious systems which it
found already existing, and also more or less accommodated itself to the local
circumstances and social peculiarities of the communities through which it
passed : retaining however its humane and inoffensive character, and greatly
improving and exalting the institutions of all the nations which ultimately em
braced it.
'.'
.
i .
i
The origin of the name of Hudilhisl I conceive to be the same as that of
the Bedouin Arabs. The word in Hebrew is written budvd, and is translated
by the Septuagint Keclwrismenos. It does not occur in the Old Testament as a
verb, but Paikhurst says that in Arabic it signifies *' to. separate," and that
from their dwelling alone and roving in the deserts " the Bedaiee or Bedouins
had their appellation. "
This word is synonymous with tutzur, the- root from
which the designation of the Nazarite is derived, and which Aquila translates,
by another compound of the same Greek verb, hurizo ; aud hence it may be
understood, like the littler, to imply a religious or spiritual separation from
the rest of mankind.
It is remarkable that Balaam uses this identical word to indicate the dis
tinction between the children of Israel and all the other nations of the earth
" so the people shall dwell alone, {a: uvt lubudud ishnkun) and shall not be

In the absence of Greek and Hebrew types, Koman characters are unavoidably

med. [Ed. CM.

.[

22

reckoned among the nation*."

This privilege the .Tews constantly abnsnd,
ami in a spirit of pride were ever ready 10 say to others " stand by thyself
jroine not near me, tor I am holier than tltott." It is plain tliut a similar
Spirit of scif-i i^iiteiiusness has always ..been, and is to this day, a striking
characteristic of (he religious morality . of the east.
It is also worthy of remark, and corroborative of the observations already
imvie, that .the linen, of which, the garments of the l*e-vitical priesthood were
directed to be made, is called in the Hebrew (tr/) ;, and wheu we recollect
that the " fine linen" .is distinctly declared to be emblematical of the righte.
ousneiss of the Saints, there can be little doubt but that the word . was un
derstood to imply something of holiness in the separation which is indicated.
Indeed, in Leviticus, xvi. -1., where the dress of the high priest, in which he
was to enter the the Holy of Holies is decribed, it is ixprossly called .ho
"holy linen" [kudush bud) iinum sauctitatii.
.
-,. ! '
The origin of the name of Buddhist is almost placed beyond the possibi
lity of doubt, when, we reflect that there actually occur two passages in the
writings of the Jewish Prophets, where this word is used to designate some
species ol diviner or astrologer, although ju our English translation it is ren
dered by the word " liar." The first of. theso passages (Is. 41. 25.) is as
follows " that frustrated the tokens of the liars, (budim literally Buddhists)
and makt'th diviners, , nje.d, .that turneth wise men backward, and maketh their
knowledge foolish." The other is in Jer. 00, 36; A sword is upon th
Chaldean.), eajtb, the Lord, And, upon, the inhabitants of Babylon, and upon
her princes, ami upon her wise men. " A sword is upon .the liars (budim)
and they shall dote. A sword is upon her mighty men and they shall be
dismayed." It) ea"h of these passages we find the budim or Buddhists
actually identified by the prophets Isaiah' und Jeremiah with the Chaldeans,
diviners and wise men of Babylon, aud therefore we are certainly entitled
to draw the conclusion that they were persons exercising a similar profession
and authority.
V ...... From the prophecies of Daniel there is every reason to believe that the
Magian religion spread itself throughout the whole of the East;, and if Mr.
Turnour should have it in his power to throw any light upon this subject,
and would boar it in - mind - during the prosecution or" his chronologicul re.
searches, he would confer a great obligation upon me; and it might also bo
the means of throwing q, new and unexpected light not only on- various pas
sages of Scripture, but on the past providential dispensations of the Almighty
towards the great mass of mankind, and on those prophetic anticipations of
future happiness even in .this world, which, appear to be alike congenial to
the inhabitant* of the east and of the west.:
.,.
(To be Continued.)
Nr B. My meaning may not be very apparent in saying that kechorismenot and aphurimnenos. are derived from the same Greek-verb, hinizo, us the
former of these is generally considered to be a simple derivation of churis.
This however I look upon as only a partial derivation of the word, and that
it may be more correctly considered as a compound of upo and horiza. A^
ail events both words are correctly rendered into Latin by sepuraius.

t 2 ]

Ey the Hevd. J. G. Macvicab.

Titibk is no one who derives advantage from the modern improvements of
Aiaehinery more, than the traveller. 1 01 tune Speut in travelling, in so iar at
least as it is merely travelling, is just so much stink from existence; and the
fastness and facility with which one can now accomplish the longest distances
Adds much to the value and in a manner to tile length of life. How great
is the change in tliis respect, within the last few years! It is not yet a cen
tury since there was ouly one Conveyance Between the capitals of England
and Scotland. It bore the strung nuino of "The Armory " (or Aluma as
it would be called in this country) and it was three weeks cm Die road f
Tlie seme journey is now performed in 30 hiurs and coach after cojich andtrain after train ore constantly rolling in during all the four aixl twenty.
Nor this in England only. The American1) are not behind us.. And several
of the nations of the continent of Europe are following rapid'}' in our fnoUlepa,
Kay, although it is no easy matter to effect any change in the East, \et this
improvement in the case and re.te of travelling begins to be tell very sensibly
even in India. I\ot to speak of the establishment of. regular msil conches in
this Island, so much to the convenience of travellers between Kundy, (ialle,
and Colombo, and so much to the credit of those who had the enterprise to
set them agoing, England and India now seem nearer by half their former
distance, in consequence of " The Overland "---us the route by the Mediterra
nean ami the Red Seas is rather preposterously called.
Besides the
regularity and dispatch with which correspondence may now be conduc
ted in this way, the traveller, instead of a tedious
and uninstructive
voyage of four or five months round the Cape may follow by this route
a line so pleasing and so improving that it carries him successively through
Paris, Home, Athens, Alexandria and Grand Cairo, the very places of mT
the world the most interesting and the. best worth seeing, whether we view thorn
in reference to their past history or their present stare.
Nor does this
cost more time than the other way. On the contrary, if oiu; must
come to India he may save a goixl month by coming Overland, yet
so as to allow himself ample time not onlv to see the places that
have been named, but also to visit the Pyramids and see ull that is to'
be seen about Bombay and the islands of Elephanta and Salsette.
Tlie author having performed this journey very recently proposes to lay
before the readers of the Ceylon Maoazi.ni! some of the observations which
he has made. His object is to endeavour both to avoid those common-place details of
the road, which arc already amply stated in many books by many tourists, and
trt find something to say which without being very grave will not be altogether
uninteresting or uninstructive to the reader. But to begin.
London
Whett leaving for India' by whatever route almost every orie comes to Lon
don. And ere we leave that city now, let us just ask where we shall see its like again !
Linneus the celebrated Swedish naturalist making use of a botanical figure
aid beautifully of England that he looked upon it as the kernel of the whole
world. And with respect to" London its capital, an English gentk-nmn made an
exceedingly good remark tod Frenchman, when he was boasting (not without
truth) that Paris was the city of cities, and not the capital of France only
but of all the continent. A Granted" said the Englishman ''"but London is the capi
tal of the whole world." This is very near tlie truth. Positively there is no
thing like London to lie seen any where. The noble Thames with its docks,
wharfs and countless shipping the endless variety of streets with their im
mense masses of architecture on all hands-- -but above all, tlie energy of tho
English character, which fills with a tide of lite every street and lane, end
drives every chariot, coach, omnibus, waggon, cart, man, woman, child, all iu
double quick time 'and all without confusion any where (though not with
out much ratUiugj and not a little running at the croseings sometimes through too

2*

BTueh mod,) (he silent aofid granicur of the West end with its no; handsome
equipages, mm] princely mansions and their noble occupants, -the wealth and eommrrceof the city with iu most ante but thoughtful and even anxious looting
merchants and bankers make London stand out from amoug ciuea as the great
est by tar. But let me not attempt to describe a bat n.usi be seen.
London it however an awkward place for one just from the country. The
rami inin.f can scarcely withstand the enc->iter of the London dozen. The latter
ha* Vk> mwh quickness to be able to wait for the other.
He is also
too wicked not to enjoy an occasional laugh at bis erpence, " Go home and
tell toot mother to buy yr-u a penn'orth of widc-awaife ' sejd a' little London
rogue to a simple boy of hi* own age from the country, when the urchin
was just beginning; to look round hrm, after having been twirled off
the pavement, not without a push which was as good as a blow, though it
would not tell equally in the Police office against the aggressor. Now the tittle rascal's
remark is well worth remembering. (Joe really needs penn'orths of wide-'
awake in London. Not that Loudon is a dishonest place when compared
with others. On the contrary the honour of a Ixmdon merchant is eminent-
ly that of a gratlecran ; and the shopmen generally, lay down before the
purchaser such prime good articles, and in a manner so independent and yet
so civil, that if there is a satisfaction in spending money any where it is in
London. One may easily have his pocket picked however in the streets ;
and this needs to be remembered, ITiere trc also plenty cf beggars on the pavement,
particularly at night, who will nut return you a .sovereign if you happen
by mistake to give a pound instead of a shilling. Iu fact London is a
very bad place. And yet I tblnk it is ur)on the whole a better place than any other
large, city in Europe or America. If there is as much that is as bad aril some" things
that may be worse, there is also t great deal more that is good.
Paris.
But as London is at home let tis leave it at present And let us suppose that
we have started on our route to India and have already reached Puna. This
may be ao easily and cheaply done in a variety, of ways at all seasons that
(hey need not be specified. It is worthy of remark hbwever, that the Indian
traveller 011 arriving in France is. obliged to turn out all his Indian luggage
at the custom house and to pay duty for much v. en of his personal wearing apparel.
If he have much' luggage ulsn the extra-charge for it when he takes it in
the Diligence along ,Mth himself soon com^s to be as costly as his own.
ticket. It were desirable therefore where that could be safely done .to send
luggage direct from London to Malta by the straits" of Gibraltar. . Some
travellers indeed prefer this route to comiiu down through France ; but for one who
has not previously visited the metropolis of France, it is a great pity not to do so. Of
all the cities of the continent, Paris is by far the best worth seeing. It is also possible
to he seen by a stranger, which is more than can he suid for either London or
Edinburgh. In Edinburgh the family principle is so strong that litule is
vjsible to the stranger hut the nutsides of t>e houses and 0" their inhabitants.
All display of character is reserved for the private party or family circle. -And
in London though placos of pnblic resort are more frequented than in Edin
burgh, yet it is the way with the better sort of people to appear in public,
only when m.r|ucd not masqned, after the manner of our continental neigh
bours Ind'-ed, during the carnhal, who for this pur]Mse wear pasteboard faces
over their own, but still masqucdthe features being kept al;ogether iinmovc.-.
able even during the most humorous or the most touching scenes. , This noncha
lance in pnblic is a very remarkable feature in the English character. It is
very open to censure ; but it argues great self-command, and gives tin aspect
of superiority, calculated to command ureat respect. Hut what we have here_ to re
mark respecting it is, that it excludes the stranger, unless he bare access to the fami.
ly circle, from learning any thing at all of the lights and shades of the English
character. It is quite otherwise in France, and especially in Paris. 1 nstead of being
almost exclusively under the inlluence of the family principle as the Scotch and En
glish arc. the Parisians lovo places of public resort, and are in fact never
cohtvut at home. The city ami the drama arc in France what the family'

[
**

25

]
'.''(

a>l the fireside are in England. And when in the morning a Parisian i
anticipating the pleasures of the coming day, his thoughts much more readily
take the turn of the restaurateur's, the Cafe, the Boulecards, the spectacle*
than of his home or his wife und children. But while this is too obvious
to be concealed it is also certain that in Paris as well as in other parts of
Prance there are not uufrequcntly to be seen, the most beautiful displays of
family affection and the most liberally constituted families. It is no un
usual thing to seo there, two or three families consisting of all those relatious which are most e.pt to give birth to jealousies amongst us, living- most
happily and harmoniously together. These however, are exceptions to tiie
general rule ; and it is true that the family priuciple is far too feeble in Fraa e.
por the traveller however, it is well that it is so. Fur in consequence of
this, there is scarcely any place or scene from .which he finds himself ex
cluded. Nay in many cases he does not even require to enter in order to see
what is going on within. All the facility which plate glass can afford is often,
granted to permit him to see as he passes along the street full many a
scene, to which his observations could not extend in England without
a, particular introduction. In consequence of this slate of things a stranger in
Paris soon ceases to feel himstdf a strapper. And really, what with the Boule
vards and the Galleries, Restaurateurs, Cafes, Soirees, Concerts, Spectacles, Courses
of language, literature, science and philosophy, and reunions of all kinds, Paris
of all places in the world is the most animating and the most instructive or the
most destructive according to the manlier of life which the traveller choses for him
self while there. One may observe there a complete development of humanity
in its every sphere, of action, thought and feeling. Not the sensual only nor tho
Sensual and the intellectual together, but the moral and the religious also
arc found in fine developeineut in the French' metropolis. Those who aro
Christians in Paris pre most decided christians ; and the churches there possess
several preachers of first-rate piety itnd eloquence.
As to these things also the
stnto of the city and I believe of - the whole nation is improving from year to
Twir. It is indeed trrre that the French have not yet recovered, nor wjll they
toon recover from the shock which every good principle sustained during the'
last century, and which took its outgoiugs in the great revolution.
But yet
it is as obvious as it is pleasing, that during the present century a change
most favorable to morality , .and religion has been steadily going on. Philo
sophy has also been assuming u nobler form. That low systeT> which preAttiled about the beginning of this century, and which is by the French them
selves well named sensualisme, Iras now in a great measure given way to a far
higher philosophy, which respects revelation as well as reason, and reason as
well as sensation, and which views man as consisting, of a soul as well oa
of a body, and as dcstinVd for eternity as well as for time. The old materi
alism does indeed still lin-;er in the writings of h" few medical men, who
naturally tend to fall into this system in cons< quence of the body being the ex
clusive object of their regard. And in the physical section of the institute there
aro still a few daring unbelievers. But the French people as a whole have
reaped much fruit from the errors and crimes of their fathers; and France at
the present dny is a fine, illustration of the mighty and cheering principle, that
it is the txpross work of Providence to bring good out of evil.
It must be confessed however that the French, at least when compared
with their neighbours around them, arc of a temperament peculiarly unfavou
rable to religious impressions. The natural temper and spirit of a French
man is the very reverse of the devotional. Gaily is his element. He scared
con find a medium between vivacity and the, desire of death. The French
are however a peculiarly acute people, and tho reflective part of them have often
ftuch love and even power of analysis that, now they have taken that turri
they appear to me to promise to be soon as eminent in mental philosophy
as they have already proved themselves to be in physics. For if they do not
possess the same depth of thought that is to be found in Germany they ara
greater masters in precision of thought and the philosophical use of language;

t 28 1
These pleasing corisiderctionW however do not meet the eye of the travel*
let tn he passes through,' and the author gives thein as the result of
former observations made during a residence of nearly two years ia
fiance.
In every great city the pious aud the philosophical art but'
the few, and that the most retiring part.
The many who meet the
eye ure every wnvre of another stamp ; and in Paris one would think ou
passing through that the entire population v.'as wholly given up to pleasure. And
certainly the French have curried to au exquisite height the gratification of each
individual sense. In Paris there are not only artists to minister to the en
joyments of the eye bv paining and sculpture,' and to the car by the music;
but the palate also has its " Artisles," and a thousand recherche dishes in
the cart" of the restaurateur show to what a pitch of reimepient eating, or to use their
own language the science of gastronomy, is carried. It is very strange however that
while all these luxuries are lavished on Ihe other senses the nbss'doesuot meetwith
even ordinary respect. Of nil places in the world Paris is the worst for
bad smells. It is also remarkable that no such thing as comfort is known
in France. Tin1 eye, the ear. the palate each individual sense ; is pampered
hut still thai regard to the well-being of the whole physical man which when
successful gives ihrnfart, is not to he found in Paris; nor indfed tuilil the
other day when th<-y borrowed the English word, did the languag- of the
French possess a term by which this agreeable state of feeling could be expressed.
With respect to its architecture, Paris may bo called a picturesque city ;.
and some very successful attempts have been made of late, as for instancein the Rue Vivienne, to maintain the picturesque in the fuendes of new
houses. The King of the French has quite a taste lor architecture ; and many
immense Hotels and piles of building have been reared since 18o0. Butt
the church of the Magdalene outshines them all, and indeed every other
building in Europe for beauty and elegance. It is of the form of a Greek tem
ple, aud is one of those striking objects of which the chamber of deputies,,
the palace of the 'i'uillcries and the Arc of the Etoile are others, which
terminate in different directions the most beautifal view from the Place da
Concorde.
(To be Continued.)

SKETCHES OF KEN AND THINGS.

BY THE EDITOB.
000

" A cltieVt amtrng ye (akin votes,

An faith he'll prent it."

The
(jo'.'ti'i

present paper is not intended

pulpit-oratorswhich

as a sketch of our principal metro*

would extend to a goodly volume,but as an

oti.lino of seme of the most noted ministefs* of Dissent, attempting

to give,

with a description of themselves and their auditors, a faint idea of their pecvd'-Mrities

of style.

In order

to do

this the

there

cft'i rtually

they are

nmlc to speak on the same subject, and the writer iiaving listened to them
ery

frequently,

yrorl, he his

is able to give to each, language which, almost word for

heard

Br>to': ty in the

fall from

pulpits' df the

They are believed

their lips.

Of the many who' have gained

Metropolis, three

to be of the

only have been selected.

most opposite classes of sectarians,dis

t 27 ]
thvjuUhed from

each other

as much by their style of oratory as by their

peculiar tenets.
The subjects of the present paper are Edward Irving, Rowland Hill, uud
William James Fox.

The first is, or was, the most striking in appearance as well as manner.
My impression on first seeing him, like that of many others,

was that rue

was a person of disordered intellect*, so wild and unsettled were his singular,
though

handsome, features.

He has,

by some, been

thought

to bear a,

resemblance to our Saviour, but that must have been the work of imagina
tion in

his

admirers;

could

never see the slightest rikeuess.

visit to his chapel I reraemb; r well.

before breakfast,

My first

It was on a old November morning

not very long after his ejectment from the Scotch Church

by ihe assembly of Elders.

He was then holding forth in Newman Street,

ju a Chapel that would not contain a half of his devoted followers.

Know

ing the great difficulty of obtaining entrance I went a good hnur before the
time appointed for service, numely six, but was surprised to find the
chapel already thronged, and still filling, with people crowding in to

little
secuee

places, having a closer resemblance to a theatre on a benefit night than to

a

place of worship: the

Adelphi

without the

noise.

Having obtained a

comfirtable seat I was enabled to look around me and make ray remarks.

It

was of course at that time as dark as night, and the place was rendered more
gloomy by the sickly light of a few short candles dispersed among the pews
and giving just sufficient light to make
ellop'd in a cloud.

every object appear as though en-

Every pew was filled soon after

my arrival, and the,

motley crowd that poured silently in took their stations down the aisles and
along the stairs: even the ascent to the pulpit was crowded with, I will not
say the congregation hut, the spectators, for no one could for a moment mis
take

the object of the

rather than devotion.

appearance as the

great bulk of those present, which

was curiosity

It would be difficult to find an auditory so motley in

present, without you took the

Tit and Gallery of a Theatre.

occupants of the Boxes,

Silk bonnets, dress coats, servant's shawls,

butcher's and ostler's waistcoats were all jostled together both in the Pews
and

aisles.

The young, the old, the clean and the unwashed, the rich and

the poor, all seernod to forget their proximity to each other, all bent their
eyes in one directiontowards the little door by the side of the Pulpit.

As

tho time approached for tho entry of Mr. Irving the silence grew more pro
found and grave like you could hear the heavy breathings of those around
you.

At last the small green baize door opened and all seemed as tho' they

did not dare move or breathe.

The object of their interest walked slowly

through the crowd that made way for him with a sort of reverential awe, and
took his station in the pulpit.

A prayer and a hymn having bem finished,

he

hand upward*, with (tho

the

rose, and extending

Bible

on

the pulpit

one

other

leant upon

cushion, and remained thus lor a minute

or

[
two

as

though

at

a loss

for

jf*
a

commencement.

Whatever

his

ob

ject was for remaining in this attitude it certainly bad a most singular anl
theatrical effect.

His pale li]>s were compressed; his long beautiful black hair

hung loosely down his backhand his basilisk eyes seemed to shoot fire from
their

sockets,

and

gleamed

with

supernatural

brightness

rendered more striking by the dim obscurity Of the place.

that

was

His pale, but fine

countenance contrasted strangely with his wild, raven-locks, and as you gazed
upon him in this statue like posture you might have fancied him the chef-d'oeuvre
of a master painterthe creation of a Raffaelle or a Rubens.

His raised hands

fell, his lips moved slowly, and the illusion vanished ; but wheu he spoke, the
senses were not less spell bound by his oratory than they had been by bis
appearance.

His words came from him like the water that rushed from the

rock in' the wilderness: it was but water; hut it came from a preternatural
source.

And hi* Words were only words, but what words !

How beautifully

they were strung together, and with what are iritoiiciition of spirit did not the
hearer drink diem in.

After a most eloquent tlow of language, when the minds

of all were wrought up by the soul-sliring oratory, he Would pause, arid

stepping back in bis pulpit, sweep his bright eye along the mass of faces,
as though in triumph tracing the "effect of his words.

He discoursed upon

Death and a future state with an eloquence that I have never heard sur
passed, and though I cannot hope to give from memory an accurals versicti
bf his discourse, the following may serve the reader
his style.
>

as a faint outline of
;
,J ; ',;?.' V, i

"What an absorbing, what an awful subject for the mind of poor mor
tal man 'to dwell upon, is that of death! The passing away of the soul to
an inheritance of everlasting bliss, or an eternity of woe! My frien'ds, luippv,
yea thrice happy is he for whom this theme hath charms, in whose ini'td
it is link'd with a train of sublime associations leading the soul far away
from earth aud earthly' things, to the contemplation of 'Klemity and Eternity's"
God,of Heaven aiid Heaven's King. Death, my friends, Heath is the portal
through which the pilgrims of the Cross, as well as the children aud slaves
of the prince of darkness, must pass on their road to (heir master's dwellingplaces: 'and yet, I fear there are bnt few amongst you who ever give-five mi
nutes to the subject. You keep your birthdays, yopr wedding days and those of your
friends, with rejoicings and mirth;you look upon their anniversaries as fete days:
hut do you ever dedicate a day,an haur,to the contemplation of what is of far
more importance than all thesethe day of your death ? Alas ! I fear not. There
is a worldly heart-hardness about bur corrupted nature which disinclines us to
these things: Man walks forth fn the green fieldsit Ms a sunny morniilg
in spring the birds are chirpingthe trees aro putting forth their young
foliagethe daisy is peeping from the fresh soil. He goes forth again
the sun ha3 set-there is a wind from the north arid Winter has spread its
cold veil over the face of the earth. .The tiny songster lays stiff and rigid
at his feetthe vellow leaves are falling, tear-like, aroundthe fair flowers
are no more.' All toll of decadence and deathand man, "blind man, be
holds it, yet sees it, heeds it not,but goes forth, year after year as
before, until hi* time arrives too. He enters the house of prayer and hears
the words which tell him of his frailty and his endlie goes out and sees
around, the green graves arid their white tablets telling the-same tale.' Week
after week does he hear and see all ibis, and ouch week finds him as tbe
lastas unwiseas unwilling. He reads the Journals of news, and his eye

[ ^9 ]
meets frequent .and s.d accounts of accidents, of &udden deaths, of suicides
Wi.l of murders; still lie* reads on, day after day, taking no thought .to him nil', until at lust h'u name is seen in the print
The Lord cometh and
fiudetb. tlie watchman asleep
Such is man, and such, too often, his end !"

About five minntes hefore eleYen turn up a short street out of Moorfields,
adjoining Finsbury Square, and on the right you will see a plain, unassum
ing brick edifice with a neat l'antheon-liko porch, and
before it.

liglit

iron

railings

Thure will be several carriages at the door and a crowd of per

sons making eagerly for- the door, among whom are many strangers fearful of
not obtaining teats.

You squeeze yourself in and on

the

half-glass

which opens into the body of tile chapel is a notice to the

effect

door

that in

the library attached to it 'may be purchased the monthly Repository, edited

by the minister of the cba]>el, aid that seats are to be had at from eight
to twelve shillings a year.

You go into the gallery

pushing obtain a place in one of the back rows.

and after

a deal

The chapel cennot

to strike yon as novel ; it is, in shape a horse-shoe.

At one. end

of
fail

of the

galleries is a small organ in front of which are seats for persons of both sexes,
who are the sii/gers con amor?.-, The- pulpit facing the

organ,

is

a small

round desk, surrounded with railings, on an elevation, and contains an arm

chair and a music stand for books of reference.

.'

You miss the solemn stillness of other places of worship on entering here
there is a constant bustle and buz, like that of a crowd
personage is expected to pass.

when some

the steps of his rostrum, and the hum of yokes instantly

is

ceases.

Mr. Fax

a short, thick-set man, wearing a black surtout coat buttoned close np to the

chin.

He has black hair, long and thick, and wears -it parted in the centre and

combed snioih so as to hang down on either side over

first

great

But William James Fox enters and ascends

sight

he

strikes you

see a wide difference between them.

imaginative

and

In style too Irving

dreamy, school of the Germans:

olJ Roman philosopher

his

shoulders.

At

as bearing a resemblance to Irving, but you soon

abou,t him.

is of

Fox has

the

more

There iy> a calm, Brutus-like

about him that gjves great force to his

words.

eyes while listening to oye of hjs political

Were

you

dcclainatiops

to

you

wild,
of the

stoicism

close

your

might fancy

yourself, standing in the Forum at Rome and hearing an harangue from the
lips of Cicero.

His auditors are for the most part of a liberal stamp

who

look up t him as an oracle : many of them however are strangers attracted

by the fame of his eloquence, and amongst , these may bo seen occasionally
Daniel O'Connell, Hume, Roebuck, Harriet Martujeau and others

of the move-

ment party.

the

One great cause of his popularity' with

these is

constant

mingling of politics with his discourses ; which has been more particularly the
caie since his assuming the editorship of a certain

radical evening

paper.

t 30 ]
In his delivery he is slow, regular and distinct ; in his style, comprehensive
and forcible ; always master oi his subject, and posssessing an inexhaustible fund
of words to convey his rapid thoughts.

In his hands no theme is uiuni.r

retting No subject however hackneyed hut he endows it with an intellectual

freshness and beauty. In hi" political discourses, such as tho course be gave
during the struggle for reform, and afterwards during the Irish question, it)
these he is another being.

You no longer hear the moralist, the theologiit,

but the democratic orator urging his countrymen to struggle for their rights
and privileges, and exposing and Renouncing with all tho bitterness of sar,
cusm the misdeeds of the powers that be.

In the one case he is l'aul preach-

Jng at Athens the words of peace, love aiid happiness ; iu the other he is
lirutus holding

Lucretia's

bloody dagger and

vengeance on Tar<]uiii and his tyrant race.

swearing eternal enmity and,

To compare his style the better

we will imagine biro to be. dwelling on the same subject as the preceeding
and going utterance to his

ideas in

the following strain.

" Death, sleep's younger brother, how has he not been calumniated, misrepresent
ed by a race of religious knaves that they might scare llie soul of superstitious iguoranee! Sleep Cometh often Death but once. Sleep holds his away iu the stilly hour
of night Death in all times and seasons. Sleep often visitetu the humble peasant
and flees from the prince. Death is impartial j he favors none. When weary, we garo
with pleasure, not unmixed with envy, upon a bosom where " the baby sleep is pil
lowed." Yet how few, how very few 'are there who thongh weary of lifo audits
butterfly pleasures, feel the same sensation when contemplating the form upon
which the Angel of Death has set his seal! Yes, k is an Angel an Angel of
mercy ; a bright spirit of peace and love, which releases uu from the bondage of
sin and suffering, and wings us to other ami better realms.
But man, weak,
wicked man, has depicted it to lis fellow-mortal* as a Raw -head and Bloodybones; as a dis'.royiug demon let loose upon the world to annihilate the hu
man species. They have robbed him of his sweet smile, and his gentle touch
and his fair form, and have given him a fiendish grin, au awful blow unaa sickening, skclunvshapo. Who is it that has done all this? Monks! Mack
bloated bigots ! who have " murdered Religion that they might scare the world
with its ghost. Superstition." H'tppily for mankind the reign of such is
over: their day is gone and tbey can no longer outrage huniun nature and
reason, whose calm, clear voice tell us that Death is to be feared by none
but the hardened sinner and the sanctified hypocrite,' and that the future
so far from being a fearful, gloomy blank, is a blight and holy scene, where
man. repentant aud regenerated, will dwell with Angels and Spirits iu on*
eternal sabbath of eternal love and joy and admiration."

Not very far from Blaekfriars Bridge, on the left side of the road, stands
a plain circular building the purpose and form of which have obtained for it
tho cognomen of the " Religious rouud-house."
for

tho celebrated

of his

most active

How laud
and

Mill,

useful

and

The Surry Chapel was built

was for a series of years the scene

exertions.

His regular

congregation

was

perhaps less mixed than that of auy other iu Loudon, and consisted of tba
more respectable portion of the

middling classes, with a sprinkling of well

drassod persons of both sexes, moving in a more humble sphere of life.

tu<

[ 31

].

like all popular preachers he drew together a great number of occasional au

ditors who attracted by his fame, flocked from various parts of town to hear
him preach.

To secure standing room you must be there a pood half hour

before the time for commencing.

You will be struck,

on looking round, to

see how still and serious every person is ; there seems to be no anxiety for
the entrance of their favorite: no gazing at persons entering: no chatting
with neighbours.

All appear to be observed in the one great object of their

assembling.

At a few minutes after

ynu see

venerable, silver-hair'd person enter

leaning tipou the

arm

eleven- the

vestry
with

of lus Clerk who conducts

door opens, and

slow, cautions step,

him to

the pulpit, and

lays on the cushion, a slip of paper with the text written in letters an inch
In

length, for the reverend gentleman

sising him you are struck with the

has nearly lost his sight.

something in his countenance that can hardly be described.

the

grave

and

On first

peculiarity of bis features: there

the humorous a mixture of the

is a

A blending of

solemn arid the

comic.

Until you are. habituated to look at him you can scarcely overcome the in
clination to laugh outright, in spite of the place.

Before commencing prayers

he carefully adjusts his gown and takes a survey of the congregation with
many of whom he exchanges nods of recognition.

lie delivers his text almost

inaudibly and for some minutes it is extremely difficult to catch his words,
but as he proceeds, his delivery becomes clearer and more animated.
dom

confines himself to

his text, but rambles

comes upper-most, frequently relating

fancy takes him.

away to whatever

some story

He sel
subject

or anecdote just as the

His favorite style is colloquial, and many of his dialogues

are remarkable for their quaintness, originality and force.

whom he is addressing himself,

Mr. H. knows to

and what is most calculated to fix their at

tentions, and this be always succeeds in, for I never yet saw one of his au
ditors asleep.

At the conclusive of his discourse he sits down in his large*

easy chair and very quietly begins picking his

teeth

with a pen-knife.

He

is noted for an originality an ' quaintness of expression as well as for eccen

tricity of conduct.
although

there are

Many of the anecdotes told of him, are, I believe, true

some the

accuracy of which

may

well be questioned.

The following is unders'ood to have really occurred, in the Surry Chapel not
nnu-y years since.

He bad long been in the habit of riding to church in a

carriage and some uncharitable person

took an occasion to comment upon it

by placing on the reading .lc-k n slip of paper with words to the effect tint his conduct
but ill accorded with that of the Saviour whose gospel and life be preached,
seeing that he was content to ride on an ass, whoreas Mr. H. must needs drive
about in a carriage and two horses.
and read it

On entering the pulpit the Rev. gentleman took

up the

paper

aloud, alter

"if the

ass that wrote this will come into

which
the

he

said

to

his

auditor*

vestry after divine service,

ready saddled, I shall feel much pleasure in riding him home." Another is
lid which docs much credit to

his [heart, and is a good specimen of his

[ 3f ]
qtiaintness.

He was chairmen of a meeting held af Exeter Hall on the sub

ject of Home Missions, at which one of the speakers alluded very contemptuously
to the poorer classes, and concluded Ly designating them " Tag-rag and Hobtail."

Sir. H. rose, stretched forth his hands, towards the assembly, and, after a

long pause of breathless silence, said in a soli mn and iui] iessive manner, " God
bless Tag, God bless Rag, God Mess Bobtail."

The simple but bitter reproof

shamed the previous speaier, and the beautiful, christian spirit of the above
quaint sentance went to the hearts of every one, and Mr. H. sat down amidst
thunders of applause.
We will now suppose him in his pulpit and addressing his congregation on
tie same subject as the preceetling : the following mi^ht be

his words :

" My friends I know that some of you don't like to be told what I an
telling you : nevertheless it's" the truth,' and truth' is eternal, iinlestrucuble, un
dying. It will live when you, and your children, and your children's children
are lying rotten aud forgotten. It will speak the same wor.4s when your very
language, your native tongue, may no longer exist, may have been swept
from the face of God's earth by some great convulsion of society. 1 have told
you, aud I now tell you again, that you; must dieall die. The old mwf
die, the younger m-ty. Now don't sh alee your heads an 1 .think "Oh! he can't
rHean us." I te>* you I mean all of you".
None of you are too young to
think of it: none of you are too old to prepare for it.
And if you will
think of it, anJ repent, and prepare for it, then my friends, " ye have chosen
the good part which shell never be taken away." How many may have been
listeuing to me in* this Very chapol this day week, who have iince gone to * that
bourne whence no traveller returns?'' And bow many think you are there
present to-day who 'ere another seven days have passed away m:iy be sleeping
with their fathers? What Ihirrk je my friends hath the power to save any
of ye? Will your youth? Infants die every hour. Will your wealth? Misers
do not live for sver. Will power or authority ? Alas !. Kings are striken on
their gilded thrones, amidst their nobles, their pomps and their vanites ! Will
beauty or accomplishments? Death laughs at these distinctionshe kuoweth.
them not. He visiteth all alike : he ciosselh the threshold of the palace and
the prison: of the mansion aud the but. There is no mark on the door
post to stay the haud of this destroying angel, but he eniereth where he.
willeth, and Oh ! my friends, happy and blessed is he who when the master
eowcth is found awake and watching."

3S

Notes from >onu;

Literature and Science:'
Mr1. James Montgomery has written
fix poetical pieces ou " Christ's Miracies," to bo published fur the benefit
of the Bristol General Hospital.
ItoYAf. Sociltv op Female Musi
cians. He* Majesty has intimated her
consent to be. patroness of this new.
and valuable institution, accompanied
by a libera? donation ; und the Queen
Dowager has intimated a similar con
sent, with a subscription often pounds
per aiinutu. The funds of the society
are already in a flourishing state.

House Painting. A very simple me

thod has lately been adopted to reu lor
the surface of paint perfectly smoi.:i,
and eradicate the brush marks. It is
done with a small roller covered with
cloth or felt, about eight inches loug
and two inches diameter, worked in an
iron frame on pivots, similar to tha
common garden roller. The Hatting coat
by this method is made beautifully even
and luoks exceedingly well.
New Mode op Masking Linen. A
celebrated German chemist, Mr. Hoenle,
has invented a new plan for marking
linen without ink. 1'his is effected by
simply covering the linen with a fine
coating of pounded white sugar. Tha
stamp of iron very much heated is im
pressed on this material. Two seconds
suffice for the operation. The linen
remains slightly scorched, but the mark
is indelible.

M. Gameriu, according to the Paris

papers, is constructing a balloon at the
J3cole Militaire, which he hopes to
direct through the air as he pleases.
Ou each side of the car lie has adapt
ed four palettes, resembling the wings
of a windmill, which he puts in motion
by the means of a secret internal me
chanism. The resistance of the air to
every pnletle that, strikes, is retlected
The legislature of Jamaica have voted
upon the balloon, ud carries it for 50,000/^ for the purpose of promoting
ward, just' Hke the thing bird or swim
the establishing of mulburry plantations,
ming fish. M. Garnerin, it is added, and the culture of silk in that island.
has already made some experiments,
APBE9IVKNE89 OF TIMBER. At one
which have proved perfectly successful.
ot the sectional meetings of the British
The Pickwick papers have been trans
Association there was read a table of
lated into the Ilussian language.
different species of wood, and the pow
The tendency of railways to create er which they possess to resist a force
traffic is strongly shown in the case of tending to crush them. The following
are a few of the principal woods and
iorae of the Northern Hues. For ex
the number of pounds which they
ample, the Arbroath und' Forfar Com
pany are carrying from 200 to 300 would sustain on the square inch
passengers a day parallel to a line of without sinking under the pressure. The
road which never did, and never could, weight was applied in all the instances
support a single-horse roach.
Upon in the direction of the fibres. Yellow
pine, 5,37.011)8. ; cedar, 5,67 libs.. ; red
the Newcastle and Carlisle line the num
ber of passengers in a given period, deal, 5,7481b*. ; poplar, not quite dry,
as compared with the number that 4,3071bs. ; green larch, wet, 230 libs. ;
travelled by horse coaches, previous to given larch, dry, 5,3681bs.; plum-tree,
the opening of the railway, has been as green, 5,3641bs. ; beech, rather green,
7,7331b*. ; beech; drv, 9,3G31hs. ; dry
eleven to one.Railway Timet,
ash, 9,3<>31bs. ; English oak, 5,3G41bs. ;
On. Paintings. It appears, by an' Spanish mahogany, 5,l981bs. ; elm,
article in the Manchester Guardian,' thai 10,3311bs.; box, from 9,365 to 10,0001b*.;
the idea of multiplying copies of oil kingwood, I2,6431bs.
paintings, said to havo been recently
Important invention.One of the
discovered by M. I.iepmann, at Berlin,
had been started by an Englishman, most ingenious invention we have witness
ed for many a day is a process invented
named Booth, a number of years ago.

34

by Mr. Joseph Dixon for transferring

ini;)it's-itns to stone. Th& #tli8euvery
was made some seven or ti^ht years
aiuce, and, L.y its means, new and exact
impressions oi' the loaves of old books,
ba.ik bills, engravings. *--&c, -may be
obtained in an incredibly brief space-of
ti..ie. In Boston, .Mr. Dixon furnished
li*m'rnur Everett with' a new copy of
some, leaves of old works in U s than
fifteen minutes from the time llicV were,
put into his hands.
.After Governor,,
Everett add other gentleineu present
had examined it, they pave biru a writ-,
ten documeut expressive of their satis- faction and admiration; aud, before
they had ceased examining the 111141
work, copies of their own written ap
proval were put into their hands. The
celerity and exactness of the work are
truly remarkable. A b.mk bill wns trans
ferred by .Mr. Dixon, in presence of
the officers of a bank, with s-> much
li leli'.y and precision that the very sign
ers of the bill could not tell the dif.
ference between the copies and the ori
ginal. It is due to Mr. Dixon to state,
that lie has obtained a patent for the
process by which bank bills can be
protected from his own invention, should
it ever tall into the hands of rogues.
17he importance of this discovery is no
yfi"e, .inferior to that of the Daguer
reotype, of which we have heard so much
within '.') lastyear. Sew York Mirror,

]
mainder, Divinity bore a large prop"or>
lion. Lit. Gazette.
The Drama. Sir E. L. Bulwcr ha*
bein for some lime past busily eugaged
in writing a l'llv lor Coveut t.ai.l n
Theatre. It is expected to be produ
ced in July.

Another Play from the pen of

Leigh Hunt is spoken of as likely to
be fortbconiiug at the Garden, in the
course of the summer. Knowles re
mains quiet, but it is rumoured that
be, is nut idle : we trust it may prove
correct, tor we look upon every fresh
emanation from the. pin of this poet
of nature as a beneiit to the human
race. ..
A Tragedy from the pen of Mr.
Talfonrd, the author of Ion and the
Athenian Captive, was produced at the
Haymarkct in May, but with indiffe
rent success. , It js said to be greatly
inferior to hi3 other productions.

Royal Asiatic Socikty, Feb. 1.

A paper on the site and ruins of the
ancient town of Tammana Neuera, in
Ceylon; by Simon Ca*ie L nitty Esq. ;
was read. The discovery of this town
is interestrng from its name from
which undoubtedly arose the appella
tion given to Ceylon by the (..reeks
aud Romans, Tapprubane Tahiana is
a corruption of Ttivibapnin copper,
colored derived for the color' of the
Tevperaxce Society. On the 1st of
soil. These ruins boar a close re
May, the %m -it' Cork Totil Abstinence
semblance to the Druidical remaina
S- cietv, of which Father Muthew is
in our own country. The city ap
the President, rni'ibercd no fewer than
pears to have been founded about 6b0.
l.'itr'J.b^S members: .jthere are enrolled
BY c. by IVejaya, the conqueror.
in Cnuuaught about 200,000, in Wexford
75.(100, and in Dublin 70,090 ; making
March 21 t; The Secretary read a'
a grand total of more thru- a million
paper on' the Ayrirfltiirc and t oinau 1 a half individuals who have volun
mcrcc of Ceylon, by John Capper Kaq.
tarily engaged to abstain form all in
'1 he chief articles treat- -1 of were-.
toxicating drinks.
Cinnamon, Codec, Cocoanuts, Hiid
Pnooitriss op Ppm.tCATiox in f.ovT'-i. In 1839 n-<arlv 3,000 works,
without indnding Pamphlets, were pub
lished. On Agrirultfre. and Domestic
Economy 17, Ann i il Pictorial liooks
12.
Architecture 33, Atlasses and
Maps 12, Piography 8, Dialects 4,
Dni'v'u" 13, Engineering 23, Geology
13, fr-neral Guide books and Local
History 52. Do. for Ireland 5, Do.
for Scotlanl 7. Railways 16, Law <J3,
Mathematics
and Book-keeping 27,
Medicine Surgery and Chemistry 100,
Katural History 76, Painting 7, Tran
pactions of Societies 16. Of the re

Sueur. Coffee and Oil are now the

principal items in the Exports of Cey
lon; the former is produced of a much
finer' quality ow'rng- to the improveinenrs in the mode of culture intro
duced by Europeans ; the latter, from'
the high ptice it fetches at home, ha*
been most extensively manufactured,
and the rucoatr.i* tree is being planted
in every direction. There is no doubt
that Ceylon could supply Great Bri
tain with Oil sufficient for all her
wants, were all the trees left for
fruit. The Surar cone was of*, but
recent introduction into the Isianu^

t 35 1
bnt aneh as had been grown bad ous countries places arid natural ob
yielded Sugar in quantity and ;!" a jects in die world By J. It. M'Culr
quality sufficient to encourage "the loct. \ Topographical Dictionary of
most sanguine hopes. A report given Englaud and Wales Fourth Edition,
by competent judges upon the. specfc- enlarged and revised IJy B. P. Captn.'U of Coiioe and Sugar s. nt home 'per. lnglistou By Grace Wehxtn:~
$>y Mr. Cupper, was rcaJ which stated iTbe Letters of Horace Wnlpole. The
thai the latter tttough not lii -i rate Poems of Schiller explained By JS.
was dacidedly of hue quality.
Bach.Three years residence in Ca
nadaBy F. R. Prescolt. Peter Paul
Litebabt Novelties. Eleven years
Rubens, HU Life and Genius. Front
in Cevlon. By Major Forbes IHIh
he German of Dr. Waagtn By J.
Reyt. 2 Vols. the Hope of the World H. Nocl.iTbe Moxea By A. B.
and other Poems By C. Mnchiy.
Cochrane. Letters frotn under a Bridger
Manners anil Customs of the New and Poems By Af. P. Willi*.Me
Zealanders ByS. Pulack.The Coun
moirs of Beethoven By A. Sekindler.
tess .By 7. S. Fay.The Widow
Woman and' her "Master By Lady
Married, a sequel to Widow Baruaby
By Frances Troltone. Camp and Mornan. Precepts and Practice By
JVirodore Hook. The 'Colonial Maga
Quarters, or Scenes and Impressions
zine Edited hy Montgomery Martifl
of .Military UfeBy Major J. Paltenon. A Dictionary, G eographical, The Civil Engineer's Magazine,
/Statistical and Historical of the vari

ClK JPatijmr,?
A Commission ot Fiith. I believe one nature, and to one particular of
that nothing is without beginning hut his creatures ; that so, in the person
God ; no nature, no matter, no spirit, of the mediator, the true ladder might
but one only, and the same God. be fixed, whereby Goo might descend
That God, as be is eternally "almigh to his creatures, and his creatures
ty, only wise, only good in his na
blight ascend to God; so that God,
ture; so he is eternally Father, Son, by the reconcilement of the Mediator,
and Spirit in persons.

turning his countenance towards his
I believe that God is so holy, pure creatures (though not in equal light
and jealous, as it is impossible for and degree) made way unto the dis
him to be pleased in any creature, pensation of His most holy and secret
though the work of his own bands ; will ; whereby some of his creatures
go that neither angel, man, nor world, might stand, and keep their state,;
Others might possibly fall and be res
could stand, or can stand ; one mo
ment in his eyes, without beholding tored; and others' might fall and not
the same in the face of a mediator1; be restored to their estate, Jbut yet
and therefore, that before hiin, with remain in' being, though under wrath
whom all things are present, the I.amb and corruption ; all with respect to
of God was slain before all worlds ; the Mediator; which is the great mys
without which eternal counsel of his, tery, and perfect centre of all God's
jt was impossible for him to have ways with his creatures; and unto
descended to any work of creation ; which, ull his other works and won
but he should have enjoyed the bless
ders do but serve and refer.
ed and individual Society of three per
sons In Godhead for ever.
That atthc first, the soul of man
But that, out of his eternal and
infinite goodness and love, purposing was not produced by In aven or eartfi,
to become a creator, and to commu but was breathed immediately lrom
nicate to his creatures, he ordaiued in God; so that the ways and proceed
bis eternal counsel, that one person ings of God with spirits, are not in
pf the godhead should be united to cluded in nature ; that is, in the laws.

36

of heaven and earth ; but are reserv

ed to the law of his secret will and
grace: wherein God worketh still, and
restelh not from the work of redemp
tion, as he resteth from the work of
creation ; but continncth working till
the end of the world : what time that
work alxo shall be accomplished ; and
an eternal sabbath shall ensure. like
wise, that whensoever God doth trans
cend the law of nature by miracles,
'(which may ever seem as new creaons) he riever cometb to that point or
pass, but in regard of the work of redemp
tion, which is the gTeater, and whereto
all God's signs and miracles do refer.
That Gob created man in his own
image, in a reasonable Soul, in iunocency, in free-will, and in Sovereignty :
that he gave him a Law and a Com
mandment, which was in his power
to keep, but he kept it not: that
man made a total defection from God,
presuming to imagine, that' the com
mandments and prohibitions of God,
were no.t the rules of good and evil ;
but that good and evil had their own
principles and beginnings, and lusted
after the knowledge of those imagined
beginnings ; to the end, to depend no.
more upon God's will revealed, but
upon himself and his own light, as a
God ; than the which there could not
be a sin more opposite to the whole
Law of God: that yet, nevertheless,
this great sin was not originally mov
ed by the malico of man, but was
insinuated by the suggestion and in,
ligation of the devil, . who was the
first defected creature, and fell of
malice, and not by temptation. .
-.
That upon the fait of man, death
and vanity entered by the justice of
God; and the image of God in man
was defaced ; and heaven and earth;
which were made for man's use, were
Subdued to corruption by his fall ;
but then that instantly, and without
intermission of time, after the word
of God's Law, became through1 the
fall of man, frustrate as to obedience,
there succeeded the greater word of
the promise, that the righteousness of
God might be wrought by fuiih.

]
cereti'ony ; a corner stone to remoTe
the separation between Jew and Gen
tile; an intercessor for the Church;
a Lord of .nature in his miracles; a
conqueror of ": l* nth and the power of
darkness in his resurrection; aud that
he fulfilled the whole Counsel ol GoD;
performing ull his sacred offices, and
anointing on .earth ; accomplished
the wlwle work of the redemption
and restitution of man, to a slate
superior to the Angels ; (whereas the
state of man by creation was inferior)
and reconciled and established all things
according 10 the eternal will ofihe Fath. r.

That there is an universal or Ca

tholic Church of lion, dispersed over
the face of the earth, which is Christ's
spouse, and Christ's body ; being ga
thered of the fathers of the ojd world,
of the Church of the Jews, of the spi
rits of the faithful dissolved, and the
spirits of the faithful militant, aud of
the names yet to' be born, which are
already written in the book of Life.

.*

'*

I believe that the Souls of such

as die in the Lord, are blessed, and
rest from their labors, and enjoy the
sight of God; yef so as they are in
expectation of a farther revelation of
their glory in the ".last day. At which
time all flesh of Diaii shall arise and
be changed, and shall appear and re
ceive from Jesus Christ his eternal
judgement; and the glory of the saints
shall then be full ; and the Kingdom
shall be given up to God the Father y
from which time all things shall con
tinue for ever in that being and stats
which then they shall receive : so there
are three times (if times they may be
called) or parts of eternity. The first,
the time belore beginnings, when the
Godhead was only, without the being
of any creature: the' second, the time
of the mystery, whkh continncth from,
the creation to the cUs&olution. of .the
world ; and the 'lii,\l, the time of
the revelation of the sons of God ;
which time is the last, and is ever
lasting without change. \-Lord Bucon.
A Mountain Skirmish. All at once

*
*
*
*
*
numerous lights gleamed through the
That Jesds, the Lord, become in dense foliage on the mountain. lop wish,
the flesh a sacrificer, and sacrifice for a fiery redness, (prophetic of the ap-,
in ; a ' satisfaction and price to the proaching struggle,) which was soon
Justice of God; a meriter of glory followed by a crash of cannon fear
and the Kingdom ; a pattern of all fully revcrberaiing from valley to moun
righteousness ; a preacher of the word tain, from glen to hill. " Urus ! Urns I
which himself was; a finisher of the the Russians ! the Russians !" burst

3?

at once from immense multitude s ;

and
in a. .few- minutes
several
Fronts, on their foaming ste-eds, gal
loped down the dizzy i . i : : 1 1 1 . The Cir
cassians, whhc.ut waiting In hold- a
routicil of war, iu.stuniiy galinped forth
t > the assistance of the ir comrades,
ponio to the valley of the Zemes, and
others to the pass of the Bakan, where
it was ascertained that. the c-ombu!-had
commenced, leaving, however, a strong
body of veterans to guard every apJirnoch to their, viliages in case of sur
prise.

At lentrth the Russian columns were

seen advancing cautiously and steal
thily, preceded . by their light howiters transported on the backs of hor
des, while a party of cossacks scoured
the sides of the hills, in order to
prevent the possibility of the ' main
btdy of the army being taken by sur
prise; then, again, owing to the n^r
rrwness of the gorge an I its ser|fe'ntine windings, they were concealed
from view, when suddenly on doub
ling a curve they came- in front of
their hitherto invisible enemy, who
had converted every jutting creg,
shrub, and tree, into an ambuscade,
and were now waiting, in breathless
anxiety, to deal a piece-meal destruc
tion on the hosts of their enemy, w-ho
could not amount to less than between
live and six thousanil. The formida
ble Circassian dueler and flight of
arrows silently despatched such of the
U'.ilurky cossacks as came within grasp
of tl.eir lurking foes; and before the
army were made sensible of the vici
nity of so much danger, they were
assailed with a shower of bullets
a:id arrows, accompanied with one of
the most teriific war whoops ever
uttered by an enemy, more resembling
the yell of furies than the war cry of
mortal men.Spencer* Travel* in Wes
tern Cercasas
' .
Mn. Weller and FIis Granosov.
" That 'ere Tony is the blessedest
boy " said Mr. Weller, , heedless of
this rebuff, " the blessedest boy as
ever I sec in my days ! of all tho
rharmio'ist infanta as ever I heerd
tell on, inclndin' them as wos kivered
over by tile robin redbreasts arter they'd
committed suicide with blackberries,
there never wos any like that 'ere lit
tle Tony. He's always a plajin' vith

a quarter pot that boy is ! To see

him a sttliu' down on the door step
pretending to drink out ot it, und fetch
ing a lont; breath arter* aids, and smok
ing a bit of firewood and sayin'* Now I'm
grandfather! to see him a doia' that
at two year old is better than any
play as wos ever wrote. ' .Now I'm
grandfather ! ' He wouldn't take a pint
pot if you was to tmike him a present
on it, but he gets his quarter and
then he fays ' Now I'm grandfather.'
Mr. Weller was so overpowered by
this picture that he straightway fell
into a most alarming (it of coughing,
which must certainly have been at
tended with 6ome fatal result but fox
tho dexterity and promptitude of Sum,
who taking a firm grasp of the shawl
just under his father's chin shook him
to and fro with great violence, at the
same time luieiinislermg some smart
blows between his shoulders. By this
curious mode .of treatment Mr. Weller
was finally recovered but with a very
crimson face and in a slate of great
exhaustion.
" He'll do now Sam," said Mr.
Pickwick who had been in some alarm
himself.
" He'll do sir !" crieil Sam looking
reproachfully at his parent, " Yes, he
will do one '' these days he'll do
for his-self and then he'll wish he
hadn.t. Did any body ever sec sich a
inconsiderate old tile, laughing into
conwulsions afore company, and stamping ou the floor as if he'd brought
his own carpet vith him and wos un
der a wager to punch the pattern out
in a gi>en time? He'll begin uguiu iu
a minute. There he's a goin' off I
said be would!' ,
In tact, Mr. Weller, whose mind was
still running upon his precocious grand
son, was seeu to shake his head from
side to side, while a laugh, working
like an earthquake, below the surface,
produced vurious extraordinary appear
ances in his face, chest, and shoulders,
the more alarming because unaccom
panied by any noise whatever. Theae
emotions, however, gradually subsided
and alter three or four relapses he
wiped his eves with tho cuff of his
coat, and looked about him with tolerable
couiposure. Master Humphrey'.- Clock.
Mb. Welleb's opiiiiok ot Rail
ways." [ consider" said Mr. Wel
ler, " that the rail is unconstitutional
and an iawader o' privileges, and I

38

should wery much like to know what

that ere old .Carter as once stood up
ifor our liberties, and wun'era too I
should like to know wot he would sav
if he wos alive now, to Englishmen
being locked tep w&h widders, or with
anybody, again .their .villa. Wot a
old Cailer would have said, a,old Coach
man may say, and I assert that in
that pint o' view alone,, the rail .is an
imvauer. As to the comfort, vere's the
comfort o* sittin' in a harm cheer an
lookin' at' Brick walls orbeapa o' mud,
never comin' to a public house, never
seein' a glass o' ale. never goin' tbrouh
a pike ; never roeetiu.' a change o' no
kind (horses or othenice), but alvays
comin' to a place, veji you come to
one at all, the wery picture o.' the
last, with the same p'leesemen stand
ing about, the same blessed old bejl
a ringiu', the same unfort'nate people
standing behind the bars, a waitin' to
he let in ; and evcrythiu' the same ex
cept the name, vich is wrote up in the
same sized letters as the last name
and wih the same colors. As to the

honour and dignity o' traveTlin', Ter^

can that be without a coachnlau : -ana
wot's the rail to sich coachman an4
guards as is sometimes forced to go
by it, but a outrage and a insult T
As to the pace, wot sort o' pace do
you think I, Tony Veller, Could .have
kept a. coach goiu' at for five hundred
thousand pound a mile, paid in odr
wauce afore the coach was on too
road? Arid ass to the ingein a nasty
jyheezin', creaking, gasping, puffin, bus,
tin,' monster, alvays out o' breathy
vith shiney green and gold back;
like a unpleasant beetle in that era
gfis magnifier as to the ingein as is
alvays a pnurhV out red hot coals at
night, and bls.e-k smoke in the day,
tlie scnsiblest -tiling it does in my opi
nion is, veil there's somethin' in the
ray and it sets up that ere frightful
6rream rich seems to soy " Now here's
two hundred and forty passengers in
the wery greatest extremity ' danger,
and here's their two hundred and forty
screams in vun ! '"Ibid

fExtracta from ^m'oBtrala,

I* the fifteenth century (the era n{
the invention of the art) the brjefnien or writers who lived by their
manuscripts, seeing that their occupa
tion was about to lie superseded, boldly
attributed the invention to the devil,
and, building on this foundation, men
were warned fi'om using diabolical books
' written by victims devoted to bell.'
The monks in particular were its in
veterate opposers; and the Vicar of
Croydon, as if he had foreseen the Kofonuation which it subsequently effected,
truly enough exclaimed in a sermon
preached by him at St. Paul's Cross.
' We must root out printing, ur printinq
ivill root us out !' Nevertheless, the
men of tho old school were soon com
pelled to adopt the novelty thus hate
ful : in fact, many of the present names
of our type have been derived from
their having been first employed in the
printing ol'iiomish prayers : for instance,
'Pica,' from the .service of the .Mass..
termed Pica or Pie, from the glaring
contrast between the black and white
"on its page' Primer,' from primariua,

the book of Prayers to the Virgin

' Brevier,' from Hrevinrij,'Canon,' from,
the Canons of the Church ' St. Augustin,' from that Father's writings having
been first, printed in that sized type,
&c. &c,
.j
.,
How reluctantly, however, tho old
prejudice was parted with, even by tho
classes most interested in the advance
ment of the new device, may be in-,
ferred from Shokspeare's . transcript of
the chronicle in which Jack Cade, tha
Radical spooler of his day, is made to
exclaim against Lord Say, .' Thou hast
most traitorously corrupted th* youth of
the realm in erecting .** gramvtar-school i
and whereas, betore, our forefathers bad
no other books but tho score and tally,
thou hast caused, printing to be used;
aud contrary to the king, his crown, and,
dignify, thou hast built a papejtniliy
Before the invention of priming al
most tho whole herd of mankind
were in a stale of moral degradation,
nearly equal to that which we havo
thus described ; for, although various
manuscripts existed, yet tho expense

SO

Si trmibfe of obtaining thorn was,

as' we have endeavour^-d to show, so
great, that few couU possess them in
any quantities, except sovereign prin
ce-., ur person* of very (jreat wealth.
The intellectual power, of mankind
was consequently completely utidisciplined there was no such thing as
a combination of moral pow- r the
experience of one age was not woven
into the fabric of anotherin short,
th*e intelligence of a nation was a
rupe of sand. Now, how wonderful is
the contrast belwceu this picture of
the dark age which preceded the inTention of printing and the busy es
tablishment which only for u few mo
ments we have, just left!
The distinction between the chrysa
lis aud the luvlerfly but .feebly iiUis.
tmtcs the alteration which lias taken
f.la/'e,' since by the art of printing,
BC-euce has been enabled to wing
it* rapid and unerring' course to
tfe remotest regions of the globe.
Every , magi's iuiorrnatiou is no*
received and deposited in a com
mon hive, containing a cell or recep
tacle for every tiling thut cau be deem
ed worth preserving. 'I he same faci
lity attends tire distribution of infor
mation which characterises its collec
tion. The power of a man's voice is
no louger the measured range to;
which he can project his ideas; for
even the very opinion we have just
uttered, the very sentence we are now
writing faulty as they may both ho
printed by steam, and transported
by steam, will be no sooner publishsd
than they will be wafted to every
region of the habitable globe,to In
dia, to America, to China, to every
country in Europe, to every colony
we possess, to our friends, and to our
foes, wherever they may he.
Although four centiu'ies have not
e.'ap-W sines the invention of the no
ble art, yet thn origin of this trans
cendent light, veilod in darkness, is
till, a subject of dispute! No cer
tain record has been handed down
fixing the pn'oiso time when the.
person by wlio-u and the place
whence this art derived its birth. The
latent reason of this mystery ttr not
very creditable to maniirindj for prin
ting having been as much the coun
terfeit as the substitute of writing,
from sheer avarice it was kept so
completely a secret, that we are told
rii artist, upon offering for sale a

]
number of B'Mes, which so mrracnlously resembled each other in every
particular that they were deemed to
surpass human skill, was accused of
witchcraft, and tried in the year
1460. Qaarlrrly Review.
We neve always thought it strange,
that while' the history of the Spanish
empire in America is familiarly known
to ail the nations of Europe, the great
arti'.'iis of our countrymen in the East
should, -even a'momr ourselves, excite
little interest Every schoolboy knows
who imprisoned" Montezuma, and who
strangled Alabalipa;. Hut we doubt
whether one in ten, even among En
glish gentlemen of highly cultivated
minds, can tell -xho won the battle of
Bu^'ar, who perpetrated the massacre
of l'uina, whether Surajah Dowlah
ri'led in Oude or in Trivancore, or
whether Ilolkar wes a Hindoo or a
Miussnlman. Yet the victories of
Cortes were gained over sava.jes who
l*Hd no letters, who were ignorant of
the use of metals, who had not bro- 1
ken in a single animal to labour,
who wielded no belter weapons than
those which could be made out of
sticks, flints, and fish bones, who re
garded a horse-soldier as a monster
half man ami half beast, who took
a harquebusier for a sorcerer, able to
scatter the thunder and lightning of
the skies. The people of India, when
we subdued them, were tthi times as
numerous as the vanquished Ameri
cans, aud were at the same time quite
as highly civilized ns the victorious
Spaniards. They had reared cities
larger and fairer than Sarar,ossa or
Toledo, aud buildings more beautiful
and costly thun the cathedral of Se
ville. They could show bankers rich
er than the richest linns of Barcelona
or Cadi/,, viceroys whose splendour far
surpassed that of Ferdinand the Ca
tholic, myriads of cavalry and loag
trains of artillery which would havu'
astonished the Great Captain.
It
might have been evpected, that every
Englishman who takes any interes* in
any part of history would be cu
rious to know ho*v a handful of his
countrymen, separated from their home
by" P7T immense ocean, subjugated, in
the course of a few years, one of the
greatest empires in the world. Yet.
unless we greatly err, this subject is,
to most readers, not only insipid, but
positively distasteful.-i/!>iiiirjA Jicvinv

40 ]

OTtOPOSlTIOX TO CROSS THE ATLANTIC IS A

BALtOOS.

Mr. C. Grern has published the fol

lowing statement of the grounds upon
which he founds his assertion of the
possibility of making a journey in a
balloon from New York, across the At
lantic, to .Europe. He statvs, that bal
loons inflated with carburelted hydrogen,
or common coal gas, will retain this
fluid unimpaired in its buoyancy, and
Tery slight1? diminished in quantity,
for a great length of time; whilst, on
the contrary, the pure hydrogen is so
subtile a g;w, and rapa'ole of so great
a degree of tenuity, as to escape through
the imperceptible pores of the silk,
whether prepared in the ordinary manTier, or by uoeans of disolved India
rubber. These facts are the result of
observations made during 270 ascents;
on many of these occasions a smaller
balloon has. been filled by a neighbour ing gas works, and hiv3 been brought
a distance of five or six miles to fill
that in which he intended to ascend,
containing, in nniiv instances, its con
tents nearly the same in quantity and
quality for nearly a week. The aeronaut
has travellled 2,'.V.iO miks with trie sahie
supply of gas, and could have continu
e4 its use for three months, if neces
sary.
As to mitking a voyage from
America to Europe, ^!r. Green dates
its possibility from the following facts;
On all occasions in which the balloons in
which he and other aeronauts h.ive gain
ed an altitude beyond the lower cur
rent of air, or land breezes, they found
one uniform current of air coming from
the Atlantic, and blowing nest, north-,
west, or west by north, whilst the under
winds, from [different causes, were blow
ing from points completely at variance
with the above ; the ascent of the ma
chine into these upper currents is per
fectly easy, , and the same altitude may
lie kept for an indefinite time with equal

facility. Tn 1836, Mr. Green mane a

proposition at Paris~ to cross the Atlan
tic in a balloon, when he received alt tier
from Admiral Sir Sydney Smith, con
firming his observations as to the direc
tions of upper currents, and in which that
gullui.l officer status his conviction of
the safely of the proposed undertaking!
and his readiness to aocompany the.
aeronaut from New Yo>"k to Europe in
his balloon. It must be kept ill mind
tbnt a balloon is not borne along as is
a ship, by th'3 force of the wind, hav
ing to overcame the impediment in
terposed by p-.is^.ng through a denser
element like the water, but is a body,
lighter than the air itself iu which it
floats, and is n'ufted at the same speed
as the air itself travels, as if it wero
part of the nioting body. The wide
expanse of sea oi&rs no impediment
to the trhdortaking, and a machine as
largo as the Nassau balloon could,
easily be fitted up tor the reception
of three persons, and, victualled for
three or* four months jf necessary.
The machine could be lowered to the.
earth and ascend as ofteu as il pleased
the voyagers, by the adoption of the
same plans as those used in the voyage
to Germany. Mr- Green, having es-tablished the facts of a curreut of air
continually passing round the earth iu
the direction of west-north-west, the
capability of his machine to retain the
carburelted hydrogen gas for an unlimitted time, and of its power of sus
taining itself in the air for1 weeks
under these circumstances, and trusting
to the faiih be has always endeavour
ed to keep with the public, as to claim
their confidence on this occasion, offers
to take upon himself to traverse the;
Atlantic from New York to England
in a balloon to be constructed for that.
purpose, and that he will rif&lfe the,
experiment without any reward for bia
exertions. Mechanic)' Magazine.

Errata.
Page 5, line 9, for " wanted,* rend " wonted."
Page 9, Stanza 1, for "jungle,-forest," read "jungle-forett.*

i 4i

REGISTER OT WEATHER AT THE MADAWELLATENNE ESTATE

FOR JULY 1840.

Thermom eter.

~~
Remarks.

l2o'
July 6a. m clock 6 p. si
I

1 7l
2 70
3 72
4 70
5 73
G 73
7 72
8 74
9 |72
10 (76
11 74
12 73
13 71
14 73
15 71
16 73
17 72
18,72
19 [73
20 ,74
21 73
22 73
23 74
24 73
25 74
26 72
27 72
28 74
29 74
SO 74
31 73

l!6
no
|

77 o
78
76
71
77
76
78
80
78
80
79
79
77
TH
-y
78
78
78
78
78
77
|78
79
78
79

73
74
72
71
7t
72
7t
75
76
77
75
74
73
75
76
(75
75
74
a. 1

81
80
80
76
75

73
74
74
73
75
76
75
76
75
75
74
70

81
74
78

77
70
74

so

Cloudy.
Flvii'iti showers.
. Do.
Do.
Heavy rain.
Cloudy.
Do. x living .hover*.
Bn.-k wind yc tine.
Do.
Do.
Do.
Do.
Cloudy.
Do.
Do.
Strong breeze oifinc.
Do. and cloudy.
Dull and cloudy.
Flying shower*.
Do.
Do.
Do.
Do.
Do.
Do.
Do.
Db.
Rainy.
Light showers.
Cloudy.
Oo. rain.
Fine.
Do. hot
Do.
D.i
Do.
D.
Do.
Do.
Do.
Do.
Heavy rain.
Do.
Do.
Maximum.
Minimum.
Average range
of Thermometer.

Inches of Rain fallon

9.

99,

JXadawtUaiamt, near Kandf,

J*lf 31** 1840.
+*-T-

The early part of this month gave

promise of a continuance of very
favorable weather for all operations
in agriculture, and more particular.
ly for Coffee Planting not only from
the steady and copious showers of
tain, but fiom the probability of
their continuance owing to the hot
weather of the proceeding months;
these expectations were, however, not
realized, as towards the middle of
the month, hot and dry weather set
in, and continued for 8 or 9 days,
raising great fears in the whole of
the seven Korles that the supply
of rain would not enable the culti
vators to sow their Paddy : how
ever, a few heavy showers after
the 16th about the hills on thft
Kandy side enabled the owners of
land to commence ploughingbut on
the Koruegalle sidu enough rain hat
not yet fallen, for Rice cultivation.
Throughout July however the Plan
ters of Coffee have not been much
Interrupted in their operations as
upwards of 100 acres were planted
in the month, all of which give very
fair promise.
Only 10 inches of rain have fall
en, during this month, a quantity
far below the average supply. The
Season has been one of unprece
dented heat and drought, and it has
produced sickness to an alarming
extent, principally fevers, of which
very many cases proved fatal in the
early part of the month ; but the few
latter days produced a chango favor
able to the sanitary state of this part
of the Central Province.

KOBBK GALLA,

' DIARY RETT IN THE VAI.B OF DOOAfBERANEAR1 ''KJUtDY;

July 15th to Hind. Strong winds and frequent flying showers have prevailed
during this week. Thermometer average Tit 6 a. m. 75e 2 P. M. 73k 6 p. v.
Operations. All the Estates in this part of the country aro taking advan
tage of the tiwil ajiowcrV weather tri form nurserios and plant out young treesi.
in which considerable progress has been made. The old plants are, tvith
few exceptions, looking remarkably Well, and the berries, under the weight,
of which their boughs are bending, are fast filling out. The health of th#
neighbouring estates Is decidedly better, though thwe are still cases of fever
and dysentry occurring.
Julji 'Z&rd to 9\st During the early part of this Week we had heavy rains
iand strong breezes, with Cool', cloudy mornings : Thermometer average 7 lw 6 a.m.
73' 2 P. M. 72' 6 p. M. Operations are confined to planting out; and formimj nurseries as last week. , Every one is busily occupied at this work for
wo cannot calculate Upon a long continuance of these cool days, so favorabl*
to the growth of the young plants. The weather already appears to he break
ing up. No decided improvement in the general health of these Estate*
though cases of fever are less frequent.
Jugi/st i*l to 1th.During this week very strong winds from the S. W.
have prevailed accompanied by clouds and light showers. Altogether th
clima(e lias been very ciiol and pleasant. Thermometer average. 72i> 6 a. m.
7ji 2 , p. si. 74 8 p, ii: . Operations same as last week. Though much rain
luis. mil fallen the little that has, and the cloudy weather that accompanied
it, tiave been of groat Use to newly planted parts, nurseries, &c., by allowing
their roots to take ea<y hold of the ground add to draw, some nourishment
and. strength before the dry weather s 't in. .All trees in bearing are looking
will add the, fruit is processing in size,,. Notwithstanding the coot weather
we... have hare'., iiitcnnittent fevers are still prevalent with colds and "coughs;
sufficient rain ha.t not yet fallen to produce a healthy state of the atmos
phere.
'Auqmt fVh tn \&/K Fair and dry during this period with, a little windy
wektlier and distant thunder on one or two evenings, otherwise is has been
fide with a hot brieht sun during the dav aiid strong drying wind from
the 8. \V. THermom. aver. 7fr 6 a. m. 78" 2 p. M.' 76V 8. p., *.
Operation*.This dry .weather is all -.important for cleaning both old and newly
planted estates, on which weeds and jungle have sprung up during the recent
rains, also for clearing such land as may be required for planting. In boUi
of these much is being done on the surrounding estates. Fevers and colds
I'll bang about, though upon the whole, the country is in an improved lUU
of health,
B. D.
Vale of Doombera, Augvst 167*, 184a

COLOMBO:
PBIXTjVD AT THE HERALD PBKS9.

CEYLON MAGAZINE
Ko. II.
*- -

October, 1840.

Vol. I.

TH3 READER.

No. ir.
Milton's

Paradise

Regained,

Ergo fungar vice cotis, acutum

Reddere quae ferritin valet, e.vsors ipsa secandi i
HI umis et olni-ium, nil scribens ipse, docebo;
Unde parentur opes ; quid alat fnrmetque poetam.
Borat : Be Arte Poetiea\
Let me sharpen others, as the hone
Gives edge to razors, though itself has none ;
Let me the poet's worth a id office shew,
And whence his true poetic riches flow ;
What forms his genius, and improves his vein.
Francis.

Amovo the signs which portended the fall of Roman greatness,

the eloquent historian of the Decline and Fall of that mighty em
pire remarks the state of literature. " The name of Poet was al
most forgotten ; that of Orator wa3 usurped by the sophists. A
cloud of critics, of compilers, of commentators, darkened the face
of learning ; and the decline of genius was followed by the cor
ruption of taste."

44

More than a quarter of a century has passed away since, as I

youthful " Render," I first perused these striking sentences. I could
not hut feel then, as now, their close application to ihe state of
literature in our own country, for now, at least, forty years,
from the commencement of the nineteenth century. The
resemblance becomes more striking every successive year. But we
have not yet arrived at litis final state of English
literature.
" Critics and compilers and commentators darken the face of learn
ing." Modern publications dilute it. The divinity of genius is'
overclouded by the spirit of excitement. Like the Greek so
phists of old, we seek alter nothing but that which is new. Yet we
had, and we still have, poets who have struck the lyre with the bold
hand of inspiration. We have had, and we still have, orators whose lips
have breathed, and breathe, manly eloquence. The most brilliant ora
tory, howevei, has been but too olten sullied by the disingenuous and
sophistical spirit of party ; and the most elhtrial poetry has been over
cast by an opaque cloud of critics.* Compilations form the
staple commodity of our modern literature. The novelist lias usur
ped the place of the moralist. Our most ancient and glorious poets'
are almost buried and lost, and, were they not immortal spirits,
tvonld be crushed to death, beneath a pile of heavy commeutalors.
We reverse the historian's picture of the state of literature during
the decline of Rome. The corruption of taste, it is" to be feared,
will engender and foster the decline of genius.
Shnkspeare, Spenser, and Milton have been swollen into many
bulky volumes by the dull, but sometimes useful labors of editors
and commentators. But Chaucer, the father of English poetry, and
a poet of the highest order of genius, has not had that labor bestowed
on him, which the antiquity, and often obscurity, of his style and
dialect demand, and which his great genius unquestionably destrves. Of the various commentators ol Shakspeare it may be said
that, while we are indebted to them for much silent emendation
of his text, we meet with an abundance of needless discussion. Of
Spenser and of Milton Mr. Todd has published editions, and col*

T_

..

. M

'

'

* Witness the party hostility, for many years, of the Edinburgh Review
against the writings of Mr. Wordsworth, now acknowledged by all to be ttaei
greatest poet of the age. The present writer is old enough U> remember the
expression of admiration, of this great Author to have been tUo signal of >
general scoff.
..
. t

45

Jated the labors of former editors. Spenser's antique stylo rev

quires a commentator well read in old English literature. But this
exquisite poet is much more tallied of than read ; and this remark
applies almost equally to our great epic poet. -Milton has, however
met with some tolerable commentators, who display both the virtues
and failings of ihis species of literary laborer. But he has been
afflicted with one pedantic editor, wbo has presumed to attempt
to correct his poetry itself. The learned name of Beutley cannot
rescue bim from the charge of the greatest folly, and even ignor
ance, of the first works o! art, by his insane projecf of mending
the almost faultless style of the Paradise Lost For it has buen
well said by a modern critic * in reference to his versifipation,
and the observation is as just as it is beautiful," That ihe works
pf Milton are a perpetual invocation to the Muses, a hymn, to
Fame." Iu composition he is as perfect as Viigil himself.
I was many years ago led into these reflections by a perusal of the va^
rious dogmatical opinions of Milton's poem of Paradise Regained, which
are subjoined to Todd's edition of this exquisite and highly finished poem.
fCames, justly celebrated in other branches of literature, have lowered
themselves by the dogmatical judgments which they have recorded of the
author of Paradise Lost having failed, either partially or totally, in his
Paradise Regained. The classical Jortin tells us that " It has not the
harmony of numbers, the sublimity of thought, and the beauties of
diction whiclraie in Paradise Lust ; and that it is composed in a
lower and less striking style, a style suited to the subject." That
the style is " suited to the subject," is most true ; but that, because
more quiet, it is therefore " lower,"and that it has not passages
of equal harmony and beauty, and even of sublimity, with the Pa
radise Lost,is an opinion which has been very carelessly and inju
diciously formed, and may, I think, be easily refuted.
Bishop Warburton, iff his characterestic and decided manner, tells
the world that " the plan is a very unhappy and defective one ;" that
the poet ought to have dwelt on Christ's death and resurrection as
the price paid for man's redemption ; and that " no opportunity is
afforded of driving the devil back again to hell from his new con
quest in the air." In short, nothing he thinks was easier than to
fitr- Hazlitt in " The Round Table ;" No. XIV.

46

have invented a better plan, and of course to Lave written a,bet!jjr

poem. But lie does allow that, as ii now stands, the lour books
" somewhat contracted, might make a tolerable episode, for which
only the subject of them in fit." Sir Egerton Bryclges, the only
editor who has jet appeared woithy of out inimitable poet, and
who has recently * published an edition of Milton's poetical works,
to which I shall have occasion presently aj;:un to refer, has well
characterized this dogmatism of Waiburlon in thus pionouncing
judgment on Paradise Regained. " Warburton was a man of great
subtilty, force and oiiginality ; but totally deficient in poetical taste.
To have contracted the matter of these four books, would indeed
have been a loss and a destruction. If the poem had been ex
tended to the length of " Paradise Lost," it might indeed have
contained that of which W'arburton charges the omission as a great
defect : but as the poem now stands, it is a perfect whole in itself."
Doctor Johnson, who criticized JNliltou as a poet, though he
hated him as a republican, with a more just feeling of his power
than marked his criticism of perhaps any other great writer,talks
indeed of the narrowness of the basis of the poem; but he per
ceives that Milton did all that possibly could be done with the
subject. " A dialogue without action" he observes, " can never p'ease
like an union of the narrative and dramatic powers. Had the
poem," he adds, " been written not by Milton, but ly some imi
tator, it would have claimed and received universal praise."This
is candid, and worthy of such a critic as Samuel Johnson ; and it
is pleasant to obseive that in this instance his mind is not obscurpd
by the prejudices which too often clouded the judgment of that
great critic and moralist.
But except Dr. Johnson, until Sir Egerton Brydges, no critic
of eminence in the republic of letters has done justice to this " brief
epic," as it has been termed, of our noble poet. Yet respectable names,
such as Bishop Newton, Hayley, Thyer, Dunstcr and Peck,have dope
themselves honor by their just admiratioji of the poem as a whole, as
well as by their insight into its many beauties which have been overlooked
by writers of greater celebrity. Prejudice and opimativenessif I may
use such a word too often influence powerful minds in their judgi
* 1835

47

merit of things which they think do not demand, and to whicl^

therefore they do not' give close attention. Hence the error,if, as I
humbly think, it be nn error,of some great men respecting this poem.
The works of Milton were among my early studies as perhaps
an enthusiastic reader, and likewise as a more mature thinker.
I find among n^y papers some remarks on the poem of Paradise
Regained ; and I shall in a few monthly essays give the substance
of my meditations on this subject. I hope to be able to demon
strate the justice of the following remark of one * of his early
commentators," That the Paradise Regained is certainly a most
admirable poem, and breathes the very genius and spirit and soul
of Milton in every line ; and, in a word, is worthy not only of
him, but even of,
" Blind Melesigones, thence Homer called,
Whose poem Phtebus challenged for his own."
If I can thus act as a pioneer to younger readers to the study of the
works of this accomplished scholar and high minded poet, and
thus teach them to create within themselves a pure and permanent taste
in literature, I shall rest contented.
Fuugar vice cotis, acutum
Reddere quae ferrum valet, exsors ipsa sccandi.
I am deeply gratified at finding my thoughts echoed by such a.
mind as Sir Egerton Brydges, who says"That he deemed it an
unquestionable duty of every one who understands the English
language to study Milton next to the Holy Writings: this remark
more especially applies to the description of the temptation in the
wilderness. The "Paradise Lost" is moral and didactic, but less
so than the " Paradise Regained."Wc may be forgiven (he says
in another of his beautiful introductions) for dispensing with all
poetry, of which the mere' result is ir.noeent pleasure; that is,
they may lay it aside to whom it is no pleasure. But this is
not the case with Milton's poetry; his is the voice of instruction
and wisdom, to which he who refuses to listen is guilty of a
crime. If we are so dull, that we cannot understand, him without
labour and pain, still we are bound to undergo that labour und
pain. They who are not ashamed of their own ignorance and in
apprehensivencss, are lost."
B.

*
Peck

I 3
jtglts& antIjoIxigt

" Here's Flowers for tou."

Winter's Tatt,
To OCE READERS,

To afford variety to our publication, we have determined to,

devote a page or two of each number to smaller pieces in verse,x
lyrical, descriptive, moral, and humorous : and we shall class the
whole under the title of " English Anthology." As to the
epithet " English," so long as ihe piece, whepcesocver derived, ap
pears in the English dress, it will be admissible : m spirited
translations and imitations, from other languages, will be especially
welcome, as contributing to the one object of Variety, and en*
suring a certain degree of excellence which has been stamped on
the original. As to the term " Anthology," it is, as every one knows,
in its primary sense, a " Collection of flowers;" and it has been applied by
both ancients and moderns to collections of poems. Ihe Greek An^
thologyas edited by Brunek, with the indexes and commenta;y by
Jacobs, extends to twelve octavo volumes; four of which only
contain the poetry. All know the beautiful volume of "Collections.
from the Greek Anthology," translated into English by the late
Rev. Robert Bland and others : of which a new and enlarged edi
tion was published in 1833 by Mr. Merivale, one of the original
contributors. It is one of the most delightful volumes, to the rea
der of taste, in the English language.
To nspiie to the perfection of this volume is not to be thought of by any
modem Anthology. The idea has, however, been acted upon in similar
collections to the one here proposed. Two very pretty volumes w:cre
printed and published at Bristol, in 1799 and IbOO, by Mr. Southey,
under the title of "The Annual Anthology." In the first sentence)
of the "Advertisement" to the first volume the editor says
''Similar collections to the present have long beeu known in

t * 1
France and Germany under the title of Almanacks of the Muses,
In Germany they were first introduced by Bkughek ; and SchilJ
1EK and Voss each edite one at present." (1799.)
In this
peared

Collection of Southey's "Annual Anthology" first ap

some of the must delightful pieces of the- late Mr. Cole

ridge ; and of others of the editor's friends, since well known in the
literary and scientific world.

One is peculiarly interesting, an Ex

tract from an unfinished poem on Mount's Batfey Humphrey

Davy,

(afterwards

Sir Humphrey Davy.)

The

specimen shews

that he might have excelled in poetry had he studied that art.

We invite our

Correspondents

to contribute to this Collection ;

nd it is requested that each writer will give his

name and adi

dress,

inconvenient tc*

that the piece may

be returned

if found

insert.
Ed. C. M.

t
To me, great Milton, 0 how dear thou art,
Thou man of lofty thinking ! Poesy
Willi spiritual beams informed thy sightless eyej
Thy soul, sublimed by holiest thought could darl
To Heaven ;and with creative touch, upstart
Seraphic visions, with which memory,
Now thou art gone, that she may still her sigh/
For aye hath wedded, never more to part.
My deep-impassioned soul, in bloom of youth,
When admiration was a thought of flame,
Could see no fault in thee :all, all was trutfi,
If it were sanctioned with thy glorious name :
^

Atxi though with thought mature conviction camo,

Oh ! I could wish it never had been sooth.

t 50 j
II.
I love, yes I lore the wild flowers,
They've an infantine magic fur nio :
They tell of our youth's brightest hour*,
They are types of the fair and the free,
Light as fairies they dance in the glade,
And laugh to the zephyr's lone sigh j
As pleasures, they're seen but to fiuio,
As hopes, they but blossum to die.
Come twine me a garland of flowers,
With the fairest young daughters of May,
As they sleep in their shadowy bowers,
And smile all their sweetness away.
And place the wild Rose in the wreath,
Willi the Field-lily bending above,
The Jessamine shining beneath,
And Violet breathing its love.
Then thore is the Cowslip's pale face,
And Primrose so mild, yet so gay:
0 ! gather them too, they're a race
That are horn, live, and die in a day.
I love, yes I love the wild flowers !
Who so happy, so lovely as these ?
The creatures of sun-beams and shower*,
Whose food is the dew and the breeze.
ED. C. Itf,

{ w -1
REMARKS ON THE LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE OF THETAMILS.
By Simon Ca9ie Chitty, Esq.

The Tamil language he.s been justly considered one of tho most copiou*
nd elegant in the Eastern hemisphere, and is classified in the KiganJu
under the head of " eighteen original tongues" of the terra cog nita of the Hindoos.
Some writers, amongst them Fre Bartolemio, suppose it to be a dialect
of the Snnakrit, tut this is obviously an error; for "its peculiar structure,
Wholly dissimilar from Sanskrit, its deficiency in aspirated consonants, its
possession of letters and soui>:ls not found in Sanskrit, its division into
dialects, one of which contains but few words of Sanskrit derivation ; and
lastly, its locality at the southern extremity of India would seem to indicate
an independent origin, and one of at least equal antiquity with the Sans
krit itself." Transactions of the Royal Asiatic Society, Vol. II. p. 264.
The Tamil language is divided into two dialects, viz. Shen Tamil, or
high dialect and Kmlun Tamil, or low dialect. The former comprises tores
further divisions, of which the first is termid Eyet Tamil, prose Tamil ; the
second Ixsei Tamil, poetical Tamil ; oud the third Nudaga Tamil, drama
tic Tamil.
The Alphabet consists of twelve vowels and eighteen consonants, and, like
the Greeks, the Tamils ascribe the invention of the whole of them to
the gods.
No language in India, if we except the Sanskrit, can rival the Tamil in
grammatical accuracy. To Agastya it is chiefly indebted for its high state
of refinement, and as that philosopher happened to dwell on the mountain
called Poaiyamalei, ill the south of the Peninsula, and was on that account
addressed by the title of Dekshana Moorti, or the sage of the south, it has
hence obtained the uanie of Ten Mozlic, or the southern dialect; Ayastya
was the first who framed rules concerning Hie Tamil grammar, but in tho
lapse of time they have been lost. After his time several persons wrote on
the subject, but their works have likewise perished, excepting tho one by
H'oliuppiyrn, who was one of the disciples of Affastyd. This, however, from
its studied brevity, has been rendered scarcely intelligible, which led Pnvanandi Vidwan, at the request and during the reign of the King Siyapangen
of Madura to write a commentary upon it tinder the title of Niinnool, i. e.
Literae hnmaniores.
Beschi, speaking of this production observes that
** although every one is familiar with the title, few have trod even on the
threshold of the treatise itself." Though Patnmmdi Vidwan had in his
introduction to .the Nunnool proposed to treat of all the five parts of the
grammar, namely, Letters, Words, Matter, Versification, and Embellishment,
he wrote only on the two first, and the defect was' supplied by Narkaviraja
Kambi, Amirdasdqnrm and Tntidi, who each composed a treatise on a part.
Different commentaries have been written on the Niinnool in modem times ;
but that which emanated from Beschi and called Tonnovl Vilakkam, has
thrown them all into tho shade.
With regard to dictionaries, the Tamil language boasts of many, amoiiR
which the. one entitled Nvjanin, the production of a Jaina King Sfandala
Purvsha is the best and most esteemed ; like tho Amera Cosha, it is com
posed in verse to be committed to memorV, and is divided into twelve
chapters, the contents of which are: 1st the titles of Deities, 2nd the names
of Men, 3rd the names of Beasts, Fowls and Fishes, 4th the names of.
Plants, 5lh the names of Places, 6th tho names of Metals and Minerals,
7th the names of different objects, 8th and 9th names of Physical ob
jects and actions, 10th the Verbs, 11th the Synonymous words, 12th Homo
nymous word*.

t * 1
The SaJur Jijar&di by Bessie was chiefly compiled from this work and as lie has
rranged the words in Alphabetical order on the principle of European diction*
aries, it has proved very useful to Tamil students.
It is a fact, attested by the numerous works still in existence on the liberal
and mechanical arts, that the Tamils had made considerable progress in
literature in the earliest period of their history. From the fourth century be.
fore, to the eleventh century after Chbibt, establishments for learning were in
high repute amongst them, and there was a college at Madura, in which every
literary production was received and approved. The Kings of th9 Chola and
Pandit/a dynasties who then reigrted over the Peninsula, were themselves men
of great learning, and made it a point to cherish and distinguish every genius
fcy particular acts of munificence.
The present generation, however.
Scarcely feel any desire to add to the stock, or improve it; and I doubt
whether the Hindoo Literary Society of Madras by the mere printing arid
publishing of some M.S.S. especially on Mythology, will eTer be able to revive
too national literature.

ORIGIN OF BUDDHISM.
in iiihee LF.rrr.HR fbom the rev. h. gilbert to sir williah colebbooke, COS'
menicaied by nip hon'ble georoe it li-.oun, Esq.
(Continued.)
LETTER 2nd.
TO

SIB WILLIAM

COLEBBOOKE,

Gilbert's, Antigua, May ith, 1839;

Mt dear Sir,I cannot permit myself to receive your very interesting
Communications of the 2d and 3d of May, and not return yon my best thank*
fcf the same.
I take the opportunity also of sending yon a few remarks on the origin
of language. This subject has been suggested by your and Mr. Read's
observations on the derivation of the words 'Buddhist' and 'Magi'It is si
subject which has frequently occupied my attention, but respecting which I
have not been able to come to any decisive conclusion. At the same time
factsand they are very numerous seem to point out the truth of ilia
theory.

I do not, however, state it as my own, for many learned men have adopted
it, although from deficiency of proof, or rather of demonstration, it docs not
appear to have met with very general acceptance.
I believe language to have been given to Adam by divine inspiration, and
that that language was the Hebrew. We might imagine this a priori, as it
is the language in which the Almighty has thought fit to reveal himself to
his creatures, and which he made use of while on earth. The Greek of
the New Testament, is, humanly speaking, rather that of the Apostles than
of Christ; although doubtless, like the Hebrew, dictated by immediate inspW
ration. That Adam must have been taught to speak by inspiration (or as
some may prefer to call it, instinct) there can bo no doubt, or he would
not have been able to converse with bis Creaiob as he appears to have done*

[53 y
en the first day of his existence ; and that a language so "inspired should by
the most suitable to convey from the infinite intelligence of the Creatob to
the finite comprehension of the creature, all that it was requisite for him to
know and practice, is a conclusion in itself so natural and reasonable tha,t
Jew will probably be inclined to dispute it.
That this language was the Hebrew may not however be so readily con.
e ded; but we have tolerably good evidence on this point also. The oldest
writings in the worldfar, very far the oldestMoses having concluded hi*
history just where Herodotus beginsare the Hebrew Scriptures; and this ir
ant only an argument in favor of this opinion, but ought in all fairness,
until some mode of accounting for it be devised, to be admitted as a proof,,
But the language itself contains almost indubitable evidence of the fact.
We are informed in the 2nd of Genesis that the Lobd Gon brought every
living creature to Adam, to see what he would call them; and that whatso.
ever Adam culled each, that was the name thereof. Now it is very remark.
*ble that in the Hebrew all of these names are significant, and in fact, like
all our modern attempts at nomenclature, descriptive of the thing named.
The leopard is named from his spots, and the bear from his murmuring or
groaning. Buffon calls it, 'un gros murmure,' and Cuvier says 'their voice
resembles groaning.' The camel is named from a very peculiar quality in
his disposition, and one which we must suppose to have lain dormant in
Paradise; and consequently that Adam could only have given it by inspi
rationthe same word in Hebrew meaning camel and revenge ; and this name
of Camel appears to have. passed into almost all the languages both of the)
east and of the west.
Another reason for supposing the Hebrew to have been the original Iangnage is to be found in the immense number of words, which in all other
languages, are derived from it; and a third reason in the original significa
tion of such words, I will illustrate both of these arguments by a simple
example.
The word u-'ine in Hebrewjin or yin, is derived from a verb which
means to squeeze or prist, and I believe that there is no other language ia
the world which thus expresses its mode of manufacture; consequently this
language exhibits a claim of originalityseeing it not merely names but
PE8CBIBE8 thingswhich no other possesses.
But the argument deducible from this one word does not end here.
There is scarcely an ancient or a modern language that does not derive
the name of wine from the same Hebrew root, viz. Greek oinos, Lutin,
I'iiium, Italian and Spanish vino, French vin, Welch giein, Cimbric uin,
Banish vien, Dutch win, Saxon vin, and English wine.
4 Till only add one other reason, and that in the words of the Foreign;

[54
Quarterly.

The faet that no language but the

Hebrew preserves a trace of

the confusion of uinyues, is an argument of their formation subsequent to

that event,

and that the Hebrew is the sole orii/rual.

You will now perceive admitting iho truth of the foregoing observations,
how my derivation of the word Build is not at ail inconsistent villi that
tfhich you have suggested.

It follows a!so that when we have once traced

up a word to the Hebrew, we have arrived at the fountain head; all other
derivations being, so to speak, only resting places that we laeet with in our
journey.

Indeed the account which

is given in Genesis of the origin of

other languages at Babel, does not imply a new creation of tongues, but
only the confusing of them Del, from which word Kabul
signifying to ' mix ' or '. mingle ;' and perhaps a more

is derived, merely
striking instance of

this confusion cannot be fouqd than occurs in the two cognate languages,
tbo Hebrew,

and the

Chahlee, with respect to this very word; for Bel in

Chaldee, instead of meaning confusion, means heart, and this appears to have
arisen from a mere inversion of the

letters,

tl)C Hebrew name for hear^

being Leb.
Hence supposing the Buddhists to have derived their name originally from
their being set apart, like the Nazarites, as more holy than the rest of man
kind, and admitting that they were as there seems every reason to believe"
a branch of the Magi, we can at once perceive how their name came to be
admitted into the language 01 the

east as synonymous with wisdom.

doctrine they taught was styled gn6-is,

The

(and hence in fact arose the Gnostic

heresy,) as containing the only true wisdom, the knowledge of GOD.

Indeed

the very same process took place with respect to the word Magoi, our owu
translators having actually styled them ' wise men,'
I cannot find any

thing at all

satisfactory

respecting the origin of this

latter word in Greek lexicons (of which I have here only two) or in Calmet
or ParkhurBL

They ail seem

Ainsworth

does

which

itself

is

not

meditate or study.

to

hesitate

a, substantive,

to

think
derive

that it was a Persian word; but

it

formed from

from
a

the

Ainsworth gives it meditans, mussitans.

of explanation mussitans,

Hebrew.

word which

J/eye>

signifies to

This last word^

muttering or grumblinghas proved very interest-

ing to rac, as I had souje months since written an Essay on the prophecy
of tho four beasts of Daniel, and had there explained the second beast tha
bear to be the representative of the Magiau religion, and descriptive
progress through the weld, aud its connection with
The bear, I have observed in a preceding part

of its

the Christian Church.

of this Utter, is named,

from its grumbling or murmuring voiceits groaning as Cuviur calls it.

And,

as the Magian religion consisted in a perpetual} struggle between good and

evil,

and in mortifying the body as it was not monstrous, like the other

jMibolic beasts of the prophetic vision, but perfectly naturalteaching as fat

I 55 7
as it went, the true knowledge of GOD, but always lamenting and mourning
over the impossibility of attaining that degree of holiness, which was tha
ultimate object of all the efforts of its followersthe emblem appears to
have been most appropriately selected. The tact, therefore, of the very name
of Magi, according to the derivation of Aiuswortb, thus including these two
ideas of meditation and groaning, I cannot but look upon it its a singular conurination of an idea adopted at first on very different grounds; and I would
add, that this mourning or groaning does not imply any thing at all incon
sistent in itself with the ^rue religion. Isaiah uses the very allusion ia re
ference to the Church: "We roar all lite bears, and mourn sore like doves,"
and St. Paul says, " ourselves also, which have the first fruits of the spirit,
even we ourselves groan within ourselves^ waiting for the adoption, to witj tUo
redemption of the body."
To what length these speculationsperhaps I should rather say researcltet^
may ultimately conduct us, it is impossible to anticipate. But when I con
nect the prediction of Daniel, that at the ' time of the end many shall run
to and fro, and knowledge shall be increased, with the discoveries of Prinsep,
Cbampellion, Wilkinson, and Captain Lockctt's Babylonian cylinders, not to
mention a great variety of others, I cannot but think that I perceive the
shadows of forthcoming events, of a magnitude and importance, to the moral,
social and religious world, not only unexampled but astounding.
If the magificenoe and energy of accomplishment is to be at all propor
tionate to that of preparation, I see not how the world can contain, or hu
manity achieve the purposes which are now in agitation, and the work that
tuust shortly be done. The very elements of human society are meltiujj
with fervent heat; and there is not. a single earthly principle loft that can
hind communities together. Fear, love, interest, are all alike impotent: jus
tice, truth, and patriotism are despised. When a member of the British Par
liament can boldly assert that he would vote black to be white in order to
support his party ; and when a minister of France can declare that tre&ti5
offensive to tho people ar* not to be kept, because rulers and subjects aro
naturally at variance with each other ; I do not seo h.ow intercourse, either
social ox national, is to be maintained. We are driven by necessity to seek
some higher principle, which shall in fact overtop and overpower every other,
and this principle is only to be found ia religion. But when we see churches
as well as states tottering to their fall, and when we reflect on such passages
of scripture, as the following, ' yet once moro I shake not only earth, bu(
hearcii and hear a Bishop of our own Church, so learned, sober, and judi
cious as Horsley, declare from the words ol prophecy, that "all establish
jneuts will ho laid aside. From the toleration of the most pestilent heresies,
they will proceed to the toleration of Mahomedanism and Athiesm; and at
]Mt to a positive persecution of the truth of Christianity. "What refuge luu&

56

we left but that of the prophet? "The heavens and the earth, shall shaft?}
Sut GOD will be the strength of .his people, and the hope of the children,
of Israel."
Doubtless the Almighty has always resources at his command, and the old
adage, that " man's extremity is God's opportunity," will again, as it has in
innumerable past difficulties, be proved to be true, and the ways of the Cbe
atob vindicated to his creatures.
David says " he has made ready his arrows against the persecutors," and
it is delightful to think that these oriental researches may be earning on
for this very purpose. The words of your last number of the Quarterly
Review aro very striking, and express this anticipation much better than I
am able to do it. " It is most pleasing and consolatory to believe, in these
times of increasing scepticism, that additional testimony to . the truth of his
own book, for the excavations of Egypt, Syria and Falestine yea even from,
the very mount on which the temple itself stood, may have been reset ved^
by a considerate Providence, against a day of trouble, of rebuke and of blas
phemy." I assure you I look forward with much pleasure to the enjoyment
and prolit of your conversation. In fact, I was but hovering about these
Orientalisms, having confined my views altogether to the more antique part
of the subject, when ideas, which you started, and the books with which you so
liberally supplied me, gave a new turn and a new impetus to my studios,
which I cannot help hoping through your influence with Mr. Tumour, and
your own knowledge of Indian affairs, may ultimately open up (to use the
Scotch phraseology) new, and as transcendentalism is so much the order of
the day I will add transcendental views respecting the Government and pur
poses of the Almighty : for, as soul is superior to body and ctentity to time,
so must religious be superior to Lworldly, political or social objects. In fact
it is not only superior, but includes them. Lest my pen should .run away
with me again, I will only add the words of St. Paul," Godliness is pro.
fitable to all things, having promise of the itic that now is, as well c; of lui*
which is to come."
; I remain, my dear Sir,
Very truly your's,
(Signed) N. GILBERT,

fOL'XICAL SKETCHES OF THE INTERIOR OP THE ISLANB

OF CEYLON,
By the bet. b. bailey.
{Continued.)

Vin.
T>AVY TREE.
Behold the sacred tree of Buddbo ! Eye
That Bees it in its lofty solitude,
Its " pride of place,"must be indeed induedj
With the gross worldling's dullnes to pass by,
Nor ponder on its beauty. It is highj
And luue, upon the green hill top. I stood
Beneath its shadow. With delight I viewed
The branches, whose vast hands up to the shy
Were raised as if imploring heaven. As wide
As higli their mighty arms were spread;
Leaves were enow for comeliness ; but pride
Of power to shroud their sinewy strength forbade i
And as this tree more thoughtfully was eyed>
It might be deemed a record of the dead.

IX.
The same,
It such monument. This is a spot
Where we must feel sensations of mixed feat
And admiration,where thoughts sad and drear
The mind with darkest melancholy blot,
And cloud the spirit. Brave men tremble not i
But the heart sinks within us when we hear
Our countrymen were immolated, where '
To the great God t'were fitter to devote
Our hearts with thanksgiving, that on this ettrttt.
Such chosen spots can meditation chain;
While thoughts of gladness, rather than of mirth,
Impressed by beauty, on tho mind remain:
To such sweet thoughts this spot can scarce give birth j
Here Englishmen by savage hands were slain.

I 58 }
^ottfcal Sftctcf>fB,fct. Set
{Continued.)

VIII.
This tree is called Bogah in English, the Bo-tree.
bane became Bnddho.
ous transmigrations.

Under its shadow Sidd-

BuJdho's life is fabulous as to his

origin and vari

But these fables being part of the idolatry of the Sin

ghalese, and painted on the nails of their temples, become as it were, iden
tified with the history of the people, or at least interesting in reference to their
wretched idolatry.

As a sfory, the outlines of Buddha's life er<- St least amusing.

The Individual, who finally became Gontama Buddho, first went through
every variety of existence.
In the life immediately

He was born an almost infinite number of times.

before that in which he became

railed Swatakatu, and was a God.

Buddho, he was

A sign, announcing the firth of Buddho,

ppeared to the Gods one thousand years before the event

The sign was,

man dressed in white with a white crottn on his head, flying through the
ir, proclaiming." In a thousand years Buddho

will appear."

Swatakatu

disappeared in heaven at the appointed time, and was conceived in the womb
of the Quuen of Sodaicn Bajahroo.

The Queen gave birth tC Buddho in one

of the royal gardeus, in the flower season, after having touched a branch
of flowers that struck her fancy.
down to be gathered, and the

The instant sho wished, the branch bent

moment she touched it, the pains of labonr

commenced and were Rpecdily over.

ward seven steps.
Gods who

As soon as bohi, the child walked for

lie appeared at the same moment to all the surrounding

were in

a 'circle ; and

apparently advancing towards him.

to each of them at the same moment,

The astrologers being

sent for by king

Sododcn, pronounced that he wonld be cither a Chakkranatte king, king of

the whole Sakwalla, every part of which he coold visit in half an hour,or
Buddho.

A fumous sage, Kaladiwella, on whose head the child, to

ther's horror, placed his feet, discovered, by certain infallible signs

his fa
on the

aoles of his feet, and marks of beauty on his body, that he was to become
Bnddho ; and that this would come to pass when he should see four things,
which should induce him to forsake his family, to prepare himself for hit
high calling, viz. a sick man, an old man, a dead body and a Tapissa.
This account of the mythology of Bnddho i9 drawn from Dr. Davy'i
History of Ceylon. The word written Tapissa, ought to be, I am informed^
Ta/iixnii/a, which means an ascetic, or religious devotee. Of these there are
rariotts degrees, according to the degree of severity of penance, until their
object is attained of the entire freedom from the influence of passion. The
Inst degree is that of Irshi, who retires into woods or forests,lives on herbs
or roots, and sleeps under a tree: In this state he attains to the condition
of a rahat, of which accounts are various. The rahat is the state next to a Budthn,that is, one entitled to final emancipation from existence, Akmhuatioh.

t 69 1
The prince was called Siddharte. At sixteen be was married to the daugh*
In of > neighbouring monarch, and had a share in the government, loe
king, fearful of losing his son, removed all the old and sick from the city,
repaired the ramparts, and placed a guard at each of the four gates. All
these precautious were vain. The four things were seen. The prince left
the city, the gate of which voluntarily opened to let him and his faithful
attendant depart.
On the bank of the river Annuls Ganga, he throw
off his royal robes, and put on those of a priest. Many signs and miracles
attended this event He sent away his favourite attendant, and enltired on
his new office. He underwent trials of extreme severity. His head became
bald, and his body emaciated. He recovered his health suddenly and mira
culously; and he perceived that he was speedily about to become Buddbo.
He seated himself at the foot of the sacred Banyan tree, called Ajapolle,
and there received an offering of rice from a princess, who, after having
been long barren, had been blessed with a child. He next went to the
river Nirarjara,made the rice into 49 balls,ate it,and threw the dish
into the river. It floated up the stream. The same evening a Brahmin
presented him with eight bundles of kusa grass, which he carried to a
Bo-tree to sit on. A diamond throne, 14 cubits high, rose from the earth to
receive bim. He was visited by the Gods who remained with him till night.
They fled on the approach1 of Marea, prince of the infernal regions, who
opposed him with ten bimberoh of demons. He opposed him by violence,
and by guile. But in vain. Every way baffled, Marea and his infernal
legions retreated; and the Gods returned to pay their homage. During the
night Siddharte acquired every species of wisdom. On the following morning
be became Bdbdho. From the name of his family he was distinguished
by the title of Goctama Buddho. (See Davy's Ceylon, page 206216, of
Which] fabulous account this is a very condensed summary.) *

IX.
Of the massacre perpetrated on this spot, the following account from tha
Mfe of Alexander, written by himself, and edited by John Howell, author of
the Journal of a soldier, (life of John Nichol, &c. Vol. I. chap. 3. page 112.)
is most striking. It is the narrative of Corporal Earnsley, who escaped,
though dreadfully wounded, from the massacre of his comrades. I have met
with an officer, who saw Barnsley; and the narrative is, I believe, substan
lially true, though almost incredible.
" Before the period, in which the command devolved upon Major Davie of
the Malay Corps, the whole of the troops had been quite worn out by sickness

See Appendix.

60

and fatigue. The weather was dreadful ; for three dys the rain had poured M
fare?sant torrents ; and the army was in full n treat, -on the faith of a conTention made with the treacherous natives. When they airived on the hanks
of the Malivaganga, which the rains had swollen to a great height, a few
of the sick, who had been left uadi-r the care of the natives, joined the retreating army, with the horrible information that the Caudians had commeneed killing the poor helpless men j and that it was with difficulty they had
escaped. This threw a damp over the minds of the whole army, who were
busily preparing rafts to cross the river. When they were ready, some oT
the native troops swam across with the warps, and so far all was right;
and they still had hope of escaping, when suddenly the rascally natives cut
the tow lines before their eyes. Many of them had already deserted to the
enemy, whom Barnsley saw firing upAti the English in their own uniform.
As soon as this act of treachery was perpetrated, all hope fled, as the
enemy began to make their appearance on the opposite side to oppose the
passage. Soon after the Adigar came down to Major Davie, with a propo
sal for hinY to deliver up' Mootoosamy, (the lawful King who had been
crowned at Kandy, while General Macdowal was there,) and the army
would be assisted to cross the river, and get guides down tn Trincomalie. Mootoo
samy delivered np bis sword to Major Davie. Both of them shed tears at parting.
The night was spent in great anxiety ; but next day there was no
effort made by tho Kandians to enable them to cross the river, nor
any appearance of it. In this state of suspense the .Adigar came again,
and proposed that the British should deliver up their arms, as it would be
easier for them in marching, and the Kandians would be more at their ease
in conducting them. This insidious proposal startled Major Davie and his
officers, when a council of war was called. At the same time, two or three
of the oldest soldiers of the 19th waited upon the Major, and requested that
they might lie allowed, to hold a council at the same time by themselves, which was
refused. Unfortunately, it was agreed by the council to comply: the men reluc
tantly obeyed with loud maimers ; and some of the more ardent spirits boldly culled
out not to do it. The unfortunate Major, Whose mind was in a dreadful agony, gave
the word, " ground your arms,"then recalled it for a short time, during wh^-h ha
destroyed all his papers. At length Hie fatal act was done ; and the troops march
ed to a distance from their arm9, and halted, when the Europeans were separated
from the native troops. Then the officers were likewise separated from
the privates,and Corporal Barnsley saw them no more.
They were
then marched to a greater distance from their arms, and halted, when the
Candians came close up to them, staring in their faces, and demanding tbelr
elothes and other little articles. One of them seized the neckcloth of an Irish
lad, one of the 19th, and began to pull it; he knocked him down at Ms
feet. They stood thus gome time exposed to insult, when an Adigar came
running down to them, and immediately two Caudians seized the two meg

[ 61 ]
ep the right, and led them out of sight, and soon after returned for twa
more. This was repeated several times beforo the unfortunate victims begat)
to suspect the dreadful work that was going on. They were ttupiiied wit))
horror ; jet many were collected. One instance Barnsley often mentioned : as
they were lending oft two of their victims one of them who bad ten pagodas
wrapped in a rag, took them out of hiB pocket and threw them into the bush.
At length it came to poor Barnslcy's turn, who, more dead than alive,
walked to the fatal spot strewed with the bodies of his countrymen. The exe
cutioiiers with their large swords shopped their victims down. The sword fell
upon the hack of his neck; his head fell upon his breast; the sinews of his
neck were cut through ; he got but one cut, and became deprived of all sen
sation. When bis recollection returned the groans of the poor wretches were
dreadful. When he opened his eyes he saw several of the natives with gin,gaals, or wall pieces, stalking over the heaps of slain, beating every one on
the head whether life was extinct or not. During this sight of horror he lay
as still as death, receiving only pne blow on the head, which again deprived
him of sensation. When this butchery was complete, they began to strip the
dead. He was himself stripped during his unconsciousness; and upon his re
turn to recollection, there was only his shirt upon his body, which was a
very bad one, or it had gone with the rest. The next recollection he had
was of a great shouting and tumult. He attempted to rise, but his head fell
forward upon his breast. Anxious to know the cause, yet fearful of being
observed by the barbarians, he rose on all fours, and supporting his head
with his left hand he could distinctly see a great concourse of them, as if
assembled round some object of curiositythose on the outside jumping up,
stretching their necks as if to gain a sight of something that was going on in
the centre. At this time he distinctly heard pistol shots, and supposed it
was the English officers shooting themselves, rather than be chopped down,
if they saw no other alternative. This happened in the dusk of the evening.
As soon as it was dark, he crawled into the bushes which were close at
hand, and, in, the best manner he could, made for the brink of the river,
which was at no great distance; yet it was a toilsome journey to him.
When daylight came, he saw a Candian busy cutting up the raft. The river^
hod fallen much for the rain had ceased. As soon as he perceived the Can-,
dian, he went more to the right to be out of his view. When he came to
the bauks again, be found the river too wide for him, at this place ; and, re
collecting to have seen a bend in it,- where the stream was not so broad, he
urged his painful course towards it, supporting his head with one hand under
his chin, and the other under his elbow to aid it. Here he plunged in,
swimming with his right arm, and holding his head out of the water with
his left. In the middle of the stream he had nearly perished ; the current
was so strong it hurried him along with it, to prevent which he had, \U
desperation, to use both arms, when his head fell under the water, and he

[ 62 ]
*l- nearly suffocated.

Again he raised it; the strength of the current was

passed, and he reached the opposite btu.k in

a very exhausted state, where

be lay for some time with part of his body in the river, and his breast and
arms upon its banks.

Arnicas

to get as tar as p. <silie from the scene of

his suffering, and conscious of his exposed situation, he made an effort to

rise, and with horror saw a Candian,
bad landed, gazing at him.

on the top of the bank on which be

Concealment was now out of his power ; his re

solution was at once taken, and

he advanced boldly towards the Candian,

who retreated in terror to a small distance.

The poor Corporal made signs

for bim to give him bis mat to cover him, as the Candian shewed no hosti
lity or wish to do him any barm, and the rain had again set in.

At length

the Candian took it off, and held it out upon the end of his staff, saying
" po

po," (go.)

He accordingly wrapped it round him, and made the beat

of his way in the direction of Fort MacdowaL

Shortly after he came to a level part of the country, where there were a great many
foot marks ; for the ground was very soft on account of the rain.

Bis wound pained

him much, and his head ached dreadfully with the blow he got with the gun. M uch
as the rain incommoded him he was pleased at its continuance, for it was
great means of effecting bis escape, the Candians seldom leaving their huts
in wet weather.

Towards evening be came to a tract of rising land, where

be found a deserted house, which wanted the roof.

Here he took up his

abode, and passed a night of the most acute suffeiiug.

The rain poured dowB

upon him in torrents; his wound felt as if a red hot iron was upon it, and
almost drove him to despair; the night appeared to him an age; and though
be wished anxiously for day, he knew not when it arrived what was to be
his fate; but any thing

was preferable to the agony he suffered from his

wound, which the inclemency of the weather now irritated more keenly than
he could almost endure.

As soon as daylight came, he examined the bouse

in vain for some article or other that might be of use to him.

At last he

went out and gathered a few leaves; their properties were unknown to him;
but they were to cool his wound.
it for the first time, in the
descend
among

towards his
some

trees.

left,

He then tore up hiB shirt

best manner

and

Cautiously

he could,

shortly after saw

approaching the

and

dressed

and then began to

smoke
spot,

rising out from,

and peeping

over

(he bushes, he saw a number of Indians, a savage race who live by rapine
and murder, and are said to be cannibals.

They are tributary to the King

of Candy, and get from him a reward for ncrv white man

they can [kill.

He silently withdrew, and again began to ascend to the top of the height
be bad left. The opposite side was to steep and slippery that be was under
(be necessity of sliding down an

his breech.

more level, and waa interspersed with wood.

The

country

Here be

met a

became
boy

again

carrying

two bundles of firewood, on a slip of Bamboo over his shoulder, who imme
diately on seeing him dropped his load, and fled

to the

bushes.

He lock

[. 63. >
no notice, but hurried on, weary and faint from bis wound and hunger. Thus
h proceeded, concealing himself in the best manner he could uutil be met
two men and a boy, who stopped him, and began to converse among themselves, ofton pointing to him. He knew not what they conversed about, but
made all the signs he could think of to obtain their pity. At length out
of them ga-re him a saiall cake of their country black bread. He put it to
bit lips, but was unable to open his mcuth, not having the power of his jaws,
(it was long after before he could chew his food ;) he broke it off in email
pieces, and in vain attempted to swallow a little. At length they made signs
for him to follow them, and made no motion as if they were going to d
him any injury. He walked with them for a considerable time ; at length
they came to some houses, where there were a good many native soldiers, and
he was put into a back apartment of one of them.
Soon alter one of their chiefs came to him and made signs to hrm to prostrate him
self upon the ground before him, which he did. The chief then departed, and soom,
alter a quantity of excellent curry and rice was brought him. With much troubk*
and pain he ate some of it, the swallowing it constituting his greatest diffi
culty. The tom-toms were then beat, and the army collected in a short time
to the number of about five- thousand men and boys. Having him in lbs
centre, they moved on in a crowd, in silence, without aBy appearance of mi
litary ordrr, all crowding round and staring at him. At this moment his
mind was in great agitation being unconscious what was to be his fate. At
length they came to a pagoda, a sanmah house, and he now thought his doom
was fixed, and that he had been brought there to be sacrificed to their God.
To his great relief however they passed on, leaving him in as great uncer
tainty as ever as to what was to be his fate. At length his agitation became s
great that his mind grew confused, and be walked onward ulmost unconsci
ously, until they came in sight of Fort Macdowal when they halted. Fort
Macdowal is 16 miles from Kandy on the road to Trincomalie. The chief
then came up to him, and caused a gin-gaal piece to be brought and placed
to bis shoulders, ready cocked. He did not know the meaning of all this,
but thought they meant him to fight against the English, or they would put
him to death. He was going to pull the trigger, as a signal that he would da
any thing they commanded, when the chief who was an old man caused it to be
taken from him, and smiled. After a great deal of dumb show with the as
sistance of some of the natires who spoke the Malabar language, of which he
knew a little, he was made to understand that the chief wished the English
to come out of Fort Macdowal, and fight him in the open ground. When ha
saw that Barnsley understood what he meant he was allowed to proceed, along
with two of the natives to deliver his message, and they conducted him to
the bottom of the bill where the Fort stood : as soon as they came near it they
said po, po, and left him, happy to be out of their hands.
At his approach, the sentinel was struck with horror at his emanciated figure and

i * )
ghastly look : he was conducted to Captain Madge, Commander of the Fortress at tut
time, who was thunderstruck at his appearance, and the melancholy tidings he
bore. The first words he said, were, " The troops in Candy are all dished, your
honor."

Captain Madge in astonishment, required an explanation, which was

too easily given, when bo immediately ordered the guns to

be spiked ;

and

arrangements made for evacuating the Fort,which was done about ten o'clock,
after the moon had sunk behind the bulls.

All

the sick were

left

mercy of the enemy, who had already shown that tbey had none.

to the

The Janipa

were left burning, aud the in.uvli was commenced in silence ; tliis however was
soon discovered, and those of the sick, who were most able, followed the line
of march until tbey dropped.

Poor Barnsley, after having his ghastly wound

eressed by the surgeon, marohed on, supporting his head with his bands, as hs
bad done all along, and arrived, with those who were able to keep up, on
the Cottiar shore, where the man of war boats were stationed, who took them.
en board and brought them to

Trincomalie, which they reached on

the 3rd,

July.
Corporal

George

Barnsley, Sflon

after his recovery and

was made a Sergeant ; but in a few months after, having got

quor on the barrack ground in the

return

to duty,

a 'little in li

cantonment, he was tried by

Court

Martial, and reduced to the ranks, and did duty as a private until the year
1805, when he was sent home invalided, along with others, to England.
suy return from Ceylon in 1811, while at Glasgow,

Upon,

I learned that he was

at that time doing duty in Fort George, in the Veteran Battalion j since thaj
tunc I have heard nothing of him."

BRIEF NOTICES or THE POETS, PHILOSOPHERS, &cov THE TAMILS,

Br S. C. Chitty, Esq.

{Continued.)

4. KonltaneT, a philosopher, who was will subject themselves to the pains,

a contemporary with Aganlt/a, though of the faery hell." He has also left
Some represent him to have been a a work called Kadeikandam, which
eisciple of the moralist Tnieiallvver. treats principally of the composition,
He held in utter contempt all the of various medicines,
do. mas believed by the Hindoos ; for
5. Matclmmtmi, another philosopher,
hi a treatise called Guaiiam, which the era of whose existence is involvlie composed, he declares that " since ed in obscurity. He is only known
there is but one GOIi, there can be as the author of a treatise on Diseabut one redo, one spiritual guide, one sea called Eimooroo aud a Glossary
form of worship, one plan of felicity on niedecine called Nigmtdv.
His
or torments, and only one birth amongst compositions on philosophy are sup.
the human race ; and that thoie who posed to have perished,
say. no, there are four redas, six 6. Apper, 7. Sanipanler, 8. Suntartr,
forms of worship and many gods, three poets, who have rendered them,.

66

selves famons by eomposing the poetn

Called Jlratrasayarn ; a voluminous ex
position of the doctrines of the Saioa
sect, of which they were the zeulous
champions. Appcr was born and bred
a Samaua, or Buddhist : but through
the ill-treatment of the head ascetic of
that system, he became a Sana, and
prevailed on the King A'odn Paiidiyirn
to follow his example.
It is said of
Sampaiiter, that he stirred up the Saicag
to persecute the Samanat, and caused
8000 of them to be empaled alive at
Madura. The Saiva assert that these
poets were inspired by Siva, who ap
peared to them in the guise of an old
man at Tintparankadu , while on their
iray to Trivaloor, the praises of which
Jthcy went to sing;
9. Natkrerer, an eminent philosophei
and poet, who was a enntempurary
with the preceding, and one of the
professors of the ancient university of
Madura. He is, however, only known
as tba author of a series of incanta
tions in verses called TirumuruyatUipudei,
addressed to the GOD Kertikeya; and
by which he is said to have delivered
himself and nine hundred and ninetynine others from being devoured by a
BuVim, or hobgoblin, who had seized
and confined them in a cave in the
mountain luiaus, while rambling in a
forest in the neighbourhood.
10. Aureiyar. This celebrated lady
lived about the time of Vgra Pandiyen,
King of Madura, and was the first of
her sex in India who acquired a re
putation as a moralist and poetess. The
common tradition is, that her father
was a Brakmuti philosopher named
Payavan, and her mother Adi. a pariah
woman of Karovr in Smith Combatoor,
and that being exposed as soon as
bora, was taken up and educated
by a Panax, or songster. Her talents
Were devoted entirely to the in
struction of youth; and she com
posed five books of moral maxims ;
namely, the Atliiidi, Kondie, Kalriozhukkam, Nahazhi and Mudurei, be
sides a poem called UnAna kural, con
taining a series of 310 districts upon
subjects connected with natural philo'aophy. As she had from her childhood
evinced a propensity for a life of
mortification and devotion, so she con
tinued a virgin until her death, which
is said to have taken place at an
extremely old age.
As a specimen _of the style and

opinions of Auveitjor, I shaU mVJo+fl

a lew extracts Irom her works ; (he
translation is adopted, with some altera
atinus, from the Rev. Dr. John's Life
and writing of Auveiyar, and Mr. Kllis's
commentary on the Kural.
" He desirous to give alms. Give;
and then eat. Never ceuse to improve
iri learning.
Speak what is agree,
able. Cherish thy father and mother.
I.eam whilst thou art young.
Keep
what is good.
Consider before thou
doest a thing. Do not hurt any body.
Keep company with the virtuous. Speak
riot disrespectfully of the deity.
DO
not speak falsely. Live peacefully with
thy fellow citizens." Attisidi.
"What misers acquire, evil people wiB
steal. Though thtni beggest alms, do only
what is proper. What cannot be duns
must not be desired.
A !bud wife i
like a fire in the lop. If the deity is
displeased, nothing will prosper. Speak
kindly even to thy inferiors. What a
man sows in the first part of his ex-i
isteuce, he reaps in the. next. Avoid
eating meat, killing animal life, and
stealing.' ' Kondie Veynden.
" The more we learn the more un
derstanding we get.
Learning is the
only durable treasure.
What thou,
host learned teach to others. Though
thou should'st be an hundred year*
old, endeavour still to increase in knoww
ledge. In proportion as one increase*
in learning, he ought also to increase
in virtue." Kalciuzhukkam.
" There are no other castes bat two}
namely, the high, who walk uprightly
and give liberally to the pom-, and those
who do not do so. The learned are
as death to ignorant men ; to wicked
men the virtuous are as death ; to the
soft plaintain tree the very fruit it
produceth is death ; but above all death
to the house to which she belongeth
js a vicious woman."Natvazhi.
" When thou bestowest a favor on
another, be not solicitious about the
time when it shall be returned; for
after a little while the young Cocoa;
will give undiminished from its head
the water it drank while growing.
" A benefit conferred on the worfhy
resembleth an engraving on a stone /
but to confer it on those whose heart**
are void of kindness is like writing
on water.
"The good, keeping in mind one faTor received, will forgive a hundred

t 66 ]
- Arose before I awake ; Alas?
safaamsv bet thmA a hnn-lred fsvccs
be -Sko* la the bvi :bey wil', on re- Alas!
How ran say eyes again know
ssi^ne, s, sraeit: aBrw* regard them
Bleep."EUi*.
tt as oftencea."'-l/aairrri.
Like meat of the ptnlosopbcTs of his
There are two versi >ns of Avcrhtvr'i ace, be was of the micm profession,
satyral maxims in Enzlish, one in Uer- Ui. jfih the y9ia% contend, from his
s-an sod another in Irutch; and Bes- having used in a distich of his Awrai
ctn, in bis inmJuetkm to bis Grsm- their ptruBar term ndswea to desig
av of Use high Tamil, speaks 0/ nate the ukrf-me being, that be be
them " worthy of Seni-ra himself."
longed to their sect.
II. Ttntallrrar, a brother of JOf his compositions, the Karat
xnV/r and who, like her, bring ex- attracted the notice of the European
noted, wa* brought op by a VallaMm literati so far back as 1730, and has
r soothsayer of the pariah caste at since been tran!a:ed both into German
Maiiapoor, in the Camatic Though and English, the former by the Rev.
bis foster father designed trim fur his Dr. Camraerer, and the latter by Messrs,
mm profession, yet be took care to Ellis and Clarke.
ha.it him educated in every kind of
The following dislichs from the kural
teaming, especially poetry, logic and on friendship are given here as render
metaphysics. When he arrived at the ed into English by Mr. Ellis.
am of maturity, he, wishing to make
" The friendship of the wise is lit*
himself knowu to the world, repaired the moon in its increase ; the friend
to the university of Madura, then in ship of the fools like the moon in it*
die zenith of its glory, and disputed decrease."
with, and baffled all its learned pro" As the pleasures at learning in
fcseors, who thereupon elected him as crease by constant application ; so the
a member of that institution, and sborl- friendship of the worthy increased) by
It afterwards, when he recited before constant intercourse."
them his Kural, a didactic poem of
* True friendship is not that which
KW) distich, conferred on bim a- dimplelb tbe face with smiles, bat
tnongst other titles that of Trirappu- that which makelh the heart rejoice."ktvnr, or the divine poet. Little more
" Friendship should repel all injuries,
tun this Is known of his present his
should take the lead in tbe path of
tory; and it would appear, that be
virtue, and, in unavoidable misfortune,
sides the Kural he has left only should share tbe adversity it ranseth.
a sincle drama called Gnina Vettiyax,
" Vain is the fragile friendship, bowin which he has combated and expo
ever specious, which saithEven as
sed the pretensions of the brahman*\u they are to us, so will we be to them-",
at must biting manner. He was marri
12 Kapiltr, another brother of .:.ed to a VeVale female, named Vashni, vitn/oTr brought up by a Brahman at
and so fondly attached to her,
Trivaloor, in the Camatic His fame
that after her death he resolved never rests principally npon a satire on caste
to marry again aud assumed the life called Jt/oral, which he is said to hsva
f Ymihi, or contemplative sage. The written in consequence of the oilier
following verse is said to have been Bmhmans In the place having re
ejaculated extempore by him, while fused to allow him the privilege if
king sleepless anJ agitated, on the wearing the triple cord, on account of
m ;ht following the decease? of his wife. bis meanness of extraction by the
mother's side. He was present at the
When I have lost a woman who ex
celled in the knowledge of housewifery, university of Madura when his brother
who performed rightly all domestic duties. Tmtmhrrar recited his KvraJ hetap
** Who never trangressed by word the professors, and there is still exer deed, who chafed my limbs, and tout a verse which he ejaculated o
aster slumbered until I slept
that occasion.
(To be Continued.)

t ** i
the btrWitb ftotm,
Bl the Rktd. J. G. Macticab,
(Continued.)
French Scenery.
Ftance, when compared with the countries which lie around it, is
very defective in fine scenery. In Spain, Germany, Switzerland ail
Italy almost every da;s jdiirney brings with it some bcutiful land
scape; but in France one may travel hundreds of miles without
seeing even one worth the looking at Wearisome undulations of
land generally of a dirty grey col'ritir,lines of poplar trees, tame
livers with old willow trees dn their batiks interspersed with tlie am
phibious plantations of the basket maker, vines cut down every year
U> the roots and trained updh strong stakes which are all that is
seen of the vineyard for more than half the Vear,roads running in
a strait line fdr many miles, with causeways in the middle and deep uptelling mud on the sides, -^-un tidy post houses and auberges,---btick and
clay nouses,and towns which, every where look as if decaying and
half deserted; are the too frequent elements of French scenery.
But the Rhone from Lyons to Avignon (and this is in the tract
of the overlaud traveller) forms an illustrious exception to this nnsatisfactory state of things. It displays at almost every turn as beau
tiful scenery as is to be seen any where. And most pleasing it i&
to be borne onwards by that noble river, while it pours its flood
of waters towards the Mediterranean. It wends its sweeping course
through vine-clad hills now terraced, how conical and how pre
cipitous, the mountains of Daiiphiny while hounding the hori
zon with thcil wild and jagged . and as if recently upheaved heads.
The villages and towns on the banks of the river and the bridges
which cross it, are also in most cases pleasingly situated, and in some
they are singularly picturesque and beautiful. But of them all, Avignon
is best deserving of notice. It is a deeply interesting place, and
very traveller should arrange so as to spend a day there. The first hour
in Avignon is indeed one of singular annoyance. Though the
whole population docs not amount to 30,000 yet so scarce is work,
that nearly n hundred are licensed as porters to carry from the
quay into the town the luggage of those who land from the river.
The consequence is that the moment one arrives, the steamer is
furiously boarded by these idle fellows, and each piece of luggage bowtver trivial is seized by one of them as his share. And he makes
off with it. And thus by the lime the traveller is on shore, he finds
himself surrounded by a relinue of men, one feigning to groan un
der a hat-box, another seeming much oppressed by a dressing case,
another keeping behind backs with a cloak for his share, while a fourth
nobly bears over his crisped moustaches a pondeious bullock trunk. And
lei the traveller be as angry as he pleases, let him bestow a good half hour
indignantly spitting bod French at the whole of them, nay let

1-68 )
him succeed in rescuing all his luggage and, in getting it on the.
back of one, he finds as his only consulaliun, on his arrival at
his Hotel that he has just as much to pay as if he had let the whole
recrin-.ent come along with Itim" at once. As usual the regulation-,
tariff is arpbigious ; and the irayellel must pay. But once fairly
housed (and both Hotels are very good) Avignon is a most in
structive place to spend a day in. Not but on a general view it
is. like most other Flench towns., dirty, dull and dilapVtated, but it
every where bears the iuiptess of former greatness, atid ol a nam
in history. Around the city on all bands are lofty walls, bas
tions and embrasures, and within, besides other buildings of in.-*
tcrcst, arc a cathedral, a palace and n prison, all which have so
much the air of the strong-holds of the Popedom, as it now ex
ists, that in Avignon one feels as if he were already ill the Ro
man slates. The time-worn palace with its rock-sustained walls,
high reaied before a single opening or break of any kind relieve,
the dead wall and that break which meets the eye at last, not a
window to let in the cheerful light on the peaceful occupant, but a,
spout hole for pouring down melted lead on people below the.
dungeon-like aspect of the chambers,the nartow spiral stairs,the
stone mortices for bolts and bars,the peep-holes with their iron
gratings in every door, and the low suspicious aspect of all the
surrounding houses,every object in short points to some former
day when a power reigned in Avignon whose trust was in its
authority, and whose lending features were cowardice and cruelly,
and such was the Popedom when Avignon \>as the scat ol the
Holy see though not when there only.
But let us go to the Cathedral and let us walk in. Never mind tbfe,
sacristan who presents himself as if he had a right to keep 'yon
out till yon employ him. The door of a Cathedral ought to be
always open ; and the valet de place whom you have with yoii
from the Hotel knows till that the sacristan knows, and will tclf
you more then is worth the listening to. And here let me insin
uate, that yo.u, need not care for the tombs of the Popes to,
which he will conduct you, not yet for the sculptures whose
praises he will enlarge on. But the building itself is highly in
teresting. Its various parts are monuments of all the most re
markable epochs in the history of France. The portico was once
a part of a temple o.f Hercules when, Avignon bore the nameAvcnio,
and was a heathen town of the ancient Romans. Much of the
interior dales from Constantino. A beautiful balustrade which sur
rounds the nave cb"ve lite arches was built by Louis le granu*
while the most modern parts o.ve their existence to the epoch of
the charte and of Louis Phillip]**. And ceitninly it is most inter*'
esting to see a single building which presents to the eye at, one
moment, works done in epochs so distant from each other and}
nil so important. How easy would it be to write pages on such a,
theme! But let us not dwell on it, since all thai is proposed in
these pages ore a few travelling sketches of the lightest kind.4
Instead ol remaining among the UiiuiMi-uuuuuierjU below, therefore, let

i i
M ascend the stair of the lower and get upon the top and look
around. And such is the amphitheatre, that in a moment all the painful
feelings which the >ight of the prison like palace awoke, all the solemn,
feelings which the Cathedral inspired, in a word every other recollection
and feeling will vanish before the loveliness which i eposes in the landscape
before you. Around Avignon lies the most beautiful panorama which
fancy can picture. A plain so extensive that it is bounded by the
wooded mountains which lie around just where the dimness of dis
tance makes the eye long for mountains and forests to rest upon,
and here and there stretching in among the mountains and vanish
ing in their embraces the {serpentine waters of two noble rivers, the
Rhone and the Durance glittering through it several fine bridges
beautiful meadows covered with the richest verdure and regularly
planted with mulberry trees and hills of varied forms terraced witit
yineyards and topped by ruined towers such are the beautiful objects
which fill the eye on all hands as it wanders around and looks
down from the top of the Cathedral tower pf Avignon. It is alto
gether a p,lace and scene for the most pleasing poetic feelingNor
is the p,Qctry of the spectator hurt on this occasion by a valet de
place as' is usual when your cicerone comes up and pointing with his,
finger towards t)>e cast, says earnestly " Do you see that mountain
whose shoulder rests upon the plain and the valley between it and
the mountain beyond ; and do you see a chasm on the side of the
mountain whose base is dark and concealed i"to all which being
answered in the affirmative, he adds " there lies the fountain of
Yaucluuse"Nor is the emotion of the English traveller lessened
even when he turns from the scene ot Peliach's rime sparse in praise
of Laura in life and death, and his still more admirable sestirte, and
looking to the utmost verge of the horizon obsei ves in the distance,
yet distinctly visible, the lofty summits af the snowy Alps.
But now let the traveller descend else the valet de-place if he touch on
(he city which lies beneath will point to spots where such deeds were
perpetrated in the olden time as will dissipate all the charm of the
panorama and make the blood run cold.
ITALYt
But enough of France and since we cannot dp, better let us, as
fest as ppssible, get on board a steamer which touches at Civita
Vecchia so as to make Rome, as we have made Paris, one of those
Testing places which the traveller requires if he is to travel instruc
tively as well as fastAt Marseilles a choice qf boats may be hud,
English, French, Sardinian, Tuscan, Neapolitan. Bad is tlie best in
deed compared with those which now plv Irom Folinouth to Alex
andria; but any of them is good euougli for an en levprising traveller.
The French government boats have had the chief run hitherto by
parties coming overland ; and till now, all things considered, they were
the best. Not but that some of them are very disappointing, and in
some states of the weather scarcely cupable of going' a-head at all ;
but they call in passing, not only at Malta, but at several ports
m ludy and Greece also which is- certainly a great recommendation.

r w j
It is to be regretted however that as matters stand there is n6
easy way of seeing Genoa. It is a beautifully situated and noble
Italian town ; and for marble palaces and Vandykes, and a colossal
statue (of Andria Doria) .standing up among the houses, it has no
where its equal. Its churches arc also magnificent ; and one of them
is curious for this, that over the galleries of which there are ten, all the
commandments are emblazed except the secondThe consequence is
that nothing is seen to forbid those " graven images" which stand
around, and that " falling down and worshipping of them" in which
(in the eyes of the simple observer, at least,) every worshipper appears to
indulge But what has become of the second ? Why by that " cunning"'
for which the church of Rome is so remarkable, the commandments were so
arranged that the second fell behind the organ which occupies one of the
galleries referred to. The steamer touches at Leghorn; and by evening one
may if he pleases be at Florence, ascending at a killing rale fThd
Tuscan drive so furiously that a horse generally lasts them only
twtt 'or three Vears) the most beautiful valley of the Arno with its
well cultivated, fields, its vineyards, gardens, unbrageous trees, clean
villages and cheerful cottages, meeting meanwhile many a noblelooking Tuscan whose aspect speaks of good spirits and good
government. But better in the first instance, at least, to be con
tent with seeing what is to be seen at Tuscany around Leghorn,
and coming on board again, after twelve hours more, land in the
Roman states at Civita vecchia, the port nearest to Rome. And
here the scene is very different*
On ncaring the Roman Slates at Civita had hot the traveller already
seen the barrenness and desolation which reign round Marseilles
he would certainly be templed to infer that the Roman states lay
under some singular curse. Not a tree within the whole compass of
the horizon. Thorns and thistles and stinted shrubsstony hills'
deserted farm housesand square buildings along the coast which,
Whether they were watch towers or places of retreat or what they
were one cannot say"such are the elements of the scenery lonnd
Civita Vecchia. And the town itself is altogether on keeping with
this beggarly account.
Though the sea-port of Rome it is a poor place; remarkable for
nothing but a fine harbour and a strong prison; The traveller soon
finds to his Cost however that it has also a police office and a
custom house. And woe be to him, if be have in his luggage any
books or philosophical instruments or any of these things which used
to be looked upon as savouring of the black artIn certain Ro
mish universities in Spain they still teach (or at least before the
revolution they did teach) the Ptolemaic system ol astronomy, giving
out in defiance of all modern discoveries, and just as was done in
the middle ages, that the sun is the centre of the universe. And
thoogh there are now very enlightened professers in Rome to make
the clergy knowing, yet at Civita Vecchia it seems as if the Ro-.
man Government were afraid of nothing so much as the entrance,
of light by any side window" Non posso passare la literature,No*

7i

Ji&ssb passare la litcratura " says tlie searcher, shaking liis head and
grinning sorrowfully, as he turns om nil the traveller's books, with
eyes so fixed on the portmanteau and with so little heart in the
discharge of his shameful duty, that one is free to Mow his books
away in his pockets and handkerchief, as fust ns his luggage is cleared
of them. The poor mnti is contented if he put the luggage in such
order, as to be fit for the inspection of the officers in Home; for
the luggage has to be visited there again*
The Overland traveller however has lio occasion to trouble eithsr
himself er the officers in this way. Let him put in his portman.
teau only such unobjectionable articles as he will require during hivisit to Home, and his Bible in his pocket. And all that speaks of
the light and liberty and religion oi England (which is nil con
traband in the Roman states) let him lock it up in his heavy lug
gage, and leave the whole in charge of the police till he leturn.
It will be quite safe. And in this way he lnay take it on board
again without its ever requiring to be opened at alb
But let us post to Rome. There are from 40 to 50 miles of the
road. It is also very bad, as might be expected in a country where
every trifle done by Government for the accommodation of the public is
looked upon as such an achievement, that not a yard of wall is built as a
parapet to a bridge, but large letters oh it set forth the nnme of the Pope
who had the magnanimity tcsend a man with a trowel to put it up.
And now let us be taught we are among a set of shaqi fellows, A
word of the postillions: The purse-bearer of our party, a very de
lightful travelling companion, and unsuspecting because suspicion'
Was so foreign to his own mind, was at first not a little pleased
with these postillions, as indeed eveiy man of taste must be at the
sight of such picturesque figures. But his gratification arose not a
little from their respectfully addressing him always by the term Eccellenza, showing as he naturally thought, that they were aware that
he was the minister of a foreign power, and were well disposed to
do homage to his diplomatic dignity.
Well at the end of the
first stage when the postillion received from our friend something
more than the port-tariff allowance, and what was conceived to be a
handsome pouf-boire, iustcad of being contented he assumed the
attitude of a man going to make a thrust will a rapier, and did
nothing but pettishly and imploringly exclaim " Eccellenza ! Ec
cellenza !" holding out the silver pieces in the flattened palm of
his hand as if contemptuously to display their insufficiency his co
nical broad-brimmed hat meanwhile obliquely surmounting his handtome nose and hniry cheeks t'.nd chin and his embroidered jacket
his sash and formidable boots allas if sympathizing in -his
attitude and feelings. On this, our friend unwilling to do any
thing that might be unhandsome, especially since it was obvious
(as he thought) that he was known, and that the Romans bade fair
to show all honor to his diplomatic dignity, gave another piece,
and at next stage still another ("for the. postillions played the same
game at every stage) till at last disgusted, our friend made a dead halt.
This led to an euquiry into details, when our friend made the

I. '8 ]discovery to the no small vex anion of tlie party and his own, that
he had been serving out pities of two Pauls instead ol single Paula
to the postillions nil the way, while they were profitably enjoying
the joke, winking it to each other from sta^e to stage and success?
fully assuming the attitude of injured men at every post-house.
They are as bad a set as ever was. {Jut on this roi.d the traveller just landed in Italy for the first time is thankful for any body
who is not a brigand, and regards every mile passed over as an
escape. But such fears are groundless. Returning from Rome we
travelled all night with two Italians, and we found that they ap
prehended no danger but that of arriving at (.'itita before the gates
were opened. At the same time it must be confessed, that the Ro
man Government has been peculiarly unfortunate in its attempts to
put down the banditti. The Pope looks to prisons and gens d'urmes
for that which the encouragement of Agriculture and the reward of in
dustry only can effect. These gens d'armes according to the pre
sent system only feed the supply. For ever scouring the couritiy;
like moss-troopers without either religious or moral principle or
other object to look to but their pay and their dastardly pay-:
masters, and feeling as they must, that there is more heroism in the
life of a Brigand than in that of a police-man, naturally break off into
the mountains in many cases and become the most actotnplir-hed ban
ditti all the more difficult to catch from their knowing all about
police. Touching the Pope's prisons also that is a sore subject.
Some years ago the Government actually capitulated with a band:
of Brigands ; and Gasparoni the chief delivered himself upon con
dition of having his life spared and of being imprisoned during a
certain term of years. He was imprisoned accordingly, and is now
in the prison, which fills the eye on landing at Civita Vecchia.
But it is said that the stipulated term of imprisonment has. expired
some time ago, and that the Pope has broke faith with the Robber and
still keeps him in confinement. And if it really be so, (and every
body aflirms it,) no wonder the Roman government is despised as
well as hated by every generous mind ; no wonder that Brigands
abound, and that the best meu are apt to be the worst subjects
Such pusallanimity, not to say such want of principle, is truly con
temptible, But indeed though a just alliance between church and
state be so conducive to the well being of both, the confounding of both
into one as is the case in Rome is found to be so bad every way,
that even in Rome itself now, many voices begin to declare (and those
the voices of men of consideration too) that if the Roman States are
to keep peace with the other nations of Eiuope the Civil and the
Ecclesiastical must no longer he confounded as they have been hitherto*
But let tig not touch on Rome in this number.
(To be Continued.)

73 ]

RECOLLECTIONS
or
0OVERNMENT KJIISSABV,
COMPILED BY THE EDITOR.

CHAP. I.

Qrigln of these. Papers.

Anecdote of the late Duke of Port'
land. Mr. Reeres. Trip to Boulogne. Vidocq, the thief taker.
Secrets of the Prison House. Mission to Pari*. Narrow escape.
Foiiche. The Egyptian Messenger.
[The following passages are tiiken from the note book of a
gentleman who was for many years a most active agent in the
secret service of the British Government. The memoranda were
never made with a view to publication, but simply lor his own
satisfaction, as, being constantly engaged in important missions, he
was liable at all times to be culled upon for an aceqnnt of his
movements and the employment of his time. These reminiscences
form but a very small portion of his notes, but it is thought they
are all which can interest the public, or, from their nature, ought
to be printed. It is to be regretted that he preserved so few anec
dotes, for the many occasions on which he mixed with the great political
stars of the day gave him an opportunity of hearing and' seeing
many of their peculiarities of character, which, had they been
recorded, would have been highly interesting at the preseut time.
The earlier notes are dated 1793, but at that period the writer
was only a clerk in the Foreign Office : his service in the dan
gerous character of secret agent did not commence until 1802 when ha
was sent on a mission to Paris, to watch and report on the movements
pi the Consul. The last and most interesting are connected with
the trial of the late Queen Caroline.]
The Duke of Portland was a hard working man and frequently
did more fagging than many of our clerks. He was early too, ft
tare quality in great men, both of that and the present day.
In his dress he was remarkably plain and when he rode up to the
{rivate entrance of the Foreign office in St. James's Park one would
ave taken him to be a country grazier. He used to be much
amused with the morning salutations of the old lady who officiated
as office-keeper and tuually opened the wicket-gate for him. She had
lived in the family of Lord Sidmouth for many years and had al
ways been accustomed to address him as " My Lord," but now
that she spoke to a Duke she thought something more was
necessary, and whenever his jrrace addressed her she curtseyed very
Jpw and replied "Yes, my Duke."H' Grace, however plain his
outward garb may have been, was far from simple in his wits, and
knew how to turn things to account as well as most people. I icBaeinber young M being brought into our office, a per-'

[ 74

feet (tranter, and in a few mouth* stepping over all our heads;
At the lime ce could not make out bow this was brought about
and wlioe interest he had, but I afterwards learnt die whole his
tory of it. M t father, it appeared, supplied his grace of Portland
with coals and was a creditor to the amount of two or three-thousand
p> Kinds, li not being convenient to the noble debtor to pay the bard
cash, and 31
not being in want of it and having a son whom
be wished to push on in the world, an arrangement was made by
which his grace gave M
's son a suug birth, and was of
coarse never asked for the money. The fortunate youth had at ,
once a salary of 200 a year, and in three mouths it was raised
id 300.
Another interloper was Mr. J. Reeves who was mide chief clerk
of the Alien Department at one step. This however was no private
j:b, but was the reward of services rendered at a time when the
country was in a very unsettled slate. It was in the early part
ol 17y4, when the Lorrenpondinij Hociely of Hardy, Tooke and
others gave so much uneasiuess to government, coming as it did,
upon the hsels ol the Flench Kevolution. Mr. Reeves hitting a
little money and mute ability, lotmed a Society in opposition to
Tooke'* for the avowed purpose of supporting government : he went
to a great expense in pinning handbills ami circulars full of loy
ally and denunciations against the revolutionists, and distributed vast
numbers of them all over the kingdom. He called upon all the
leading Tories to assemble and adopt resolutions expressive of their
attachment to the Throne : this was done, at first in his own house;
but thai being soon found too small to contain so much loyalty;
the meetings woe for the future held at the mansion <>l the Earl
of M
.where there weic some splendid long rooms. His placards
were ns violent as those of the opposite faction : there was an alle
gory in one of them which represented the constitution as being
ft tree of which the King was the root, the Lords the trunk, ana
the Commons the branches, and he staled that the latter might be
cut off without the least injury to ihe tree itself. For this he
was called to the bar of the Hor.se of Commons and had
it not been for the great influence of the ministry on his behalf
would most assuredly have beeii committed to NeW'cale, as it was
he escaped with a severe reprimand. In all his toiling and schem
ing for the government, I was the chief actor, giving him assist
ance and advice on many delicate points ; but mark the difference
in our rewards, he was presented with a shaie in the king's print*
ing oflice, appointed a Commissioner of IJankinpcy and chief clerk
of the Alien Department of our oflice, whilst I, who had really done
all the lugging, was simply promised promotion and at last sent
on some most difficult and dangerous missions to foreign countries,
for which I was badly rewarded.
In lb02 Ix>rd Lauderdale was at Paris negociating for pcaca
when 1 was sent after him wiih despatches. At Boulogne I saw
a viist number of small vessels which it was said were fur the in
vasion of England; there was also a stiong show of military in

t 75 ]
the neighbourhood. It was during my short stay in this town, while
my passport was being viseed, that 1 first met with Vidocq, although
we had been previously well known to each other by our corres*
pondence on police matters. I found him of great use, for with
his unbounded knowledge and influence in all affairs of Police
he was enabled to facilitate my movements and I reached
Paris before another would have got clear of Boulogne. I had been.
at Paris but forty-eight hours when intelligence arrived of the Bom
bardment of Boulogne by Nelson ; this of course put a stop to all
negotiations, and Lord L. was sent for by the Consul who reproached
him most bitterly with the perfidy of the British Government. His
Lordship replied with dignified firmness to the Corsican's threats;
and in truth it would have been difficult to see where the perfidy
lay inasmuch as both powers were then at war, and France had
not ceased her operations : but Bonaparte had hoped to have kept
the negotiations longer on the tapis as he wished to gain time, and
being disappointed, hecatne furious. The Ambassador was ordered
to quit Frauce instanter. On our arrival at Boulogne, which was
soon known, an immense mob assembled round our Hotel and com
menced breaking the windows. I got out by a back door and sought
my friend Vidocq, who came attended by two gens-d'annes, and with a
cudgel beat off the mob from the door. He walked with us to the
Jetty and saw us safely on board, but could not prevent the en
raged populace from smashirg his Lordship's carriage to pieces.
In the same year I was desired by Lord Sidmouth to repair to
the French capitol, as a secret agent, to watch the consular move
ments. Considering the strict organisation of the Parisian pelice,
this was a matter of no small difficulty and risk ; however I was
young, and active, and, burning with a desire to distinguish myself,
thought not of the danger. I sat out with my pocket full of
money and arrived in Paris without any mishap. When there, a
witness of the jealous watchfulness of the police undei the eagleeyed Fouche, I began to enteitain some misgivings as to my fate,
for I could not shut ray eyes to the fact of my being a spy, and
had I been discovered I should certainly have forfeited my life. But I
deceived all their vigilance by a pretended love of pleasure. I vi
sited every sight and place of amusement, by which means I not
only lulled suspicion but also picked up some in formation that was
highly useful to me. Vidocq had given me letters to Fouche the
Minister of Police who received me with much attention, at which
1 was the more pleased as it removed all suspicion of my real
character. I learnt a great deal from him, for he was talkative
whenever he found any one who took an interest in his conver
sation and it was my object to do so, for he was well acquainted
with the internal resources of the republic. During my stay in
Paris he fell into disgrace with the consul who deprived him of his
portfolio. I dined with him a few days after this took place, but
his manner would not have indicated his recent disgrace to any but
a close observr. He was the same cool, calculating courtier as ever ;
he had not lost one whit of his gaietie de coeur, or of his politeness,
X

( w )
but T could see at times a more than common sparkling of his large*
, black eyes, which told of some inward emotion. He conversed with
hie about his late master, depicting in strong colours Bonaparte s
jealousy of all whoin he suspected of possessing power in any shape ;
and the ex-minister's influence, . the more dangerous because secret,
was not unknown to him. *' The Consul," observed Fouche,
" imagines he can do without me ; he thinks he can get some one
who will serve him as well as I have done and yet be more subservient
to his whims and fancies. Ah ! we shall see ; a general war will soon
re-commence and then he will bfe glad to send for me."All this
really happened and Fouche was reinstated, though, I believe, not
without some intriguing. In the early part of the following
year 1803, the British Ambassador was recalled from the
Hague and an embargo laid on all French and Dutch vessels in
English ports. It was one cold, rainv night that I received
a note from Fouche while at the Opera tlalien, desiring to see me
immediately. His mandate was not to be slighted, and I hurried
away to him in my full dress, ail wet ana cdld as was the night.
I lound him busy in his bureau, surrounded by secretaries to whom
he was dictating letters. Taking me aside he told me to quit France
immediately for that in forty-eight hours war would be declared
with England, and the Consul would not then allow more than
eighteen hours lor us to leave the country. I said I could not get
horses or passport at that time of night, and then my baggage^
wli.it was to be done with that ? " Bah ! replied he,'' baggage in
deed ! a cravat, a night cap' and a cigar is all Votf want; As for
fj'oiir passport see, I have one ready for you, and here is a note
. lor Mods. V7. L. directeur des posies who will see that you lose noi tlrinsr for want of horses." There was little time for thanks. I started
in hall an hour, and twenty hours took me to Boulogne where find' iiig a boat ready to leave T embarked immediately. When I reached
. London 1 heard that all the English in France had been ordered
out of it in eighteen hours, under pain of imprison met. t and confiscation
of goods. Of course but few could leave within the time.
At the breaking out of the war in 1803 despatches were sent at
to the Indian Presidencies with instructions for their Governors. In
addition to those sent by a king's Cutter a special messenger was
posted off by way of Egypt and the Red Sea, in hopes of finding
his way thence by ship to Bombay or Ceylon. He had all the
necessary instructions, witli letters of credit on our different Con
suls, and started via Holland, Germany, and Italy. He got on
very well as far as Alexandria, but there his geographical know
ledge failed him and he came to a dead stand still. In those days
there was no Waghorn to transport the traveller across the Egyptian
wilds as easily as along a turnpike road, and he was afraid to
turn to the meagre information gleaned from the natives. Why
he did not apply for advice to the British Consul is not know,
and that gentleman having no intimation of his mission, contented
bimself with supplying him with cash without asking any ques
tions. Being of an easy habit he loomed about the neighbourhood!

saw all (be sights, made acquaintances and in short enjoyed him,
gelt without troubling bis head about the object of his journey. la
this manner two entire years passed away and he seemed to hav
fprgotion all about dispatches and Secretaries of State, when one day
one of his brother clerks accosted him, in great astonishment, in
the streets of Alexandria s this person was going out to India with
a reply to the despatches received in leturn for those sent by ship
and also to trace the missing courier who it was supposed, hart
fallen into the hands of Arabs. He was of course ordered home
from his Egyptian pleasure parties, and received a severe reprimand
from the Foreign Secretary, but retained his place. This was long
a sore subject to the unlucky courier, and he was constantly rousted by
all in the office about his Egyptian researches. He was nick-named
Jielzoni, and whenever any of us found a letter written illegibly
we took it to him, saying that of course be was thoroughly verse4
in Hieroglyphics.

Jfotfs from Some.

The grave of the unfortunate W E. L.,
it appears, is in, the courtyard of Cape
< Coast Castle, fronting the sea ; and
according to a recent traveller " no
stone marks her grave, and were it
not for the few recently placed bricks
it would be difficult to find the spot
it is not raised above the level ,j|' the
yard." But that this statement conies
from undoubted authority it would be
impossible to believe itwith, her hus
band, Captain Maclean, the governor
of the Castle.Athcneum
A daughter of the late Samuel t'rompton, sole inventor of the " Mule," is
compelled to apply for parochial relief';
while the family of Arkwright, who, in
the first instance, merely copied an
invention, or machine, ranks among the
Wealthiest in the kingdom.Lancaster
Guardian.
A correspondent of the Times con
tradicts the report of the death of John
Clare, the Northamptonshire poet, and
ays " he is now an inmate of a lunatic
asylum at Highbeach,iu excellent health,
though full of strange delusions."
Steam to Australasia.The "Royal
Mail Steam-packet Company," with
wuuja the Government entered into a>

contract to convey the mails to anif

from the West Indies, are making ar
rangements to extend their line of
communication to Australia and New
Zealand by means of sailing packet*
from Panama. It is calculated that
the course of post from London to
New -Zealand will be, at the utmost,
only five months and a half.South
Ausrtaiuin Record.
Litehasy Novelties.Sandrnn Hall,
or the Days of Queen Anne. By the
Hon Orantley Berkeley. Italy in 1839
By J. Von Baumer. Queen Victoria,
from her Birth to her Bridal. Tho
Dream and other Poems. By the Hon.
Mrs. Kortun. The Stage. By A. Bunn.
Greyslaer, a Romance of the Mohawk.
By C. F. Hoffman. The Quadroone.
By the author of " Lafitte." Rough
notes of the Campaign in Sinde and
Affghanistan in 18389. By Major J.
Outram. Brother Jouathan or the
Smartest Nation in all Creation. Wash
ington. By Mons : Guizot. Nautical
Sketches. By Hamilton Moore. The
Prelate. By the Rev. S. Smith. Mis
cellanies of Literature. By J. V. Israeli,
The Quiet Husband, By EU*a I'ick-

[ 78 J
Carimir Delavigne. ] .said to be
busily occupied upon s Comedy in five
acts, to be produced at the Theatre
Fr;iiiCitis: the subject of his new pro
duction 1ms not yet transpired.

Charcoal, to 10,000 lbs. ; and -of Anthracite, to 12,000 lbs. Mechanic'^

Magazine.

Testing by Ei-Ectbicitt. Mons

Romsrau proposes to ascertain the
A number of our must eminent phi
purity of certain substances, and to
losophers and naturalists have asso detect any adulterations in them, by
ciated together under the title of the measuring their conducting power for
* Microscopic Society" for the purpose electricity. Some years ago he des
of investigating phenomena by the aid cribed a simple apparatus by means
of the microscope.
of which the purity of Olive oil might
be tested on similar principles. He
The site of the once celebrated
now states that by these means any
Vauxhall Gardens has been let on a
adulterations in Chocolate or Coffee,
building lease. The Orchestre and
may be readily detected: he finds that
Promenades are to be superseded by a
pure Chocolate is a now conductor or
fashionable square.
insulator of electricity, but that in pro
, Lover, the Irish Poet, Musician and portion to the quantity of farina or
Novelist has written and composed three fecular matter with which it is adul
new songs. Bveken, the Captain Ro terated, the more easily does it con
ver, and the Fisherman : they are highly duct electricity ; and in the same way
spoken of, particularly the two latter.
he states that Coffee is an insulator
whiles chicory, with which it is often
Agricultural Machinery. The
mixed, is an excellent conductor, and
Earl of Kingston is about to establish
hence the presence of only a small
an agricultural model school at Miquantity of that substance is easily
chelstown to take apprentices, and have
detected in. Coffee by its increased con
them bred up as working farmers.
ducting power.
M. Rousseau also
Times.
considers that this test may be appli
Valors of various Furls. From ed with advantage to the examinations,
a extensive series of experiments late
of pharmacenticol extracts and prepa
ly made, it has been ascertained that rations, because they very much dif
one pound of Wallscnd coals will im
fer in conducting power, and therefor*
part one degree of heat to 8000 lbs. any mixture or adulteration will be;
of water; of Slangenech, to 9000 lbs. readily discovered.Jbid.

Cfie e&tfftttt.

f The Hakt>.-There Is inconsistency

and something of the child's propen
sities still in mankind. A piece of
Mechanism, as a watch, or barometer,
or a dial, will fix attentiona, man
will make journeys to see an engine
stamp a coin, or turn a block,; yet
the organs through, which he has a
thousand sources of enjoyment, and
which are in themselves more exqui
site in design and more curious both
in contrivance and in Mechanism, do
not enter his thoughts ; and if he
admire a living action, that admira
tion will probably be more excited
t>y what is uncommon and monstrous

than by what is natural and perfectly,

adjusted to its officeby the elephant'*
trunk, than by the human hand. This
does not arise from an unwillingness
to contemplate the superiority or dig
nity of our own nature, nor from an,
incapacity of admiring the adaptation
of parts. It is the effect of habit.
The human hand U so beautifully
formed, it has so fine a sensibility, that
sensibility governs its motions so correctly,
every effort of the will is answered so in
stantly, as if the handitsolf were the seat
of that will, its actions are so powerful, so.
free, and yet so delicate, that it seems to
possess a quality instinct in itself, and

I 79 7
there is no thought of its complexity
as an inslroin.nl, or of lite relations
which make it subservient to the niiml ;
we use it as we draw our breath,
Unconsciously, and hnve loot all re
collection of the feeble and ill-directed
efforts of its first exercise, by which
it has beep perfected. Is it not the
cry perfection of th,e instrument which
stakes us insensible totts use tBclVz

had no right' to withdraw what he has

once bestowed, as if he were obliged
to continue what he has once beesl
pleased to confer.
God is the
fountain from which all the streams
of goodness flow; the centre from
which all the rays of blessedness
diverge. All our actions are therefore
only good, aa they have a reference
to him; the streams must revert back
to thf.ir fountain, the rays must con
verge again to their centre. Hu.unih
Bi.KssiMis. In adoring the provi
dence of God, wo are apt to be struck Mure.
will* what is new and gut of course^
ExTBEMR9.-r-Chritianiy way be. sail
while we too much overlook long, to suffer between two criminals, bat
habitual, and uninterrupted mercies. it is difticnlt to determine by which
But common mercies, if less striking, she suffers most, whether by that
lire more valuable, both because we uncharitable bigotry which disguises
have them always, and because others her divine character, and speculatively
share them. The ordinary- blessings adopts the faggots and the flames of
of life are overlooked, for the very inquisitorial intolerance, or by- that
reason that they ought to be moat indiscriminate candour, that conceding
prized, because they- are most uni
slackness, which, by stripping her of
formly bestowed.
ber appropriate attributes, reduces her
They are most essential to our to something which, instead of making
support; and when once they are her the religion of Christ, generalises
withdrawn, we begin, to find that they her into any- religion which may
are also most essential to our com
choose to adopt her. The one dis
torts her lovely lineaments into cari
fort.
Nothing raises the price of a bless
cature, aud throws her graceful figure
ing like its removal whereas it was into gloomy shadow, the other, by
)ts continuance which should have daubing her over with colours not her
own, renders her form indistinct, and
taught us its value.
VVe want fresh excitements, we con
obliterates her features. In the first
sider mercies long enjoyed as things instance, she excites little affection;
of course, as things to which we have in the latter, she is not recognized.
a, son of prescriptive claim; as if God Ibid.

LOVE'S GROWTH,

No telling how love thrives ! to what it comes *

Whence grows !

'Tis e'en of as mysterious root,

As the pine that makes its lodging of the rock,

Yet there it lives, a huge tree, flourishing,
Where yon would think a blade of grass would diet
What is love's poison, if it be not hate ?
Yet in that poison, oft is fonnd love's food.
Frowns that are clouds to us, ore sun to him!
He finds a music in a scornful tongue,
That melts him more than softest melody
Passion perverting all things to its mood,
And, spite of nature, matching oppostoes !
{Luve.

A Play, by J. S. Kuoula*

80

Elephant HmrTixo. There was now

a dead sileucc for a few minutes unHi loud calls, proceeding from persons
stationed in trees, were passed along
to a considerable distance, and proved
to be the signal for the beaters to
commence operations. Soon after this,
ve could just distinguish n very dis
tant shout swell upon the breeze, and
again all was silent for a considera
ble time; it was in the.se quiet inter
vals that the beaters were cautiously
advancing and taking up new positions
on the ground from which the ele
phants had receded. After this, shouts
arose somewhat nearer, and the short
pattering sound of tomtoms could be
distinguished. At this distance the ge
neral effect produced by the long con
tinued shouts of the people, combined
with the noise of the advancing ele
phants, was that of the rushing sound
and heavy fall of & great body of
water; but, as the mass approached,
the breaking of branches, the beating
of tom-toms, the wild shouts of tbe
people, and tbe crash of decayed and
felling trees, could be distinguished
from the ponderous tread of the ad
vancing herds as they pressed through
the yielding forest. In our position,
the heat and want of air was most
oppressive, for no thick foliage shaded
us from a vertical sun; and, although
the bamboos were insufficient for shade,
they effectually excluded the very slight
breeze which occasionally murmured
over our heads, and shook the wi^her,ed leaves.
With heavy tread and noisy tumult
the elephants came on, and rested, as
far as we could -judge from tbe sound,
within twenty yards of us; and then
again succeeded an interval of dead
silence. To us they were still invi
sible, and the utmost straining of my
eyesight was unable to gain me a
glimpse of 'ajuy of them: at this time,
anxiety and excitement made my sen
ses so acute, that not only did I feel
the pulses thump with unwonted vio
lence, but the Ik-king of my watch
ounded on my ear as if a church
clock had located itself in my pocket;
neither could I turn my head without
feeling and fancying 1 heard the joints
of my neck creak on their pivots.
The beaters in the mean time had.

advanced, and, from a short distance

behind aud around the elephants,
arose loud shouts of people and the
rolling of tom-toms; immediately the
jungle in front of us seemed heaving
forward, and a second or two only
elapsed before the heads of the two
leaders of the mass were distinct and
bearing directly on us. I fired at tha
one immediately opposite to me, and
not more than ten feet distant: he
stopped, and was in the act of turn
ing when I fired again. Mr. S
,
had also fired twice at the other lea*
der, and with the same want of suc
cess; for the whole herd tore back
through the brushwood, and rushed
towards the hill.Forbes't Eleven Yeart

m Ceyhn.
Conversion to Romanism. And now
Becky, it must never go furder, but
be kep a rebgus. secret betwixt out;
two selves, but ever since Colon Ca
thedral I have been dreadful unsettled
in ray mind with spirituous pints. It
seemed as if 1 had a call to turn a
Roman.
Besides the voice in my
hone inward parts, I've been prodigusly urged and advized by the party
you don't know to becum a prosetelyte, and decant all my errors, and
throw myself into the buzzum of Rome.
Cander compels to say, its a verry
coin hi table rc-ligun, and then such
splendid churchis and alters, and grand
cennonis, and such bewliful musrcle service, and so many miraklea
and wunderful relicts ; besides, plain
church of England going, pariich in,
the country parts, do look pore and
mean and pokey after it, (hats the
truth. To be sure there's transmigra
tion, but even that I mite get over;
in time, for we can beleave anything
if we really wish to. Its a grate temp,
tation, and provided I felt quite cer
tain of bettering mcself, I would con
vert meself at once. * But praps't
would be most advizahle to put off
my beleaving in any thing at all. til*
our return to Kent. Besides, Becky,
you may feel inclined, on proper talk
ing to, to give up youre own convixons too, and in that case we can both,
embrace the Pope at the same time,
Hood's Up tin Rhine.

t 81 ]
INVOCATION.
Aniwer me, burning stars of night!
Where is the spirit gone,
That past the reach of human eight,
As a swift breeze hath flown ?
And the stars answered me" We roll
In lUht and power on high:
But of the never-dying soul
Ask that which cannot die."
Oh ! many toned and chainless wind!
Thott art a wanderer free j
Tell nie if thou its place can find;
Far Over mount and sea ?
And the wind niunner'd in reply
" The blue deep I have cross'd,
Anil met its barks and billows high,
But not what thou hast lost."
Ye clouds that gorgeously repose
Around the setting sun,
Answer ! have ye a home for those
Whose earthly race is run?
The bright clouds answer'd" We depart,
We vanish' from the sky ;
Ask what is deathless in thy heart,
For that which cannot die."
SppRk then, thou voice of Gon within,
Thou of the deep, low tone !
Answer me, through life's restless din,
Where is the spirit flown ?
And the voice answered" be thou still !
Enough to know is given ;
Clouds, winds and stars their part fulfil,
Thine is to trust in Heaven !"
[Mrs. Hcmans.

Smarts from prrioDicalB.

in person Prince Albert Is highly
prepossessing,
with an expression
indicative of grent good sense and good
feeling. His manners are unassuming
and amiable, and his conversation is
just such as it is to be expected from
a very woll-hred and well-informed man.
He speaks English with great fluency
and a good accent, and, in a word,
is a favourable specimen of the best
tyle of gentleman. To bo sure, he
does not possess some of the qualifications which are highly prized by our
young men of fashion. He is a bad
boxer, and cannot drive four in hand ;
and we should strongly dissuade the
owner of a favourite from entrusting
an important race to his Royal Highness's jockeysbip. But, on the other
and, as a painter, as a performer and

even composer of mnsic, he nas given

proof of superior talent. We have before us a collection of songs and ballads,
suited on the title-page to have been
written, and set to music, by Princea
Albert and Ernest.
The poetry is
chiefly by Prince Emest, the music by
Prince Albeit In three of the songs
Prince Emest is the author both of
words and music. Prince Albert doe
not appear as a poet
We have been pleased with the song*
of Prince Ernest, which breathe a
kindly spirit, and show a mind susceptible of the influence of strong feelings of domestic attachment. The song
of ' Schlaf, O ! schlaf mein Kindelien,'
is excellent of its kind, but the trauslation gives a very faint idea of the
tenderness, and delicacy of the original

t 82 J
finch, then, it the voting man hum
fortune, propitious alike to alt the par.
ties most interested, has destined to
fill the high position of consort of the
Queen of England. All Englishmen
must be deeply interested in him. It
is impossible but that he must exercise
some influence over the royal mind,
and it is of vast importance that that
influence should be wisely exercised.
We may congratulate ourselves thai nil
that is kuown of him is highly in his
favour ; that be is known to possess
a good heart, good abilities, an irre
proachable character, refined tastes, and
agreeable manners, and that, in short,
descent, circumstance, and personal en
dowments, have in him combined to
form precisely the character whom effecti onaie subjects would wish to see united
to a youthful Queen. Westtn'mlerReview.
Cham fort said of the ancient go
vernment of France that it was a
monarchy tempered by songs. The
present government is a monarchy
tempered (or distempered) by news
papers. The stanza is superseded by
the paragraph: the cktinxonnier gives
place to the fcuUUtonmstcf and Be ran
ger is thrust out of fashion by Juuin.
Enter the Chamber of Peers when
a new batch are to take their seats,
and the odds are that every third
man of them is an editor or ex-editor.
Attend the Chamber of Deputies on a
field-day, and the must influential
speaker will be a gentleman of the
press. Dine at the Rncber de Cancale, and the chief room is engaged
by a ridarteiir en vhtf: ask for a stall
at the TheAtrc Francai*, when Mars
or Kachel is to act, and the best are
secured for his contributors'.
That
suite of rooms, brilliantly lighted, has
heen fitted up by the founders f a
journal, Who give a ball to. night 111
honour of the undertaking; that grandCross of the legion of honour, who is
just coming out, gained his decora
tions by his articles: that splendidly,
dressed woman, who is just going in,
is thn daughter of a millionnairo, who
lately bestowed her hand and fortune
en a journalist: that gay cabriolet,
bow dashing through the street, be
longs to a theatrical critic, who sup
ports himself by levying contributions
on the singers and dancers of the
opera. Vvgue In galert! Power, plea,
suro, places, wealth, ribands, stars,
fceuKises, ttuilKd turkeys, and cham

pagne, all showered down in endless

profusion upon men, many of whom
were living an cinqiiieme in want or
downright necessaries until the glori
ous Revolution of July ! No wonder
that they are intoxicated with their
success) that they have grown giddy
with their elevation; .that) like other
usurpers, they have forgotten the prim
ciples which raised them to the thione,
or, like other possessors of irresponsi
ble authority, have become capricious,
tyrannical, and corrupt: no woinler,
lastly, that their dynasty is now tot
tering to its fall. Quarterly Review.
In a lucubration of one of our po
litical illuminali, we tuis week find
the following declaration:"Emigra
tion, especially emigration as at pre
sent conducted, is a dead loss to this
country, and a subtraction from its
resources. It is like a man giving
away fractions of his fortune without
return. Emigration is the exportation
of capital, labour, and principle from
the country, none of which we cm
spore. '1 he doctrine of over-population
is blasphemy against Diviuo Provi
dence." This language is an excel
lent specimen of the stupid and au
dacious ignorance, which is by no
means infrequent among the Gorumnknot-cutting political writers of the day.
With the doctrine of over-population,
at present, we shall not meddle. What
means our dogmatist when he tells
us that emigration is like a " man
giving away fractions of his fortune
without return f Of course, upon this
principle we get no wool from Aus
tralia, no sugar and come from the
West Indies, no timber from Canada,
no cotton from the United State, no
indigo from India. Of Course, too,
ottr colonies create no demand for our
manufactures, give no stimulus to our
commerce, and employ none of our
shippingthey take no cloths from
Yorkshire, no cottons from Lancashire,
no cutlery from Sheffield, uo iron
work from Birmingham ! Why, instead
of emigration being like a man giving
away " fractions of his fortune with
out adequate return,1' it is like a man
putting out his money at compound
interest, so that he is sure to receive
Cent, per cent, in the. process of time.
Is Mis a sample of the instruction
which the community is to receive
from ottr teachers in political scinica,
tf. A. Record.

83

REGISTER OF WEATHER AT THE MADAWELLATENNE ESTATE

FOR AUGUST 1840.

It will be seen front

the accompanying
Pluvio
tables that a tnora
Remarks.
12 ometer.
unfavorable month
for agricultural ope
Aug. 6a.m :lock 6p.m
rations could not
1 ' 74* 79 73v 0
6
well occur ; in fact
C 1.1 v. 5c slight shower
78 74
0 31
2 74
the heat of the
Do.
Do.
3 75 79 74
m o nth almost
Warm & dry.
78 73
0 14
throughout was
4 71
CM v.&sli^ht shower.
It
72
72
78
5
29
qual to that of tho
Do.
Do.
73 78 71
u 1')
dry months of Fe
Do.
Do.
7 72 79 74
7
1
bruary and March,
Do.
Do.
8 74 80
and
the quantity of
Hot & dry.
9 73 82 75
rain, only about 5
Do.
10 72 M
7t
inches totally put
Do.
Jl 74 83 74
a stop to Paddy
Do.
12 75 84 75
sowing in all parts
Do.
13 74 83 70
of this side of the)
Do.
14 72 82 71
Central Province
Do.
IS 70 82 74
with the excptlon
Do.
16 71 81
74
of sowing by tho
Do.
17 70 82 73
owners of fields
Do.
18 72 83 73
within the limits of
Do.
19 70 83 75
a hill stream.
Do.
20 71
82 73
In Coffee Plant
Do.
21 71
83 74
ing little was done,
Do.
22 70 81 74
beyond clearing tu
Do.
71
23 72 81
gronuds of the very
Do.
72
24 |70 81
heavy crop of weeds
Do.
25 ,70 80 7-1
produced by tho
Do.
26 ,72 82 75
Do.
rain of the preced
27 70 82 73
Fi ne showers.
ing two months, a
1) 85
28 71 78 72
Fine rain.
few acres were put
II 40
29 ,72 76 71
Do.
in at the beginning
II
30 ,70 76 71
10
Do.
and end of the
31 ,70 78 73
0 60
month, which show
good promise ; thn
75 84 75
1 92 Maximum.
very small supply
70 76 70
Minimum.
of rain after such
72 80* 71
Average range.
an unprecedentedly hot season is of
*ery unnsual occurrence, and of course has vry much impeded planting, but
P is hoped that the October 'rains will, by a good supply, make the yearly
*wats iiot itu Uluw Uuti of good seasons.
KOBBE GALLA,
Thermometer.

84

REGISTER OF WEATHER ON THE HANTENNE ESTATE FRAjdj

THE IbT TO, THE 15th SEPTEMBER 1840.

Sept.

6 A. M

Noon.

6 P. M.

GO-

68"?

66

66

68

66

first -week with gentle breezes.

66

72

66

planters in this part were consequently

66

67

66

induced to renew their operations in

66

70

67

placing out young trees and forming

66

71

67

nurseries. During the second week there

68

72

68

was a constant succession of light re

68

74

68

freshings howers, altogether more than in

70

74

72

the proceeding, which have proved highly

10

70

72

68

beneficial to the planters work.

11

68

70

68

oae is taking advantage of the cool

V*

70

72

70

showery weather to make amends for

13

70

71

69

the very indifferent planting season wo

14

68

70

68

had last rains.

15

68

70

68

ple on this estate is excellent, there

!".,

Frequent light showers during tta

not being,

. .

The.

Every

The health of the peo

or having been,

a singls

.
Max:

Therm:

74*

Min:

Do.

66

Jttedium.

Co.

68

case oX fever or sickness of any kind.

-*-

[ 88 1
$IART KEPT. IN THE VALE OF DOOMBERANEAR LKANpY.
August September 1840,
From August \6th to 22rf. A continuation o the dry, b.ot leather of last
week with a cloudless sky. Moderate breezes from the W. S. W. with little
if any dew falling duriug tha niglit. Average pf- Tbennom : 6. a. m. 70^
2. P. M. 80 8. p. m. 77. Operations. This dry weather is taken advantage of to
clear weeds and jungle, and to bum such wood as may have been previ
ously piled and dried ; the moderate brcez_e assises this, operation much. The
general appearance of the trees in this locality is unfavourable, for during
^his monsoon when little dew falls, all vegetation appears to suffer more
from a cessation of rain than in the N. E. monsoon. On elevated spots
the leaves are turning yellow and many of the plants are drooping.
Avgmt 23rd to 29tk.This week began with a change from the dry clear
weather of the lastLight clouds with moderate breezes from W. S. \V. all
jay in the early part, and light continued showers the last 3 days of ths
week, with little or no sunshineTher: average in the early part of the
week73* 6, A. M. 78 2. p. m. 76 > 8. p. M.The hist 3 rainy days70* 74-
72?. Operations. Keeping the parts that have been planted and those which
are in bearing, more particularly, free from we**ds ; planting as usual during
the rains which are now of great service iu bringing the coffee to its full size
previous to ripening.
.August 30th, to September 5th. A continuation of cloudy, showery weather
all this week, with strong breezes lrom the W. S. W. during the day Mak
ing the climate cool and pleasant. Range of the Ther: 72" 6. A. M. 76" 2.
p. M. 75" 8. p. ii.Though we bare had showers every day yet it is aston
ishing bow small a quantity of ram actually fall in this valley compared
with what falls to the south-eastward' of this place, as in Kandy, distant net
four miles. This is not peculiar to Ceylon; many tropical islands, as in
tha West Indies, have valleys distant only 2 or 3 miles from each other varying
exceedingly in their climate. Operations. This week there has been as usual
much work on newly planted estates; besides these the planter whose estate
is in bearing begins to get ready his pulping houses, cisterns, draining
platforms, ccc, for preparing the coming crop; sets that his dam, water
course, &c., are all right to convey the water to his cisternsfor the rains
which fall during crop gathering are generally heaviest from the change
whtch then occurs iu the monsoon.
*'
September 6th to \2th.A good deal of wind all this week fronj the S. W,
generally clear weather, with a very slight shower occasionally, hi the middle
of the day, and a fierce sun in the intervals. Ther ; average 74u 6. a. m.
77k 2. p. M. 75" 8. p. m. Operations.The same as last week. In some
parts of the estate a few berries are becoming ripe, and if more rain fell
the whole 'crop would soon ripen On the Colombo side of Kandy the na
tive gardens and one or two plantations can show many ripe berries ou
the trees,
September \3th to 19M.This week has been drier than the last. Though
the weather has been generally cloudy, no rain, with the exception of one or
two very slight showers, ^an fallen, and those not sufficient toj penetrate the anil
an inch deepthe breeze has been strong from the 8. W. until the last day
or two, when the weather bos become close and hot, with a tealm and cloudy
atmosphere which is generally the precursor of rain hereTher : average
t*i <. a. . 77 2. s, M. 76* 8, P. M. ' '

Operation!.Continued the sameThis weather is favourable *ni U ahaays

taken advantage of at this season, to get land cleared, pickets laid down
and ready for opening holes and planting by the October rains which are mora
to be depended upon, in. this valley, than theMay rains. The Coffee tree in
some parts of the estates though loaded with fruit, look very yellow and
evidently suffer from the want of Sufficient rain. A few days rainy weather
Would bring on a general ripening.
Health.Europeans are certainly improving in this respectbut the Native^
Kandiaus and Cinghak-se, in this part of the country still suffer much from
a species of brain fever, intermittent diarrhea and dysentry., &c. &c. TK
Malabar coolies on the estates suffer equally, and several deaths have oc
curred.

l?RRJt>k
fa No. 1. Page 7, line 11,. tot "does" read "do."

Page 15, Una 36, for " 1819 " read " 1815."

COLOMBO:
HUTTED AI IBS HSUAiD PRE*-.

CEYLON MAGAZINE
No. III.

November, 1840-

Vol. L

THE READER.

No. m.
uilton's paradise regained.
Tale tnnm carmen nobis, divine Poeta,
Quale sopor fessis in graminc ; quale, per aestum
Dulcis aquae saliente sitim restinguere rivo.
[Virgilii Bucstica.Ecl. v. 45,
O heavenly poet? such thy verse appears,
So sweet, so charming to my ravished ears,
As to the weary swain with cares opprest,
Beneath the sylvan shade, refreshing rest ;
As to the feverish traveller, when first
Be finds a chrystal stream to quench his thirst.
Dryden.

The merit of a work cannot be duly estimated unless the ob

ject of the author in its construction be considered. In the com
parison,commonly instituted between Milton's two great poems,
the Paradise Lost and Paradise Regained,the Author's views, as
well as the subjects of the respective poems, must be examined

t 88 ]
leflire a correct judgment can be formed of the real merits of these
noble compositions.
The striking selectness of all Milton's poetical works shews that
he hud a most exact judgment, His plans, so far from being
defective, as has been alleged of Paradise Regained,were always
perfect; and they were tilled up in the most appropriate and just manner.
Jf we except, perhaps, his occasional gorgeousness of expression,
if his highly wrought and picturesque language may be so termed,
from a mind richly embued with every kind of learning, a bril
liant fancy, and a sublime imagination, he never over-did any
thing : and who could part with this richness of coloring, of which
*' Iris dips the woof ?" The conception and the entire plan of his
works are perfect. If the opulence of language and the richness of
imagery, to which I have referred, be faults,but who, I repeat,
would consent to part with such felicitous crimes for the sake of
an over-niceness of fastidious criticism ?they are those of style only,
with which he filled, and as it were over-gorged his outlines.
The mind of the author ought, therefore, to be consulted as to
what he intended to represent by his several works. We should go
to the cause before we judge of the effect. Some fine clear prin
ciple always lies under the beautiful machinery and the eloquent
discourse of Milton's poetry. As springs which lie deepest in the
earth, and are the most difficult of access, do, when discovered,
commonly cast up the purest water; so the profound truths, which
to " the million " are so hidden as to be effectually buried under
the mass of his writings,which to such persons appear but as an
assemblage of hard and unintelligible words,are to the eyes, which
can pierce into the depths, of a virtue that is scarcely short of
divine. 'Hie spirit that informs the whole
" Broods o'er the vast abyss,
And makes its pregnant."

Let us then, in the first place, consider the principle which Milton il
lustrates in his two great poems, Paradise Lost and Paradise Regained.
"Without ibis mode of construction, the Bible itself were no more than a
simple history, necessary only to teach our children the rudiments of
reading, and to amuse their infantine fancies with the stories, many and
most of which are beautiful and touching in themselves, and most ex

89

quisitelv told. These poems, having for their hoses the tyo great
truths ol the Old and New Testament, especially demand this spe
cies of consideration.
The Paradise Lost is founded upon the Fall of Man through on
act of disobedience, which
<' Brouyl.t death into the world, and all our woe,
With loss of Eden."

The immeasurable distance, which in the nature of things subsists

between corruption and incorrupiion, the state of grace and the slate of
siu, and between life and immortality, and death and destruction, into
which, without the divine grace and support, we must inevitably havo
fallen, is so " vast vacuity," that, were wc not upholden by the
Pivine Hand, like our Poet's awlul portraiture of Satan in the
vortex of Chaos, we
" To this hour
Down had he.en falling."

Man had fallen from a " pernicions height," as the dieadful

consequences of this act of sin have fatally proved it ; aud though it
would appear that to effect his full was a task of small difficulty
to the subtile tempter ; yet to rc-ascend the steep whence he was
precipitated, is not so easily to be accomplished. One of the salutary
effects, which was perhaps the purpose of Divine Wisdom in per
mitting the temptation and the fall ol man, was, while teaching
us our weakness and dependence, without the grace of God, to in
struct us further as to the infinite distance between holiness and
virtue, and ungodliness and sin ; that thus, by the aid of the Di
vine grace, we may advance towards the perfection of our] natura
by the blameless exercise of our free will.
Here then., in this eternal separation of train and error, openqd
a mighty field for a genius, such as Milton's, to spread " his sailbroad vans," All his ministers must of necessity be above huma
nity. They were indeed " Ministers of Vengeance." It was em
phatically a field of action. Action is the animating soul of tins
poem,
" High actlong and high passions best describing."
There is a grandeur in action that is taken in by the eye, and
captivates the soul. An Alexander has acquired more fame, properly

90

so called, in the world, than a Plato. Caesar is more universally

celebrated, among men, as a great warrior, for bis conquest of Gaul,
than as an eloquent writer, for describing Lis conquests in his
elegant commentaries. But in the more intelligent eye of contem
plation, the calm philosopher is immeasurably mure worthy of true
glory than the mighty conqueror ; and the pen of the eloquent his
torian is of more real power than the sword of the greatest general
that ever commanded the legions of Rome.
" Tbis attracts the soul,
Governs the iuuer man, the nobler part ;
That other o'er the body only reigns,
And oft by force, which to a generous mini1.,
So reigning, can be no sincere delight."
Paradise Regained. II. 476.

It is not to be wondered at that the Paradise Lost, the chief

business- of which is action, should be so generally, and so decidedly
preferred before the Paradise Regained, a purely contemplative poem,
the chief, and almost the sulc business o( which is discourse. Like
the life of ^the Divine Hero of this sublime poem, the spirit of Pa
radise Regained is
" Private, unactive, calm, contemplative."

I will add, too, that it is better executed : for it is far from my

purpose to pluck a solitary leaf from the unfading wreath of glory*
with which Fame has encircled the mighty Name of Milton, in per
haps the noblest effort of human genius, the Paradise Lost,"awe
stricken as I am by contemplating the operations of the mind of
tbis truly great poet."* Nor, for a moment to advert to the Pa
radisc Lost, can the sublime subject, and the inimitable execution of
the mighty poet, be so truly and so finely depicted, as by some ex
quisite lines of Virgil, which Milton has nobly imitated in the
seventh book of his poem. I refer the reader to the passages of
both these great poets in the margin. f
But while I pay this just and willing tribute to the excellence of
this fust and greatest Epic Poem which the world ever saw, I must
WordsworthSee his fine preface to his poems, which, with his other cri
tical essays, should be read day and night by the philosophical man of taste.
f l'uradisu Lost. B. VII. 270. Yirg: Eclog VI. 31.

[ 91 ]
express my equal admiration of, and my deep veneration for the Pdet
himself. I would have all the works of his vast genius to have
their due proportion of praise assigned to them. Nor can they fuil
to have this justice done to them, if they be examined by compe
tent minds, and relatively and properly understood^ One should not
be extolled at the expense of another. It adds not to the beauty
and excellence of the one admired. These are the arts of inferior
merit. No one of Milton's works detracts from another : (I spe*ak
of his poetical wonks; though, as touching his mighty genius and
amplitude of mind, the remark may be extended to his eloquent
prose works, with the principles of many of which I cannot concur).
If they do set oil' each other, it is not by the contrast of light and
shade, where
" Each gives each ft double charm.
Like peails upon the Ethiop's arm."

But it is by kindred merit, like a consetellation of brilliant stars,

which, though tbey be of different magnitude, shine all with the
same celestial light and glory, and have each their allotted path
in the same etherial heaven.
This illustration is strikingly applicable to the poems before os.
Not only buih the self-same fire touched the lips of the Poet
irom the same hallowed altar of inspiiation; but the one poem'is
incomplete without tie other. If it be asked why Paradise Lost,
which is composed of action, should be better executed, which it
confessedly is, than Paradise Regained, which is contemplative ?'it
will be best answered by another question ; why is the Old Tes
tament more sublime than the New ? No one, I think, will
deny that the poetry of the Hebrew Scriptures is incomparably
moie splendid, the imagery more grand, and the language mure
striking to the imagination, than perhaps any portion of the New
Testament, and ceitainly than the New Testament as a whole.
We may perhaps except the Apocalypse of St. John, and a few
magnificent passages of St. Paul. The Apocalypse is the consum
mation of the whole Scheme of Christianity : and being ol the na
ture of prophecy, it partakes of the same character, and is for
the same reason sublime, as the prophetic poetty of the He
brew Scriptures. The essence of these noble Hebrew Odes con

92

stitutes the very elements of sublime poetry, action and mystery.

these are all tilings

In

" That fancy ran beget on youthful thoughts

" When, the fresh blood grows lively"

It is observed by Mi. Wordsworth, in the treatise already cited and

referred to, that "the great storehouses of authentic and meditative
imagination, of poetical as contradistinguished from human and dvamatic, are the prophetic and lyrical poets of the Holy Scriptures,
and the works of Milton-"
The light of truth, amid the dubious twilight of mystery which
enwraps the Hebrew prophecies as with a shadowy cloud, is in
cessantly at work, and acts upon the imagination, like the stars
twinkling in the remote and inaccessible distances of the heavens
at night. The brightness, which was hidden in the prophecies
beneath the veil of mystery and obscurity, was but imperfectly
discovered ; as the moon dimly seen through her half transparent
veil of silvery clouds. AH this at once captivates the soul. It awes
the imagination, like the silent preparations for a battle. It elevates
the doubtful and undecided faculties of the mind into a sublime
apprehension. Whereas the calm and serene air of the New Tes
tament, which unfolds the Scheme of Revelation like the plot of some
bigh story, and chases away the clouds of doubt, and sets the truth
in her native and naked simplicity before the minds's eye,
leaves nothing for the imagination to speculate on, and nothing to
engage the passions of apprehension and fear. It is as a goldpn
pedestal, upon which is elected 'he fair form of Truth, that she may
be visible to the naked eye in the clear light of the sun. There is. a
silent sublimity in this portion of the Sacred Volume, an assurance
of faith and hope, "Ja sober certainty of waking bliss," which
demands an uninipitssioncd and a well-prepared soul to con
template.
B.

<J?ngIiBlj

&nthoTco,r).

[Tub following pieces are ipeciment of different kiu.ls of compositions of

the Troubadours, and,[other writers in verse, in the ancient Provencal dialect.
These Poems, and fragments of poems, embrace every species of composition,
except the epic and dramatic ; namely, the lyric, pathetic, didactic, eccle
siastic, and humourous. They were extracted from an elaborate work of
the Count de Villeneuve, for many years Preffit of Marseilles, on the Boucke$
du Mine. They are translated as literally as the form of verse will permit.]

III.
[From the Probengdl.)
Twould break my heart to say farewell,
If love were not more fond when far }
When we shall meet I cannot tell,
Our countries lie apart so far.
O Thou, who form'st the world below,
And hast my heart inspired from far
With love,God, grant me power to know,
To cherish hope when I am fur.
0 Lord, preserve, I thee conjure,
For her tne love I date from far ;
Alone I leave her, and endure

A thousand ills, from her afar.

1 ne'er can know another love,
Too happy in this love, though far ;
Such beauty ne'er my soul can move
In other place, nor near, nor fai.
IV.
{frem the same.)
Ye gods, as merciful as just, yon see
Her heart than marble more inflexible ;
To shun her rigour vain is my endeavour ;
Make, I implore, to ease my miseiy,
Her heart as honey soft, that I may tell
That she to me is sweet as she is beauteous ever."
B.

t 94 ]
V.
farewell to thee dearest ! when far o'er the Ocean>
I shall dream of the land of the fearless and free,
With a fulness of heart and a flood of emotion
That is worthy alone of old England and thee.
Farewell ! when the billows around me are swelling,
And the die Of ray fate and and my fortune is cast,
My thoughts will recur and my fancy be dwelling
On the moments of pleasure and happiness past.
Though I fly to a land where all nature is teeming
With visions of beauty and scenes of delight;
Where the sun on his own vivid region is gleaming;
Where the skies are more clear and the stars are more bright
Yet I leave thee, fair being, I leave thee in sadness,
For though far o'er the lace of the Earth I may roam,
Still I dream of the days of youth's innocent gladness,
And the hopes of my boyhood lie buried at Home.
Farewell ! when the waters around me are heaving
And I gaze on the distant and lessening shore,
J low vain will the sigh be for those I am leaving,
And the land that perchance I may visit no more.

X
VI.
We'rise up in the morn replete with joy,
Taking, no thought of wisdom, but of life
And evanescent things : we make a feast
Prepare rich flasks of wineinvite our friends
To feast and revel at the set of sun.
But ere the shadow of that sun has made
It's way half round the dial ere the wine
Has cool'd within the gobletsere the flowers
Twined into festive garlands o'ei the walls,
Have 'gun to fade and wither,ere the guests
Have reached the banquet-hall, Death enters in
And lays the host and all his pride in dust.

d. C. M.

t 9* 3
HISTORY OF THE QUEEN ALLIYARASANY.
(Republished from the Colombo Journal of March 23, 1833, with additions.}
Br Simon Casie Chitty, Esq.

According to traditions In circulation among the natives, AUiyarasany, or

as he was otherwise called Sittrankadei, reigned over the north vest coast of
Ceylon. I am not aware, that there has ever appeared any regular history
of her rsign, but having gleaned the following particulars from a Tamil
drama entitled " AUiyarasany Kataha " (which though enveloped in fable yet
serves as a clue to future research) I offer them in the hope, that they may
not prove uninteresting*
AUiyarasany derived her name from a flower, which the Tamils call Alii
(1) as it is fabled that she was born of it (2); it is said that a certain king
of the Pandiya dynasty (3), who governed Kanni (4), having failed in obtaining an issue to succeed to the throne of his ancestors, retired to a forest
and there performed a long, and austere |tapasya (or penance) in honor of
Siva (3). One ,day Siva and his consort Parvati (6), in rambling over tlio
earth, chanced to pass the spot where king Pandiyan was thus engaged.
Parvati enquired of Siva who he was, and what he desired, to which
Siva replied, that he was a king and desired offspring, but that one were
allotted him. At this, Parvati was much grieved, and observed that having
performed so severe a tapasya, it would almost atnouut to an injustice to
refuse his request ; npon which (to satisfy Parvati) Siva took the sweat o
his brow, and snapping it from his finger, it fell on an Alii flower, and
immediately a gill oi the most exquisite beauty sprung from it. Siva then
took her in his arms, named her AUiyarasany, after the flower, and gave het
to the king, bidding him at the same time adopt her as his own daughter.
The king delighted with the gift (as well as the charms of the girl) took her
to the city, and gave her over to his wife. When she had attained the age
of maturity, he placed her apart from him, in a magnificent palace, where
she was numerously attended.
King Pandiyan was tributary to another king named Atagaputra (7), who
governed the country Kurkhi (8), and having failed to remit the tribute
money for three years, this king sent massengers to obtain it:as soon as
they had arrived at the court of Pandiyan, and made known the object of
their mission, he gave them the arrears of the tribute money, and bade them
return; on their way, however, they passed the palace of AUiyarasany, who
over-hearing them praise their own king, at the expense of her father, sum
moned them into her presence; and having taken from them the tribute
soney, caused their heads, to be shaven, and then dismissed them (0),
M

t 98 )
tt*ring relumed to the conrt of Altiqoputra, ai>o! ihlotmte' Mm of tbe treat.
Bf t they bad received from Allryaratany, of which their bald beads were"
ei Krient testimony, Alajapttlra

determined to resent the insult, and tier*!

fore collected a numerous army, resolving to captore Alliyarasany, and make

brr subservient to bis daughter Paralastita,

When Alliyora.-any beard of the

invasion of her father's territories by king Ahmpulro, she was

not in the

Dmllest degree intimidated, bnt with undaunted courage, assembled all her
fatb-r's
(.11.

forces,

and placing herself at their head,

met the enemy in tbe

After a severe contest she proved victorious, slew Ahpaputra, dispersed

bis troops, took possession of his country, and made Farahisrna prisoner ; ~
but afterwards, finding the latter a skilful politician, as veil as an agreeable"
companion, slie made a confidante of her, and appointed ber) Prime
ter of state.

minis

After these events, Tandiiiatt resigned a part of Ms kingdom

to AllfynrauUij), mho, uniting to it that which she had obtained by conquest,

be-: me the sovereign of a very extensive empire.
Is involved in doubt, bnt tradition fixes

Where she held her couri

it at Koodrrmatc (10).

Her rrve-

Dbes were chiefly derived from tbe extensive pearl fisheries nhich were theti
cliiied on along tbe coast (II),

as the Vartncat (15), who were employed

ifi this service, were obliged to furnish her every season with ten Ealams
(r3), of pearls, under pain of decapitation.

To satisfy so large a demand for*

pearls, they were worn to rove about the different parts of the coast (proba
bly, both here, and oh the opposite side), hiid while thus roving, they were
olie day met by tbe

king Arjutta, (14) who

was then on a visit to the

holy places in the south of India, accompanied by bis friend Astratottia (15),
Arjuua enquired of the Virarrnt the route to

Madura, (16), but they

met

Ks question with so much surl;ness, fin consequence, of the ill success they
had in

search

of

of their discontent.

pearl

oysters) that

he

was leJ

to ask them the causS'

They then recounted to him their occupation, and the"

extianrdinarv accomplishments, and personal charms of Alliynrasany, as well

as the magnificence of her court.

Arjtma was so much enchanted with

the'

sfcconnt, that he determined to gain her heart, but conscious at the same time or
the difficulties' fie would have to encounter, even to obtain a sight of so
(treat a princess, he became quite

distracted.

Arvna wore a lmstiral ring"

fXh hi finder, which had Ix-en given to him by PlsKnti (17,) and that god
apprehending that he would lose it in his present disordered state, came*
cVwn from the Vaihoonta (IR) and Rssnmln the disguise of > female forfcne-teller, appeared liefore Arjtmn, who bade him tell his fortune,

r!a\ing

examined tbe lines on his palm, she told him that he was distined to grace'
the. bid

of Allit/aravtny,who was to

Jborrou, on a swing (IS>).

make

a public exhibition on IhS'

Overjoyed at this intelligence,

<V the female, fortune-teller, who departed-

be gave the rinfc

Arjtma now being joined by hhf

ftiend Arirdtama related what had passed, and the fortune-teller's prediction jIt was in vain that the Utter urged tfriir departure, or attempted to dives*

 W 3
the thought* of Arjiina from their object,he was too .much in low, ra
to pass the interval with an) degree of tranquilly; he. was impatient [of
the hour of Alliyaiiasany's appearance, and when at length it was iiuimim ol,
he dis-guised himself as

a Brahman,

and presented himself before her on

the playground, offering her at the same time a goblen ball to play withj
he was ruurli disconcerted however to hud that she received the Salter witbt
a look of great displeasure, and returned to her palace.

Vejted at the ill-

success of his gallantry, Arjiina returned to a solitary arbor, to meditate on

what had passed, until the next day, when learning that Jllii/nnaan/i lutA
gone on horseback to a neighbouring forest to hunt, he followed her thither^
j&Riijitmniiiii seeing him approach, desired him to pick up tbp arrows whiub,
were shot, and when the sport was over, she (being roach faUgucd) alighted
from her horse, and bidding him spread a carpet for her, she seated herself
pn it.

Arjima having assumed a disguise, and

respectful distance: she however, desired

but he

acting up to it, stood at a,

him to sing to her, which he did,

was unfortunate in the subject of his ditty, for it was of "I.ovk;''

{be commanded him therefore with a sarcastic air, to keep out of her sight,
and then returned

home to her

palace.

Having on this

occasion had a,

pearer view of Alliyaramny, Arjiina was overwhelmed with love and retiring
pnee more to bis

solitary arbor, fell on the ground, and bewailed the urv

ifcappy circumstance, which kept him from her ; arid his imagination picture^}
the delight he could experience, if he could only enjoy her society.

'\Yhih

thus distressed, ho was again joined by his friend Asuutama, who conjureysj
liim to consider, how the gods
tiy

their passions

themselves bad beam,; involved in trouble,

for the female

sex; but Arjiina was d< af to all his coy

treaties, and informed him that his resolution

irould either gain

the heart

of AWyarasaiiy

was unalterable, " that ha

or perish

in the

attempt^"

AsiraUima now left him, and Arjuna pendered long on what course to adopt,
in order to obtain admission to the palac ; he at last determined to dray
the portrait of Alliyarnsany, and to go with it in the disguise of an Anility^
or mendicant

(20.) He accordingly took the bark of the l'imnci tree (21),

drow her portrait from memory, and when completed, proceeded to the palurej
he was at first

refused admittance,

but on

assuring

.sought only for alms, was ullowed to proceed.

the third gate, he there took
held before him.

porters tlmt be

bis seat, fixing his eyes on the portrait he,

The maids of honor reported

tana, who directed them

the

Having advanced as far as

the circumstance to l'niml<p

to enquire of the Aantly what he desired, but as

be kept a strict silence, they mentioned it to AUiyaraiany, whose answer was,

that " if he did not quit the palace immediately, to cut off his head."

Vaen-

lasena however, remonstrated against this, observing, thut he was; a mendicant

and perhaps >ioa himself, who might

have come in that

disguise, as b*

had before done, when the river laipai (22) overflowed, and tbieatened dea>
Unction to the country.

It was at length agreed upon as the best means of

98

driving him away, to let loose some serpents, and elephants before him;
this however had no effect, he remained inimoveably fixedand took no no
tice of, or interest in 'what passed. Vavalaacna therefore advaaced towards
him, and questioned him as to his object in visiting the palace ; he however
made no answer for a considerable time, but at length after repeated solici
tation be informed her, that he had come to present Alliyaratany with soma
Tipooti or holy ashes and that as soon as she would come and receive
them, he would depart Yavalasena immediately communicated this to Alliyaratany, who was prevailed on to comply with his desire and he left the pa
lace. It is said that the ashes were enchanted, and that as soon as the
Aandy was gone, Alliynrasany was much disturbed, fell languid on the ground,
and appeared in imminent danger. Vavalasena alarmed sent for all the phy
sicians in the city, in hopes of curing the distemper, but their art was in
effectual, since the cause was in her mind, and therefore no time was lost
in reporting the circumstance to her father Vandiyan. On receipt of this
intelligence, Pandiyan accompanied by his royal consort, immediately jour
neyed to their daughter, and suspecting that Tavalaiena must have done
some thing to retaliate the death of her own father, upbraided her with
treachery, Pavalauna protested her innocence, but to no purpose; she there
fore approached Alliyarasany, and conjured her to declare the cause of her
distemper; upon which she told her father, that she was under the
influence of love, and that it had come upon her since receiving
the ashes. Pandiyan now resolved to dispose of her in marriage and according
to custom, in the disposal of princesses (23) sent heralds through the country,
to proclaim the beauty and accomplishments of Alliyarasany, and called together
an assembly of king and princes, from whom she might personally select him
ahe preferred. When the assembly was thus formed, Arjuna in his disguise
was among them, and on Alliyarasany entering the Hall, her father desired
her to whirl her gold chain, and throw it on the neck of the individual "she
selected. Still labouring under the enchantment, Alliyarasany against both
pride and will, threw the chain on the neck of the Amidy ; upon which the
kings and princes, who were assembled proudly left the place, Alliyarasany now
recovering from her delusion, and feeling the disgrace she bad brought on
herself, by becoming the wife of an Aaudy, fell on the ground, and attempted
to destroy herself. Arjuna then discovered himself, she was restored to tranquillity, and their nuptials were celebrated with great pomp.
Here the drama concludes, and the history of ber latter years is left in
obscurity. There is, however, a tradition, that as she was witnessing the feats
of a rope dancer, some imprecations having .accidentally escaped her, the sea
fwelled, and swept hex and her whole capitol away together.

t 99 ]
NOTES.
1.

Nymplue Lotos. Lin.

2. An account of Alliyarasany, un
der the title of Sitlru-regni, is found
in that section of Bartidam entitled
Tertha-yalm Padalam ; hut no allusion,
however, is made there to this fahle.
She is merely represented as the daugh
ter of Sitrabahu Pandiyan, king of
Madura.
3. One of the three dynasties of
Tamil kings who continued to reign
separately and at the siflue time over
three distinct kingdoms in the south
of India, from B. C. 1500, until they
were overthrown by the Teliigu sove
reigns of Vijayanagar in the period be
tween A. D. 14'JO and 1515.
4. Kanni, the same as Komari, the
Tamil name of Cape Comorin. The
kingdom of the Pandiyasonce extend
ed from Bameswaram on the east, to
Cape Comorin on the south,
6. Siva, the supreme deity of the
Hindoos, though ranked the" last in
their triad.
6. Parvati, the energy of Siva, personified as his consort.
7. Alagapulra, probably an usurper,
of whom, however, no mention occurs
in the history of the Vundiya kingdom.

. supposed to be the Hijipuriif ot

JHipporus, mentioned by Pliny (lib, VI,
cap. 22); the port to which a freedinani
of Asm us Plocamus (who farmed the
customs of the Red sea in the reign oj
the Emperor Claudius) was unexpected,
ly driven, after having been blown
off tbe coast of Arabia in a violent
tempest, and whose passage is said to
have been fifteen days. A very long
standing tradition has fixed upon it us
the site of the residence ot Alliyarasany,
and Sir Alexander Johnston in a nota
appended to one of his communica
tions to the Royal Asiatic Society (Vide
Transactions, vol. I. p. 545), mentions
that in 1808, he found there " ths
remains of many very large buildings,*
which were, however, not forthcoming
when I visited the place in 1826.
There are indeed some ruins, but
manyinUcs inland of Kbodremale,&nd per
haps he, Sir Alexander alludes to them.
Of these ruins, the most remarkable
are those found in a forest cullsd,
Qruchchaifipoo Kalloo, about 5 miles
east of the village of Kattaukaudel, at *
considerable distance from the high
road leading to Manaar. They con
sist of a great number of granitp
pillars and pavements of bricks. There
is also an inscription on a rock in
their neighbourhood, the characters of
which bear a very close resemblance
to those on the pillar at Allahabad
(vide Asiatic Researches. Vol. vii. Plate
14.j. In February, 1832, I procured
a copy of this inscription, and forward
ed it to the late Ceylon Literary
Society, through Captain Gaswyne,
but was pot even favored with oa
acknowledgement.

8. Kurkhi, properly Kotkai. Profes

sor, Wilson says, that '.'according to
the Madura Parana, the residence of
the Pandiya kings was for many an es
avt a place called Kurkhi, not improba
bly the Korkhi of the ' Periplus, a city
subject to the Pandya king, as the
author observes, and, perhaps, as i)'
Axyille notices, still to be traced in
thi appellation Kilkhar, or Kilukarai,
11. The part of the pearl fishery
on the Coromandel coast, opposite \o
Kameswaram." Vide Journal of tlie Ro is corroborated by the vast quantity of
oyster shells which are found enibedyal Asiatic Society vol. III. p. 203.
i;d in the sand along the tea shore,
9. This will remind the reader of from Pukolam to Kbridatji. Vide Jour
the insult offered to the ambassadors of nal of the Royal Asiatic Society, Vol.
David, by Hanun the king of the Am iv. p. 132.
monites, 2. Sam. * 4, which insult, how12. This race of people are grill
rvcr, seems to have a peculiarity in it,
viz. shaving the beard on one side of extant both in the Southern Carnati.;,
the face only, vide Cabinet Dictionary and the best divers are found among
them.
of the Bible.
13. Kalam, a dry measure contain
10. Koodremali (Horse's Mountain),
a promontory on the N. W. coast of ing 12 markals.
Ceylon, 1st. 8 32 N. long. 79g55
14. Arjuna, one of the fire Pan?

[ ioo 3
donas, whose wars with the Kaurava
Priuce3 from the subject of the Malta
Bltarat. It was after these wars that
be set out on his pilgrimage to the
holy places in the South of India.
15. Asuatama, the son of the Brah
man Dronachari.
16. Madura, the capital of the Paniiy.i Kings,
17. Vishnu, the second person in
the Hindu triad, who in his incarna
tion as Krishna is said to have been
the Mentor of Arjutia, who was marri
ed to his sister.
] 8.

Vaikoonta, the eljsium of Vish.

19. Playing on the swing was a

Tery favorite sport anion*; the anci
ent Tamil princesses. There are
several kinds of swings, but the one
generally in vogue is called Jlalita
Ousel, or Oonjnl, and consists of a
wheel with seats upon which the per
sons sitting are turned.
20
Aaudy, a sort of bouning friar
among the Hindoos, who belongs to
the Saiva sect.
21. Calofiryllnm longifulium. Rot.
The bark of this tree seems to have
been formerly used as a substitute
for paper like the Egyptian Papyrus.
22. Va'igai, a river of note, which
waters Madura. It is related in the
Tiruvilaiyadel Puranam, that once up
on a time when this river overflowd
its banks, in consequence of the impre
cations and the rage of Manika Vasagar, the God Siva appeared in the
guise of a pond digger, and volun
teered his services to the king in
throwing up a dam to prevent the
flood from extending to bis capitol.
23. 1 hi? species of marriage is call
ed in Tamil " Saimurum," from the
Sanscrit " Swayamoirah," on her own
choice. It resembles, as Mr, Kilis has
remarked, in some respect, the marri
age assemblies, which were held at
stated periods by the Samiriles. Vido
Ellis's ConsinenUvry on At Curat, chap
ter vi, p. 166.
It should be remarked here, that the
account of Alliyurasany's marriage is

differently related In the section of the

Bariidam, which 1 have quoted else,
where, as the reader will find by the
following abridgement of it, extracted
from Mr. Taylor's Oriental Historical
Manuscripts.
" Arjuna having bathed in a river
named Calinga, and inspected the places
arouuJ, set out witn bis retinue on
further progress. He came to Tirupa.
thi, bathed ill the tank, paid homage
to the Uod, and weal to Kaslasiri }
thence he proceeded to Taxtayani (oj>
miles \V. N. W. of Madras), llieiice to
L'aiulii, going thro' similar ceremonies.
From Cauelii, proceeded to CbilUm.
baram, and thence to Sriranghaiu.
Leaving the latter place, he visited se
veral temples of inferior note, and then
caie to Madura. He went to the
King's great council in his ordinary
habiliments of a personage duine; pe
nance aud was received with great
honors uud distinction.
The King
named Sittera-btighu I'audion, (ani
sometimes called Sitteroviriya 1'unJioii)
appointed bis abode iu the royal gar
den, where the King's daughter named
Sittera-regai, accidentally seeing him,
became enamoured of him, as Arjuna
had before been by the sight of the
lady, himself then unseen. The result
was, a report to the King of his
daughter's being ill, mode by her aw
teudanls, with the addition, that a mar
riage with the stranger would alone
effect a cure. The Kin^ received this
communication with great pleasure,
having no son ; and first made oilers
on the subject to Arjuna, by wh in
they vera acceded to, and the mar
riage was duly solemnized. The King's
daughter bore a son, whom it was
agreed to name Pipravaceu aud it was
this prince, who afterwards attacked
Arj Una's horse and fought with that
hero himself."
Mr Taylor mentions, that in the
Choultry, built by '1 rimala Naicker
at Madura, the marriage of Arjuna
with the daughter of J'audiyan is sculp
tured in full relief on one of the .pil
lars out of ono block of granite, and
nearly of the ordinary human size
Vide Oriental Historical M. S. S. Vol,

l.p. 12&

101

tOETICAL SKETCHES OF THE INTERIOR OF THE ISLAND

OF CEYLON,
BY THE REV. B, BAILEY.

(Continued.}

X.
KATTAGASTOTTE FERRY.
Descend this hill : and on the other side
From that where this fell butchery was done,
Btholda fairy scene. Silent and lone,
The waters of the river gently glide,
Or sleep as now, while on the reddening tide
The sun's last beams repose ; as when they shone
On Thetis sorrowing for her hero-son,
By treacherous Paris slain. Beauty, allied
With truth and love and peace, should ever dwell
In this sweet solitude. Yet through this ford,
To where the enamoured youth might rather tel'
His tale of love, our brave men to the sword
Of savage traitors passed. Yet surely never
lUine eyes have seen a fairer, lovelier river.

XL
MAHAVAELLE GANGA.
How strange-soe'er the oriental name
Of this fair river, winding serpentine,
The Kandian capitol it doth entwine.
And sleepeth quiet in the sun's bright beam.
O'er bare rocks roll the waters of the stream,
And with their roughness the dashed wave refine
And purify. Thus by the Will Divine,
The life of man, not like a pleasant dream,
Passes' away , but flowing over rocks,
As this clear river, must he purified
By hard obstructions and by painful shocks,
Till serine refined by suffering, and pride
Repelled and humbled by the ad verse strokes
Of grief, our souls to God may be allied.

[ io* ]

xn.
DOOMBERA.

Above ibis stream the Doombera Mountain rear*

Hi* head sublime into the o'erbanging sky.
He upward soars with native majesty ;
A sense of greatness in his form appeal's ;
Authority his every feature wears ;
The numerous valleys are his own ; his eye
Asserts hfs right of single sovereignty.
'When from his clouds his lofty head he bares.
Above the subject bills which round him stand
Nobbj, yet in subjection to his will,
He, though he be determined to command,
Amid his greatness sometimes deigns to smile t
Sublimity then rests upon his head ;
Aud beauty shares his bosom and bis bed.

XIII.

ON LEAVING KANDY.

And now I am alone upon this road,

Beside these mountains and this running river.
Such scenes have been familiar to me ever ;
I love to be amid the works of God ;
Hills such as these, and river-banks I've trod,
And oft have been where mountain heights endeavor,For so it seemsito o'er top each, yet never
Can rear their vast heads from their fixed abode.
But O, I vainly seek one spirit gone,
With yearnings of the eagle for his young ;
(And surely here the eagle hath his nest;)
One form I seek that from my sight hath flown ;
And I am doomed, these lovely scenes among,
Ever to seek, but nevei find my rest>

103 1

XIV.

GAMPOLLA.

Yon hill, 'tis said, contains the hidden gold

Of Kandy's conquered king. The precious ore.
If it be there, will never be seen more.
But here are riches, vast and manifold,
The raptured eye lor ever may behold.
Wealth inexhaustible, which o'er and o'er,
As avarice gluts o'er gold, we may exploie,
And leave the mighty riches yet untold.
The stores of Nature never fail. But when
Her lavish hand with proud profusion throws
Her bright apparel over hill and glen,
With loveliest hues of everlasting youth
Her matchless countenance serenely glows;
Her form is beauty, and her soul is truth.

XV.

A MORNING SCENE.

That long white silvery cloud that fills the vale

Hath reached not yet the brow of either hill ;
The solitary cricket to the shrill
Continuous insect cry gives place; the tale
Of one bird's moaning note, as to bewail
The silence dim, is told ; nothing is still ;
Darkness hath fled ; the morning hath her will;
And the wild doves and smaller songsters hail
The rising sun in this delicious scene.
Mountain and vale are shrouded now no more
By shades of night, or morning's dark grey wing.
Who that among the mountain-heights hath been
Can ever lack sweet musings P He may soar,
Or may descend to the minutest thing.

XVI.
GAMPOL-I.A 'RIVER.
As o'er this silent stream yon slowly puss,
The mind is soothed tg quietness. Ihe scene
Is exquisitely gentle" and serene.'
All nature seems asleep. The eye may gaze
On the still wave, as smooth as polished glass,
Transparent as a minor: and if spleen
Have vexed the soul, she's banished. Beauty's Queen,
Whdse printless foot glides o'er the dewy grass,
Reflects her form, pure as the o'erbanging sky,
In the translucent water. Yon green isle
With fairy feet her graceful nymphs may tread ;
While the pleased wave wafts the approving smile
Of Beauty's beaming features. Purity
And peace repose within the rivet's bed.

NOTES.

X.
CEREMONY OF THE BURIAL OF THE KINGS OF KANDY.
This Was the old Ferry otct the Mahavella Gang* to Tiincomalie. It is
at the foot Of the hill on which the Davy tree stands; and through it passed the
unhappy victims who were cruelly butchered, as related iu the last note.
This ferry Was the scene of the final ceremony of the burial of the kings of
Kandy. After the burning of the remains of the deceased king at Awadana
Madomvc, the royal burying ground,and putting some of the calcined bones
into a pot or urn of earthenware, covered and sealed, the rest of the ashes
being deposited in the gravethe following and final ceremony took place.
"The urn was placed on the head of a man masked and covered all over
with black, who, holding a sword in his hand, and mounted on an elephant
or horse, proceeded to the Mahavelle Ganga. At the ferry called Katagastotte,
two small canoes, made of the kakoonga, Were prepared, lashed together, and
covered with boughs, in the form of a bower. The masked bearer, entering
the canoe, was drawn towards the mid-channel of the river by two men
swimming; who, when they approached the deepest part of the stream, pushed
the canoe forward, and hastily retreated. Now the mask, having reached
the proper station, with the sword in one hand and the um in the other,
divided the urn with toe sword, and ia toe act plunged into the stream, and

( ios j
diving, came tip as far as possible below, and landing on the opposite side,
disappeared. The canoes were allowed to float down the river; the horse or
elephant was carried across, and left to graze at large, never to be nsed any
more ; and the woman who threw the rice upon the coffin (one part of the
ceremony before the consumption of the remains) with the men who carried
them, were also transported to the other side of the river, under the strict
prohibition nf recrossing. The chiefs returned to the great square, informed .
the* prince that the ceremony was ended, and were again ordered to purify
themselves." Davy's Ceylon page 163,
I have, several times visited the spots, both of thejferry and the tree, since I
compiled, and wrote the above notes, and the lines which occasioned them. .
My admiration is in no degree diminished; though I have since likewise seen the
greater and finer part of the interior, which comprehended the old fCandioj)
dominions, now provinces,rich in varied, bold, and beautiful scenery.

XI.
At every point around Kandy this delightful river is visible, circling the
town. Its banks are eminently beautiful. It flows over a bed of rocks. At
lew waterand indeed always except immediately after rains when the river '
is swollenthe rocky bed is visible, There is, however, a deep rapid current
through the middle,the rocks being abruptly cleft, apparently by the force
of the water. No vegetable matter is collected in masses on the sides, or
banks. Yet any continuous sojourn upon them is dangerous to European*
from the almost certain infection of fever. It is indeed a singular factand
known only as a fact, and not in its causesthat, in this island, the banks
of beautiful rivers and running streams are, I believe, always infected ; where
our lakes are the great preservatives of health- Kandy, even for natives, wal
not esteemed healthy, until the present lake was excavated by the late king.
Colombo is perhaps the healthiest station in the island for a permanency.
The sea is on one side of us,and a large, beautiful, and natural lake oa
the other.

xrv.

'

I was told by a native, who spoke very imperfect English, that in a rooky
hill just opposite to and visible from the Resthouse at Gampolla,the first
stage on the Nuwera Ellin road from Kandy,the king, or kings, of Kandy
])ad bidden a vast treasure. Be confessed to me, however, with some naivete,
that although he and others had often sought, they never could find any
access to the rock where the treasure was supposed to be deposited.It is
however, generally believed, from the partial confession of the last king, that
money and jewels to a large amount were secreted somewhere in the vicinity
pf the capital. It is a customary practice of almost all uncivilized nations to
bKy Uteir treasure.
^ ^_

106

ORIGIN OF BUDDHISM.

LETTER 3bd.
TO

SIB WILLIAM

COLEBBOOKE,

Gilbert's, Antigua, May 30th, 1889.

Mr dear Sib,I tend yon another of my "bora Babylnnica:," for I
Itnow not what else to call them, which perhaps may suggest something
which, under your fostering care, may be of service to Mr. Tarnnur, or soma
other of your otuntal friends.
The few observations I have to make are on the eogvate (i. e. to us) sub
jects of Budhism, and the origin of language, and hare been suggested by the
books with which you hare so liberally supplied me, and a part of which I
take this opportunity to return.
There is a singular passage in Mr. Tumour's introduction, which he says
is a Pali rerse from the oldest grammar referred to in the Pali literature. It
is as follows. " Sa ilagadhi; nulla bhasi, nar&yiyadi koppikk, Brahmanochasytt&Iaph, Sambvddhichkpi bhatari." " There is a language, which is the rout
of all languages ; men and Brahmans,'at the commencement of the creation, whonever before uttered or heard an human accent, and even the supreme Buddhos, spoke it: it is the Mujadhi." We hare in these few words almost every
thing that I have predicated of the Hebrew. It is stated to be the first and
tha root of all languages, and to have been given by inspiration. Nor ia
this all; for even the more doubtful fact of this language having been the
Hebrew is pretty distinctly implied. " It is the JUajadhi," i. e. Magian. Nor
am t singular in this interpretation of the word, which I believe 1 mentioned
to yon when at Done's Hill, for I find the following assertion of tbe same
opinion in the number of the foreign Quarterly for April 1837, in the article
on Tamil manuscripts : " we must notice that the word Atejndhya the first
syllable of which is tbe Persian magi the Hebrew mega, (the loot of the
word mege, before mentioned) the Chaldee mega, the Greek magoi, and tha
Indian maya, magic, or delusion, is the Arabic epithet magh."
Here we bare the word traced in several languages, and a plain assertion
that it is the same as the Hebrew, and we see further that it is almost
identical with tbe Chaldee, as noted aborc, and that this latter also differs
very little from tbe Hi brew. In fact, having traced this word up to Cbaldea,
or to Babel, we need be under no apprehension that we are very far distant
from the real source of all languages.
I have bowerer lately been struck with a passage in St. Matthew (618.)
which ia to me perfectly conclusive on this subject. Our Saviour there says,
** Till limn en and earth pass, one jot or one tittle shall in no wise pass
from tha law, till all be fulfilled." The jot is the Hebrew. . ., the Greek iota,
sad tUe ngUah i -. the Utile is punctual super literam tho three dots over.

107 ]

Ike letter* These being the most minute parts of letter! in the Htibrtw
language, even as it is at present written, 1 cannot understand how the pas.
sage can hare any force if applied to any other language ; and I know at
no other language in which the letter I is called jot or yod, or which is
furnished with similar apices. The deduction is I think unavoidable, that
the law was originally written with these peculiar and distinctive characters,
and consequently in Hebrew.
1 believe I mentioned to you my conviction that the word / am is no.
thing but a corruption of the same name of Jehovah, which in our version
is tranlated Jah, It is the original also of the Greek I, which waa
sometimes written backwards ] 3 like the Hebrew. This is evidently in al
lusion to the name of God, communicated to Moses, I AM. There is a most
beautiful allusion to these names in a verse of David Smart, the mad poet,
in his " song of David"
' I AM ! the great Jehovah said
To Moses, while earth heard with dread, .
And smitten to the heart,
Above, beneath, within, around,
All nature without voice or sound,
Beplied, O J,obd! THOU ART!"
I wish to add a similar observation on the word Pali, which appears to bo
frequently written Balithus mahu-balipur ; (a word that reminds us of Baalpeor)
" the city of the great Bali ;" still retains the more ancient spelling ; and
what is this word Bali but Baal or Bel, or Belus, the God of Chaldca?
In like manner, I cannot help thinking that the name of the 1'ersian pa
lace Shuslian which means a lily, may have some connection with the lulus
<rr water lily of the oriental mythology ; and that even in the present
title of the kings of Persia Shah, there may be- a remote allusion to the
name of the Patriarch Shcm,
I now proceed to the principal object which I have in view, in troubling
you with this epistle, which is to hint the possibility, I dare not, nor have
I data to do more, of the prophet Daniel being the great Gotamo Buddho.
These Buddhists appear to have been men, who by divine contemplation, and
by their piety, had attained to a degree of intercourse with the spiritual
world far exceeding that of any other mortals. It appears that there have
bern five of these Buddhos; and that the " age in which we now live is
the buddhot-pado of Gotamo. His religion is destined to endure 5000 years,
of which 179 have now passed away (A. D. ,1836) since his death.*
(Tumour p. [..)
The absence of Hebrew type precludes our exhibiting the letter with three
dots.Ed. CM.

108

J will only hint that the four preceding Buddhos may have been Adami
Noah, Abraham and Moses; but from the foregoing quotation, it is plain;
that Gotamo died in S43 before Christ; and this is precisely the medium
of the dates of the delivery of the two prophecies of 1260 and 8300 years,
which being astronomical numbers, are the most likely to have engaged
the attention of Daniel's Mugian disciples.
If indeed the Magians and the Buddhists are admitted to 1 e the same,
there can be Tcry little doubt that Daniel and G6toma Bnddbo were the
same also ; for Daniel was " master of the Magi," and what is this but
virtually the title of G6tama ? We are also told of Daniel, that he hal
"light and understanding, and wisdom like the wisdom of the Gods," aud
that " the spirit of the Gods was in him,"all attributes of Gotamo.
Further the request which Daniel and his companions, Shadrach, Meshech
and Abednego, made to the prince of the Eunuchs, that they might not'
H defile themselves with the portion f the King's meat," bdt might be pert
milted to live un vegetable instead of animal food, will afford a very satisfac*
tory account of the origin uf this remarkable particular of the Buddhist
creed.
Another reason, of which however I have only an individual perception, for
supposing Daniel to be. Gotamo, is the similarity of their names, not indeed
in sound but in sens*. Mr. Tumour says, " almost all Pali proper names,
whether geographical, or of persons, have some specific signification. In the
translation of their names into vernacular dialects, their meaning, and not ilia .
found, has been generally preserved." This will account for the name of
Buddhist being substituted for Magian, and Cotumo fvr Daniel. We have;
already had occasion to paint out, how both of the former words came to,
signify wisdom and wise men, for such is the meaning of Buddhist in Tali,
and our translators have so rendered Magi in the New Testament.
But are Daniel and Gotamo synonymes? Here I am at a. loss, and eye
there seems to he a glimmering of light. The meaning of the name of Daniel
is " the judgment of God;" and I perceive that in Clough's Pali Grammar tha
word Dbauimam is said to signify righteousness, a word so nearly allied to
judgment that in our old translations of the Bible the Word justice is almost
always used where we now read righteousness. Now I have seen the name
Gotamo written in a great variety of ways, and among others (I think in,
the Missionary Register) Gimdama. Here we have "dama," a word very
like " dhamniam ;" but what is most remarkable of all is that there is good
reason to believe that this word " dharrlmam" in the Pali language is actually
derived from the very word which forms part of the name of Daniel in tha
Hebrew. This word is Dad; and from this root Parkhurst derives the old
English word to deme i. e. judge, ami thence, doom, and also doomsttr, a judge. Ha
then suggests that the latin tfaiu/ieaud the English damn have the same origin ; au4

thus ttay the word " dhamman" be not only a translation tmt actually a derivative
for the Hebrew Dan. This interchange of the N, and M, was quite common be
tween the Jews and Chaldeans, aud hence the words Cherubim and Cherubin,
So far then nur way is tolerably clear, but how is the word "GOD" to
be obtained front the uaine of Gotama? if we were to seek English deriva
tions, there would be no difficulty here for Got and God are sufficient
like to answer such a purpose ; but as dro and deus,devi and dura.
Boddh and Woden jcc. &c. &c. are so easily traced from the Pali, may
not our word God have a similar origin ? This must be determined by
those who are competent to the task, and should the result be as I an
ticipate, I think it Will have been demonstrated that Gotama and Dauiul
are the same.
I shall detain yon with only one other observation on this subject, which
will enable us to correct an anomaly (for it can scarcely be called any thing
else) is the Chronology of the life of Daniel ; and this gives us a hint of
the great benefits which may be ultimately derived from these studies, If
they should be placed on a firm basis. Calmet supposes Daniel to have
been twelve years of age, when brought to Babylon, and as it was only three
years after this event, that he interpreted Nebuchadnezzar's dream, he could
at that period have been only in his 15th year. At p. XCIV of his intra*
Auction, Hr. Tumour states that Gotama was barn B. C. 632 ; and he says
that this " date is too authentically fixed to admit of its being varied." This
would add four years to Daniel's age, and consequently, at tbe time of in
terpreting the dream, he might be hear twenty years of age ; a circumstance
surely more probable than that he should have delivered this prophecy while
yet a boy ; and also far better agreeing with tbe words of Scripture, which
assure us that in consequence of this event, the king made Daniel a great
" man, and gave him inany great gifts, and made bim niter over the wholt
" province of Babylon, and chief of the Governors over all the wise men of
" Babylon"i. e. supreme Buddho ! !
Passing by the last two words, I cannot but observe that we have here
a most surprising, I was going to say, corroboration, but it is rather an
claircissement, or a bringing forth to the light of the truth of the Holy
Scriptures. What they do actually contain, how precisely, and minutely they
are true, even to the jot and tittle, and how completely all history and science,
all human purposes and achievements, social, political and religious, only cir.
ele round and reflect their light, may possibly never be fully understood in
this world ; but we must remember that every fresh discovery in these matters
is an acquisition in divine knowledge, and make us, as St. I.oke expressed
it to his disciple Theophilus, to " know the certainty of those things wherein we
have been instructed."
Neither will the benefit end here, for religion will confer benefits, and
ones too, on human science. We need not go far out of our way to

r no j
ascertain the truth of this position. I have already hinted at the abstinence
el Danial and bis three friends from animal food being the probable origin
of the same practice among the Budhists, and this idea is corroborated by
the fact that almost immediately after the death of Daniel, Pythagoras, re
turning from the East, introduced the same custom into Greece. In the
East he also became acquainted with astronomy, and taught that tbe pla
nets moved in oblique circles round the sun. He also learnt in the same
regions, the doctrine of the metempsychosis, and the practice of medicine ;
and the five years silence that be imposed on his disciples, was evidently
another item borrowed from the Buddhist creed. Whence then these coinci
dences, unless they have a common origin 1 and what origin so likely, as
that they should have been adopted in imitation of this great and good man
who during the period of his own lifetime had obtained so high a degree of
sanctitj that the Almighty himself alludes to it in the prophecy of Ezekiel,
and says, " Though these three men, Noah, Daniel and Job were in it they
should deliver but their own souls by their righteonsness." We have thus
afforded us a very simple solution of what I have understood to be one of
tbe great difficulties in Hindoo literature, the origin of the abstinence of these
ations from animal food ; and this view is confirmed by tbe tablets of Peyadasi, the date of which is about 200 yeors posterior to Daniel. Thus wa
ay say of these studies in reference to divine and human knowledge,
"
altering sic
Altera poscet opem res, et conjurat amice."
I am afraid you will say of my manuscript that in studying brevity, I
lave attained obscurity ; and indeed I consider that I shall be obliged to
'write the whole over again, if it were only to embody the new ideas which
arc continually suggesting themselves. I will add two or three which havo
occurred since I sent it to you.
The following is a curious illustration of the sealing of hooks, and shews
that among the Eastern nations it is practised even at the present day. It
is an extract from a decree of the Emperor of China for the suppression of
Mr. GutzlafTs Chinese Magazine.
" I the Emperor have carefully turned it over, and looked at it. The title
page bears the date. Taonkwang Keawoo (the name of the thirty first year
(lSfS-l) of the Chinese cycle:) it is dated in the summer months, and sealed
with a private teal l;c."
I have next to observe that the Greek names of Bacchus, Dyonysins, and"
Jacohus are both derived from the name of Noah. Jacchus is evidently the
latter part of Noah's name as written in Latin Koachvt, and in our own
adjective Koachic. The exclamation of Jo and Evoke are corruptions of Jah
and Jehovah; and uJo" and " Evohe Jacchi," are simply Lord or Baal Noah,

r in .}
In the name Dionysyus this is still more plainly seen. The former in a
corruption of the namethis is a simple translation of it. Dionwros is from
Dios the genetive of Zeus Jupiter and vuktos, the genetive of mix night ;
so that be is literally " Lord of the night," or as before Lord Noah. These
observations will not be very intelligible unless you have had the resolution
to wade through the whole of the M. S. which it is too much to suppose
you have been able yet to do.
Yon will also notice in the M. S. a curious extract from Mr. Tumour's
book respecting a woollen cord twisted with gold and put round the neck of
Chandagutto, to indicate liis being bom to the sovereignty. This passage I
have used in illustration of the plaiting of Shem's beard. But as we see in
the foregoing instance that a cord is substituted for it, I have been led to
imagine that the Brahmmical cord or thread may be a relict of this ancient
custom, and in reality derived from the Patriarch Shem ; and still worn as an
indication of their being a " royal priesthood;'' their claims to superiority
appear in fact to amount to this.
14 is time that this long epistle were brought to a close.
I remain, my dear Sir,
Very truly your'g
(Signed)

N. GILBERT.

THE FESTIVAL OF PARVATIE.

The Noratri (or nine days festival) is celebrated in honor of the goddess
Parvatie, the consort of Siva. The ceremonies Commence on the second day
after the new moon in the month of September, with the formation of an
earthen image of Parvatie; a small trench is then opened in the earth, in
which nine sorts of grain are sown, the ground is irrigated and the grain
germinates; on the last day of the festival, they are taken up and presented
to the friends of the family who wear them in the head dress. At this time
all their books and writing instruments are placed before the altar, tbey be.
ing forbidden to read any book during those days, hut they are enjoined to
ling extempore. The School-Masters and boys having committed to memory
several songs in praise of the goddess, and clothed in magnificent apparel
after their own fashion, march in procession with great rejoicing to their se
veral houses, where they sing and dance to the sound of musical instruments.
The parents, pleased with this, present the master with gold and silver coins

112

as well as eloths, after which they are sumptuously entertained.

bidding the last day of the

Others, cell.

festival an auspicious time for the commence'

ment of education! bring their children before the altar and make them recite the alphabet.

Religious persons rise early in the morning, after ablution

aay their prayers and

eat but once during the day.

abstain from sinful thoughts and acts.

They

While they fast they

continue thus

for nine days

and after the usual ceremony in the temple, distribute cloths and money to
poor persons and Brahmins, and take their usual meals.

On the other hand

the Princes and the warriors on the first day of the festival, after the usual
ceremonies, order their weapons to be brought from the armoury, which are
then carried in procession to the shrine of Parvatie and

allowed to remain

there during the festival at the end of which, on the ninth day, the nobles and
courtiers proceed in a train with the Prince and his troops at their head,
and repair to the temple

of Parvatie ; there they distribute presents to the

Priest and Brahmins, after which a great feast ie given, to Which individuals
of all descriptions arc invited.

The cause of the festival or rejoicing is the

followinga Giant by name Mayedasooran had for a

long time practised

habits of austerity, and obtained the favor of Siva, who, being pleased, bes
towed on him the mastery of the world Mayedasooran filled the world with
tumults and oppression, until mankind, unable to contend

against the Giant,

betook themselves to Parvatie and entreated her to assist them in destroying

their enemy ; upon which Parvatie took compassion on her creatures and des
troyed the cruel and powerful Mayedasooran, which caused great grief amongst
his friends, but at the same time restored universal peace As these

trans-

actions occupied a spare of nine days in their accomplishment, the Tamils

hold the festival in commemoration of them for a like period of time.
EB.

SKETCHES OF MEN AND THINGS.

BY THE EDITOR.

" A chieTt among ye taJtin notes.

An faith lull prenl it."

No. 2. ftnocttmt.
It bag often struck me that there is more philosophy,the phi*
losophy of every day lifein Knockers than many can be aware
of, or would be incliced to admit. The reader will doubtless shake
bis bead, and ask, " what can be learnt from Knockers ?" I answer much,of habits, of occupations, of human nature, of all
that can interest and amuse a speculative and enquiring mind. It
is not to be supposed that from Knockers we can obtain a tho
rough insight into the minds or actions of their owners ; but it is
(Certain tliat by a caieful study of the different varieties of (hero

"3

we tnoy glean some useful hints of character and manners. I have

often been thus amused whilst threading the noisy labyrinths of
the gieul metropolis : many a successive day have I passed in the
study ol this Kuocker-philosophy : many a mile have I gone, ex
ploring the deepest and dirtiest mazes of cockney-land, and many
a time have been roused front a deep, contemplative reverie on
some netv variety o| Knocker just discovered, by a rude hustle from
a porter's knot or a milk- woman's tin-pai), If the reader feels in
clined for a stroll, I will take him with me and point out the
several kinds of Knockers in existence, and how they may be
made an index to the characters of the individuals using them.
First we have the Elbow or Learned Knocker, indiginous to PorU
land Place, Saville Row, Great Cumberland Street, C'adogan Place,
&c, it is a still', lazy son of an afluir, formed, as its name indicates,
like an elbow or the handle of a gigantic tca<-urn, The doors on
which these are fastened have usually a nice, snug little bramab.
in one corner ol the middle panel, which opens with a watch key,
and by this the F. R. S. and S.A., lets himself in, at! njre and
comfortable, when the Societies and the Opera break up, with
oue of Davy's patent salety-lamps left burning on the hall-table to
light him up-stairs. These gentry have' a great portion of the
alphabet tacked to their names ; a curious and rather expensive
habit, seeing that each trio of letters costs from five to fifty pounds
per annum. Popular superstition has long been in the habit of
supposing these to indicate profound learning in the possessors,
which may perhaps account for the harmless penchant. The
British Museum is their roost favorite resort, and they may be
seen there, wading through heaps of dusty manuscripts, and poring
over fine old illegible Caxtons, with a diligence and perseverance
truly edifying, quitting it daily with the strongest possible convic
tion that they are engaged in one of the greatest works ever put
in type, and calculating how many more quires of foolscap will be
Necessary to ensure their immortality-ship,
The Clerical and Medical Knocker is a piece of gross imposi
tion : it is iu fact no knocker at all, but a plain circle of iron
with a wire running thro' it, so that when raised for an honest
knock it merely agitates something between a prompter's and a
muffin-man's bell. They are to be met with chiefly in quiet, dark
streets, or no-thoroughfare squares, and are a remarkably sober and
business-like race, if you happen to have a letter to one of these
knockers, be sure, on entering, that you wipe your shoes clean and
quietly, without knocking the paint off the hall wainscoat, and
moieover do not speak above a whisper. These individuals are
peculiarly attached to easy-chairs and dressing gowns, and love to
make a great parade of doing nothing. Thev will sit for hours in
their studies up to their ears in hooks and papers, with quires of
riicc hot-prcss'd bath and bundles of well nibb'd gerinan quills
before them, and at three rise, dress, and ride out, labouring un
der the delusion of having been busy, a thing of which they wtre
{lever guilty iu their lives. Visitors are shown into a waiting room

M4

in the front, generally veiy dark, having one set of curtains in

side the windows aud. another set outside, the former composed f
very antient damask, the latter of very recent street mud. There
is a circular tnble in the room, on which are numbers of (he
John Bull and the {literary Gazette, some six years old, and an.
odd volume of Recces Cyclopedia bearing date 1806. A fire-paper,
a figure of Cupid, a dog's skull and an umberella-staud, with six
or eight superannuated chairs form the properties, useful and or
namental of this anti-room- On entering the audience chamber
do not fall over any of the books or papers strewed about the flopt
at least, if you can avoid it.. Do not speak too loudly, nor give
occasion to have a question repeated: and on leaving, beware of
letting the wind blow ' the door to, for he will be, certain to re
mind yoti of it when he next sees you.
The Mercantile Knqcker predominates in such places, as Rus
sell, F.uston and Regcn,t Squares, the Grove Paddington,, St. John's
Wood, Brixton and New Kent Roads, &c. &c. They are sub
stantial, oblong piec.es of metal, easily moved and well cleaned.
Should one of them be bronzed depend upon it the owner is a
liver-less Nabob from Cawnpoor or Hydrahad. This species
of Knocker are very regular in their movements being lifted at
precisely the saioe hpur, uj. precisely the same mariner every day,
about half-past four. Twice a week, in the season, they attend the
Philharmonic, the Ancient or the Queen's concerts, and may be
seen at the National Gallery on the very first day of its opening.
They subscribe to the Zoological Gardens, and it is even rumoured,
that one or two have ascended with Green in his great Nassau Bal
loon. Brighton and Cheltenham are their chief summer residencies,
with an occasional ten guinea's worth of sea-sickness and bone-shak
ing to Paris. On these occasions every thing is left in the great
est possible security at home , the plate is sent to the count
ing-house or the bankers: the servants are put on board wages :
curtains are taken down, carpets arc taken up ; the Venetian blinds
are put iuto curl-papers, and the drawing-room fire-irons are wrapt
up in the stair-carpets, for fear of their catching cold. The male
portion of these Knockers arc great patrons of white-bait dinners
at Blackwall, and are deeply read in the literatuie of the Times
and Morning Chronicle. As to the feminine part, their acme of
enjoyment consists in a momipg lounge through Waterloo House
and Solio Bazaar, an afternoon's drive in the parks, a nice inno
cent scandalizing dinner-party, and, a very quiet rubber of whist,
guinea points.
The Independent Knocker is most decidedly one of the old school ;
a heavy, inconvenient, obstinate sort of old fellow, that won't move
a bit faster than usual for anybody. It's weight may be computed
at about thirty pounds avoirdupoise, and it is consequently the
the terror of all under sized butcher-boys and diminutive water
cress girls. The race is becoming gradually extinct aud is only
to be met with in very old fashioned streets and squares. Bloomsbury appears to be their stronghold, for they muster there pretty

iio-l

strongly, along with curiously carved, grim-looking faces ovsr

the dours, and iron tubes fixed on either railing, that might hare
been Brobdiiinug extinguishers or Lilliputian Cornucopias. Thepersous who belong to these Knockers are p,f the fine-old-english-gentleman school, driving to Somerset House, Whitehall or the Ad
miralty in their Brilzchas and Poncy Phaepaps, and amusing them
selves while tpere, with scribbling their pames pn nicely ruled go
vernment paper, ve\\h large governmept gopserqiqlls apd goverument japan ink, ; or they sit for a couple of hours making holes
in sheets of foolscap and threading thcni op bits of red tape ; fur
all ol which they condescend to receive np more than a thousand
or two a year.
The nearest approximation to the last is the Difficult Knocker
located in St. Helens Place, Ely Place, Kirby Street, Lambeth
Terrace orj Walnut tree Walk. It a is harsh, bard-moving knockers
small but wearysome. The most ppwerful ticket-porter that ever
put hand to it could never produce above two or three raps
in a minute, aud those not much louder than the click of a watch
man's rattle. Hercules himself would have found it a queer customer.
Begging letters avoid this knocker as they would a Police Officer.
As to her Majesty's letter carriers they ore on the very verge
of despair, and two strong-minded postmen, one a two-penny, the
other a genet al, have had fits of temporary insanity, owing to
their utter inability to produce the requisite official sounds. It is
rumoured that the body are getting up a petition to Parliament
on the subject. The persons who attach themselves to these are
rusty, crusty old boys, pr thin-skin'd tabbies. The majority of
them are three per cents, with a sprinkling of consols, and here and
there a dock or a mine, Railways they have nothing to do with, ab
horring all such innovations in travelling : cab-companies are shun
ned on the same principle; they know of no conveyance like the
venerable hackney coaches that go three miles in, tjiree quarters
of an hour. They look upon the old jarvies and watchmen as a
deeply injured race of beings, and still subscribe to keep one of
the latter in their street that they may hear his weajt tremulous
ciy in the dead of the night and fancy themselves transported
back to happy olden times. The docks and mines indulge in four
wheel'd chaises and small foothoys with white cording round the
edge of their plain coats. They may be seen at Tonoridge wells
or Richmond in the summer, and at the Exeter Hall apd Man
sion bouse meetings in the winter. The three per cents are usually
content with hiring a one horse fly when they visit a i elation in
Highgate or a friend at Clapham, and seldom go beyond Ramsgate or Dovor for their summer excursions, although one or two
of them have had the hardihood, to cross the channel and spend
a five pound note in Boulogne.
The Professional Knocker is well meaning but dangerous. It has
a peculiar and by no means agreeable, habit of running up bills
with tiadesmen, and when the latter express a desire to sec their
money, of tukiug a short trip to the surrey side of the water, not

[ ne j
yery far from the Borough. To look at it one wonld say it wnj,
all right and proper ; there is nothing gaudy or extravagant about
it, for it consists of a plain, simple ring, thin at it's socket and gradually thiekining towards the lower part of its circle. It is to he
lound in a short street running into Berkeley Square, on a (ow
of the doors near Storey's gate, and also in Brompton and Trinity
Squares. The proprietors ol this species, both ladies and gentle-*
men, are sir ants ol the public, either on the stage or in print,
on boards, or in boards in Drury I,aiie or Paternoster Row,
They all live in a dashing style, aud give a succession of card
and musical parties. The gcnih-men keep their saddle horses, and
their cabriolets, and their tigers, and all that sort of thing, until
some unlucky day they happen to become the properly of tho
Sherrilfs oflicer, and then my gentleman moves to another quarter,
to try his luck once more. The ladies, particularly those with the
weet voice and the sweet eyes, have a very large circle of acquain
tance, and many u coronetted cabriolet and curricle is seen standing before their doors for an hour or two daily. 1 hey keep their
ladies maids and foolboys, and often a Phaeton in which they
dash along to Mr. Bunn or Mr. Murray. Their houses aie fur
nished in the first style, their wines and dinners are faultless. To
see them as they are seen by the world, in the green room or the draw,
ing roont, one might suppose thern to be the happiest cteatures
in existence ; hut it is not so. If we could peep behind the
scenes of private life how different would they appear. If we
co.ild lay bare those hearts, hid as they are beneaih gay aud
thoughtless exteriors, we should be witnesses of many a bitter pang,
many a blighting care. Disappointments, jealousies, uncertain
ty of friends and fortune, their own fickleness, all render their
butterfly-existence wearysome and painful, and it is only by keeping
up a constant succession of gaitius and excitements, that they are
able to endure life.
Next we have the Convenient Knocker, an easy going, right
rninded personage, of some substance and character. It is a cum
brous, massive circle, reposing upon a large, carved bed of metal,
about half way down the door which has only two large panels.
They are to he met with in great numbers in the suburbs of
London, such as the Mile-end road, Hackney, Islington, Kennington,
&.c. and are generally in terraces or pairs. The owners of them
are mostly head-clerks in mercantile houses, stock-brokers, or retired
tradesmen. I am sliongly attached to these knockers for there is
an appearance of extreme neatness and comfoit about them. They
pre always well cleaned The steps leading to them are white as
snow: the very scraper is bright, and even the iron plate that
covers the hole of the coal-cellar is kept shining by Mary's blacklead brush. Tlnough the fan-light over the door is seen a bust
of Cupid with one linger on his lip. The front parlour has either
a gauze-wire blind, or hall curtains of muslin on brass rods. The
drawing-room is on the first floor, and there is a chair and an
ottoman at each of the long ficnch sashes. The clerks and brokeis
cowu borne outside the short stages, about live, except when they

Remain \6 see Madame Vrestries's new burletta, or to go to VauXhall, and finish with tlie Coal-hole or the Cider cellars. The re*
tired gentry lead a wandering-jew sort of existence, strolling out
after they have devoured the hot rolls and the warm Chronicle, in
search of amusement. They will frequently call a cab, drive to the
Horse-guards to see il their watches keep good time, and thence;
go by steamer to Greenwich te compote notes with the Hospital
clock. They punctually make their appearance at every sale of
furniture in and near London, and are moreovei most persevering
in their attendance at all Old Bailey trials : besides which they may
always be heard cheering Her Majesty on her way to open the
Houses of Parliament. Altogether they are a busy, hustling race
of knockers and really desefve great credit for the praiseworthy
means by which they contrive to pass their time without doing
anything useful.
The Easy Knocker is of various forms : some are thin rings of
iron with snakes wreathed round them, the heads forming the
knobs : some consist of an oblong square surmounted by a lion's
mouth: whilst, others are shaped like a Jew's harp and are held by
a small hand. The greater portion of them are iron, nicely blackleaded every Saturday morning, though a few are of brass. There is
a peculiar facility in using these: no stillness, no rickety ness, no
mistake about them, and they fall upon the door with an ease and
grace which impart a sensible gratification to those handling them.
The tenements on which these are affixed ore mostly occupied by
junior clerks with small salaries and large families, by shabby ar
tists and dandy mechanics, by young reporters and occasionally
by a widow with a daughter or two. Tliey hang together very
thickly about the Commercial and Bow roads, Kennington common
and in the new streets of Somers Town, Islington and Haddington.
They are mostly spare, cold, consumptive-looking houses, pinched
op and huddled together ac though they were trying to keep each
other warm. They have long pigeon-hole windows and before
those on the first floor are semi-circles of iron-work in shape and
size very like nursery fenders, each containing three under-sized red
flower-pots in green saucers, with a few flowers in them that are
making desperate efforts to appear fresh and green. Many of these
Inockcis have taken to let lodgings and find it answers very well,
when they get tenants that pay. The small-salary cleiks usually
come home with a blue bag in their hands, which they would have
their neighbours to believe contain oflicial documents and bodies, but
which in reality is the receptacle of nothing less than two lull-sized
quarterns from the cheap baker, or a joint from the Whitechapel
butcher who sells for ready money. The artists have no blue bag,
and if they had, it would be an useless appurtenance, seeing that
they have seldom anything to bring home but a hungry stomach
and an empty purse, living as they do upon the little credit they
may happen to have at the neighbouring shops. As to the reporters
they are seldom visible but on Sundays when they usually con
trive to get a few brother stenographs to meet them, and "a rate
day they have of it.

US J

The Humble Knocker is mostly a small ring with a leaf in the

centre, or it will be in imitation of an oaken wreath : it is in great
fcivor in the neighbourhood of Stangate, Vauxhall, Little Britain, St.
John's Street Road, Hoxton and Lower Islington. This variety is
extremely honest and trustworthy and worth a hundred piofessional
knockers. They belong to mechanics, journeymen tailors, book-keepers
in small houses and warehouse keepers in large ones, and are great
pitrons of the weekly dispatch, believing Publicola to he the greatest
genius of the day. They generally congregate in rows, with narrow
slips of ground tailed off in front, originally intended for gardens, but
which possess no other qualification for the title than about four square feet
of bilious looking earth edged with oyster-shells, containing a misan
thropical marigold in the centre, drooping its head in sheer disgust
at its situation. These knockers are great opposers of Sir Andrew
Agnew and his Sabbath Bill; their chief recreation being on Sunday,
which, if the weather be fine, consists in two-shilling's worth of
Gravescnd or Richmond atmosphere. Excursions to tne Nora are
mainly supported by this class : artd as to the Eagle Tavern and
White Conduit House, they might close their doors were it not for
them. Pass by one of these dwellings about ten o'clock oh Sunday
morning and you will see the watchmaker and th warehouseman
in their shin sleeves either reading the leader in the dispatch, or
whisthirig to a few ignorant cockney pigeons that are fluttering about
in a little lattice-work box on the top of the house. At one they
will dine on a baked pig, or ribs of beef, and a goodly fruit pie>
after which they proceed to drag a four-wheel'd chaise arid three
fat children towards Copenhagen Fields or the "White Conduit" where
they indulge in the cockney delicacies of shrimps, sour gooseberries
ana potter. Between eight and nine they may be seen returning
Lome in crowds, tired, hot and hungry, and the enjoyments of the
day are ended with a supper of ale, pickled salmon and the re*
mainder of the fruit pie.
The Disreputable Knocker speaks for itself.A small shapeless
piece of irdn, rusty and ricketty, banished from all decent com
pany, it seeks refuge in the Waterloo and Commercial Roads,
Brick Lane, the vicinity of Sadlers Wells, and other equally in*
teresting spots. The external appearance of such are pictercsque in
the extreme, their varied decorations, however, refuting the old adage
that " variety is charming." Some of the windows are mended with
brown-paper, others with a saucepan lid and not a few with what
had once formed the crown of a hat. On the ground floor a pet
ticoat of doubtful color performs the duty of a window-curtain. The
number of the house, if it has one, will be elegantly and chastely
designed in chalk, or, if the groundwork o( the panels be of a light
colour, the same will be performed with a piece of charcoal. A
large portion of these miserable abodes have no doors at all and allow
free ingress to such as necessity obliges to enter them. To see these
dwelling places of the poor of the earth, one might well cease to
wonder at the extent of demoralization and crime in their ranks.

119

ami almost doubt if snch s|)ots could be the abodes of our fellow
men. Yet there are thousands of human beings who pass their
Whole lives in these sorrowful tenements : who sit hour after hour,
ob cold winter nights, listening to the heavy snow storm peiting
against the window and the mournful voice of the wind booming down
chimney, with no fire to warm them, no bread to feed them, no friends
to cheer them. When we see and know all this can we wonder at
our workhouses, our prisons and our madhouses being so well"
tenanted ? Can we feel surprised that human beings weary of suf
fering, should rise up in desperation against those above them, and'
attempt to seize by force what they cannot hope to possess by pa-,
tience ? Oi, can we wonder at man sinking beneath an accumu
lation of unceasing sorrows and sufferings, day alter day, until the
load becomes so oppressive that the heart bursts, or reason resigns
her throne, and the mind is wrecked. Oh! that our many societies'
for the promotion of temperance and morality woidd turn their eyes
and their hearts to such things as these : for, depend upon it, it is
not so much vice and misery, as it is misery and Wee!
Take a stroll down one of the streets in which these knockers
abound, on a Sunday morning, and witness the squalid wretchedness,
the sottish, abject misery of all around. The windows on either
side will be thrown up to admit what little wholesome air ever ven
tures into the street, and projecting from a number of them may
be seen sundry dirty faces and half-clad shoulders. The male
part of the population are well acquainted with Her Majesty's
Government, and follow the entertaining and speculative professions
of House-breakers, Pick-pockets, Coiners and Prize-fighters. As.
to the other sex they are of the most abject grade of human
beings. One of these wretched creatures is standing at a door with'
her hair loose and her head leaning against the door-post. A
black eye and a deep cut on her forehead, disfigure what had
once been interesting features, hut which are now haggard and
bloated. She received those marks of affection from the young
gentleman in the great-coat and high-lows sauntering down the
street to the pot-house. Her eyes follow him, for she is a wo
man, and woman's heart is not lightly turned from what she has
once loved. Her abstracted manner shews that her thoughts, wherever
her heart may be, are far away. Hark ! the hells are ringing to
church perhaps she is thinking of bye-gone days of happy inno
cence, when she, like the rest of the world, was wont to wend her
way with a light heart and a smiling face to the house of prayer:'
she may be thinking, too, whether they sound as did the bells of
her own native village, when she was wont to trip along the lanes
and fields, with her young brothers and sisters, ere she had listened
to the serpent-voice of the deceiver. Or she may be pondering
for a moment on the future, inwardly cursing him who first poisoned
her cup of happiness : But she is gone ; one of the same stamp
called to her from across the street, and she has pass'd over with
an oath on her white lip, and a bitter smile on her painted cheek.
t

 120 1
fffic OtorrlaitB &onte,
By the Revd. J. G. Macvioah.
{Continued.)

ROME.
In travelling inland from Civita Vecehia one naturally looks anxi'
ously from every rising ground which the carriage passes over in the
Lope of seeing something of the Imperial CitySuch is the nature
o( the country however, that he looks long in vain. But at last
a beautiful dome is seen, assuring the eye that Rome lies in
the hollow out of which it stands and looking so majestic and beau
tiful that the beholder scarcely needs to be told that be now sees
that singular masterpiece of the genius of Michael Angelo the cu
pola of St. Peters. But not without astonishment does he disco
ver that the Imperial City lies in such a sitea hollow surrounded
by barren rising grounds on all sides except one, where a compa
ratively trivial river which passes through the city steals away to
wards the sea, in distance about forty miles. Such is the site of
Rome. How dissimilar to the sites that are chosen for great cities
now And on the contrary hand how similar to the spots chosen
bv Gypsies for iheir questionable encampmentsBut let us not
indulge in the speculation which such a remark is calculated to
awake : and on this subject, let us only further remark that bad
though it be for every good purpose, yet the site of Rome is
most expressive of what Rome ever was, and but for the want of
Power would be still, the capital of a people subsisting neiiheT by agri
culture, nor commerce, nor industry of any kind, but by the wealth
of others around them, whom they spoil with success.
The traveller coming from Civita Vecehia enters Rome by the
Western gate, close to St. Peters, and if he purpose driving at once
to the Porto del Populo, or the Piazza di Spagna the quarter where
most of the English take up their abodes, it falls to him to pass
at once through the whole diameter of the city and consequently
to see at once what sort of place Rome is. And doubtless if he
do so his first feelings will be those of extreme disappointment.
Rome when compared with almost any of the capitals of the other
European nations and still more when compared with that idea of
it which we contract from our education (which presents to us this
city as the mistress of the world,) appears at first sight an unex
pectedly small and a poor-looking place ; owing what grandeur it
seems to have chiefly to gorgeous but gloomy churches and rich
but yet prison-like palaces forming part of the streets, which are
always narrow; and what population it has chiefly to beggars, priests
and English. Nor will the travellers first impressions improve
should he go immediately in search of lodgings, as he will then
find that such is the insecurity, or at least the feeling of insecurity
in Rome that most of the doors of private houses have grated peep
holes in them through which, after the stranger has rung or,

121

{mocked, an ey* may be seen viewing him, before the door is

opened, and still more frequently a voice heard calling out quie,
and requiring him to give an account of himself belore the bar
is removed.
The first impressions of Rome however are the most unfavoura
ble; nor is the traveller who enters Irom Tuscany (which is the
grand approach) exposed to the same viewB as he who conies
from the sea. For he enters by the Porto del Populo and sees first
all that is finest. After all, however, many months must be spent in
Rome before it comes up in any measure to the expectations which
one cannot but form of it from its name in history Hut by re
sidence there, it does rise until it is felt that modem Rome is af
ter all a city of singular grandeur and interest, Not that there
is much in Rome that is perfectly beautiful. Except the facade
of the Doria palace ijideed, there is but litttle architecture along
the line of the streets that is exquisitely fine ; and the churches
generally speaking are built in a style veiy inferior to those of North
ern Europe where the gothic architecture prevails.
The Corso, which is the central street of the city running in a
light line from the Tuscan Entrance to the capitol, is a fine street,
so diversified by richly decorated churches, monastries and palaces
as to be in some places highly picturesque and every where res
pectable in point ol architecture. During the carnival indeed when
draperies are hung from the balconies and windows of the houses
all along, the Corso is a peculiarly beautiful streetIt is not easy to
admire it, however, during the carnival in consequence of the ex
cessively foolish and childish amusements which are then going on ;
but it is a fine street. With regard to these amusements it is
really wonderful how a people so habitually grave and even me
lancholy as the Romans, can stoop to such fooleries as these of the
carnival, attacking each other or rather dirtying each others hats
and carriages with handfulls of chalk-h.iil as they drive along,
or waiting with expectation for the moment when a cannon which
Government stoops to fire announces that the Barbari or wild
horses have been let goNot but it is a fine idea to race hor
ses, when they run without riders and no faster than they choose
as those who have not witnessed the scene are generally taught to
believe, with respeet to the wild-horse races which take place on
the coiso during the carnival. And certainly the lines of soldiers
all along the street which are drawn up belore the hour of start
ing might well lead one to expect something great and spiritstirring What was our disappointment then, when the moment came
and a few ponies ran past, Irighiened out of their senses by pieces
of tinsel tied to their backs, and instead of trying to pass each
other as in a race keeping close together at the tail of the one who
Started first in strict obedience to the gregarious nature ol the
horse ! In fact the race of the Barbari in Home during the
carnival is but one degree better than a race of dogs with pans
at their tails yet such is a specimen of the amusements which
the Roman Government supplies, or at least supports, lor the Ro

122

man people. And indeed if it be true that the procession of

; Magnates who precede the running of the Burbari is on its way
it hen seeu iu the streets, to receive from the Jews a tribute in
consideration of which the Holy see agreed lo accept of the whip
ping along the street of wild noises instead of unhappy Isreliuie*
as used to he, it is all vety well ; and ridiculous as the scene is, it
speaks vol nines. It were only to be wished that the Human
^Government instead of spending money in the childish amusements
of the people, (of whicli the fireworks from the top of the piison of St. Angelo during Easier, is a glaring instance, and which, it
is said, costs the Government 1200 each lime,) would rather make.
a few roads and bridges so as to open up the country to industry
and honest men.
With regard to the individual objects in modern Rome that
which ccitainly claims the first attention of the traveller is the
Cathedral of St. Peters. When viewed in connection with its
magnificent dome and arm-dike colonnades, embracing the spacious
area with its obelisk and luuntams, St. Peters is certainly the
most magnificent piece ol christian architecture which exists. But
it is certainly not the first either as to grandeur or grace. And no
wonder. The design was changed again and again, by at least
tall a dozen successive architects, and one piece is built upon one
design, and another upon another. The consequence of this is that
St. Peters is lather a vast and magnificent pile of building than
n great and a beautiful unity. If we could conceive St. Pauls in
'London encreased to the size it would have been if the same
quantity of materials had been employed upon it as have been
spent on St. Peters, I cannot but think that it would have been
far finer in every point of view except in the gorgeous decorati
ons of the interior, which are certainly no where equalled out of
Home.
The most remarkable feature in St. Peters is the apparent
amallness of all its puns contrasted w ith their actual vastness.
The wonder is not that every object about the church is so large
as it appears to be, but seems so small compared with what it
really is. On walking up the area towards, the lacade for instance
the colomus on it seem large no doubt, but still not remarkably
so. It is only when a spectator stretches out his arms as if to
embrace one of the columns and is soon looking like a squirrel
at the foot of a cocoanut tree, that the real magnitude is shown.
In the interior in like manner, tvuy object appears much smaller
than it really is. The little white marble cherubs as one would
say, while he admires on entering the figures which support the
cisterns of holy water, prove on being measured to be monstrous
creatures six feet high, so that instead of cherubs one is disposed to
ascribe their paternity, to Milton's Satan. The four evangelists in
like manner in the interior of the cupola which seem about six
are in reality sixteen feel high. The letters of the legend " Tu es
Peirus &c." round the cupola look not more than one, though they

323 ]

$re six feet high. In a word the bronze pillars of the Bnlduchina
or canopy of the high altar themselves stem as 15 oi 20 feet high
while they are iJo leet. Every object in short seems quite small
compared with what it really is.
But is not this the greatest
iauli which an ecclesiastical structure cuu have ? Surely every
place o( worship should appear to he as vast as it leally is at
least, and if more vast than it really is, so much the belter. For
the aspect of vastness awakens the emotion of the sublime, a feeling
which is akin to that of devotion, and when such a state ol leel
ing is gained merely as the iruil of architectural genius without,
cost, it is a great point gained. In St. Peters on the contrary,
every thing looks much smaller than it is, so that effectively much
of the material is, as it were, lost and thrown away. It is possible
however, that this may be inevitable in every buildiug, be what it
may, when its magnitude transcends a certain limit. It is at least
certain that the same feelings are experienced on the first view of
other vast objects. The falls ol Niagara appear as nothing compa
red with what they really are, and the same is true of the Pyra-.
mids of Egypt. Even a lofty mountain grows upon the eye lor
years. But it is also possible that this is not a general law.
The gpthic architecture, at least when it reaches to certain dimensions
imparts to a building an aspect fully equal, if not exceeding, what we
should expect from the quantity of material employed. The Gothic style
is therefore the fittest of all for places of worship, and certainly of
the churches of Home, said to be 365 in number, there is not one
worthy of being even a moment compared with York Minster.
There is not one of them that has a religious expression. They
pre much more like civic halls, eouit-rooms or balls of justiceas
indeed the finest of them, the Basili, originally were.
The season to see Rome to the greatest advantage is the Holy
week. Then it is most especially that the Latin church displays its
magnificence ; and all the dignitaries may be seen, the Pope himself
included. It falls to his Holiness at that season to be carried in
state, that is, sitting in a chair supported on poles, on mens shoul
ders, and followed by magnificent lans of leathers. This does not
suit well with the feelings ol the present Pope. The author once
saw him in this predicament and could not but ask a kindly dis
posed priest who volunteered his services as cicetoue, why it was
that when every one else seemed to enjoy so much the magnificent
pageant, he who was (he central object ol the whole, looked so
downcast and woebegone. The well disposed ecclesiastic answered
that the reason ol the ill looks of his Holiness was that being a man of
singular humility, he was; quite overwhelmed at being called upon as he
was then, U) personate and represent our Saviour. This explanation
could not he lound fault with, and in the absence of evidence to the
contrary was ofcouisc received as a true one. But walking home with a
friend who was much at Court and had access to know the pri
vate feelings of Gregory the XVlth, he said that he was very
glad that his friend the Pope had got this day over without any
untoward accident. I remarked that he looked very ill and that I had

124 ]

heard a conspiracy had been discovered in Florence ; and J asked if

any such or other cause of alarm were apprehended at Rome. Ob
no said my friend but his holiness is so peculiar that it is only by
practising for two or three days in the private galleries of the
Vatican that he can gut this carrying in state over, without astouislw
jng the crimson hats and robes of his bearers, or possibly the n>agT
nijicent plumes and gold and green uniforms of his guarua di nobili
around him, with the contents of his stomach ! On comparing this
view pi the case with that given by the priest, would it not be
easy to write a volume ?
St. Peter's, magnificent as it is, is not a building by it
self, but rather the chapel of the Vatican which is au immense
quadrangular warehouse-looking palace said to contain eleven thousand
appartments, where the Pope resides during the wiiuei season, and
of which the mpst interesting parts to the traveller are the sculpture gal
lery and the stanze di Raphaellq as these appartments are called,
the walls of which \vere painted in fresco by Raphael, and which,
though not a little defaced and discoloured now, still shew most
beautifully the exquisite taste and genius of that unrivalled artist.
Among the sculptures are the Apollo Btlvidere, the Lacoon and indeed
all that is best, ' except the Venus di Medici which is at Florence.
In speaking of St. Peter's and the Vatican, however, we must not
forget the Sistine, the Pope's private chapel, which contains in fresco
that extraordinary composition of Michael Aiigelo, the last judge
ment, and on the roof, his most spirited frescos of the evangelists and
prophets and other subjects But our space will not permit us to
enter into such particulars, though criticism on the fine arts is the
theme to w-hich above all others modem Rome invites.
To think of the state of religion and of government at Rome is
rery painful. The English aie indeed greatly beholden to the Pope
for allowing them a place in which to celebrate divine worship ac
cording to the usage of the church of England; and perhaps we
are called upon to ascribe such conduct to Letter motives, but at the
same time perhaps it is nearer the truth to cay that the English
owe their meeting house at Rome as much to themselves as to the
Pope. What adds to the deptli ol' the melancholy ou contemplating
the religious slate of Koine, is that one cannot easilv discover in Rome
any institution or set of men from whom the regeneration of their
country either political or religions is at all likely to emanate. It
is very different in Athens, as we shall endeavour to shew in the.
next number. The stale of ignorance of the population of Rome is
inconceivably great, although indeed when one calls to mind
the slender opportunities they have of acquiring knowledge, their ig
norance is not greater than is to be expected, Rome contains about
100,000 inhabitants, yet there is only one trivial newspaper published
there, and that is good for little but for telling how many tempo
rary triumphal arches on such and such an occasion, his holiness
passed under in his progress, and such like trash. There are a few
booksellers shops indeed ; but they contain no popular reading.

125 J

Hie service of the church too being in Tann, the people are depriv
ed of the religious instruction which attendance on divine service,
weie it in the vernacular tongue, would impart. Moreover the priest*
preach but veiy seldom, and when they do their object is too often
merely to indoctrinate the people in the divine authority of their
order.
It is not possible to write with moderation On the state of religion
and government at Rome ; and as discussions on these themes would
be out of place in these pages, let us turn away froin modern and look
for a moment to Ancient Rome. And where among the ruins shall
we first direct our steps ? First and last, and often between, go
to the Coliseum if you desire to see the noblest ruin in existence,
and that which more than most others is calculated to fill the mind
with lofty associations. Besides that it is as grand and beautifully form
ed an amphitheatre as the eye of the beholder could desire to rest
upon, it tells the whole history of the Roman people, iheir rise, their
Jong sustained dominion, their fall. Alid though it be most painful
to read the placards, as one enters the arena, setting forth the in-
dulgences which the church grants to those who come to adoTe (at) the
cross erected in the centre, yet is there not something pleasing too
in beholding that cross standing in the midst of a green sward, where
christians were wont to be exposed to wild beasts by a barbarous peo
ple in the midst of bloody sand. Near the Coliseum too, is the
arch of Titus wheie figures in Bas-relief are seen of ihe sacred
vessels described in the Bible only, and borne by the Roman Emperor
in triumph when he took Jerusalem ; and but a few yards in another
direction is the arch of Constantine too and quite near is the palace
of the Cesars, and that of Nero and the temple of Peace and that
of Rome and Venus and the Forum and the Capitol, &c. &c. But
as we shall have to refer to these again when describing the ruins
of Athens vva may omit all reference to them now and here con*
elude.

laconf.es.
Life's Pleasures what are they ? Sunbeams playing upon a cobweb.
Fame is Ambition's foot marks on the dust of age : Time passes by, erases
them, and smiles.
Love is the poetry of life; God has written it in the heart of manthe
universal human heart,it sings of a lost Paradise and it's moral is Heaven.
Ed. C. M.

t 1 )
Kotcft from $otn*.

AS-M-tms or Hailstones.M. Girariin, in a letter to M. Arago, gives the re

sults ot the analysis, which he has
made of hailstones, collected in the
month of February last.
It appears,
from this paper, that hailstones contain
a considerable portion of organised and
azutized matter, and a sensible quan
tity of lime and sulphuric acid. The
experiments of chemists have before
proved, that rain water, in falling through
the atmosphere, carries with it in solu
tion to the earth, atnmouiacal salts,
calcareous salts, and a flocliy mutter,
which is, without doubt, the origin of
the deleterious principles which are
designated by the term ruis ruatn.
Hitherto, however, no one has stated
the existence of this organic matter
ill hailstones.JJvarden's Miscellany.
From the. calendar of the prisoners
to be tried at the Salford Hundred
sessions, it appears there are 127 per
sons charged with felony : of whom 53
have received no education ; 35 can read
imperfectly ; 34 can read and write im
perfectly ,* and only three can read and
write well. There are twenty-two persons
charged with misdemeanours, of whom
eight can neither read nor write; seven
can read imperfectly ; six can read and
write imperfectly ; and only one can
lead and write well.
I.itf.rabt Novelties. A summer
amongst the Bocages and the Vines. By
Miss L. S. Coslello. The Arabs in Spain.
An historical romance.
Sketches of
Country Life; By one of the Old School.
The African Slave Trade and its He.
medy. By T. F. Bnrlim Esq. Tippoo
Sultann: an historical romance. By
Capl. M. Taylor. Memoirs of the Right
Hon. Warren Hastings. By the Rev.
G. R. Gleiq. The History of Duels
and Duelling. By Dr. Millingen. Say
ings and Doings of Sam Slick : third
aeries. The Man at Arms. By 0. P.
Ji. Janus, Esq.

Glass Tapkstiy.Two specimen* oj

this new manufacture were exhibited
at the Marquis of Northampton's last
soiree. They were rich silk curtains*
liaviiig all the appearance of being
inwoven in gold and silver in most
gorgeous patterns of arabesque. They
looked and felt exactly like the most
splendid hangings of the l.ouis Quatorze tasle; but their cost is a mere*
trifle in comparison, for the gold and
silar are merely woven glass. Mechanic's Magazine.
New Allots or Metals. A curious
and valuable discovery has just bee*
made in the alloy of metals.
A
manufacturer of Paris has invented a
composition much less oxidable than
silver, and which will not melt at lesa
than a heat treble that which silver
will bear; the cost of it is less than
-iM. an ounce. Another improvement
is in steel; an Englishman at Brus
sels has discovered a mode of casting
iron so that it flows from the furnace
pure steel, belter than the best caststeel in England and almost equal to
that which has undergone the process
of beating, only costing a farthing pet
pound more than cast iron.Mining
Jourttal.
Novel Railway. M. Fonard has
proposed to the French Academy of
Sciences a plan to make certain narrow
and rapid streams of water drive weights
upwards towards their source. He pro
poses to have rails laid on each side
of the canal or stream add the axle of
a carriage (striding we suppose the
canal) to be the axle of a water-wheel
having curved paddles like those pro
posed by M. Poncelet, which the water
acting ,m, will drive upwards andof course
force the carriage forward.Atlas.

127

8Tljf atljeret*
I^irst Love. Scarce one person out
of twenty marries his first love, and
scarce one out of twenty of the reruainder has cause to rejoice at having
done so. What we love in those early
days is generally rather a fanciful crealion of our own than a reality.
We
build statues of snow, and weep when
they melt. Sir W. Scott.
"The poets," says the Buffalo Journal, "are not all dead," anil give this
example: The [files (Michigan) InUlligencer publishes a call for a meeting
of the citizens to repair a ' Corduroy'
road near that place, and compels the
muses to second the call in the following stanza:
,-,,
, would
, , travel

...
'. Those
who
it,
,
, , turn
.
Should
out and. gravel,'..
it,
,,
. ,
s, ,
'
i or now it s not passable,

k
hi '
*
'
WnENToI.KAVEOKT. It is the standard complaint against jokers, and whistplayers, and children, whether playing Or
cryingthat they "never know when
to leave off." It is a common charge
against English winters and flannel
Waistcoatsit is occasionally hinted of
vich and elderly relationsit is constantly said of snufl'takers, and gentlemen
who enjoy a good glass of wine, that
they "do not know when to leave off.'
It is the fault oftenest found with cer
tain preachers, sundry poets, and all
prosers, scolds, Parliamentary orators,
superannuated story-tellers, she-gossips,
roorniug-calls, and some leave-takers,
*' that they do not know when to leave
off." It is insinuated as to gowns and
coats, of which waiting men and wait
ing women have the reversion.
It is
the characteristic of a Change-alley
speculatorof a beaten boxer of a
builder's row, with his name attached
to itof Hollando-Belgic protocols of
(ierman metaphysics of works in num
bers of buyers and sellers tin credit
of a theatrical cadence of a shocking
bad hat and of the Gentleman's Mayaline, that they " do not know Iwheii to
leave off." A romp all Murphy's frost.
showers, storms and hurricanesand
the Wandering Jew are in the same
predicament. Hood's Comic Annul.

corruptions of the great, gifted with a

lofty spirit, a strong mind, and ambitious of true glory, Lafayette felt dis.
gust for the frivolities of the court and
the pedantic discipline of the army,
Lafayette, almost alone, maintained
his opinions, demanded the Eliits &
niruuz, promoted the union of all class :3
of the people, and was appointed as a
recompense, Commander-in-Chief of the
National Huard. Lafayette was not
one to abuse power : with an equanimity
of temper, a lofty spirit and an invariably disinterested conduct, he was
peculiarly fitted for the part allotted
him, that of seeing the laws executed.
Adored by the troops without having
won them
bv
victories:
.; .full.. of calm.,
ness and
the . excite ., sagucitv

, amidst
,
. ,
inent oi the populace, he maintained
, _..,_ j e f. i_, ,
rru
order with indefatigable vigilance. I hose
who found him incorruptible, attacked
his abilities because they dared not
asperse his character. He was not to
he deceived as to events or persons
knew how to value the court and the
heads of parties, protected them at the
peril of his life without esteeming them,
and often struggled against factions without hope, hut with the constancy of a
man who will never abandon the publie good even when he despairs of
it." Hist : de la Hteol : Francaise- Par
M. Thiers.

Latatf.ttf,. Descended from an anci

ent and honorable family which hail pre
ferred its original simplicity amidst the

4. " A short plan of the Doctrine of

troth unto godliness" translated by Rev.
J. P. Witzelius, printed An. 174-1.

List of Books translated and pub

lished in Cevlon under the Dutch (Jovernment for promoting Christian Know*
ledge among the Heutheus.
In Singhalese.
1. The New Testament translated into
Singhalese by the Rev. Messrs. J P.
Witzelius and H. Philips and printed
at the Government Printing office, An.
1776.
2. The Old Testament in Singhalese
by the Rev. H. Philips of which tho
5 books of Moses were printed,
3 The Confession of Faith translated
bv Rev J. P. Witzelins and printed
An. 1742.

! H* J
4. The Liturgy, by P. De MeUM,
printed 1760.

5. Ritual-book printed 1744c

6. Select Sermons of the Rev. W,
Konyn printed 1746.

5. The Heidelberg Catechism, by Rev*

S. A. Bronsveld, printed An. 1763.
7. A new edition of the same in
17C3.
6. An abridgement of the Heidelberg
8. The Heidelberg Catechism trans
Catechism, printed 1751.
lated bv Rev. W. Konyn printed An.
7. Meditation and Prayers of Da
1780.
9. Questions and Answers about the Mullin and Drellingcourt, translated
true doctrine of the Christian Religion into Tamul, by J. Franciscua, printed
for the use of Schools, in 4 parts, to 1778.
which are annexed a few prayers, by
8. Doctrine of the truth, by David
the Rev. H. Philipsedit. 1780.
De Kribbe.
10. Part of the Psalm of David in
9. The same work by Rev. M. J. OnRhvina, by tho Rev. A. Bronsveld daatjeandP.J.Toutor, printed An. 1789.
edii. 1785.
10. Catechism for children in Tamul,
11. Singhalese Grammar, by the ReT. by the Rev. S. A. Bronsveld, printed
H. Philips and printed by Government
An. 1773.
authority.
1 1 . Triumph of the truth, by the Rev.
II.
De Melho, printed An. 1773.
In Tamul.Printed at the Colombo
1 2. ft istory ofthe Old Testament, print
Government Printing Office.
ed 1753.
1. The Old Testament fortheTamul
13. History of the New Testament,
Congregations printed An. 1790.
printed 1785.
2. The Now Testament translated
1 4. An abridged history of Christianity
by several Clergymen and Proponents
1787.
printed An. 1759.
15. A refutation of the chief error*
3. Selections from the Psalms of Da
vid and other Hymns, by the Rev. P. De of the Roman Catholics 1773.
Jtelho, printed An. 1755.

patriotism,
CATO.
They neivr fail who strike for liberty,
They may be crushed ; but they are not forgotten :
They leave their names as watchwords to inspire us
On through the glorious breach in which they fell ;
And so they triumph ev'n in death.
CICERO.
Thy word*
Have breathed in me new life, and have inspired me
When I was faint and wavering. We will not
Give way, we will devote ourselves, and conquer;
Or be first sacrifices on Rome's Altar.
CATO.
There spake the sage and patriot ! Noble Roman f
Not by the wisdom traced on dusty scrolls,
The legacies that dead men leave their kind,
Is man ennobled ; no : 'Tis by eiample !
Deeds, deeds alone live in his memory :
For they come home to the heart, and are recorded
With pride, and kindle noble rivalsbip :
They are like landmarks pointed to; when pens
Statues, and brass, are nothing.
Catiline , *r the Soman

f 129 ]
Extracts from ptrtoBtcala
ACh.ibf, The dreary and fast-darkening
waste hail now opened upon them in ail
Jls horrors. Far as the gaze could reach
appeared an immense expanse, flat al
must as the surface of the ocean, and
unmarked, so far as could be discern
ed in that doubtful light, by any
trace of human footstep, or habitation.
It was a stern and sombre prospect,
and calculated to inspire terror in the
stoutest bosom. What effect it pro,
duced on Viviana may be easily con
jectured. But her nature was brave
and enduring, and, though she trem
bled so violently as scarcely to be able
to keep her seat, she gave no utter
ance to her fears. They were now
skirting that part of the morass, since
denominated, from the unfortunate spe
culation already alluded to, " Roscoe'a
Improvements." 1 his tract was the
worst and most dangerous portion of
the whole moss. Soft, slahby, and un
substantial, its treacherous beds scarcely
nnWed secure footing to the heron
that alighted on them. The ground
shook bcueath the fugitives as they hur
ried past the edge of the groaning and
quivering marsh. The plover, scared
from its nest, uttered its peculiar and
plaintive cry ; the bittern shrieked ;
other night-fowl poured forth their dole
ful notes; and the bull-frog added its
deep croak to the ominous concert. Behind them came the thundering tramp
and loud shouts of their pursuers.
Guv Fawkes had judged correctly.
Before they reached Baysnape the
moon had withdrawn behind a rack
of clouds, and it had become profoundly dark. Arrived at this point, Hum.
pbrey Chetham called to them to turn
off to the right.
" Follow singly," he said, " and do
not swerve a hair's breadth fron the
path. The slightest deviation will be
fatal. Do you, sir," he added to the
priest, " mount behind Guy Fawkes,
and let Miss Radcliffc come next af
ter me. If I should miss my way,
do not stir for your life."
The transfer effected, the fugitives
turned off to the right, and proceeded
at a cautions pace along a narrow and
shaking path. The ground trembled

so much beneath them, and their hor,

ses' feet sank so deeply in the plashy
bog, that Viviaua demanded, in a tone
of some uneasiness if he was sure ho
had taken the right course?
" If I had not," replied Humphrey
Chetham, " we should ere this have
found our way to the bottom of the
morass."
As he spoke, a flounderni; plunge,
accompanied by a horrible and quicklystifled cry, told that one of their pur
suers had perished in endeavouring to
follow them.
" One poor wretch is gone to hia
account," observed Viviana, in a tone
of commiseration. "Have a care!
have a care, Master Chetham, lest you
share the same fate."
" If I can save you, I care not
what becomes of me," replied the young
merchant. "Since I can never hope
to posess you, life has become value
less in my eyes."
" Quicken your pace, Master Che
tham," shouted Guy Fawkes, who
brought up the roar." "Our pursuers
have discovered the track, and are
making towards us."
" Let them do so," replied the young
merchant. "They can do us no far
ther injury."
" That is false !" cried the voico
of a soldier from behind. And as the
words were uttered a shot was fired,
which, though aimed against Chetham,
took effect upon his steed. The ani
mal staggered, and his rider had only
time to slide from his back when he
reeled off the path, and was ingulfed
in the marsh.
Hearing the plunge of the stee.d,
the man fancied he had hit his mark,
and hallooed in an exulting voice to
his companions. But his triumph was
of short duration. A hall from the
petronal of Guy Fawkes pierced hia
brain, and dropping from his saddle,
he Bank, together with his horse, which
he dragged along with him into the
quagmire.

30

" Waste no more shot," cried Hum

phrey Cuethani ; " the swauip will
tight our buttles for us. Though 1
grieve for the loss of my faithful
horse, T mny be better able to guide
you on foot."
With this he seized Viviana's bri
dle, and drew her steed along at a
quick pace, but villi the greatest
caution. Guy Fawkes, from Btntiey's
Miscellany, March 1840.
On the 1st of June 1793, Lord
Howe's ship, the Queen Charlotte, is
staled by the French accounts to have
killed 100 men on board the French
Admiral's three-decker by a single
raking broadside. At the battle of
the Nile, the Orion seventy-four sunk
the French frigade Serieuse by a sin
gle broadside. At the buttle of Tra
falgar, Lord Collingwood, in the Roy
al Sovereign, poured into the Spanish
first-rate Santa Anna a raking broudside, which alone, by the admission
of the Spanish officers, killed and
wounded nearly 400 of the crew, and
disabled fourteen of her guns. The
first broadside which the Victory fired
into the French admiral's stern on
the same occasion, was of an equ
ally destructive character. It was sta
ted by M. Villeneuve himself to have
disabled 400 Frenchmen, dismounted
twenty-one guns, and rendered the ship
nearly defenceless during the rest of
the action.Edinburgh Jlciiew, April
1840.
I Suggested Improvement in the Ma
nnfact lire of Sugar. M. Peligot, who
has lately examined the process for
making sugar adopted in Matinique,
which however is not considered so
economical as that employed in the
British islands, has suggested several
improvements. He has found that

100 parts of the juice of tie sugar

cane, as it exists when introduced
into the boilers, contain 21 per cent,
of sugar, while that of beet-root pos
sesses scarcely 10 per cent; the caue
itself containing 90 per cent, of juice.
According to Peligot, the sugar boil
ers in Franco extract 5 per cent, of
sugar from the juice Qt' the beet-root,
that is, one-half, while in Martinique
the product of the juice, of the sugar
cane by the usual process is only
from 6 to 8 per cent, or about onethird of the actual quantity of sugar
existing in the juice. He endeavours
to prove that this loss depends upon
the unscientific method of conducting
the process. The apparatus consists,
of a series of boilers heated by the.
same fire. The juice is first intro
duced into the boiler which is most
distant from the fire, and which is
consequently the coolest j from thence
it is conveyed into the remainder of
the series, and is thus exposed to a
gradual measure of temperature, in,
proportion to the concentration. Now
fermentation most readily lakes place
at a temperature of between 80 and
100 , while it ceases to go ou in
fluids heated to the temperature of
140= or 160. The object therefore
should he to raise the temperature at
once above this point; and not to
elevate it too high, because such a
proceeding will be apt to produce a
greater quantity of molasses. Much
loss is also sustained in the. extrac
tion of the juice by the mills: from
1 00ft. of cane 50ft. of juice are onlyextracted, while the cane contains 90.
per cent. Peligot advises that after
the cane is passed through the mill,
it should be plunged into boiling wa
ter, in order to undergo a second
compression. Athenaum,

131

REGISTER OF WEATHER AT THE MADAWELLATENNE ESTATE

FOR SEPTEMBER 1840.

The operatioins of
the season, viz.
1'luvioplanting and form
Remarks.
meter.
ing nurseries pro
Sept
12 6pceeded hut slowly
until the middle of
1 70. ?6 7383
Shower at intervals
the month, when
.( 7ti 7 :
2
1
gentle showers ena
Cloudy & still
1 77 73
3
2
Do.
Do.
bled them to pro
4
>>
2 71
Showery & Squally
1.5
ceed rapidly ; about
5
2 78 7. j
1
Hot St Dry.
200 acres being plan
6 70 H2 7
0
Cloudy at intervals
ted in this vicinity ;
Ml
Hi
7
the full of rain this
0
Hot & Dry
.'J
8
10
73
0 Cloudy at intervals
month however is
9 72
72
far below that of
0
Do.
Do.
(i
10
2 78 71
the same period last
Du.with a slight show
a SO 71
11
year being only 6
er at 12 o'clock
9
70 79 72
12
inches 68 cents ;
Do.
Do.
2
13
78 71
many Rice fields
Do.
Do.
12
14
77 73
even within the ranga
0 Cldy. & slight shower
15
79 71
8
of the hills being
Do.
Do.
73
78
still uncultivated, ow
13
18
Do.
Do.
. 1
79
17
ing to the ' scanty
Do:
Do.
IS
18
supply
of
rain.
40 ,4
12
Do.
Do.
SO 74
19
The Coffee planted,
II
Do. & Sultry
20
does not however
79 73
0
Cldy. & Sultry
79 73
21
Do.& slight shower seem to feel tho
9
22
SO 73
short supply, tho
0
Cloudy
Plants which have
71
23
77
Warm & Cloudy
o
fairly taken
root
24
76 73
28
Showery
growing rapidly, and
77
25
;2
85
Fine rain
being of very good
76 71
2C
21
Showery
color, advantage has
27
77
71
line rain
30
been taken of the
28
78
71
Do.
Do.
54
dry- days to clear
79
29
72
0
Bright Day
the ground of the
30
76 88
o
Do.
Do.
constant succession
Do.
Do.
of weeds willt which
Maximum.
; i S2 Ji
68
the clearings are en>li
ct\mberijd ; i\ is tho
76
Minimum.
opinion 'of the natives
Average
that the October rains
78
71
.
very
will prov
owing to the very light weather of the whole of
the monsoon -Prevailing winds W. S. W. "with daws occasionally from the
N. E.
KOBBE GALLA.
Thermometer

P. S.Plentiful rains have been falling in and about Randy lor the last
6 or 8 days, thus making up, in some degree, for the very unusually dry
Monsoon ; such dry and unfavorable weather has not been known for some
years. If the rains now hold on, the season for Coffee planting will after
all prove about an average one, and all fears of a short Rice crop will turn
out groundless. The Cholera in Kandy is much abated, very few cases hav
ing occurred since the late wet weather and hopes are entertained that by
this time it will have entirely disappeared.
October 15/A, 1840.

132

KEGISTER OF WEATHER ON THE HANTENNE ESTATE FOR

SEPTEMBER

September

16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30

REMARKS.

f
A. M.

M.

P. M,

67
68
70
68
68
70
68
68
66
68
60
66
68
68
68

70"
72
74
72
70
64
72
70
68
70
68
70
70
74
70

68"
68
68
70
66
68
68
68
66
66
66
68
68
70
70

68
68
68
66
68
68
68
68
68
68
68
68
68
69
68

74
72
71
68
70
74
72
70
70
72
70
68
70
71
72

68
68
68
68
68
70
70
66
68
66
66
68
68
69
68

Oct.

1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
5

OCTOBER, 1840.

The weather generally speaking,

has been exceedingly favorable to
the planter in this quarter : I ima
gine that very few in any part of
the Kandian District, could have
wished for a finer season than we
have had on this range of moun
tains. The rains sectn now fairly
set in and as may be supposed every
advantage is taken of them to plant
out newly cleared land, supply de
ficiencies from failures and make
nurseries.
The rapid growth of weeds during
this weather renders the operation
of cleaning a laborious one, but it.
is too important in he neglected.
The young plants placed ont in
ttte early part of the rains are look
ing fts well as could possibly be
wished. In some parts a few ber
ries are being gathered and in a
week or ten days the whole of the
crops in this part will he ripened.
The health of this estate slil'
continues very good, neither fever
nor cholera having appeared.

t 133 ]
METEOROLOGICAL JOURNAL KEPT ON THE HUNA8GTRIA
RANGE OF MOUNTAINS, AT AN KLEVATION OF
NEARLY 3,000 FEET.
Range of
Tiler: at

Rain j Full
in
of
Inches dew

Prevail
ing
Winds.

PREVAILING WEATHER.

Date 6a. m tp.m6p.ir

hea
Sept
w. 16 63- 68 64o 1,015 vy. W.8. W. Rainy day and night with hard squalls.
Do. S. WbyS. Fine cloudy day and night
1.17 6-2 70 66 ,

as

68

64

-,064 Do.

. 19 Hi

68

65

1,075 Do.

S.S.W. Heavy rain, evening and night.

S.20 63

OS

60

-,045 Do.

W.S.W. Light showers with breeze and squalls.

. 18

W.S.W. Light showers with moderate breeze.

.31 63

70

67

-,075 Do.

W.S.W. Light showers with moderate wind.

T. 22 6!

71

68

-,525 Do.

W.S.W. (lonely day with passing showers.

w.23| 64

67

G.'.

2,850 Do.

Var.

Heavy rain day and night, li^ht squalls,

T. 24

67

65

4, Do.

do.

1 Heavy rain with hard squalls.

t. 25

67

65

-,175 Do.

t.26

67

64

3, Do.

8. 27 62

67

65

2,075

.28

70

67

1.2!

71

66

Do.

S.W.

Fine clear day and night, moderate wind.

w.3

70

67

Do.

S.W.

Fine clear and sultry day.

71
70
70
71
70
71
72

67

light W.S.W. Fine dry clear day, light winds.

Do. I
Do.

W.N.W. Light shower p.m. fine a.m.light breeze.

N.W.
Do.

Heavy ruin with hard squalls day &night

Heavy rain with strong breeze.

North. .Fine dry and cloudy day, light wind.

Oct.

65

T.

t. 2| 63
I. 3 62

S.
M.
T.
w.
r.

4
5;
&'
7
S

63
63
65
64
65

08

Do.

67

livy. W.S.W. Fine clear and sultry day, fine night.

68

Do.

Do.

Do.

Do. Weather.

Do. Weather.

OS

-,075 Do. |S.W.byS. Fine clear day; showery night

67

-,075 Do.

68

Do.

73

OS

Tl

65

-.855 JDo.
H JDo.

e. lo| 66
S. II 63

68

65

2,

Do.

S.W.

Frequent raiu day and night.

68

66

1,075 Do.

S.W.

Showery and cloudy Jay a id night

M. 12 64
T. 13 64
w. 14

69

65

1,050 Do.

S.W.

67

tki

2,050 Do.

67

66

2,080 Do.

T. 15

60

66

1,

T. 16 63

OH

60

2,075',Do.

Do.

Fine cloudy day, showery night.

W.S.W. Fine cloudy day and night

S.W.byS.JFine a.m. showery p.m. light squalls.
W.S.W. Fine dry day and night, light wind

*. 9J65

Max

mil

Do.

Do. Weather, light wind.

W.S.W. Heavy rain day and night.

Do.

Heavy rain with hard squalls.

W.S.W. Light showers during day, rainy night

W.S.W. Rainy day and night

27,235!

yr.A*

134 ]

R R A T A.
oo

Page 51, line 15, for " Nvdaga Tamil" read "Nadaga Tamil."

25, for "Ten Muzlie" read "Ten Muzhi."

35, for " Pawanandi" read " Pavanandi."

Page 52, line

i,

I, for " Besdie" read " Beschi."

9, for "received" read "reviewed."

Page 64, column 1, line 4, for " Terirvalluver" read " Tiruvatluver."

1,

2, line 10, for " Eimooroo" read " Ennooroo."

line 11, for "plan of felicity" read "place of felicity."

Page 65, column 1, line 2, for " Tirafrasagam" read " Tiruvasagam."

line 14, for " Saiva" read " Saivas"

line 26, for " in verses" read " in verse."

line 27, for "God Kertikeya" read "god Kirtikeya."

line 43, for " Combatoor " read " Coimbaloor."

j,

line 50, for " Kondie" read " Kondei Veynden."

line 53, for "310 districts" read "310 distichs."

Page 66, column 1,

line 10j for "worthy of Seneca himself" read "as worthy

of Seneca himself."
Page 66, column 1, line 11 , for " Anveiyar" read " Aiwriyar."

line 33, for " his present history" real" his personal history.'

,,

line 44, for " yoghi" read " a yoghi."

line 52, for " by word or deed" read " my word or door"

2,

line

1, for "before I Awake" read "before I awoke."

Page 72, line 42, for " keep peace" read " keep pace."

CEYLON MAGAZINE
No. IV.

December, 1840.

Vol. I.

THE READER.

No. IV.
sultAn's paradise regained.

Cedite, Roman! Scriplorea ; cedite, Graii :

Nescio quid majna nascitur Iliade.
Propertini
IMITATION.

Ye Roman Bards, illustrious Greeks, give way :

Not Homer's self bursts forth with brighter ray.
Anonymous.

Addison,who led the way, and has never been excelled, In

the criticigm of Milton's Paradise Lost,fully considered that
truly divine Poem under the four heads of fable, character, senti
ments, and language. To keep out of the track of this elegant
critic, and of his great master, Aristotle, w* may remark that there
is a faculty of mind, exercised by our Milton, more or less in all
his compositions both in proSe and verse, in which he is greatly
superior to Homer himself. This is that lofty reasoning imagina
tion,;

136

" The glorious faculty assign?d

To elevate the more than reasoning mlud,
And coiour life's dark cloud with orient raja.
Imagination is that sacred power,
Imagination lofte and refined.''
This superiority of oar great epic Poet over the mighty Greek,
mid their illustrious Roman compeer, Virgil, arises not so much
from the inborn genius of the author of Paradise Lost,for no
genius can excel that of the author of Iliad, though a superior
poem may be, and by our Milton, we think, has been construct*
ed, as from the respective times in which they flourished ; the
collective wisdom of ages, and the mightier and holier wisdom of
pur inspired religion being added, to wing the genius of the Chris
tian Poet, aud bear him to " the empyrean." This growing supe
riority, by the effects of time, not in genius, is observ
able in the poems of Virgil,in some of his Eclognes and the
Georgics, as well as in the /Eneid. The philosophical spirit of
the Roman Poet is peculiarly striking, if we compare the sixth
book of the ./Eneid with the eleventh book of the Odyssey, both
describing the descent into the regions of the spiritual world. Vir
gil, as it is proved by Bishop Warburton,f an admirable critic
of such a question,gives a figurative description of the Eleusinian Mysteries. It was perhaps this philosophic spirit of the Ro
man Bard, which induced so fine a mind as Mr. Burke's to prefer
ho /F.neid to the Iliad, t In force of genius, however Homer and
tVngil are not comparable; but Homer and Milton decidedly are.

* " The Imagination is conscious of an indestructible dominion ; the Soul

rimy fall away from it, not being able to sustain its grandeur, but, if once
frit and acknowledged, by no act of any other faculty of the mind can it
be relaxed, Impaired, or diminished," Wordsworth's preface to I'oems, first
published in 2 Vol. 8to. 1815.
. + See Warburton's Divine Legation Book 2 Sect. 4. Works Vol. 2 p. 78s.
el seq. This ingenious and learned Dissertation was replied to by one of
the earliest i:-says of Gibbon, now printed among his Miscellaneous Works.
lie confesses tba( it was in spirit intemperate; nor is it a satisfactory refuta
tion of Waiburtou'* hypothesis. Warburlon, however, is of opinion that the
provinces of the three great epic poets are thus assigned. " As, he says,
Virgil rivnled Homer, so Milton was the emulator of both. He found Homer
possessed of the province of Morality; Virgil of Politict; and nothing was
left for him, but that of Rcli/ion." Vide, ut supra, p. 95. Bishop Newton.
was alio of this opinion. But Dr. Joseph Warton refutes it.
J See BoswkU's Life of Johnson, passim.

137 ]

All the " three poets, in three distant ages born," make the
religion of their several ages, in whole or in part, the subject of
their poems. Horner describes the popular mythology of ancient
Greece. Virgil gives us an insight into the mysteries, the tradi
tions, and the philosophy, of that imperfect creed. Milton alone sits
on the true tripod of inspiration, and breathes forth the sacred
oracles of oar Divine religion. From his earliest years, as Sir
Egcrton Brydges has finery remarked, " a holy inspiration had
already commenced in his mind. The tone of the sacred writings
had taken fast possession of his enthusiasm. There is a solemn
and divine strain as if an oracle spoke ; a sort of prophetic awe
in the outbreathings of Milton, like that of Hebrew poetry."
In my last paper I compared the process of mind in Milton's
Paradise Lost, as well as the subject, with the Hebrew Scriptures.
The Paradise Regained bears the same analogy, in subject and men
tal process, to the Paradise Lost, as the New Testament beai-s to,
the Old. The undoubted superiority of Milton to his great pr<*decessots, therefore, mainly arises from the subjects of his poenis,
and the age in which he flourished.
The ancient heathens understood so much only of good and evil
as resulted from action. They had no conception of that which
springs from the silent depths of thought and contemplation. I
speak of their poetiy and their religion, which were almost inse
parably blended together. " The amhropoinorphitism of the Pagan
religion, says Mr. Wordsworth,subjected the minds of tho
. greatest poets in those countries too much to the bondage of defi
nite lorrn ; from which the Hebrews were preserved by their abhurrence of idolatry. This abh.oirei.icc was almost as strong in our
great epic Poet, both from the circumstances of his life and the
constitution of his mind. However imbued the surface might be
with classical literature, he was a Hebrew in soul; and all things
tended in him towards, the sublime."
The imagery of the Hebrew Scriptures is taken from the
gieat features of nature, the stonu, the whirlwind, and the lire,
the natural executors of the Divine wiath ; and from those agents of
Divine Providence, the sword, the famine, and the pestilence, the
appointed ministers of tho vengeance of the God of Israel. To

138

these may be added the sun, the moon, and the stars, all the host
of heaven, betokening the rise and fall of nations. Death and Hacks
are also employed by the Hebrew poets to fill and to appal the
imagination. Thus the Fall of Babylon is exulted over by the spirits
of the departed kings in a state of separation, while it is compard to the Fall of Lucifer, the Morning Star, which again iu a mys
tical sense glances at theJFall of Satan.
" Hades from beneath is moved because thee, to meet thee at thy

coming :
He rouseth for thee the mighty dead, all the great chiefs of the Earth
He maketh to rise up from their thrones, all the Kings ot the
nations.
All of them shall accost thee, and shall say unto thee :
Art thou, even thou too, become weak as we ? art thou made
like unto us ?
Is then thy pride brought down to the grave ; the sound of thy
sprightly instruments ?
Is the vermin become thy couch, and the earthworm thy covering ?
How art thou fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the Morning !" t
But when the Deity is spoken of, He is never represented by
any definite form. He is an abstraction," a voice, a mystery."
" And the Lord spake unto you out of the midst of the fire : ye
heard the voice of the words, but saw no similitude ; only ye heard
A voice f !" Again, the Voice of Jehovah was heard iu the stillness
of the cool evening breeze in Paradise. " The Lord was not in the
wind, the Lord was not in the Earthquake, the Lord was not in the fire :
but after the fire, A still small voice" made known the Presence of
Jehovah to the prophet, t Before the awful throne of Jehovah in hea
ven, as impressed upon the imagination of the inspired poet and prophet,
the seraphim veil their faces and their feet with their four 'wings,
while with twain they fly. " And they cried alternately and said :
Holy, holy, holy, Jehovah God of Hosts !
The whole earth is filled with his glory."

t
%

Isaiah XIV. 912. Bishop l.owth's Translation.

Deut: IV. 12.
1 Kings XIX. 11. 12.
Isaiah VI. 1.3. Bishop LowUYs Translation.

1M

I cannot deny my reader, or myself, the pleasure of showing how

Wilton has availed himself of this sublime passage of the inspired
prophet and the remaik and quotation are quite in keeping with
our present subjectin his splendid description of the descent of
Raphael, " a seraph winged," who is that of Isaiah, with a slight
difference in the disposition of his wings, for an obvious reason, ma
naged with consummate skill by the poet The pair that veil the
seraph's " face" in the Presence of Jehovah, " come mantling o'er his
breast with regal ornament," before a creature and. an inferior.
" Six wings be had, to shade
Bis lineaments divine; the pair that clad
ach shoulder broad, came mantling o'er his breast
With regal ornament ; the middle pair
Girt like a starry zone his waist, and round
Skirted his loins and thighs with downy gold
And colours dipt in heaven ; the third his feet
Shadowed from either heel with, feathered mail,
Skytinctured grain. Like M aia's son be stood,
And shook his plumes, that heavenly fragrance filled
The circuit wide." *

In the New Testament the thoughts and the imagery are all quiet
and contemplative; except, as I have previously remarked, in the*
Apocalypse, and a few passages of the Gospels and Epistles, in which;
the sacred writers rise iuta prophecy of future events of the Church, and
of the Day of.Judgment. Instead of the storm and the whirlwind and
the fire, we meet with the beautiful and quiet figures of the lilies of the
field, and the fowls of the air, and the shepherd and his sheep.
" Behold the fowls ol the air : fot they sow not, neither do they
reap, nor gather into barns ; yet your Heavenly Father feedeth
them.Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow : they toil
not, neither do they spin : and yet 1 say unto you, that even. So
lomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these." ^ How
exquisitely affecting are such images as these. Jthovah is refund
to as the Invisible by the direct assertion, that " no man hath seen
the face of God at any time ;" instead of the sublime imagery of
the throne of Jehovah, before whom the seraphs veiled their faces
With their wings, which has been already cited from the Hebrew
Tar. Lost B: V. 277.

f Matt: VI. 26, 28.

I "0 ]
eriptnres. He is recognized as the God of Israel by the imp!e
expression of "The God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the
God of Jacob." Every thing, in short, which is depicted by the
spirit of prophecy, and the images of poetry, in the sublime odes
of the inspired Hebrew prophets, is taken for granted. The moral
attributes of God, and the intermediate and final happiness of good
men are insisted on by precept, by argument, and by the simple
beauty of allegory. The allegory, or parable, however, ef (the New
Testament, as it partakes of the character of |tbc compositions of the
Old Testament, so is it very frequently, and indeed commonly, pro
phetic. But 1 now refer to those which are purely practical.
The thoughts and the imagery of Paradise Regained bear the same
resemblance to thjs calm and contemplative character of the New
Testament as to the subject matter : and a similar resemblance exists, as.
1 have already intimated, between Paradise Lost and the Old Testament,
Referring once more to the illustration of the poem of Paradise
Regained by the New Testament, I would say that contemplation,
as opposed to action, in religion and in the highest order of poetry
and imagination, is brought to perfection, if not primarily unfolded,
by the inspired writings of the New Testament, which in its na
ture is so divine that it could derive its source from none other than
Divine Original. The good and evil, which are the offspring
of this spiritual contemplation, extend beyond the present scene of
things. Without this divine faculty the perfection of human nature could
BOt beacconiplislied. Truth would want wings to soar into heaven. For
" Wisdom's self
Oft seeks to. sweet retired sctlituda.
Where with tier beat nurse, contemn ATiny,
Sim plumes her feathers, and lets grow her Kings,
That in the various bust}; of resort
Wero allto milled, and sometimes impaired."
Cotma.

In the next paper I will endeavour to illustrate this truth at large

by a more particular examinaiion of Milton's "brief epic;" and, in
the words of one of his numerous commentators, to show, " That
as in Paradise Lost the poet seems to emulate the sublimity of Moses
and tho Prophets, it appears to have been his wish iu the Paradise
Regained to copy the sweetness and simplicity of the Evangelists."
B.

EngliBh Stotijologw*

[From the Provencal.)

VII.
All moital things will one day fade away:
But Love Divine can never know decay.
Our bodies, nerved with strength, will then become
As tinder softall things will lose their bloom.
The song of birds no more will fill the grove,
Nor nightingale sing her melodious love ;
The pastured oxen, and the snowy sheep.
Will feel the sting impelling dreamless sleep;
Aries' noble steeds, and foxes, wolves, and harts,
Tame goots, wild chamois, fierce boars from all parts,
The wild bear's strength, as dust and sand, shall fail j
The sea-born dolphins, tunny, and the whale,
All frightful monsters, kingdoms, provinces,
Princvs and kings, Death will subdue with i
Above all, markthe mighty eaith will fall,
(Thus Holy Writ) the firmament, yea all
The stars to nothing.All things lade away,
Save Lore Divine, which never knows decay.

Vra.
(From the same.)
When in a mirror, whose reflection's irne,
The various lots of this world meet our view ;
Weighed in the balance every man's pretence,
Twixt high and low how small the difference.
Equals the prince and subjects there we find ;
The Lord leaves not his vassal poor reclined.
The noble, burgess, artist, shepherd, here.
Distant as stars of heaven from earth appear :
Surprised they see the false illusions fade ;
Their lot on earth appears but as a shade.
Death's arm strikes down both birth and rank with time}
Men differ but in virtue and in crime :
The good and evil of their lives are tried ;
The greatest crime is when that difference is denied.
B.

C M2 J
DC
Child of the Summer, thy brow is as fair
As the loveliest morning Lour,
When the perfume hangs on the gentle air.
From the newly ope n'd flower ;
When the Forest King has gone to his lair,
And the busy voice of toiling care
Is yet unheard, and every bower
Is gemm'd with nature's choicest dower.
Child of the Summer, thy smile is sweet
And calm as the close of day,
When the setting sun and ocean meet,
And the glade is press'd by blithesome feet,
And ibe dew is on the spray
And moments of joy on pinions fleet
Are winging their silent way.
Child of the Summer, thine eyes are bright
As stars in the cloudless sky,
Emitting a clear and liquid light,
And gladding the face of the silent night ;
While the Zephyr that rustles bySeems scarce, as it speeds on its heavenward fligbt>
More deep than a Lover's sigh.
Child of the Summer, on lightsome wing
May thine infancy's moments fly,
And joy round thy heartstrings like tendrils cling
And morning and eve to thy spirit bring
That peace which the world may not buy ;
The learning that wells from the sacied spring,
The knowledge that cannot die.
Child of the Summer, may he whose arm
With flowers bedecks the lea,
Who holds in his power the mighty charm,
Of the sweeping storm and the peaceful calm,
Who stillelh the raging sea,
Infuse in thy bosom his holiest balm,
And shower his gifts on thee.

X.
Oil ! ye who boast the name of Freedom's sons,
And speak of Liberty with burning lips ;
Beware, lest ye should take her name in vain,
And pay your homage at unholy shrines.
Mark well her bearing and majestic tnein,
And be not soon deceived, for there are those
\Vho ape her form, who steal ber holy smile,
And cloak the demon with the serpent's wile.
Freedom is not a sheet of paper where
The cunning pen may tiace so full and fair,
Well rounded passages, high-sounding names,
With graceful stops: that is not Liberty !*
Nor does it breathe in easy flowing speech
Of classic orator, whose ready wit
And well-weighed arguments delight the cars
Of greedy list'ners at the husting's front,
And bear him to the senate. Oil ! not there;
Full well, I ween, that is not Liberty !
Nor in the wnrrioi's proud triumphant shout,
Who comes the hero of a hundred fights,
With trumpet sounding, clad in gorgeous guise.
For every cheer proclaims a comrade's death ;
And widows' sighs join with the bugles' breath.
Look at those blood-staih'd banners can they be,
Or those poor orphans, aught of Liberty ?
Nay, think not thus, hut know that Freedom dwells
In human hearts : there is it's only shrine.
But ere those hearts can know it, they must be
Patient, and meek, and loving pure ere free.
When such as these are many in the land :
When christian charity directs each hand,
To help the needy and protect the poor ;
When the strong man smiles kindly on the weak,
The noble on the peasant ; and when kings
Love justice more than empire, peace than war J
Then and then only are the nations free ;
For truly nought but such is Liberty !
Ed. C. M.
S>

La Liberte n'est pas un placard qu'on lit ia coin de la rue.

Parties a"un crot/ant\

f U4 J
BRIEF NOTICES or THE POETS, PHII.OSOrilERS.&c or THE TAMILS,
Bt S. C. CHimr, Esq.

(Continued.)

13. ifbnika Vasagar, called also Timvatharoorer, a poet, as touch ce!e

brated for his sanctity as for his great teaming, was the son of a brahman,
named Amartiger, and bom at Trivaloor, in the time of Armaria Pavdiyen^
King of Madura. In early life, he was employed as prime minister at tha
Court of the King; but he, however, soon quitted this preferment, and es
tablished himself at Thrvparantvrti, where he founded a temple in honor of
Siva, who appeared there, and communed with him. There is a collection
of hymns of a very superior description called TirmSisagam, which be sang
in praise of his favorite god, and he is moreover noted for his polemical
contests with the Samanas, whom he finally overcame.
14. Adivira Pandiykn, one of the ancient Kings of Madura, who hat
transmitted his name to posterity by his numerous poetical compositions; but
as neither he, nor his cotemporaries have left any record of his personal history,
it is now difficult even to ascertain the time of bis existence. The following
is a list of his works.
I. Xahishaddnm, an epic poem celebrating the adventures of Nalah and
Damayanti, is divided into 23 chapters; and contains 1171 stanzas. 2. Kasi Khndnm, another poem, which treats principally of the legends connected
with the shrine of Stra at Kasi, or Benares, is divided into 100 chapters;
and contains 2529 stanzas. 3. Kokioham, a treatise on the different characters,
qualities and behaviour of women. 4. Vettivitkai, a collection of moral max
ims. 5. Kuruvei Anlidl. There are four poems under this title, each of
which contains 100 stanzas of different metres ia praise of Tirnkariteti, a
Saint place of worst. in in the Carnatic. They were called Antadi or the last
the first, because " the stanzas are so connected with each other, that the
following word, or words, commences with the syllable, with which tha
preceding ended."
Id. ViWputturer. This poet was a native of Saniyoor, in the CoimbatooY
country, and bom of brahman parents, of the Vauhnaea sect. He was
greatly esteemed by the King Karital Chvtrn, by whose desire he undertook
and finished a poetic version of the Slaha Bharai, in SO chapters, containing
4 ,.'* stanzas, which for the sublimity of its language remains almost un
rivalled even to the present day. The installation of Karihal Choten, is dated
SC. Y. 3567 or A. D. 465.
16. Tollappiyer, a celebrated ascetic and grammarian, who was one of tha
twelve pupils of Agattya. He wrote a treatise on the Tamil grammar called
Totkappiya Noel, which, however, from its studied brevity is scarcely
intelligible-.

r 145 ]
17.

Pavannnti, another ascetic and grammarian in the time of Siyn Ranr/an ,

king of Madura, who is chiefly known, as the writer of a Tamil Grammar

entitled A'annwo/, i. e. I.itf ric
tubject under five different
aud Embellishment;

humaniores.

He had proposed to treat of his"

heads, to. Letters, Word's, Matter, Versification

but died before

he could

complete his

design, and

the Nannnol therefore comprises only the two first heads.

1% Amurtaskjaran, (the sea of ne ctar) a poet, of. whose life no particulars
have reached modern times, but who is celebrated as the author of a treatise
designated Kariytu, containing a series of forty-four Sutras or succinct apho
risms in verse, on versification.

This work, however, is considered by some

as very abstruse ; hence the proverb, " Better live by beating Pirigai (a sort
Of drum) than by composing verses after studying Kkrigai."

He flourished some

time after Pavannnti, and was, like him, a Jaina, as he commences his Jworfc
with an invocation to " the god who remains under the shade of the Pinii
ec,f which abounds with fragrant blossoms."
19.

Katchiyapprr.

This poet was a native of Kitu-hi, or Conjeveram, in

the Carnatic and born of brahman parents.

Nono of his compositions has-

been preserved, except a poetical version of the Sianda Parana, which soma
suppose was written about the

fourth

century.

This work contains 10,3:16

stanzas, and as it, particularly troats of the history of Skanda,* is regularly

recited in his temples at the annual festivals, with the observance of a number
of superstitious ceremonies.
20.

Saindtn.

This poet is represented

by himself as having

been born

at Ambel, a small town situate on the banks of the Karcri, in the Carnatic.
His Tamil dictionary under the title of Tivigaram, or the

Sun, is divided

into ten chapters aud contains 2,286 stanzas, in short metre.

He livid in the

age

of the Chblem, whom he has celebrated in

21.

the epigraph of his work.

Kamban, one of the most celebrated poets at the court of the king

Kulatunga
century.

CUokn who reigned at Ureiyoor, towards the close of the ninth

Of his works the principal are a poem, called Br Elupadu, in prai.se

of the agriculture of the Vtlaton, aud a poetical version of the

in seven books, containing

12,016 stanzas, which

Rnmaynam,

he composed under tha

patronage of the wealthy farmer Venncinellar Sadviyar.

It is said that the

kiuit shot him to death with a bow, in a paroxysm of anger, because bo

was iuconsolalile for the loss of his son Jmbiapati, whom his majesty caused
to be empaled for
22.

Otlahuiitcn.

having contrived

to seduce the princess.

This

was

individual

a cotemporary of Kamban, and

(hough a cobbler by descent, his great learning appears to have exalted him
t" the same rank with that poet.

He is reported to have composed several

Vhis, or elegies besides] many panegyrical odes on the king;

them, are in existence at present
The god of War.

f Ucarta longifvlia.

Lin.

but none of

[
23.

U6 }

Pxigalenti, another contemporary of Kamban, who excelled in that kind

of poetry designated Vcnla, which is the most difficult of all.

Be left a poem,

called Nala Venba, in which he has successfully attempted tn abridge the 1171
stanzas (in Virvlum metre) of the 2\Taliisliadam of Adicira Pandiyan in 418.
stanzas (in Venba metre).

This work has acquired for him a lasting fuuie

and is by many esteemed the most beautiful composition in the Tamil language.
24. Mandiila Purwha.

Very little is known concerning him, except that he

was a Jaina prince, " the possessor of the white

elephant," and the author,

Of a Tamil dictionary entitled Sulatnani Nigandu, which is written on a dif

ferent principle from that nf Sainden and serve? to supply its defects.
25. Paranchodi, a Sirica priest and poet, who flourished towards the middle,
of

the

eleventh

century, when

J'ira Pandiyan

was

rciguiug at Madura.

He wrote a poem called Tirurilayadel Pumnamt containing an account of the.

sixty-four miracles of Sundaresicara, the tutelary deity of Madura, as. origi
nally related in the Sanskrit legend, denominated Halasya,

Besides this work,

there is also another under the title of PoltikaU Venba,, treating on the same
subject, but on

a more contracted scale and in the form of hymns addressed

directly to the god himself.

26

Sica Vakkiyar, a most eminent philosopher, known as the author of a trea

tise called after his own name.

It remains uncertain who he was, or where he

lived ; but the following extracts from his work explain the tenets which he held.
Speaking of the nature and attributes of the supreme Being, he says,
" It is not An, it is net Aren, it is not Ayen;
Far beyond the black ((Ac colour of Vishnu) the white (the colour of iSiiii)
or the red {the eohtir of Brahma) soars the everlasting cause;
. It is not great, it is not small, neither is it male, nor female :
Beyond every state of corporeal being it is farther, farther, and farther stiU."--W
Spt aking of the religious rites and forms of worship, he says :
" Formerly how many flowers have I gathered aud scattered,
How many prayers have I repeated in a vain worship?
While yet in the prime of my life, bow much water have I poured out ?
And moreover, how often have I encompassed the holy places of Sica.
This I have left off, for

the wise

who know the true God, the Lord of

heavenly beings,
Believe not the Idul of the temples apparent to the eyes to be God, nor
lift up to it their hands."EIHs.
Speaking of the Vedas, he says:
" Though you read the Vedas without any inaccuracy.
Though you daub yourself all over with holy ashes, God will not. appear j
Melt your mind and mould it unto God; proclaim his truth;
Then shall you reach and behold the immeasurable splendour." Hook,
Speaking of the doctrine of metempsychosis, he says ;

__

147

" Aa milk once drawn cannot again enter the udder, nor] bntter churned
be rccombined with milk;
As sound cannot be produced from a broken chank, nor the life be restored
to fts body ;
As a decayed leaf and a fallen flower cannot be re-united to the parent tree ;
So a man once dead is subject to no future birth."Ellis.
Speaking of the. distinction of caste, he says ;
" What, p wretch, is caste? is not water an accumulation of fluid particles?
Are not the five elements and five senses one ?
Are not the several ornaments for the neck, the breast, and the feet equally gold T
What then is the peculiar quality supposed to result from difference of
caste ?"Ellis.
The era of Sira Vahhyar' existence is variously stated ; but it cannot,
however, be traced earlier than the Mabominedau invasion, as be has alluded
to their religion in the treatise he wrote.
(To be Continued,)

STATISTICS OP PUTLAM.
-ooo-

This district extends along ihe N. VV. Coast of Ceylon, bonnet

ed on the east by Demelepatto and a pan of Nuwerekallawiye,
on the wCSt by the Gulpb of Manar, on the south by Chilaw,
and on the north by the river Modcrgam, which separates it
from Manar. It is about CO miles long, but nowhere more than,
16 wide, and its superficies have been estimated at 357,180 acres.
Anciently it constituted the Province of a Dessave, and under
the sway of the Dutch was governed by an Opperhoofd, who re
sided at Calpentyn, but since the year lb06, it has been
annexed to the Collecloratc of Chilaw, and now forms one of the
tub-divisions of the Western Province.
The pistvict is divided into six pattocs, or divisions, the names
of which, and the population ineach as ascertained by census, uvo
fts follows:
Putlam Pattoo
3,564
Calpentyn Pattoo
... 2,133
Akkara Pattoo or the Peninsula of
Calpentyn
... 6,169
Pomparippo Pntloo,..
684
Kumarawanniyyen Pnttoo
467
Rajewanniyen Pattoo
161
The Births in 1839, were 205, the Marriages 137, and the Deaths 193.
The greater part of lands in this district, if we except the
Peninsula of Culpeutyn, is covered with forest. The soil, how-,

148

J.

e*t, is not iii adapted for cultivation, and might be rendered very
productive, but for the want of inhabitants as well as capital.
The principal produce of the district consists of Cacoannts, which
form the greatest item of its exports. According to a rough,
calculation the number of Cocoanut Trees amounts
In the Putlam Pattoo to about.12,000.
Cnlpcmyn Pattoo, do
200,000 Akkara Pattoo or the Peninsula of Cal
pentyn, do
400,000
Pomparippo Pattoo, do
5,000
Kumarewaniiiyen Pattoo do
300
Rajewanniyea Pattoo, do
00
Palmiras also abound ; but the inhabitants do not derive moth
profit from them. Toba< co and cotton are cultivated, and choya
root and Indigo grow wild in many parts of the district.
Of fruit trees, there is neither jack nor oiange, but their want
is supplied by mango, breadfruit, grapes, plantains, &c. There ate also
sweet potatoes and yams and a great variety oi other vegetables,
useful both for culinaiy purposes and medicine.
Some Cinnamon bushes are found to flourish in the forest of
Manja ikholly
in the Akkara Pattoo, but the balks peeled
from them are however of a very inferior quality.
The cultivation of paddy is chiefly confined to the north and
north-eastern parts of the district, and the quantity raised seldom
exceeds 30,000 bushels
The live stock ronsists of 51 horses, 10,389. horned cattle, 2,223
goats and sheep and 123 asses.
Salt is both manufactured and formed spontaneously, and the
yearly produce of this article may be computed at 250,000 bush
els, but it could be extended to a very large amount i< the de
mand for it were greater,
Calpentyn is the only port in the district, and the value ofgoods which are annually imported is about 5,000 and the
exports to about half that sum, independent of the coasting
trade with Colombo, Jaffna, Trincomalie, &c. &c, which is
also very extensive. The imports consist principally of Rice, Paddy,
Cotton cloth, Curry and Medicinal stuff: and the exports Cocoanuts, Copperalis, Choya Root and Chanks.
The Gulph of Calpentyn is rich in chanks of a very superior
description and also in Bicbo-de-niar and sea moss.
The quantity of dried Fish annually exported from Calpentyn
is about tiOO.OOOtbs. and that of chanks 130,000.
There ore several Roman Catholic, Mohommedan and Hindoo
places of worship in the district, besides a neat Protestant lipis

M I

Copal Church in the town of Calpentyn. The Infter, however, has

no resident or visiting minister appointed to officiate in it and its
congregation is therefore literally left as " sheep without a shep
herd. " The famous Roman Catholic chapel called St. Anne, to
which thousands of pilgrims resort annually from the different parts
of the Island, and the Coromaudal coast is situated at Palakudah
about 10 miles from Calpentyn in a south-west direction.
With regard to education the youth of this district are not
satisfactorily provided for, as there is only one English School at
Calpentyn, and a few native ones in the country.
The inhabitants of this district consist of Burghers, Tamils, Malays,
Moors and Singhalese; life principal place of residence of- the three
former classes is the Town and Peninsula of Calpentyn, where they
-are engaged either in the cultivation of land, or in trade.
The houses are generally low built and thatched, with the excep
tion of the few public buildings at Pullam and Calpentyn and
some private houses in the latter place, which are large, commodious,
and tiled.
The Fort of Pntlam which is bnilt of mud, is garrisoned by a
detachment of the Ceylon Rifles, and the Fort of Calpentyn built
of coral stones in 1646, as appears by the inscriptiou on the gate,
has been converted into a salt depot.
There was before and after the British conquest of the Island, a
Land-raad Court at Calpentyn, which was succeeded by a Magis
trate's Court, and then by a Provincial Court, hut in 1818 tha
Provincial Court was removed to Putlam, and the Magistrate's Court
re-established at Calpentyn. From Putlam the Provincial Court
were to perform circuits to Chilaw, Calpentyn and Manar, but since
1820, when the office of Provincial Judge was united to the Collectorship the Court was removed to Chilaw where the Collector
held his Cutcherry. In 1833 when the judicial sysuniol the Island
was re-modeled, the Magistrate's Court of Calpentyn was abolished
to the great detriment and inconvenience of the merchants
and inhabitants there. The present District Court is held for
six months in the year at Putlam, and the other six months at
Chilaw, and its jurisdiction extends over the whole tract of country
from Kaymel river on the south, to Modergam river on the north,
and from the Gulph of Manar on the west, to the seven Korles
on the east including Demclpatto, being more than 90 miles in
length and about 30 or 35 miles in breadth.
The Commissioner of enquiry, who advised the abolition of
the Magistrate's Court of Calpentyn never visited the place, or
I am sure be would not have thought of recommending a measure
which has proved so injurious to its interest.

F.

fOBTICAL SKETCHES OF THE INTERIOR OF THE ISLAND

OF CEYLON, bt the rev. B. bailey.{Continued.)

XVII.
MOUNTAINS AND PLAINS.
The scene is changed. The lofty 'mountains rise.
And sink in valleys and in pleasant plains;
And Novelty for fancy forges chains.
All is delightful : and the glistening eyes
Wander at will with pleasure and surprize ;
Until the excited spirit scarce sustains
What fills the mind with thought, and what remains
To feed the eager fancy. Deep shade lies,
As you could touch it, in those valleys ; bright.
Resplendent as the sunbeams, arc the brows
Of mountains more remote. Fai as the sight
Can reach, the view with varied colors glows.
It fills the bosom with a new delight
To muse on beauties which this Island sliowsi

XVIIL

JUNGLE.
And is this Jungle ? More majestic trees'
May grow in England's forests. Here the oak
Is not ; nor doth the woodman's ruthless stroke
Fell our fine beeches; Nobler jet than these
Are rarely seen in forest families.
Tall and erect up to the sky they look ;
To bow their lofty beads they cannot brook ;
They stand so thick they bend not to the breeze ;
They clothe with glory every mountain side ;
Their clusters darken in the deepest dell.
Behold these mountain-forests far and wiile
In this vast amphitheatre; they tell
The heart of man to humble his poor pride.
And but to seek and serve his Maker well.

XIX.

VERDURE.

The trees are clad with leaves ofloveliest green !

So many tints arc to the verdure given
It is us various as the bow of heaven.
Some trees are darkly covered ; some are seen
Light as the infant-bud ; while intervene
More graduated hues. Has Nature striven,
Where winter comes not, and where summerlevin
But rarely injures her, to make a scene
Of everlasting summer in this isle,
And to perpetuate every living hue
Of grass, of leaf, of shrub, and of wild flower ?
The flowers are green of leaf, and bright the smile
Ol the lich cup, or bell, on nearer view :
And every green tree is a summer bower.

XX.

ATTABAGAOYA.

This little stream, the first that canght my ear,

Brawled gently on and tunefully, ere seen:
It gave a temper to this wild ravine,
According not with its just character.
The sound of torrents were more fitting here.
The vale on one side seemeth more serene :
But pass this rural bridge ; the road between
Is wildand not without a touch of fear;
The sides of this deep chasm you now ascend,
And trace the mountain pathway. Lift your eyes
To the high hills that vault into the skies ;
Then down the deep ravine, through which you wend.
Attentive look. Be silent and be wise :
And let your thoughts to Heaven for one day tend.

XXI.

GLEN AND WATER-FALLS.

Sweet the repose of this lone mountain glen !

The gloom distresses not,it is not deep ;
The viewless waterfalls invite to sleep ;
I saw not their bright waters until when,
At a dark angle of the silent den,
'T viewed the first fall neither rough nor steep.
It fed the lowet streams that seemed to weep
Their obscure lot. Remoter far from men
Are mightier torrents of this rocky isle :
But when we lean along precipitous rocks.
The face relaxes not with opening smile ;
The mind is serious. The Almighty hand
Flings carelessly around misshapen blocks,'
Mountains of stone,abrupt, and vast, and grand.

XXIL

RELIEF,

Leaving the glorious mountains, this wild plain*

These jungle plants, instead of stately trees,
And woods, and waterfalls/ the fancy please.
It is a calm delight. Until again
I travel by the mountains', and remain
In this rude jungle, it gives present east
To thought o'crstrained,to growing phantasies,
Whose eager pleasure borders upon pain.
"1'is discord to sweet music, a dark cloud
In the bright sky,as a still breathing calmWhen thunders have reverberated loud
Among the echoing mountains. Pause and think,
O man, that human life is not as " balm
To the hurt mind,"but as the torrent's brink

c m )
3CXIH.

ANTIQUITIES

Away with, the dull Antiquary's skill.

To read and write down vainly in a boolf
inscriptions on a rude leaf or a rock !
leave it to the glory of the quill
Plucked from the goose's wing. 1 would be still.
And lone upon these heights, and downward loojf
Into the deep seclusion ol a nook
Where footfall scarce hath been. From every mil
I rather would converse with each rude feature
Of this drear waste of wildness than perform
The mightiest feats of that oa-ith-eaten crea ore,
Who sojourns with the spidei and the worm,
Give me one wild flower, ftom thy breast, dear Natnre J
j would be (hine, though cradled by the storm.

XIV,
FEACOCK MOUNTAIN.

Imagination hovets o'er each work

Of Nature. Thu.8 in sunshine or in storm,
From this high mountains long and outstretched fprn|
A Peacock rises. Tall straight leathers perk
Above the graceful head that like a lork
Is pointed at the summit : aud the tail
And body lorin the lntervenient vale
And swelling of the mountain. Theie doth lurk
At bottom of the rudest peasant's mind
The poetry of nature. A friend'* voice
Js heard by him in every passing wind ;
He hath a dear companion in each hill ;
His native valley makes his heart rejoice ;
Attd happiness hauuls even the smallest rilL

1S4

Poetical Sfcrtvijw, &c. &c.

xx.
The ralley of Attabaga-oya, (oya meant a stream,oaraa a river,) is
truly one of the most rhaiming spots that I have witnessed in any coun
try. In parts, it reminded me of England. Other objects are strictly
Eastern, and characteristic of Ceylon.It is formed by a ravine, which is lb*
singular and peculiar feature of the interior of Ibis island,where every ravine
U a valley, and every valley a ravin*. Through this winds a pretty little
stream, or oya. In some parts it is banked, as it vere, by bold precipiDous
steeps; in others, by rising slopes, gentle declivities, and waving hills;
naturally and irregularly interspersed with trees in the park style,and cover
ed with a verdure as rich and as green as is produced in the West of
England.

XXIV.

This beautiful mountain does really bear more than a fanciful resemblance,
to the Indian bird by whose namo it is distinguished. Not only are the
upright feathers upon the head of the peacock exhibited to the eye by thatall perpendicular trees thinly scattered on the crest of the mountain, but the
body of the mountain, or mountain range, gradually undulating until it almost
disappears and, as it were, melts into the plain, is no obscure likeness of thebody and long and sweeping tail of this noble and beautiful bird of the East
This mountain accompanies the traveller all the way to Rambodde : and it is
a fine object seen through the breaks, and relieving tho dullness and dreait
ness. of the mountain-pass to NuwcraEUia,

133

RECOLLECTIONS
OF A

GOVERNMENT

EMISSARY.

COMPILED BT THE EDITOR.

chap. n.
The government smuggler. Golden news. A night adventure.
Mr. Croker deceived. Doing the Revenue officer. The Prevemtice service. Admiral D'linbaud.
Dckino the Percival Administration I was frequently employed
by Lord Liverpool, thou War Secretary, on secret ageney business.
He was very loud of the espionage system and had a great num
ber of afins in his pay, both at home and abroad. Some of
these were of a singular stamp, but that mattered not, so long as
he got the information he desired, and his terras were such as to
eusure his being well served. I met one of his many empluyes
in the following manner: I had been down to Walmer Castle io
see his Lordship on some of the usual business, and was about
to leave Deal when I observed a post-chaise coming out of an
inn yard, containing a rough, sturdy old man, in a great pilot
coat and glazed hat, puffing away at a long Dutch pipe. Finding
that this was the only available chaise in the place, and that he
was starling for London, I requested Irom him a scat in it, stat
ing my anxiety to reach town on Lord L.'s business. The name
was sufficient for the old tnan, and I soon found myself rolling
along towards the Metropolis at a smart gallop, nearly choked with
the fumes of his Dutch weed.
When he was tired of smoking we chatted and I learnt that he
was a Deal fisherman, alias, smuggler, employed by Lord L. to
bring over foieign newspapers when containing anything of import
ance, for which rather dangerous service he was amply rewarded.
He had, however, another string to his bow, for he never failed
to bting duplicates of the papers, and these he carried on to Lon
don where the " 'limes" gave him a princely price for his news.
lie was now on one of these errands wiih some Dutch papers which
gave important intelligence of the French army, and on arriving
in London, about three in the morning, we drove straight to Print
ing-house Square where we found B .the editor hard at work.
The news was of course most welcome, and all hands were set
upon it. When we had entered a smail diity, cold-looking, inky
room B . shut the door and taking from a huge desk a leather
bag full of guineas, held it open to the smuggler and told Iiini
to " take a dip in bis lucky bag," He did so and when he had
pocketed a good haudlull of the gold coin, was offered another
" dip" which to my surprise he refused, saying that it would do
him no good as he should be sure to spend it foolishly. He was
right. I never kuew more than one of these liberally paid adventurers
who saved any money.

156

This, man though a noted smuggler, had in the prciium fen.

heen employed in the Walcheren expedition to pilot ooe of out
inen-of-war into Flushing. I had been ordered by Mr. Crokerj
ot the Admiiallv, (o engage pilots tor the fleet. It was a dfljcult task, lor about 120 were wanted : I however, succeeded in
engaging a great number ol' Dutch Pilots and Fishermen, and what
were ilien wanting, were made up by Deal and Dover smuggler*
who all knew the coast well. Amongst the many desperate cha
racters I came in contact with, at that time, was the well known
Johnstone whom, t found in the custody of the reveune officers at
Deal. He had been taken in the pievious week running a lot of
lace, had broken away limn his captors, with the contraband goods,
sold them in Loudon, and returned in open day to the scene of Lis
exploits, when he was re-captured. I knew the value of this man
and immediately wrote to Mrd Hawlsesb'ury, Home Secretary, tos
his release, which was at once granted. He proved of great ser
vice in many ways : but his most daring undertaking was that of
lauding in the town of Flushing "at night, guarded as were all the
en nances by the enemy s ships, to gather information from some
of his old contrabandist): friends. The way in which he accomplish
ed this was equally bold and' clever. He had a small boat made
by his own directions, covered over the tup with" waterproof cloth,
in which covering was a small aperture. He gift into this
little I oat, having' his head and arms only above it ; a weight
was placed in it just sufficient "to sink it below the surface of the
water, and yet to leave his mouth above. In this dangerous convey-;
once he passed all the guard' boats of' the' French, paddliug him
self along by means of short sculls which he kept 'below the water,
and landing at a spot well known to him in Lis smuggling expe
ditions, he passed into the suburbs of the town, and after gatheriug
from his old associates all he wished for, relumed in safety to the
admiral's ship,
He did not serve the Admiralty quite so well on another occaion, when, liis riise, though it did hot succeed, might ' have led
so serious consequences : as it was, it only raised a laugh' at the
ttxpence ol the officials. Ministers had devised a 'plan 'to attack
some of the Ametkan ports and ciu, out their shipping,' and Mr.
Croker at once sent to Johnstone forhis assistance.' The smuggler,'
although he know no mure of the American Coast then he did
of the shores of the Indus, readily undertook to pilot the fleet' to
the desired ports, and of course had golden promises in case of*.
success. He was desired to return in two days to meet S
. an
American, who had also o tiered his services, and then when their/,
separate opinions were weighed, the Admiralty would decide as to
which of llieui should be acted upon. Johnstone was not idle : he
sought out S
. got hint into a public-house and treating him,
soon gleaned all the information he wished lor. On the day ap
pointed they both icpaircd to Mr. Cioker, with whom they had,
seperate audiences, and so ably did Johnstone use the hints he
had picked up, that he was actually chosen to conduct the expe
dition. Bctuie the plan was abandoned, however, the disappointed

f llf ]
American encountered his old tavern friend at the Admiralty and
the tiick was discovered, much to the Secrelaiy's annoyance and
mortification.
Old Richards, my fellow-traveller from Deal, had one of the finest
Sea- going boats dn the coast. She would live in all weathers : and
her little fairy torrri might often be seen skimming the billows whon
craft of ten times het tonnage dared not venture out of harbour.
His boat wa$ well known to the king's cutters, and when they could
not go to sea; during heavy weather, he was employed to cany des
patches to hnd from our Minister at the HagUe, tv'd Ostend. As
& recompense fof the risk he incurred, Lord Liverpool gave him a
pass exempting his boat frdm searches, ahd thereby enabling hint
lo do a good deal of business in laces, silks, &c
He used to relate the following trick which he played upon the
fccvenue offi<*ers, with great glee. He Had gone over tb Ostend
With a packet, as usual, ahd had td return in another boat as his
own was compelled tb Undergo some repairs. Not liking however;
to come back without doing a little business, and being obliged to leave!
the pass with his own vessel, which had a Cargo, he devised a plan by
which he put a totenrble profit into his pocket. He got one of
the large leather bagB used for sending over the . government des
patches in, and of which there were plenty at the Consul's office,
and then folding up his lace in parcels about the size, of the letErs, wrapped them in stout paper and sealed them : he filled the
ig with these fictitious despatches, and when it was tied and seal
ed with a consular seal, none but a pnclised eye would have
told the real from the false one. He landed at day-break at Rams-'
gate, the usual, port in, bad weather* and marched his prize offtci
die principal Hotel, where he sat down to a .good breakfast and
ordered a post-chaise to be in readiness Tot London.' While he
was enjoying his mutton chops, the searching officer, who had seen
tim land with two bags and knew his character well, entered the
room and demanded to examine them. Richards,, who knew his,
game and delighted in playing a trick, answered him briefly that
he was on government duty and no one but my Lord L should
lay a finger on the bags ; placing at the same time, a most significant
pair of weapons on the table. The mah of customs still suspicious, but
cautious, declared his intention to accompany him to Dowtring;stfeet
and see all right: the .other replied that -he might follow him if
he could, but he should not go in . his chaise, and immediately or
dered it to be got ready. The officer, still determined, called for
another post-chaise, upon which Richards ordered four horses to his*
Seeing his acquaintance so bold, the searcher began to think that
lie might possibly bo overstepping his duty if he put his threat
into execution, and at length after a little parleying they sat down!
together, finished the mutton chops, and the smuggler-messenger
posted to town in great glee, dropping one bag in Kent-street,
Borough, and the other in Downing-street.
In those days the preventive set vice was in a most disgraceful
state. Scarcely an officer iu it hut had a share in some smuggling

158

boat, tbe consequence of which was 'diet an immense quantity of

contraband goods found their way into the country, to the great
prejudice of fair traders. This evil arose from two causes : from
the service being badly paid, and from the enormous duties levied upon
man v articles of foreign produce. The manner in which these frauds
were connived at was as follows : when the officer uu guard upon any part
of the coast received intimation fiom his smuggling partner that he me
ditated a " run," as it was technically called, upon a certain night, he pre
tended to have intelligence of some job to be doue ten or a dozen
miles away, and accordingly made sail upon the false scent, leav
ing the coast clear for his fiiend. Of course tome prizes weie
taken to lull suspicion, but they were usually of small value, though
mistake would occasionally be made, and the officer lor the sake
of his reputation, be obliged to capture his own property. I re
member a blunder of litis sort once brought a brother of Kit-hards,
into custody, but R . fortunately being at the time on the
point of tearing for Holland with some important despatches, was
cabled to beg his freedom from Lord L- which he obtained,
after some pieiended doubts and difficulties.
Amongst the many French pensioners of England during the
wars with the republic was Adrniial D'lrabaud. He commanded
the Toulon Fleet when captured by the British and it was pretty gene
rally known that he surrendered upon an understanding. The price
of his treachery was 900 a year, but this did not satisfy him
and in the early part of 1803 he was detected in a secret corres
pondence with the First Consul to whom be was furnishing details
ef our Militia Force, Naval and Military Stores, &c. I received
an order from the Secretary of State to arrest and conduct him
out of the kingdom ; we went on board a King's cutter at Gravesend
dining the night, and at day-break set sail for Boulogne. The Ad
miral was a desperate fellow to deal with, and vented his rage in
the most dreadful oaths : he talked of the insult of being deprived of his
arms, and expressed a desire to exchange shots with either myself or
be commander of the cutter, all o( which we of course laughed at. In
the course of the day the wind, which bad been fresh, encreased to
a gale and late at night we were obliged to stand in for Margete.
The Admiral's courage failed him during the storm and the
bully's blustering gave way to tears and sea-sickness. I would not
land my charge in spite of his prayers and supplications to do
to, and the next day at noon we pursued our trip across the chan
nel, and finally landed him more dead than alive at Boulogne. He
was of course patronized by Bonaparte who was just then full of
bis i-tended invasion of England and anxious for information of
any kind ; but D'Imbaud was not to he depended upon, and a few
years afterwards he was sent to the Galleys for life, for tampering
with the Bourbons. He remained there till the restoration when
Louis set him at liberty and gave him some trifling post under
the Minister of the Marine.

159

Cfje oerlanB lioutr.

By thk Rev. J. O. Macvicab.
( Continued.)
ATHENS.
The steam ships by which the French have been extending their
influence in the Levant of lale years, traverse the Mediterranean
in such a way that the Malta^ Constantinople and Alexandria
lines of communication all meet in Syra one of the Islands ot the
Archipelago only twelve hours steaming from the Pyraeus the
port of Alliens. ' For this place also a steamer generally departs on
the arrival of the French steamers at Syra, Athens may therefore
l>e easily visited by the Overland traveller for India. It may not
he wrong to mention, however, that the same facility does not
always exist in favour of the Overland traveller going homewards.
The quarantine which is so generally established by all the Euro
pean powers upon vessels coining from Alexandria often demands
the delay of a week or more in the harbour of Syra or in some other
quarantine station. Still even in the case of quarantine the visit to Athcn*
may be managed without much detention ; and certainly there is tw
ining all the way that is better worth the travellers pains.
Much may be said in favour of Italy and Rome, and yet after all, the
Romans were a people of only one idea that was their own. Bui Greece
Athens how many spirit-stirring associations, how many delightfid contemplations does not the very name awaken ! The decaying
fingers of Tim* have also on the whole dealt gently with Athens.
It does indeed lie in ruins. Vet one may still see the Areopagus
where St. Paul addressed the men ot Athens, the prison where So
crates was confined, the grove, where Plato and the Academy were
immense blocks of marble too which either still lie where they
were laid by their classic builders or strewed about, and which do all but
ntter the name of Pericles. One may also stand on the very spot
where Demosthenes stood while he harangued his countrymen, and
by his individual eloquence roused their patriotism and animated
them with irresistable force. An audience his, how different from
those of modern times and how superior in candour and in intelli
gence ! Thus when the Athenian orator spoke eloquently and conducted
his argument well, his audience not only listened, but admired and
applauded, though they differed from the speaker and refused to be
persuaded by him. And though in more degenerate days, yet when
St. Paul opened his discourse to them in such terms of reproach
as these " ye men of Alliens I perceive that in all things you are
too superstitious," and charged them with ignorance from fiist to
last, still, instead of putting him down or leaving him, some were
eonvinced " and clave to him " and otheis said as they went away
*' we will hear thee again of this matter." This candour in the

1.60

Athenian audiences in listening long and voluntarily to disagreeable

truths and in admiltiug a man to be a great man, and in admiring
him though be maintained the opposite of their views, marks a
state in the popular intellect very different and very superior to any
which exists now, even in tlie most enlightened nations of the west.
In the present day before a public speaker can gain a popular
audience he must be known to be the aovocate of those views only
which aic agreeable to the people, before he can gain an aristociaiic audience he must be known to he the advocate of those views
only which are agreablc to the aristocracy. Instead of beiug open to
conviction with many points still undecided upon, which must even
be the state of every deep -thin king man in every age, the minds
ef the generality now are made up on all subjects human and di
vine. \N h'.n people go to listen to a public speaker it is generally
with no other end, but to be confirmed in their pre-possessions ; and the
great man now-a-duys is generally uo more than the mouth-piece
of his audience, the minor wherein they see themselves pleasingly
reflectedand whom they therefore naturally exalt and admire, as they
would themselves no doubt but for shame. It is indeed true that
every man who is great in his dny must ol necessity be one in
whom the spirit of the times he lives in, is as it were concentra
ted ; it is true that no man however great in himself, or however plcnarily inspired by heaven will attain to fame in his own day un
less he either utter the spirit of bis times, or can manage
somehow to inweave the truths he is iharged with into the spirit
of his timesLei him be even animated by the spirit of the times
which are immediately coming, still, it will only be his dust that will
he honoured, if happily it can be discovered where he died neglected
and was buried, lu spite of all these melancholy fuels however indivi
dual freedom is to a ccitain extent possible. A thoughtlul man
may to a certain extent emancipate himself from the spirit of his
limes, and think for himself, aud investigate the truth of a mat
ter all independently of the public opinion of bis day. And this
power of acquiring individual freedom the ancient Gice-ks appear
to have possessed in a very eminent degree, in so much thai not
in successive eras only but even simultaneously there were politi
cians of all principles, and philosophers of all sects, and popular au
diences who were reaely to go nnel listen to any body who had any
thing to propound to them. Everything intimates in shoit that the (j reeks
were die most cultivated aud spirilucl people that ever existed.
And if we only possessed a full history of their philosophies I be
lieve it would be found that they hud exhausted the science ef
reflection so far as the unaided mind of man is capable but to return.
' On approaching the Pyrscus the eye looks out anxiously for the
gulf of Salamis and the tomb of Themistocles, names pre-eminent
in the naval history of the Athenians. And both are indeed to be
teen, the former suitable to the mind's expectations, but the latter
" no tomb gleaming o'er a cliff high o'er the land" as Byron dcaacribes it, but on the contrary a small questionable structure down
at the very level of the water, the Pjrueus is a very line harbour

161

remarkably similar lioth in its own character and (bat of the surround
ing scenery to some of the harbours indie west Highlands ol Scot*
laud. Many buildings have also been already erected there since the
Constitution ; and it modern Athens ever become a place of impor
tance again the Fyrsus will no doubt be the place where the com
mercial part of the community will chiefly reside. It is distant
from Athens about live miles, and at this day there aie still to be
seen here and there fragments of the long walls which formerly
united the port and the city. On approaching Athens the rye soon
fixes on the Acropolis, although the view of this most noble rock and
citadel is most provokiugly interfered with, by the insignificant mo
nument of Philopappus on the neighbouring hill. Notwithstanding
this however the Acropolis when seen from this road is all
that can be wished and the traveller only longs to be nearer. Nor
lias he to wait long ; for soon after, he finds himself passing
the Temple of Theseus ; and soon alter, he is in Athens. And what
is the implosion which the modern city makes on him who has a
good idea of what the ancient city was ? Nothing can be' poorer or
wore insignificant than modern Athens when viewed in relation to
the ruins which lies around and beneath. It looks like a mere in
crustation or disease of the skin on the giant form of a most
noble city whose ruins are rising up every where. The streets
are dirty and narrow, the houses generally very mean, ui.d the
shops in many of them only one degree better than Cingalese
bazaars. How melancholy it must have been but a lew yeais age
when the mighty dead, whose tombs beautified every rising ground,
and the ruins of whose city around fill the soul of the beholder
with such solemn yet delightful contemplations, hud no other
representatives among the living, except the abject tenants of
that most pitiful Mwn. Hut a new era has opened upon Greece.
Constitutional liberty has been restored. A moiiatchy has been es
tablished. There is public confidence in the state. Men of capital
from other countries are coming to invest it and settle in Greece.
An Athenian begins to fuel himself again to be somebody. Edu
cation is so liberally encouraged by the Government that but of
20,1)00 which is the number of inhabitants of Athens, 2,000 are
-iiow in training either in the university, the Gynasiurn or inferior
schools. And what it is most deliglittul to consider is the fuel that the
clergy of the Greek Church are among the foremost not only to
countenance the spread of knowledge but to avail themselves of
if Neither do they forbid the popular use of the Bible as the
.Romish clergy do. The English and American missionaries are
alio doing much for (he elevation nf the Athenians to a purer
form of Christianity.
In a word Homing appears to be
interfering with the progress of lite nation, but Krissian influ
ence; which indeed way jusdy excite nut a lew anxieties, es
pecially when it is considered that neither the King nor the Queen
lave proved themselves capable of uiuvli. Let us hope however
that King Otho will yet prove himself worthy of the throne of
Greece. '1 be young man is certainly not destitute ol spirit, as the

C lea 1
following anecdote will prove. One of the days we spent in
Greece was the great feslival-mnndav by which the Greek church
usher in lent All the Athenians, and all the peasantry oT the
neighbourhood were assembled in the fields and gardens which he around
the temple of Jopitef Olympios, and there they danced and sang
and played all day, in groups of friends consisting of ftntn ten tit
iweiitv in number. When the lete was at the height the King and
Queen accompanied by several ladies and getllleroen of the court
lode itver the ground, and when passihg one of the happy groups
a fine rooking fellow stepped nut of the circle, aiid with one hand
a kintlw held out to the King as be passed a flask ol win* with the
other. It was trying moment for an unpopular monarch, tt
was known that he was to visit the scene ; and uiight it >ot have beetl
a cup of poison ? However it was no soonci offered than he
laid hold of it, and saying to the giver/' viva" drank it gallantly off.
But let us spend a day among the ruins. And first let us visl*
the Acropolis. It is too painful to be kept off longer by that lofty
Turkish embrazured wall, which surrounds the whole citadel like
a curtain, and permit us to see the beautiful lops merely, of the Propyloes
the F.reclhcium and the Parthenon. Hut in leaving the bote! we may
s well visit the prison ol Socrates and the Areopagus on the
way. The former is an artificial cavern hewn out in the face
of a rock which fronts the Acropolis, and which indeed is so
unlike the place where one expects the philosopher (or rather the
moralist) to have been confined, that one can scaitfely prevent him
self from being visited by tears that Socrates was never there.
Bui indeed how often is it all over with association, if wc venture to look
at evidence in other cases as well as this ? Certain It is how
ever, that one sees a cave in a rock which is pointed out to
the visitor as the prison of Socrates. And if one pleases he may
make enquiries upon the spot. We did so. But it cannot be
said that the result was very satisfactory. At the door of the
cave, when we were there, stood a picturesque old man feeding an
ass, and within, there hung upon a siring the raw skins of three
goats ; and this was all. In these circumstances wc addressed our
selves to the old man and asked him if this was the prisoner of
Socrates But he only grinned at us. Again making a change
in the questioner we asked him in the best modern greek (lot
one of our party could speak it), but he only grinned the mole
and shook his head ; and when we were answering his silence by
much conversation he stooped down and untied his ass and went
off from us ; and several times that we looked back in his
direction, as wc wulked away, we still saw the old ass- keeper gi inning
at us. When standing at the mouth of this prison the Areopa
gus srtetches out before the eye, a rocky round-backed ridge, of
which the highest part approaches so near the Areopagus that it
is separated from it by a narrow ravine only. That is also the
aspect of the gateway into the Acropolis. Let us than walk along
and ascend. The door will be opened for a foreigner at any time
but lest the visiter should carry away any of the relics a cusiodc

163

h always sent along with him. After entering the gate the visi
tor ascends by a tottuous path irregularly walled on both sides,
and strewed beneath with fragments often sculptuicd of snow white marble,
the Parian (which was used for the most exquisite ports) distinguishing
hselffrom the Centelic by its greater transparency and largergiauulaiioiis.
The first object that arrests the eve on asccuding is the Propyls?
er ancient gateway, which has lately been so successfully uncovered
that a distinct idea of its original beauty may be formed ; and truly that
beauty must have been exquisite. The Doric columns which still
temain are at once so beautiful and so noble, so graceful and yet
So manly, that for the moment one wondws why any other order
save the Doric should ever be. imitated in modern times. But yet
beautiful as the Propyls is, it sinks into utter insignificance when
alter walking on about a hundred yards the spectator finds himself
looking up to the columns of the Parthenon. This truly noble
temple even in its ruins is grand beyond comparison or description ;
and all that it has lost in favour of the British museum scarcely
alters its aspect or takes from its general appearance. Its structure
is si) well known that it need not now be described. It may be
remarked, however, that no description or drawing can give any just
idea of its grandeur, or of that peculiar aspect of solidity which im
presses the beholder with the certainly that it had been designed for
eternity, of which indeed it still seems to breathe. But all exquisite
as the tuins of the Parthenon are, who will say they are more
exquisite than those of the Ereetheium which stands by its side.
On gazing at the beautiful Ionic temple which forms part of this
building one is tempted now to question whether the Ionic order
be not after all more beautiful than the Doric. But let him not
compare them as rivals nor think that he will ever decide such a
question on such r theme ; let him but muse while he descends and
till he finds himself gazing on the beautiful Corinthian columns
efthe Temple of Jupiter Olympins, and when there possibly he will
settle the question so far by declaring that the Corinthian is the
most beautiful of all the three. The truth is that all the three are most
beautiM, each has its own features which are all admirable, while
there is not a bad point about any one of them. The Greeks
appear to have exhausted the science of the beautiful in architecture
and sculpture, if not in all the fine arts. So exquisite was the
taste of that people, that they appear to have carried these arts to
a degtee of perfection which cannot be surpassed nor ever equalled
otherwise than by a perfect imitation. In sculpture the moderns
have excelled just in the proportion that they have approximated
the Greek models, and in architecture the same is true excepting
in relation to the Gothic which is a new idea, altogether distinct
from any which the Greeks appear to have worked upon, and which
though very censurable in many points of view is yet singularly pic
turesque, beautiful and ijrand, and worthy of hein^ placed by the
side as a rival in beauty of any thing that is Greek. Theie ate
Gothic buildings in England which though no doubt expressing
quite another idea, are yet at once so venerable, and so noble, that

164

lh< eye wlien viewing them as they stand "Bosom'd in'gb. in

timed tvees" would not turn away from them though the Parihenoa
itself standing on the Acropolis were placed by their side.
lint here let us cut short our criticism and turn for a moment to
the' Greeks themselves. And shall we cot say at once that we
think very much may be expected if not from the present gene
ration, yet certainly from their children ? Now that they begin to
breathe as freemen, and to be instructed in the patriotism and glory
of their forefathers may we not safely expect, that that character/
for timidity and untruth, which they have been so accused of, will
vanish, and something at least better than that of a Turk appear in
its stead. The men even now are certainly a very fine looking
race. Their physical aspect is lull of promise. Why it is that the
women are so interior and indeed so plain that nothing entitled in
any degree to the name of beauty was any where to be seen, was
a problem which perplexed us all.
If there he any thing that will prevent Greece from rising among
the nations it will be the sterility of its soil, a state of things which
seems to apply not only to a great part of Negropont, but also to a
greit part of the Kingdom north of the I>.ihmns. If any thing
could be more wild and desolate-looking than the country round
Cape Matapan with its piratical villages of Suliotes, it is that round
Athens Mount Penteticus and Hymettns, the island of Salamis
and Egina are far more pleasing to the ear than the eye, and except
a wood of stinted olive trees and two or three date palms there are no
trees visible any where within the compass of the horizon. It may
be however that the country looks very different on a summerday.
When we were there, though it was the second of Mareh, it snowed
almost without intermission, and the wind was so peircingly cold
that we could not manage any how or any where to make our
selves comfortably warm. But yet we were in Athens, and the fact
that when we were watching the thinning away of the snow showersit was the Temple of Theseus or the Parthenon, or some other
exquisite ruin that the eye discovered, more than reconciled us to
the weather Ves, there is a cUoriu about Athens which it is in
vain to attempt to describe.

165

Xotr.ts from 35? o int.

Litehaet Novelties. The Cash

mere Shawl ; an eastern romance.
By C. H'kite Esq. A Year's Resi
dence among the Circassians. By D.
A. Lonyworth Esq. Journal of a Re
sidence in Circassia. By J. S. Bell
Esq. The Budget of the Bubble Fa
mily. By Lady Bultcer. The British
Army as it was, is, and ought to he.
By Lirut. to/: J. Cavipbell. The In
dian Revenue System, as it is. By
H. Tvcketl Esq. An account of the
recent persecution of the Jens at Da
mascus. By D. Salomons Esq. The
Last Days of a Condemned : from the
frenoh of Victor Hugo. By Sir B. if.
Fleetwood.
. A German Journal states, that, M.
de Kiegler of Perth has invented a
Machine for composition in printing
which effects an entire revolution in
that art. The Machine which is of
an Octagon form has as many divi
sions as there are letters in the al
phabet, and on pressure the letters fall
out and take their places in the re
quired order. The composition goes
on it is said with such rapidity, that
a single workman can compose the
matter for a large sheet iu less than
an hour and a half. The distribution
of the type when done witb, is said
to be carried on with still greater speed
and facility. A Cylinder is turned,
and the letters are restored in regular
order to the divisions from wliirh they
were taken. It is asserted that a large
sheet and a hull' of type may b".' thus
distributed in one hour. The Journal
from which we take this account buys
that the process has been witnessed
by the University of Perth, and that
the Russian Ambassador at Vienna
having heard of the invention, and
received the particulars of it, immedi
ately ordered u Machine lor the Em
peror Nicolas. We give this extra
ordinary statement as ne find it, and
must wait for further accounts before
we can give entire credit to it, for Ihfl
mode of distribution alluded to sur
prizes us more than the composition.
Something of the kind was attempted
in England a great many years ago,
and completely failed.
The D&buts suites, in allusion to the

new invention at Pesfh, in Hungary,'

for composing and distributing printing- '
types by means of mechanism, that
two Frenchmen have invented a ma
chine for the same purpose, by which,
thoy say they have produced even su
perior results to those which have been'
obtained by the machine at Pesth.Patents for this discovery , says theX)*bals, were applied for in England and
in Franco.
Fate of Pois.There are five,
thousand and twenty three poets in the
United States. Of these, ninety four
are in the states prisons, five hundred
and eleven iu the lunatic asylums, and
two hundred and eighty in the debtors'
prison.
New F. noise op Wah.M. Billot
has invented a machine which discharges
2,000 bulls, of half a pound each, every
minute, or 126,000 per hour without
cessation. Its action may be continued'
or arrested at the will of the party in
charge of it. The discbarge takes place
at four different points, and may be
directed at as many objects, or united
against one. The machine weighs about
851b., and its range is about 3,280
feet; but, if one were constructed ofahout 84ct., its range would be quad
rupled. The use of the machine does
not depend upon gunpowder air, oc
steam, as a motive power.
Lieutenant Janvier, of the French
navy, is said to hove discovered the
meuns of getting up the steam of en
gines with such rapidity, that in ten
minutes from the first lighting of the
fire, and although the water in the
boiler bo quite cold, a vessel may be
set in motion. This is, it is added, In
be accomplished without any additional
apparatus, and very little expense.
Balloons. --The Paris papers give an
account of a remarkable invention, which,
if it bu correctly described, there is no
thing to prevent balloons being at once
adopted iu lieu of oinuibusses. The
experiment of which the papers have
cognizance is the following : a few
days ago, a small group of the learned
and nobhv which included M. Chateau
briand, M. de Tocqueville, the Duo
de Noailles, ondJl. Ampere, were as

.[

166

Scmblcd on the Quaid'Orsay, watching

with great interest, the evolutions of a
ln.it, of singular construction, which
glided up and down the Seine, with
and against wind and stream without
oars or sails, and having as its solo
moveable power, a sort of aerial wheel,
where, in boats hitherto belonging to
this lower earth a sail or steam chim
ney should be. M. Eugene de Fresne,
is the inventor of this apparatus, to
which he gives the name of " Moteur
A tin ospherique."
Overland. A carriage for conveyance
through Egypt has been constructed, under
the direction of Mr. Woghorn, by Messrs.
T. Jones and Co., of Spitalfields, cal
culated to hold six persons, their stores,
water, &c, which lias not tho smallest
portion of wood in its construction.
The framework, the wheels, shafts,
flooring, benches, &c, are all wroughtiron bars, either rial or round, accord
ing to the purpose required ; as, for
instance, tho floor is composed of light
flat bars in two rows, one row runs
parallel to the side of the machine,
and another row lies across them at
right angles; the bars are set at two

inches asunder, which leave the bottom

open like a network, to allow the tem
pt rale air to come up freely, and drive
out the hot air as it generates through
tho top valves. The whole of the body
and roof are. covered with the best sort
of storm staysail canvas) instead of
wooden or leather panelling; the roof
frame is simply that of the lilted wan f-'nit. 1'here are two strong iron shafts
for one horse, but so constructed that
two other horses may be yoked to the
machine all three abreast. One horse
will, it appears, be quite sufficient for
the ordinary work. There are cushion*
placed on the benches which form seats
quite as comfortable as those of any
other coach. The machine is hung on
the centric*!* spring principle, which
discharges the weight from the horse,
and throws it on the wheels this ia
another great advantage in a hot coun
try.
The Oriental Steam Company have
purchased the iron steamer Dahlia, which
is on the point of starting for Egypt
on the Nile, under license of the Pasha,
to convey the East India mail and
passengers through Egypt.

8T&e eatljertr.
Mi!stbei.8T. At the period when
we first became acquainted with the
Anglo Saxons, society was in that state
in which all literature is comprised
under the one characteristic bead of
poetry ; and all literary genius centres
in one person, the minstrel, ho equ
ally composed and sang.
This was
the literature which, in the year 449,
the Saxons brought with them into
our island, and during the first period
of their establishment here, poetry held
a high place both by its comparative
importance and by its own intrinsic
beauties. Life itself, and the language
of life, were in those early ages es
sentially poetic; man lived and acted
according to bis impulses and passi
ons ; he was unacquainted with the
business like movements and feelings
of more civilized existence ; but, when
he was not occupied in imitating the
famous deeds of his foiefathers, he
listened to the words of the miuistrel
who celebrated them. The song in
which the gigantic movements of an
earlier period already clothed in a

traditionary garb of the supernatural

bad been told, was the iuslruoieut to
which his mind owed its culture ; his
very conversation was moulded upon,
it, and even iu the transactions of
the council be spake in poetry. Among
the many examples of the poetic teeling of the Saxons, furnished J;y old
historians, Hede gives us one which
is peculiarly beautiful. When Taulinus preached the doctrines of Christ
before tho Court of King Ednin, one
of his nobles aroso.and said, "Thou
hast seen, O King, when the fire blaz
ed, and the hall was warm, and thou
want seated at the feast amid thy
nobles, whilst the winter storm raged
without, and the snow fell, how some
solitary sparow has flown through,
scarcely entered at one door before
it disappeared by the other. Whilst
it is in the hall it feels not the
storm, but aftar the space of a mo
ment, it returns to wheuce it came,
and thou beholdest it no longer, nor
kuowest where or to what it may be .
exposed. Lucb, as it appears to me,

167 3

is the life of man* short moment

of enjoyment, ami we know not whence
we came, nor whether we are going.
If this new doctrine brings us any
greater certitude of Iho future, I fur
oue vote for its adoption." Literature
and htnqnag* of the Saxons.
The Hand. Voltaire has said that
Newton, with all bis science, knew
not how his ami moved ! So true it
is tii.it all such studies have their
limits. Hut, ns lie acknowledges, there
is a wide difference between the ig
norance of the child or of the peas
ant, and the consciousness of'the phi
losopher that he has arrived at a point
beyond which man's faculties do nut
carry him. Wc may add, is it noth
ing to have the mind awakened to the
many proofs of design in the hand, to
be brought to the conviction tli.it every
thing is orderly and systematic in its
structure, that the most perfect me
chanism, the most minute and curious
apparatus, and sensibilities tho most
delicate and appropriate, are all com
bined in operation that wo may move
the hand ' What the first impulse to
motion is we do not know, nor how
the mind is related to the body ; jet
it is important to know with what ex
traordinary contrivance anil perfection
of workmanship the bodily apparatus
is placed between that internal faculty
which imppls us to use it and lite
exterior world. Bella Bridyewuler Trea
tise.
Gaiety and a light heart, iu all
virtue and decorum, are the best me
dicines for the young, or rather for all.
J who have passed toy lite in dejec
tion and gloomy thoughts, now catch
at enjoyment, como horn what quar
ter it may, and even seek for it. Cri
minal pleasure, indeed, comes from
Satan ; but that which we find in the
society of good and pious men is ap
proved by God. Ride, hunt with your
friends, itmuse yourself in their com
pany.
Solitude and melancholy are
poison. They are deadly to all, but,
above all, to the voung. Luther.
The Heavens at Night. There is
no sight more truly wonderful than a
view of th interminable expanse of
ether at this period, when the sun has
withdrawn his light, and the sky is
spangled with thousands of orbs, that
twinkle throughout this wide and un
bounded range. How exalted must be

our ideas of that Omnipotent who for

med this world, when we consider that
great and measureless as is the view
which we have of his works, yet lhait
in reality, we see but a very small
portion of them. Each star which we
see is not that little dazzling hall of
fire which it appears, hut is itself a
sun, the centre of other worlds like
our own, round which they revolve in
endless infiuity. Philosophers tell tit
that there are some stars placed at
such an immeasurable distance, that
though the light from them has been
travelling since the Creation, it hat
not yet reached the earth. This, con
sidering the velocity with which light
is transmitted, can give us some idea
of tho proportion which this earth heart
to all the works of God.
Opportunities. A Christian cannot
tell in the morning what opportunities
he may have of doing good during
the day ; but if he be a real Christi
an, he can tell that he will try to
keep his heart open, his mind prepa
red, his affections alive to do what
ever may occur in the way of duly.
He will, as it were, stand in the way
to receive the orders of Providence :
doing good is his vocation.Hannah
More.
Mabmage,-^ When young person*
marry, even with the fairest prospects,
they should never fovget that infirmi
ty is inseperably bound up with their
very nature, and that in bearing oue
another's burdens, they fulfil one of
the highest duties of the union. fhid.
Tut 1''ak.m Kit's DaI'ghteb."'1 here's
a world of buxom beauty flourishing
in the shudes of the country. Farm
houses are dangerous places. As you
are thinking only of sheep, or of curds,
you may be suddenly shot through
by a pair of blight eyes, and incited
away in a bewitching smile that you
never dreamt of till the mischief .>
done. In towns, and theatres, mil
thronged assemblies of the rich and
the tilled fair, you are ou your guard ;
you know what you are exposed to,
and put on your breastplates, and pass
through the most deadly onslaught of
beauty safe and sound. 15m iu thus*
sylvan retreats, dreaming of nightin
gales, ttnd heating only the lowing of
oxen, you ure taken by surprise. Out
steps a fair creature, crosses a glade,
leaps a stile; you start, you stand,

168 1

lost in wonder and astontslwd admira

tion ; Tn laic's out jour tablets to
write a sonnet on the return of the
nymphs nit-i dr\ ades to earth, when
up comes. John Tompkins, and says,
'It's only the Fanner's Daughter!*
What! Iv.ve fanners such daughters
now. a days ? Yes; I tell you they
have, such daughters those farm-hou
ses are dangerous places. Let no man
with a poetical iuuigi nation, which is
bat another name for a very tindery
heart, flatter himself with fancies of
Itie culm delights of the couulrv ; with
the serene idea of sitting with the far
mer in his- old fasbioued chimneycorner, and hearing him talk of corn
and mutton of joining him In the
pensive pleasures of a pipe, and brown
jng of October; of listening to the
gossip of the comfortable fanner's wife ;
of the parson and h;> family, of his
sermons and his tenth pig over a
fragrant cup of young hyson, or lapt
jo the delirious luxuries of custards
and whipl creams; in walks a fairy
vision of noudrous witchery, and with
a curtsivy and a smile, of most winn
ing and mysterious magic, takes her
seat just opposite. It is the Farmer's
Daughter ! A lively creature of eigh
teen. Fair as the lily, fresh as May
dew, rosy as the rose itself; graceful
as the peacock perched on the pales
there by the window ; sweet as a posy
of violets and clove gillivers; modest
as early morning, and amiable as your
own imagination of Vestlenioiut, or Ger
trude of Wyoming. You are lost '. It's
all over with you. 1 wouldn't give an
empty filbert, or a frog bitten straw,
berry, for your puuee of ininil, if that
glittering creature be not as pitiful
as she is lair.
And that comes of
going into the country, -out of the
way of vanity and temptation ; and
fancying farm-houses only nice oldfashioned places of old-fashioned con
tentment." Heads of the people.

swiftly advanced towards the breaches 5

while the guard in the trenches, leap
ing out with a loud shout, enveloped
and carried the little outwork of Surt
Roqtie, by which the column attack
ing the castle might have beeu entiladed in Hank. They were discovered,
however, as they reached the crest
of the glacis, by the accidental ex
plosion of a bomb, and its light showed*'
the ramparts crowded with dark figures
and glittering arms, which the next
instant were shrouded in gloom. Still
not a shot was fired on either side
Sileutlv the hay-packs were let down,
the ladders placed to the counterscarp,
and the forlorn hopes and storming
parties descended into the fosse. Five
hundred of the bravest were already
down and approaching the breaches,
when a stream of fire shot upward'
into the heavens, as if the earth tmd
been rent asunder; instantly a crash,,
louder thou, the bursting of a volcano,
was heard in the ditch, and the explosion of hundreds of shells and powder'
barrels blew the men beneath into
atoms. For a moment only the light
division paused on the edge of the
crater ; tin n, with a shout which drowned
even, the roar of the artillery, they
leaped down into the fiery gulf, while,
at the same moment, the fourth di
vision came running up, and poured
over with the like fury.

And now a scene ensued unparalleled,

even iu the long and bloody annals
of the revolutionary war. Boiling with
intrepidity, the British columns came
rushing on ; and, the rear constantly,
urging on tho front, pushed down, no.
one knew how, into the ditch. Num
bers, from keeping too far to tho right,
fell into the part inundated, and wer
drowned ; but the dead bodies rilled
up the ditch and formed a ghastly,
bridge, over which their comrades pass,
ed. others inclining to the left, came
to tlie dry part, and shunned a watery
grave ; but they did so only to fall
Sif-ok or Badajo*. It was inten
ded that the whole points should he into the still more appalling terrors
assailed at once, and ten o'clock was of fire. 1'he space into which both,
the hour assigned for this attack. Hut divisions had now descended, was a
a bomb haiiug burst close to the third ditch of very confined dimensions, with
division, destined for the assault of the enemy's rainpurt in front and both
Hanks ; so that the troops, crowded
tbo castle, and discovered their posi
tion, Picton was obliged to hurry on together in a narrow space at the bot.
the assault; and as the ramparts now torn, were exposed to a cross plunging
streamed out lire in all directions, the fire on every side except the rear, where.
fourth and light divisions could no stood a ravine filled with British sol
longer be roalruiued, but silently and diers, n hose, loud cheers and incessant

169

MioVigh Ineffectual fir* against the pa- attempt ! lite- ponderous beams, thickstudded with sword-blarfes, burred any
fspets rather augmented than dimi
nished the general eon fusion.
The further progress ; the numerous f-pike*
enemy's shouts, also, from the breaches set among the ruins transfixed their
ami walls, were loud and terrible ; and feet ; discharges of grape and musketry,,
the bursting of the shells, the explo- within pistol-shot on their Hank, tor*
aiou of the powder barrels, tl>e heavy down their rankfi; aud even the des
peration of the rear, who strove to
crash ol the descending logs, the con
force the front forward, in order to
tinued stream of fire from the ram
parts, the roaring of the guns from raske a bridge of their writhing bodies,
either flniik, and distant thunder of failed in shaking the steady girdle of
the parallel batteries, which still threw steel. Some eveu strove to make their
howitzers on the breaches, formed a way under it, and having forced their
beads through, had their brains beat
scene of matchless sublimity and hor
ror. Still, even in this awful situation, ont by the but-ends of the enemy's
the gallantry of the officers and the muskets. Never since the invention of
devotion of the men prompted them fire arms had such a slaughter taken
to the most heroic efforts ; the loud place in so narrow a space : for tw
shouts of defiance by the enemy were hours the men continued in that living
answered by vehement cheers even grave, disdaining to retreat, unable t
advance; thnt it was not till two-thoufrom dying lips, and roused the En
glish to maddened effort ; again and saud had fallen in this scene of hor.
again bands of daring leaders, followed ror, that by Wellington's order* they
by the bravest af their followers, rushed retired to re-form for a second assault.
up tho breaches, and, despite every Alison's H'ulotu of Europe.
obstacle, reached the summits. Tain

3Ejrtract from ptrCotttcalf*.

Enthusiasts, fanatics, spiritual des

pots, sciolists in education the pas
tors who slumber within the fold, aud
the robbers who spoil it, form a con
federacy, the assailiint of which should
be encouraged by the gratitude of ull
good men. If the soul of William
C'owper has transmigrated into any
human frame, it is that of the histo
rian of Enthusiasm. Not, indeed, that
the poet has found a successor in the
magic art of establishing a personal
and affectionate intimacy between him
self and his renders. There is no
new fireside like that of Olney round
which we can gather; nor any walks
like those of WestoD Underwood, of
which we are the companions; nor a
heart at once broken and playful,
whose sorrows and amusements are
our own; nor are we surrounded by
family group, with tame bares,
spaniels, birdcages, and knitting-need
les, as familiar to us as those of our
ewn boyhood, and almost as dear,
each in turn reflecting the geutle,
thoughtful, elevated mind of him to

whom they belonged, in all its vicis

situdes of despondency au.l hope, of
grave wisdom, and of a mirth as light
and pnre as lhat of infancy. This i*
the high prerogative of genius, ad.
dressing mankind at larje through
the Tentacular idiom of one land in
the universal language of all. Hut
Stanford Rivers, the dwelling place of
the anonymous writer of these volumes, has given birth to a succession
of etforta to exult the national charac
ter, which might tie with those of
Olney and of Weston in piety and
earnestness, in genuine freedom, of
thought, in the relish for domestic
pleasures, and for all the innocent
delights of life, in the filial love of
God, and the brotherly love of man.
There is in Christianity an ex.
pausive power, sometimes repressed
but never destroyed; and that latent
energy he strives to draw forth into
life and action. Those mysteries which
shroud the condition and the prospects
of our race, however inscrutable to the
slaves vf appetite, are not absolutely

1?0 J

impervious to * soul purified by deThe impression being obtsined en

this prepared paper, is to be trans
Toat contemplation; and to these em
pyreal htri-nu be aspires at once to ferred in the usual way to a srarota
point and to lead the war. Tn him plate of 2i nc. When the xinc has re
whose Coot is firmly planted on the ceived the transferred in-.pression, it
is to be covered with an infusion of
eternal verities of Heaven, there be
nut-galls, in the proportion of one
long motives of such force, and a cou
rage so undaunted, as should burst ounce of galls to hatf a pint of water,
through all resistance ; and he calls the mixture to be then simmered for
10 minutes in any vessel not of iron.
en those who enjoy this high privi
lege to assert their native supremacy The liquor is to be left on the plate
for from five to 10 minutes, its effect
above the sordid ambition, the frivo
lities, and the virulence of the lower being to neutralise the alkali of the
transfer ink, and thus to harden it
world. The voice thus raised in ex
and prevent it from spreading when
postulation will did away, not unheed
sponged
with water previous to printing
ed by the interior circle he addres
from it. Mech'itiicti Mnt/azUiC.
ses, nor unblessed by a meet recom
pense; but unrewarded, we fear, by
Remarks oit a fre*ch roah. No
the accomplishment of these exalted
hedges, nodiviilcV. fiel >s. /oratllcgmzing;
purposes. The Edinburgh Berietr.
women doing farm labour; horse talk
The first part of the process con
ed to, and reasoning with, instead of
sists in taking an impression from the being bouteii. If a peasant wonts to
copperplate in the usual way, but with get on a little faster, be descends from
a peculiar ink, on transfer paper pe
his roiilaf/e, and runs on before the
culiarly prepared.
horse, who immediately sets off after
TBAXSrERS FROM COPPERPLATE TO ZIVC
him. No comfortable looking houses,
OR stone.The composition of this ink, to which you may suppose Mr. Jenkins,
which he calls chemical ink, is as fol
Mr. Smith, or Mr. Higginbotham to
lows :
have retired, after a life spent in busi
3 oz. of shell lac ;
ness.
No nice little gardens, with
1 mastich ;
monthly -roses, bee-hives, cabbages, ouinH yellow bees' wat ;
beds, in front of the poor man's cottage;
i tallow ;
no wall flowers near the door, nor tuft
4 bard curd soap, and lampblack
of honselcekover.it; nor little patches
enough to colour it.
of sweet-w-illiam, nasturtium, strawberry
The above ingredients are to be
plants, currant and gooseberry bushes.
mixed together most intimately, and
Thinks I to myself, 'You may grum
are then to be burnt in a pipkin for
ble at home, my boys ; but you would
10 minutes, stirring the mass care
bo sorry to change with your own
fully all the time.
The residue by
class in France, that is, as far as I
exposure to the air becomes dump ; so
saw of it. Lord bless me !' thought t,
that by pounding it in a mortar it
' when you come to see a real French
concretes into a paste of a very stiff
village, and compare it with a seen*
consistence, and in this state is called
representing one nt a London theatre,
by Mr. Redman, hard ink.
and then a staoe rural ballet crossed
tine part of this hard ink, nibbed my imagination scene; a beautiful wood
and ground with two parts of common ed country in France, with a cottage
stiff lithographic ink, forms the trans on one side: lively music: M. Gilbert
fer ink; which being applied to the comes on as a peasant, in a blue satie
surfaco of an engraved copperplate in jacket with silk sleeves, tight white
the usual way, gives an accurate im breeches, and silk stockings, which prove
that he has not been to plough that
pression to prepared transfer paper.
The latter is prepared us follows : morning, at any rule, he taps at the
One quarter of a pound of the best cottage door, and Miss Unllin looks out
flour is to be mixed with common at the window, and, although it is just
porter, in such proportion that it shall sunrise, she is up and dressed, with
form, by boilinn, a thin paste of a flowers in her huir, with a close-fitting
perfectly uniform consistence f which velvet bodice, and gauze petticoat made
paste is to be laid quite evenly on very full, and quito enough hutlle to
tho smooth surface of a sheet of In
keep up the interest of the ballet. He
dia paper, and is to be dried gradually. lifts up his leg as high as he possibly

171

CM, and asks her to be so obliging

is to comr down and dance with him.
She says slu' has no particular objec
tion, anil leaves the window to desctnd
(ho stairs, or ladder, which loads to
her cock-loft. The swain now gathers
a nosegay, all ready tied up; twirls
round several times-, to sec that he
is all right; hears the door of the
cottage opening, trips across to give
his bouquet to his love, when it is
snatched by Miss lUUm's mother (Ma
dame Simon, or old Barnes), who re
prehends the conduct of Mr. Gilbert
for coming a-cotirting at that time of
day, tells him to go and work for hts
hnad, a1.! 1 not be idling about there.
The rustic swnin asks the old lady
to feel how terribly his heart beats;
the mother informs Mr. Gilbert, that
bis heal is more likely to feel tho
'beating.

mislaid her white silk - shoes, and is

obliged to venture out in black pru
nella, thereby disarranging the uuilormity which is so pleasing in wellregulated hamlets,) coine now to the
rendezvous.
Kach youthful swain in
a moment selects his partner,and
sweet is the love that meets return-!
Then all the sixteen points simultane
ously to the cottage, and then touch
their hearts and wedding-ring fingers,
and then point tc Mr. Gilbert, who shrugs
his shoulders, extends his arms widely,
and nods. At this period Miss Ballin
runs from the cottage-door; Mr. Gilbert
is approaching her, when she pretends
to be bashful before so many witnesses ;
so, to hide her blushes, she fetches a
spinning wheel from ihe cottage, which
will not, and never would revolve. Mr.
Gilbert, not liking this move, gently
leads the spinster forward, and asks
her to take a little dance with him.
"Says he, " at my heart I've a heating ;'
A pns <fr rfritx is performed, the main
Says 1, -tUeu take one at your back. *'
point of which is to show that a villager
Kenny.
may have very elegantly shaped legs.
She drives him off, and then goes to When this is over, the sixteen make
market, this market bclug, in all pro- a bungling sort of shuffling, forming a
liability, further than that of Covent good contrast with the principals. Just
Garden, and, the cat away, the young at the very nick of time three more
folks intend (like the mice) to have young ladies arrive, rather over-dressed
gome play. So Mr. Gildert re-appears, for the inhnhiunts of a French villago
and clapping his hands, eight of bis (Ihe con/plilex). Misses Froun. Lane, and
young companions, Messieurs Heath, Hall. They do uot take the slightest
Sutton, Conway, Burdett, Jones. North- notice of their assembled friends, but
orcr, Hartland, and Simpson appear. immediately begin, to dance with their
All these are in such an independent hacks turned towards them, which is
Mate in happy France, that they are certainly anything but genteel behavi
enabled to quit their village toil; and our.
But what can you expect from
the most singular circumstance is, that rustics?
At the conclusion of this,
all eight are accidentally attired ex
the old lady returns from market, and
actly alike, with pink vests, straw hats, is naturally surprised and angry to find
and light blue smalls, with a black the young people kicking their heels
Stripe down the seam. (Of these youths about, instead of being at labour. After
the first named is about sixty years some threatening, and much entreaty,
f age, and the latter approaching seven
she forgives the enamoured pair; and
ty-three, which renders it tho more Mr. Boulanger arrives most opportu
bind of them to come out and fatigue nely, as the baillic of the village, joins
themselves at that time in the morning.) the hands of Ihe youthful couple, who
But there appears an excellent reason then dante a matrimonial pox de deux
for thi-s complaisance, because eight without a single faux pns, and this sets
young female villagers also dressed alike, the whole party off in a pas-genefalc
(excepting _one unfortunate, who has Bentlcy's Miscellany.

172

REGISTER Or WEATHER AT M ADAWELLATENNB

FOR OCTOBER IftJAf.

1 Thermometc

ISo'l
Oct. i>\.Mclock6r.:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
lo
11
12
13
11
16
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
ill
27
2K
2'.:

SO
yi

7;)
70
71
73
72
;7I
71
<J7
71
7(1
73
72
71
73
71

3
173

bo
G8
l)K
70
70
70
72
72
71
73
0
69
70
70

80
82
82
83
81
83
82

Si
76
7(i
7fi
76
76
76
71*
7!>
80
80
hi
VJ
77
70
77
7.}
7.i

P9

71
73
711

71
72
70
:7i
73
73
7:;
7:1
73
73
71
i7-t

73
73
70
7.J
72
71
73
71
73
71
71
71
73

71

|84

75 | 20

67

70

71

78i 73

4
0
0
o
0
16
5
I
0
1

no
ij
10
80
13
60
7o
0
l
12
-1
0
3.i
10
21
12
55
56

111
52
o
31

The weather in the ear.

ly
purl of thu iniiUth
being very hot, pm a toRemarks.
tdl Stop to ail a,;lH'Ill
turul operations, the work
being entirely confined lo
Hot & Dry brisk wind weeding; the only occurDo.
Do.
rence worth remarking
Do.
Do.
was the appenrunco of a
Do.
Do.
legi a ul Caterpillars, which,
Do. distant thunder it is supposed were pro
)o. slight shower thuu. duced by the unusual dry
Do.
Do.
ness of the season; they
Do.
Do.
seemed to huve a most
Hot&dry:rloiidyat inte. peculiar penchant for theSul.uoou then hruv. raiu young Coffee, eating th
Fine showers
young leaves, and quitaShowery &. Cloudy
spoiling thu luxuriant ap
pearance ol the Plant lor
Fine rains
1>,i.
a limn; th-.-y appeared to
Do.
Do.
have been bred on a tree
Do.
II".
Do.
called by the natives "u>Do.
Do.
duma," the ruins which
Hot X dry showr. night again set in about theDo.
Do.
middle of the month swept
Dm.
Doi thcra off, and gave a
II".
Do.
great impulse lo the growth.
Do.
Do.
' of the Ccflee which preOoudv&rshower at night vents a most luxuri.uit
Do.
Do.
, appearance; the PluviomeHeavy Hutu
] u;r shows a total of 20
Do.
Do
! Inches and 31 Cents of
Do.
Do.
' water, which is a very.
Do. Do. tremeu. rain fair-average; on the 28ttt
Do.
Do.
there occulted a tiemenliotduringdav raiuuight duns fall of lain, of which
vVarui day; clou. miliar. I inches and 41 cents tell
in l{ hour, a quantity I
Maximum of Thermo, think unprecedented, in so
! short a space of time ;
Minimum Do.
the consequences may he
i imagined, us the streams
Average
] instantly swelled into ra

pid torrents sweeping aw-ay a number of Paddy fields, and cutting up the roads
dreadfully, its full liny seems lo have burst over aladuvvelleteuiie, us nothing
liko the fall occurred either in Kandy, or at Korucgal on the other side, the
seed Coilee nurseries were totally washed away, hut no other damage wa3
lone to the plantations here beyond the paths being cut up very considerably ;
the rain seems fairly from the S. YV. even so lute in the season, and we may
expect heavy weather when the N. i.. monsoon fairly sets in.
KOllltK GAM.A.
P. S. I may remark en passant that the quantity of rain which is mea
sured, is taken iu a Plain about Ij miie from the Plantations which run up
thu sides of high hills, which bills naturally attract more raiu than the Plain
does, and I constantly see rain on and about the hills when my Pluviometer
does fnot receive a drop, I do not think 1 "am |li.r from correct when I
stair that a Pluviometer would receive one third more raiu on the PiuuUliotr
than il does iu its present position.

173

METEOROLOGICAL JOURNAL KEPT ON THE HUNASGIRIA

RANGE OF MOUNTAINS, AT AN ELEVATION OF
NEARLY 3,000 FEET.
Range of
Ther: at
op. in
3p,i r

Rain Fall
of
ill
1 liches dew

Prevail
ing
Winds.

PREVAILING WEATHER.

Ort.
8. 17 6

lien
yS. Heavy rain With sqnalla day and night.
69^ 66<?' 1,050 V}. S.W.by

S. ltd 64
M.I!' Ill

70

67

6s)

67

T.20 64

70

66

Do.

Do.

Fine dry day and night, light breeze.

w.2l 65

70

66

Do.

Do.

Fine dry and clear day and night.

1.22 64

71

67

Do.

. 23 64
8. 241 64

70

66

-,080 Do.

S.W.

70

66

-,070 Do.

Do.

Do. Weather, light breeze.

Do.

Do.

Fine dry day, light showers p.m.

Heavy rain, & cloudy day and night

Do.

s.w.

Fine & cloudy day, showers during night,

-,075 Do. S.W.by S. Light showers a.m. fine night.

Do.

Do. Weather, moderate breeze.

Fine clear day; showers during night.

S.25 64

70 ' 66 i

ii. 6 64

68 , 65 ' 1, Do.

Var,

!)<,.

S.W.

Fine dry awl clear, day and night.

Var.

Heavy rain, with squally night.

!Fine and cloudy

t. 27 64 | 70 ' 68
W.28 64

69 : 67

,800 Do.

T.2(i 64

70

67,

Do.

S.W.

t. 30 (54

70

(17

Do.

Do.

Rain and cloudy with light wind.

9.31 64

70

67

Do.

Do.

Fine clear duy, light shower p.m.

70

68 ! -,010 ;Do.

a.m. showery night

Nov.
8. 1 64
v. 2 64

0 , 68

I. 3 64 ' 69

67

-,250 Do.
1.

Do.

w.s.w.
Var.

Fine dry day, heavy rain during night.

Do. Weather with strong variable, wiud.

N.N.W. Fine duy, heavy rain during night.

w 4 64

70 ! 68

-,200 Do.

t. 51 64

fit)

1,075 Do.

North. Heavy rain day and night.

r. (1 65

71'

7 61

69

-,250 Do.
-,300 I Do.

N.N.E.

S. 8 64

70

-,250 iDo

Do.

SI fi4

69

-.2.50 Do.

Do.

69

-.750 1),..

f.

T. 10 61
W. ii 64

Do.

Do.

Do. Weather with strong breeze.

Fine dry day, heavy shiiwersduringnight.

Do. Weather with strong breeze.
Fine dry day, heavy rain during night.
Do. Weather with strong wind.

N.hyE. Fine day, heavy rain P.M.

Heavy ruin da\ and night.

69

I, I),..

Var.

T. 12 64 i 68

I, Do.

Do.

Do. Weather with hard squalls.

r. lb 64 | 67

1,250 Do.

Do.

Heavy ruin with frequent squulls.

8. 14 61 ! 69

-,150 Do.

G8

-,150 Do.

J.. 1.7 64

N.N.E. Fine a.m. showery r.M. & night.

Vur.

Do. Weather with strong breeze.

_JJ5U
Mas: 71
Miii; 63

Var:

W.A.

*74

REGISTER OF WEATHER ON THE HANTENNE ESTATE FOR

OCTOBER,-

NOVEMBER 1840.

REMARKS.
October. I a. m.

M.

P. M.

Slate of Weather.

The weather on Ibis

68a Shower; throughout estate has been very
67 o
7216
68
68
do.
17
do.
66
changeable thro ughout
68
72
68
Cloudy thrniighout the mouth, as the ac
18
70
68
60
companying table will
19
Light Showers
68
70
74
sho w : nevertheless il
20
do.
do.
has proved very favorable.
70
76
70
21
Fine throughout
70
70
74
to the young plants which
do.
do.
24
70
71
68
i
Cloudy throughout 'are putting forth their fo68
74
Fine throughout lliage in the greatest lux
70
84
72
68
68
do.
do.
uriance and thereby lria2.>
70
26
74
70
Light Showers
Jiing our newly planted
70
68
66
iilaud
look rather more lik*
27
^ldy. p. m. heavy, ra
do.
do.
70
68
68
28
a Coffee Estate then it
70
66
did a few weeks ago. Du
68
29
do
do.
72
68
68
30
Fins alternately ring the lost few days w
74
68
have had smart breezes
31
68
do.
do.
from the N. E. whicll
November.
foretell a coming change68
70
70
in the weather. The grea
1
Fine throughout
74
68
ter number of the adjoins
68
do.
do.
2
70
68
8
66 cldy. & very heay raining estates have nearly
70
4
70
cldy.Sc fine alternate completed the gathering
68
68
do. do. do.
of their crops : the trees
72
72
5
70
71
*
70
Fine throughout
appear already to feel
7
68
70
very lieavy ralu
the beneficial effects of
6*)
70
68
8
do. do. do.
the gathering, and many
72
Light
showers
that were previously look68
74
9
68
do.
do.
do.
ing very indifferently from
10
68
68
70
68
very heavy rain the heavy crops on them
08
70
11
68
68
do. do. do.
are beginning to throw
72
12
70
66
Cloudy, shower.
out new wood. Placing
67
13
08 heavy rain throughout out young plants & clear67
II
70
do. do. do.
ing weedy ground has
68
15
07 I
70
l>eert the chief occupation of the month, when the weather permitted: the lat
ter is of especial importance previously to the fine weather setting in. There is
no lack of labor up hero, for the coolies are well aware of the good health
of the bill-estates : not the least sign of sickness with us.
1

175

blARY KEPT IN THE VALE OF DOOMBERANEAR KANDY.

1840FROM OCTOBER 17th TO 24th.

The mornings during thin week have been fine and bright. Hot in the mid
dle of the day, but cloudy generally in the afternoons ending the last two
days in moderate raltis, accompanied with inuch lightning and thunder
Gentle breezes from the N. E. during eu'ry day this week for the first time and
calm in tho evenings with a moderate quality of dew every night. Average
of Thermometer 73 C u. m. 7!)" 8 p. hi. 75* 8 ]>. m.
Operations.On account of tile ground still remaining soft from the late rains,
opening holes aiid even planting has been going on, but the chief operation
has been the most important oue of gathering the crop on the Estates in bearing.
From October 24th to 3Ut.
". Misty and cloudy weather with heavy saturating rains nearly every evening
and night. Wind variable but the days have generally been calm and close
Thermometer nverago 71" 6 4.111. 75 2 p.m. "i'6* K p.m.
Operation:!. l'lauling all the week and supplying with plant* those parts of
the Estates which have foiled, &c. Picking Coffee has been the chief occupa
tion as last week.
Fnosi Ocronra 31st to Novf.miieh 7tii.
1

Calm fair mornings, but daily heavy contl. rain1; mostly comine on towards
the afternoon. Wind variable, but it has been generally calm. Thermometer
average 71* 6 a. m. 7fi 2 p. 111. 72" 8 p. m.
Operations. From the constant rainy weather, getting in the crop is a most
arduous work, for after pulping the Coffee and washing it in the parchment skin,
it requires to be dried by the sun as soon aftr as possible, and during this
aenson it can only bo exposed for this purpose in the mornings, the planter is
constantly on trie look'-out for the first appearance of rnin coming, in order to
get it housed in tinio, which is not always an easy task when ' there is ally
quantity, and sometimes he sees what has cost him some days to get in a
fair way for drying, drenched in an instant.
Fbom November 7th to The 14th.
Cloudy with sometimes a little sunshine during the day but constant showers,
&c. heavy ninsoccuring every evening and lasting during the night accompanied
with strong winds frota the S. W. average ofj'I ber'niometer 70. 6. s. si. 73. 2. p. M.
71. 8. p. it.
Operations. Planting, whenever the weather is fair enough to admit of it, besides
other work, but on the estates here all are chiefly employed picking the Coffee
as fast as possible, as this constant showery weather brings on the fruit
rapidly to what is called a state of dead ripening. Every thing here conti
nues in r. very favourable state the trees look exceedingly well arid are fast
getting stripped of thefr berries'; from the fine rains occurring during this seaSon of gathering it speaks well for next". year's crop, as the trees soon recover
from the state of exhaustion caused by their heavy bearing.
Health. In this respect the Estates here continue improving rapidly and
o hope soon to be free from all sickness.
B. D.

ERRATA.

Page 121, Une 2, for " Quie" read "CAe"

)> 123, 1, for " Balduchino" read " Batdacthino"
124, 7, for " Guarda di nobili " read " Guardia di nobili."
l>
97, 22, for "eimlS' read "would."
99, column 1, line SI, for " Cabinet teli " Calmel's."

2, line 31, for " pavements" read "fragments."

99,

line 40, for " Captain Gameyne" read " Captain- Gatcoyhe.'

line 43, for " The part" read " the fact."
Page 123, line 29, for "Basili" read Basilicas."
Page 101, Stanza XI. Read the first lines as follows:*
" Strange to the ear the oriental name
Of this fair river. Winding serpentine
The Kandian capitol it doth entwine,
And sleepeth qniet in the sun's bright beam.
O'er bare rocks roll the waters of the stream,
Which with their ronghness the dashed wave refine
And purify."
Page 104, Stanza XVI,line 9, for " overhanging" read "morning?

COLOMBO:

JbAsted at the seraid iriSs.

Wjt

CEYLON MAGAZINE
No. V.

jANtJAKT, 1841.

Vol. I.

THE READER.

No. V.
mil ton's paradise regained.

In verbis tenuis, cautusque sere^i'lis,

Hoc amet, hoc spernat prnmissi carniinus tractor.
IJorat : Dt Arte Poetica, 45.
Would you to fame a promised work produce,
Be delicate and cautious in the use
.And choice of words. Francis.

In discnssjng the character and merits of Paradis* Regained, it

is -scarcely possible not to refer, and that frequently, to Paradise
J,ost. On this mighty production of genius the smaller, but not
less perfect ptiem may be said to be as on ulleudant star; as
the moon upon the earth," which else
Night would invade; bat there the neighbouring moon,
So call that opposite fair star, her aid
Timely interposes."
Par. Lost. Ill 726.

Milton himself was apparently of this opinion after the produo

tion of his greater poem of Paradise ljosl. The origin, howevrr,
of Paradise Regained is attributed to the suggestion of Ellwood, the
the quaker, to whom Milton lent bis Paradise Lost in manuscript.
"I pleasantly said to him," says Ellwood, "Thou hast said much
of Paradise Lost, but what hast thou to say of Paradise Found ?"
"On this hint he spake." Paradise Regained was marvellously, uud
almost as it were instautaneuusly, produced.

[ m ]
Nor is the lnstre of Paradise Regained at all diminished by
the superior splendor of tbe iniubtier orb of Milton's genius. Tbe light
of bulb is " light Iron) beaven." " 1 am at a loss to guess,
says n admirable judge of tbe question,* " what there is of ex
cellence wanting in this poem." -We have already examined its
Litflicr claims to our admiration, and to that species of immortality
which tbe loltier creations of genius demand from the successive
gem-rations of mankind. We will now descend to the peculiar beauty
and propriety of the strife
As, we have seen, action and mystery are the elements of Para
dise Lost, so moral wisdom,
" With her best none, Coktemfutjo*,"
is to he1 found, as in her "sweet retired solitude," in the calm and
beautiful po-in of Paradise Regained. There is a sublime dignity in pro
found contemplation. The fertility and depth of thought, and the superi
or elevation of feeling demand fewer words. But ihose words should be
select and faultless. ~ The manner should be dignified to a degree
of nwe. It is so in Milton. What ran be finer than the pregnant
conciseness which is truly sublime, of our Lord's replies to some of
Satan's most e'nhoratelv" artful speeches? What more dignified
and mere awful than the calm self possession of his answer to the
taunt of Satan when be set him on " the highest pinnacle" of the
temple ?
* Also it is written
.* Temnt not the 1-nrd thv God he satd ; and stond."
The remainder of this passage is so spirited ; it shews such exquisite art
in the poet, bv the rapid transition from llie nervous and com
pressed style in which he describes ihe sublime and composed at
titude of "Jesus, to the violent fall of tbe arch-aposlnte spirit ; and
it exhibits so happv a sprrimen of tin- style ol Paradise "Lost, ap
propriate to the action of the scene, that T cannot better illustrate
my theory than by a transcription of the following.
" But Salan smitten with imnifmrat fell.
As when earth's on Antaeus, to compare
Small things wiih greatest, m Trassa strove
With .lore's Alcide*, and oft foil'd still rose,
Receiving from his mother earth new strength,
Fresh from his fell, end 6ercer grapple join'd,
Throitled at length in th' air, esplr'd and fell;
So efler manv a foil the tempter proud,
Renewing fresh assaults, amidst his pride
Fell whence he stood to see his vietor fall.
And s that Thehcm monster that propos'd
Her riddle, and him who solv'd it not, devonr'd,

Sir Egertno Brvdgos.

[178 ]

That one* found out and solv'd, for' grief and spiteCast herself headlong from th' Ismenian steep;
So struck with dread and anguish fell the fiend,
And to his crew that sat consulting, brought
' '
Joyless triumphals of his hop'd success,
Ruin, and desperation, and dismay,
Who durst so proudly tempt the Son of God,
So Satan fell; and straight a fiery glob*
Of augels on full sail of wing flew nigh,
Who on their plumy vans receiv'd him soft
From his uneasy station, and upbore
As on a floating couch through the blithe air,
Then in a flow'ry valley set him down
On a green bank, and set before him spread
A table of celestial food, divine,
Ambrosial fruits, fetch 'd from the tree of life,
And from the fount of life ambrosial drink,
That soon refresh'd him wearied, and repair'd
What hunger, if aught hunger had iuipair'd
Or thirst; and, as he fed, angelic quires
.
Sung heav'nly anthems of his victory
Over temptation and the tempter proud."
Paradise Regained. B. 4, 560595.
The parallel passage of Paradise Lost, descriptive of the more
terrible fall of Satan from heaven, noble as it is, is scarcely if at
all finer, though the action is more dreadful and sublime, thau
these magnificent lines.
" Hi.in the Almighty Power
Hurled headlong fluming from the ethereal sky,
With hideous ruin and combustion, down
To bottomless perdition ; there to dwell
In adamantine chains and penal fire,
Who durst defy the Omnipotent to arms."
Pat : Lost B. 1. 44.
Is the above cited passage from Paradise Regained " composed
in a lower and less striking style" than any single passage uf Pa
radise Lost ? Surely not. Here is no decay ol the poet's " faculty
divine," nor is there " wanting the accomplishment l verse," which
were displayed in his best and most vigorous days. In harmony
of numbers, in sublimity of thought, and in beanty of diction, it
stands unrivalled by, at least not interior to, tiny breathing of
bis own celestial lyre. His classical allusions to Aiuuus aud Her
cules, and the Thcbuu Spliinx, whom we almost see
" Cast herself headlong from the Ismenian steep ;"

t J
and the sp'endSt! similes which are made of them, are in kit very
highest, and the very highest style of poetry. Yet we are told
that Paradise Regained is without " allusion to poets either ancient
or modern."* If the transition from the standixg of Jesus to
the Fall of Satan be, as hy all it must be allowed to be, strik
ing and admirable,how exquisite is the, as immediate, chauga
of the style, from the apostate's plung - of
" Rain and desperation and dismay,"
to the reception of Jesus by
" A fiery globs
Of angels on full Mil of wing
.
Who on their plumy thus received him soft
From his uneasy station, and upbore
As on a floating couch, through the blithe air."
The verse itself moves as on angel-wings; and as the gates of
heaven,
" Harmonious sound,
On golden binges moTing."f
Par Lost B. IIT. 20(1
The conception of this entire passage is as jnst and noble as
the execution is perfect. The analogy with the Paradise Lost seems
never to be lost sight of. One circumstance is peculiarly striking,
and has not, so far as I remember, been noticed. The Tree of
Life was forfeited by Adam's non-resistance of the Devil's tempta
tion, and his conquest by the Tempter. But immediately after lit*
" Victory" of the " second Adam"
" Over temptation and the Tempter proud,"
He is refreshed with
" A table of celestial food, divine
Ambrosial fruits, /"efcW/rom the Tube or Lira."
There is an angelic feast, though served up by human hands,
for the entertainment ol the angel Kapbael in Paradise Lost ;
of which an able critic, to whose edition of Miltou I have Ire See the Supplement to Tood's Edition of this poem.
f It may be remarked, on the subject of Milton's versification, (of which
we may have occasion to say more hereafter) that this passage of the opening
of the gates of heaven, is nne among almost innumerable instances of
the perfection of bis taste and of his ear. To the Angel Kaphael, in tba
fifth Book, Heaven's
" gate self opened wide
On golden hinge* turning."
To tbe Messiah it is
" On golden hinges moring."
The change of the one word of" turning" for " movi-.ig," (reproves, the melody
in the Mime* hat comparative degree to the relative importance of the persons
of the Angel Jiaplmet, and of Aijcsbiah. Mono but the greatest matter* bars
such exquisite touches.

f reo j
?uently referred, disapproves, as "too earthly, and 'too familiar"*
own that this has always been my own opinion of this, and of
u few other passages in Paradise Lost, frum which,so exquisitely
is it elaborated, though in so short a time of composition, Pa
radise Regained is entirely free, flow ethereal and supernatural are
the two feasts in this poem ; the angelic least provided for Jesus
in the passage above cited, and the supernatural least ptovidcd by
Satan to tempt Jesus in the wilderness, f which we shall hereafter
have occasion to present, as au intellectual feast for the entertain
ment of our readers !
Although, however, it is scarcely possible to pass without remark
sue 1 1 a noble" strain of pontic inspiration, as the one above cited,
I have quoted it for another purpose, namely, to illustrate my
meaning in the remarks, with which it was introduced, upon tho
different principles of composition to be distinguished in the two
, great poems ol our Milton. The fall of Satan in this splendid pas
sage is, as I have already Temarked, in the style and spirit ol Pa
radise Lost. It bears a strong resemblance to Satan's Pall limn
Heaven in that sublime poem. It describes " high action." The
style therefore rises, and becomes animated, copious, and sublime.
Whereas two line* are enough for the expression of the heavenly
mind, and to depict the self-sustained figure and attitude of the
unruffled Jesus. How different the characters and the conduct of
the two ! How nobly are they depicted by the master-hand of lha
poet ! The spirit ot Jesus, filly and beautifully expressed by the
erect posture in such a perilous situation, is as calm as his own
heaven. The spirit of Satan is mote gloomy aud disturbed than
" the tossing of those fifty waves,"where
" He with faia horrid crew
Laj vanquished, rolling in the fiery gulph ;
'
o'erwhelmed
With floods and whirlwinds, and tempestuous fire."
Par : Lust B. T. 51, 76.
Of the principle on which the poem of Paradise Regained is
composed, and liy which it is to be distinguished from Paradise
Lost, I need not add more. It is perfectly suited to the subject,
which is that of silent and sacred contemplation. The style is as
suitable, aud us pel leu as we can imagine it to he lormed. If the
reader cannot tind delight aud iimriiclioii in this last efiort of our
mighty poet, the delect, he may rest assured, exists iu his own
mind, not in the woik ol his author.
But is the Poetry, een in the most popular sense of that word,
more dull, less elheieal, ami less perlect than that ol Paradise Lost ?
So far as the subject, iu any pmi ol it, will admit of amplification,
* Par. Lost. B. ii. 38s. See Sir Kgerton Iirydgvs note vol. 2. p. 878. I
earnestly recommend this beautiful and cheap J&uiuou, uie bent jet publishad,ol' Milton's Poetical Work- in 6 vol: lo be placed iu the Colombo Li
brarv, and other public Libraries ol' the Island.
t Par. Kegd. B. ii. 337377.

181

I have shewn by (he splendid passage above cited, the Poet's wing
is as strong as ever, lie can at will soar into the empyrean, er
move with grace and beauty in the lower regions of the air. I
will, however, quote some select passages to set forth, to tlie con
viction of the most prusaic reader, the varied beauty of this most
exquisite Puetn, whictj is second only to Paradise kost. Indeed
in none of his woiks, according to their size, are there to be found
more numerous specimens of the different species of moral, didactic,
descriptive, and imaginative poetry, than in tbe neglected poem of
Paradise Regained.
But my present remarks have already extended to such a length,
that I must defer this pleasing task to a future number. I shall
tliere select some of the more striking passages,at least those which
I consider the most perfect; for the moie striking arc by no means
always the most perfect. But Milton has uone of the false glare
and glitter of ordinary writers ; and the plainest passages are often
the most ethereal and sublime in thought, and as perfect iu die-.
tion. Those passages, in connection wuh what I have already cited,
will shew that his mind had lost none of its power, nor his ima
gination one ray of its brightness, by years and by sorrows. But,
as it has been justly remarked of this great Poet, " In every des
cription Milton has seized the most picturesque features, and found
the most expressive and poelieal novas lor it. On the mirror of
his mind all creation was delineated in the clearest and most bril
liant forms and colours ; and he has reflected these with such har
mony and enchantment of language, as has (lever been equalled."
B.
SONNET TO MILTON.

{Written in 1829.)
"Milton ! Thou should'st be living at this hour!" *
But not thy huge two-handed sword to wield,
And smite thine enemies. Methinks a shield
Should shade a great man's wrath, and veil the power.
That stirs the noble, but which is the dower
Of meaner bosoms ; while the ample field
Of virtue by deep Quietness is held.
There Wisdom dwellsthere is the Muses' bowerThere Contemplation folds her silent wings
And Beauty breathes around her odorous breath;
And Fancy to the heavenly banquet brings
Her loveliest flowers, and twines her choicest wreath :
And o'er the whole Imagination flings
A light that dares the darkest shades of death.
B.
Wordsworth.

t 182 ]
ngltsf) amfjologrt.
vw
XL
1.
To the silent shadowy Past,
Another year has fleeted fast {
Another ySaf with all its train
Of mingled pleasure joy and pain.
Another1 year,
That may have nurVd the anguish'd flow
Of many a flood of hitter woe !
Of hope and fear.
And eyes that erst with rapture beam'd,
Within this year, niay oft nave streara'd
The bittei tear.
And hearts that in its earlier hours
Were wreathed by Fancy's brightest flow'rs,
Mav now be sean
2.
And joy may sparkle in the eye,
. That late was charged \vith agony.
The promised joy lio ttlore deferr'd,
And lovely lips whose lightest word
With Music thrill'd.
Such lips as chained the gather'd throng,
With melody and sweetest song J
And ever fill d
The hearer's heart with strange desires,
And kindled passion's quenchless fires,
May now be still'd.
The fleeted year mid wild distress,
And summer days of happiness,
' Is now fulfill'd.
3.
The heavy hours that seem'd to cling,
With laggard pace and leaden wing,
Have now evanished like a dream,
Or ripple in the faithless stream.
Another year
Before the fervid fancy lies,
With all its hidden mysteries,
To blight and cheer;
And Hope unfolds her pinions light,
And pictures scenes and moments bright,
In last career.
And may the future realize
The cherish 'd visions that we prize!
To each most dear.
X.

[ i- ]*
How often like q brilliant gem unsought,
Or meteor flashing bright through moonless skips ;
Thy image and thy wonh, sweet maid, are brought
In all their loveliness before mine eyes ;
And with that vision deep emotions rise '
From memory ' mine ol fondly treasured thought.
Sweet as the perfume from the moss rose shed,
Which lingers on, although the flower be dead !
Alone in crowds through joy or withering pain.
My soul still turns to thee, its guiding star;
The sigh that heaves this aching heart is vain
Thou can'st not hear it breathethou art (War
Dearest ! I would not have its echo mar
Thy bosom's peace between us the deep main
Rolls darkly onward, with a sullen war,
Which seems to say T ne'er may meet thee more!
I loved thee once, when in mv bounding heart
Hope's joyous fount was gushing wild and warm.
That vision from my soul shall ne'er depart
I love ihee now in darkness and in storm,
As fondly as when first F saw thy form ;
And tho' relentless fate doth bid us part, '
Remembrance turns to thee witfc hopelels will,
'JVlid sorrow ami despair I love thee still !
Tho* I no more behold those star like eyes.
That sparkle with u'inild, a chastened beam,
Iirfce that which hangs in deep Italian skies,
Or moonlight glancing on a summer stream ;
Thou art my morning thoughtmy .midnight dream.
To thee my ever waking fancy flies,
And in its flight melhinks, I pieSS thy hand,
And clasp those charms, that I may ne'er command!
With the wild waves of destiny to cope
Twere useless now these aching eyes can see.
On the horizon, the lay gleam of hope,
Receding into shade forsaking me
Nought now remains, save memory of thee !
And if some bright spot to my view should ope,
Too soon, alas ! it sinks away from sight.
"And on ny heart descends the veil of endless night !
Whate'cr my lot Oh, raay'st thou never knox
A pang like that which rends this bosom now.
And never may the murky cloud of woe.
Dim thy bright eye, or stain thy polish "d brow.
Once more, farewell ! oh take my latest vow
The last that from this loving heart shall How ;
Or bright or dark, my lutnre fate may be,
Through weal or wothis heart must throb for thee !
a
B. G.

xra.
Oh ! think of me when absent,
And let noi distance cast
A coldness o'er thy mem'ry,
Or a shadow o'er the past.
But every day, each morrow,
Where'er thy home may be;
In gladness, or in sorrow,
Oh ! think, still think of me.
And should'st thou see a stranger
Who like royseM doth roam,
Far, far away from kindred.
And his dear, his native home ;
Where'er thou thus dost meet him,
Oh, let the wanrd'rer see
)How kindly thou canst greet him
For think, Oh ! think of me.
And when the Sabbath calls thee
Unto the House of Prayer,
Still let my metn'ry mingle
With thy meditations there.
Then, when in solemn silence
All meekly bow the knee
Before their great Creator,
Oh ! breathe a Prayer for me.
And when, the old year waning.
Thou giv'st an hour to mirth,
With friends assembled round thee
To greet the New Year's birth.
Then, when the rich wine sparkle),
And all is mirth and glee,
With toast on toast succeeding,
Fill, fill one glass to me.
Ep. C. M.

185

Report of the Trade and Navigation of Java for Ttofc

Year 1839. Translated from the Official returns
To the Dutch Government.
COMMUNICATED BY 1. X. MOOVAART ESQ.

The Imports were from the following countries and in them are
included goods wabebous*d fob itb-exportatlox to the amount of
261,451. 13. 0.
Mm- I
rmxi'izi:.'

Holland
....
England
Fi a nee
Sweden
Denmark
Hamburgh
Bremen
America
Cape of flood Hope. . . .
|le of France
;...
Bengal & coasts of India
Cochin China
Siam
Chi on and Macao
Manilla.
Japan
Nfcw Holland
East Archipelago

Total.

[Specie.

945,66111 3'
837,29318 3
27,043 4 4
9,654 6 0
1.070 13 !0
24,00010 5
1,9881310
16JJ82 I 8
3,380 611
93*1 6 I
37,871 7 9
73918 3
8,597
62,43t
19,194
59,46213:10
3,278 17:4
536,6851 9

15

41,204 6 11 986,865
763 0 10 338,C56
1,77318 8; 28,817
9,554
1,070
3,42314 9 27,424
1*988
10,295 9 6 27,177
' 4081310
3,789
2.821
1,890 I 8
37,871
739

Id
18 2 170 Sliipt.
19 I r 32
2 7
0, 0
1310
5 2 ' n
6 ,i
..27 ..
0 9 * M
7 9 " ti
7 9 j* 1*
'IK 3 > ' )>

j }

8,597 14J 9 " i

52,430' 19 1
,. 12
19,194', 3 5
59,462.1310
1 61 ,,
7,733 1811
4,45415 7
20,24017, 4 356,926 [12 I s,l,369

Total 2,(186,06715I 9 ! 84,45418 82,170,522" 14' 5 jl,750

"I"

AlERCHASDUE IMPORTED IR"M VARIOUS COUNTRIES IN 1839.

Coffee
i
Coffee bagging.
Copper

25,902 piculs.
1,111,337 piec*..
i..

G la.' s and Earthenware

Gold dust
Ironmongery &c
Linens and Cotton (Dutch). . .
Do.
Do. (Foreign)..
Provisions
Bice
Spices ....
Sundries
Terra Japonica
Wax
Wines and Spirits.
Woollens
]

<56,3I0
24,855
80,130
49,647

4783 thaita.

734,115 picnls.
37,l;93
do.
1,924
do.
42,265
5,988

do.
do.

102,379
635,152
341,333
63,836
9,702
23,710
36,752
456,964
57,282
66,849
62,046

3
14
12
16
16
0

17
13
1
6
1
8
10
12
7
12

. 2,086,067, 15 |

5
4
2
6
6
10
4
0
8
11
8
8
8
2
9
2
9

( m ]
Number and Tonnaoe or Vessels under different ri.AGs entered inward*
in 1839, with value imported by them.

Ships.
flags
Butch
i.n lish.
French
Banish
lUreanh
Hamburg
Kniphausen
Bremen
Spanish

Tons,

Aver: Torinaoe or each

1,457 174,493$
40,162
106,
8,150
352
3,452
2,083
\l
300
II
3,357
754
3
1,591
15,233
1,030
620
l,ooo;
3
2,249
67

378$
281
176
265*
2!)7j
300
205
25 U
318

]' iltll.-esr

American
Chinese
Siamese
roehin- Chinese..
Native
TattL

38oJ
148
124
333
89$

.1,596,62019 I
333.5.W 2 7
44,18914 4
1,07(119 M
10,362.0 5
27,55. 1310
4 611
3,362 1 8
798 3 5
21,115 010
48,605 2 7
24,601 6 1
30,281 2 7
1,162 OJ 0
36,!*.; Hi iS
.2,170,52214 9

1750 255,132i

Value op Ext>obts to different Countries ik the Tear 1839.

Merchandize.
Holland
England
,
f lance
Hamburg
Bremen
Sweden
Denmark. .....
America
Isle of France
Spain
Cape, of Good Hope .
Bengal flee
.
China and Macao. . .
Cochin China
Sian
Manilla
Japan
New Holland
East Archipelago. . .

Specie.

3,486,30 1 16
168,565 14
72,412, 0
19,730 0
2,033 0
27,106 6
1,398 13
83,262 17
8,937 0
526 1
6,916 13

1 6
0
1 0
0
10
11
10
I
10

1 4,932,072 8

7
653 1 0 10
1 82,076 13 10
3,731 13 U
2,96S 0 0
2,320 13 10
19,543 0 10
63,052 10 6
786,540 10 6

Total

10,602
82
43
86
0

8 83,496,9041 ft 9
17 4 168,64K1|| 4
9 6
72,455 9 6
19 1
19,81619 1
2,033 0IO
0 0
64 10 5 27,16017 4
1,3981310
0 0 0
72 1, 8 83,334 1:1 0
3,98010 4
43 9J6
0 0 0
626 I 8
6,91613 7
0 00
679 3 6
26 2 8
14,463: 8 1 lE6,515j 1 11
0 0 0
3,73113 0
2,95 0 0
0 0 0
3,370 3 4
1,043 9 6
86 19 3
19,630 Oj I
0 Oj 0
63,052 1(> 5
56,528 8, 8 84,2,068 19 1
83. 1.19 ' 4' 4 5.i 15,2 II 13 0

I W 1
Ekummatiox oi nil Principal Exports fob 1839.

Arrack. . ,
Coffee
,... ..
Cotton and Cotton Yarn, . .
Bh-ilsnests
Indigo.,..,....
,,.,
Pice.
,
Sandalwood
Spices
,
Sugar.
Tin
,
Snbacco and Segars
Sundries

4,601 leagers.
757,476 picuU.

26,010
2,074,fc2U
246,120
48,673
310,861
407,769
46,709
1(6,119
951,843
207,093
74,338
433,672

13
0
19
18
13
16
II
13
7
13
13
8

10
010
3
0
6,
3
0
9
0
10
5

. 4,938,072

280
do.
1J91.686 lba.
1,103,378 piculs.
17,622
do.
8,941
do.
i $42,017
do.
47,631
do.

Number and Tonnage of Ships under different

Outwards in 1839 with amount exported by them.

:l
flags, cleat ed

Aver. Tosk.
Flags.
Dutch
English
French
Swedtub.
Danish
Hamburg.. .
Spanish.,
fnrrqgueaa ,
Bremen
American. . . ..
Kniphnusen. .
Chinese,. ....
Cochin Chinese
Siamese ......
Native.......

Ships.

Tux 8.

ok EACH.

1,486 189,194*
124
45.673
31
8,629
18
5,041
302
3
2,488
9
380
2
9
2,720
3,624
H
49
18,322
300
1
lv790
M
1.000
3
320
3
71
1,773

1274
368
278
280
176
276
190
302
331}
374"
300
128
333}
106J
24

Vamje.
. 4,13.5,3:8
369,058
87,908
35,464
5,649
23,953
1,462
77,680
49,331
U5.I98,
2.5S8
30,269
6,226
16,409
28,681

12
16
15
19
16
0
3
6
16

10

i f

, 3,015,211

13

6.
0
6
10
0
Ifi
6

0
1 0
16
6
0
0
2
,6
1

1 'o

1
1,836 ,281,638*

Receipt or Customs in 1839.

On Imports..,.,.,
,...,
.
Exports..,. ..,,,.,
,.,...,.,...
Bonded Goods . , ,
,.,...,.,.,.
Trans-shipment
,.
Weighing and Measuring.,.. ,
,,
Warehouse Kent
|
Excise on Tobacco
Various,.,,.,..,
,.,,,,[,
Interest on Credits

299,468
2l5,7o
2,6*10
277
1,805
2,6 1 1
5,590
25,706
2,483

556,326

8
10
'2
16

4
W
0
7
4

'*
4
6
6
4
i
0
6
4
0

B 3

CovpijinTB Statement between the trade in 1839, and 1838.

Value or Imports.
Id 18$).
In I83&
Sncrease in goods in 1839.
)ecrcase in s|itxi>< in do.
Total encrease in do.

Goods.

Spicik.

Total.

. 2,086,067 6 IK 84,4.54 19 1 2,170,5221.11!

.8,017,844 JO 184,927 7 lo! 2,102,771 182
. 68,2i %i.
47S 8, 9,
67,750,1

Valde or Export a.
In 1839
In 1898.
Encrease. jn goods in 1839.
Vecrea&e in specie in do.
Total encn-iisc in do.

> 4,932.07'4+'8 83,13U1 5,015,211 13 0

3,658,602,1^2 1 10,112W 3,766,7 1 J 710.
1,273.46996
2

J 26,973 4' 4
M
II IJ
M
M I, 1,246,196

flawipta fox Customs in 1889

Dpi
Do.
in 1838. ..:...:

556,328
..,,529,270
Eiicrease in 1839

27,058

Tbja encrease is on Coffee, Bice, Indigo and Tin.

SKETCHES OP MEN Aiq> THINGS.

BY THE EBITOB,

*-cpo
'.' J chiefs among ye Inkin notes,
An Jhith he'll prent it."
No. 3.

Xtjiu 1*t Sag. "

" Jf merry Christmas and a happy New Year to you, " is a
greeting familiar in tli ems of must of out: readers. To John BtiU
it i& synonymous witb siiiuins of beef, reeking hoi puddings, eoal
tires, smiling luces and wami shakes ol ihe hand. K'ven in distant,
tropical dimes be is^ nut willing to forget and forego the festivities
of Ins fatherland, though he be obliged to substitute a lump ol
buffalo llesh for his fine rosy siiloiu, and a dusty punkah for nil
brightly blazing fire, lu Knglund, more particularly iu Loudon,
this is the gayest, if not the happiest season of the year, tvery
one by common consent, forgets for u time his vexations and his sorrows,

W9

and gives a free vent to bis gayer feelings. Families are united
in happy, innocent enjoyment. Old and young, parents and chiLi
dreu, join in the same games and laugh at tbe some tunny stories.
Acquaintances who have during the past year met coldly and dis
tantly, now throw aside reserve, and Income tbe best companions
in the woild. Friends who have been seperaied by distance or cii-.
cumslances, come together to crack jokes and walnuts, and to exi
press their astonishment at each olhei *s looking so remarkably young
and well. Sturdy cast-iron men of business are seen loitlax tbeir
coppe> countenances, unbolt their craay old hearts, and let loose a
few half starved smiles. Even, the poor pauper in the workhouse
partakes of the almost universal relaxation, and gels an exna basin
ol pea-soup and a red herring during the week, and if he be in
high favor with the parish beadle, is treated to an order on the
parochial cook for a plateful ol scraps from the churchwardens'
annual dinner.
London, the queen of cities, is more replete with bustle and re
tail business during tbe chrisimas week than at any other time,
although large mercantile transactions are almost at a stand still.
Ad the woild appeal to have assembled there to make merry and
spend their money. From, day -break to night-fall, and often till long
alter, there is one continued ebb and flow of men, women .and
children. Lon,r strings of shot t stages are pouring into and depo
siting their contents in tbe " great metropolis," Steam-boats literally
cover the waters of the Thames, laden with living cargoes. The
Northern and Western out-lets of the capital towards Kensington,
Hainpslead and Highgale, are swarming with foot-passengers, bend
ing their light steps to the favorite places of resort. It is u fine,
clear, frosty day : not a cloud U> be seen, to throw a, gloom upon
the inert y doings of the busy world below: the sober citizens and
their families, dressed in their sunday best, pour from their lanes
and courts by hundreds and thousands, all punting fur a few hours,
ol sweet, wholesome air and cessation Irom toil. The North and
City Roads are a* crowded as Fleet Street or llolbom at mid-day,
and it the frost should have been severe enough to. have formed
ice, numbers will turn off at the City Canal to see the skailers,
and perhaps have a slide and a tumble or two. Many a struggling
pair may be seen on Shepherdess fields and near Copenhagen House:
p;etty servant girls or small tradesmen's daughters, strolling with
their beaux in lhair sunday ribbons and shoes, and may be half
promising to he at tbe dance in the evening at the FtUgle Tavein.
As the day wears on, a dense fog gathers over the din}:} house
tops and gives timely warning to the swarms of pedestrians to
BC' k their li> mjs, and their firesides.
If there be one class ol human beings happier than another, and which
does the heart more good to behold, at this period, it is young children.
To ijitii the new year is peculiarly auspicious, for they partuku
of all its festivities without any ol the regrets and sorrows which
somehow or other, will lorce themselves edgeways into tbe bosoms
.oi those riper in years, spile ul all their tuuriy fetlaj^s. W

1> 1

knot* not a lovelier sight than a young family home for the
holidays, lull ol' health ami vigour, and strolling through the streets
with their parents, on a clear, frosty day, with their little boas .
and shawls, and great coats, wondering at atid admiring everything*
as they wend their way to the Soho-Bazaar and the Polytechnic.
They have all got theft shillings and their hall-crowns to spends
to thejn small fortunes, and their little heaits beat quickly as they
draw near the great emporium of toys and trinkets. They walk
in two and two, with their parents behind. For some time not
a word is spoken ; there is too much to look at to allow of chat
tering. There are the splendid toys, the beau til til piciutes, the long
lofty rooms, the many tine ladies, and above all the crowds ofUt-
lie visitors, like themselves, dressed in their best, and like them toor
Wondering and happy. When this lahy scene of childhood has been,
fully explored, they bend their steps to Regent Street, loaded with
spoil, and theie with their last shilling obtain a sight of the
wonders of the Polytechnic Altogether it is a happy day for thein
and at ni^ht, after a substantial lea of hot muffins and crumpets, Asstley's crowns their enjoyments. They never saw anything like it
before such beautiful, gentle horses sttch dreadful men in armour
such pretty little children on pretty poneys, and then the clown
in the circle oh, what a funny fellow he is! What dioll things
he says, what faces he makes, and what cuts he gets from the
nian with lilt) long whip ! But they are drowsy long before the,
last piece is over, and half of them fall asleep as they ride home.
Their slumbers are sweet and their dreams are of happiness. God
bless their young hearts !
The London shops are in their zenith at this time, and the sight
t>l them in the full blaze of gas and plate glass, gives one a good
idea of the immense wealth of the capital. What a scene the streets
tf London present on New Year's night, when every shop looks like a
tiivan or a palace: and every court, and lane, and nook pours forth its own
tide ol human beings, thai rolls on and on, seemingly as endless as count
less ; while the carriage way is so shickly studded with vehicles flyng
like die wind, in every direction, as to make an attempt at crossing ap
pear ihe act of a maniac, and equivalent to sudden death. Alto
gether it is a dazzling sight, a second enchanted garden of Aladdin
where industry is the Wonderful Lamp that brings the possessor wealth,
and honor, and fame. To see the cosily luxuries of Repent or
Bond Street, the rich merchandize of the Strand and Oxford Street,
one would wonder where the poverty and distress could be that
are described in the daily prints. Can want exist in the midsl of
these emporiums of the world ? Yes, in these busy streets wealth
jostles against lean, cold, povertv the sleek, smiling millionnaire rubs
shoulders with the half-starved, half clothed vagrant.
The Strand is perhaps the busiest of all busy places on "this busy
tiight. The shops are in a blaze of light, and almost as full as
the streets without. The Grocer is in the zenith of his glorv, and
-such is the demand for his fruits and spices thai before nudni^ljt

191

twr> of his apprentices and the shop porter are carried out in a com*
plete state or insensibility, and several pairs ot scales an; quite knocked
up. The Silk-mercer is beside hi in.sell'with ilic flow of business, and
has recourse to gentle stimulants at an early hour of the evening.
The Cheesemonger knows not who to serve first ; and as to the Gio
Filiates there is nd getting into them for the crowd. Froth floor
to ceiling, from shop-window to back-parlour, from wall to wall, the
retailer has piled up his wares in gay, tempting profusion. Every art
has been employed in the carelul disposition of his goods, and he
is well repaid lor this pains: his heart is gladdened with the inces
sant chink Of crowns and sovereigns upon his counter.
Covent-Garden market is a little illuminated fairy-land of itself
an ufb,ui garden of (he Hesperides'; the richest and rurest fruits from
nil countries o( the world, are piled up in countless heaps, and deKght at once the sight and the smell. There are flowers too, evert
at this time of the year, sweet and fresh, and the blight holly and
misseltoe add to the gaity of the scene which is enlivened by myriad*
cl smiling faces, many of whom ate there to seek their iNew Year's
luxuries, but more to gaze and pass on.
Not less busy and bustling though in a different style, are the
Newgate and Leadenhall Markets. You there see the most delicate
meat, poultry and game that can be met with in all London. Al
most every county in England has sent its contributions of deli
cacies lot the feasting of the good and wealthy citizens of the great
metropolis. Ducks and geese from Norfolk and Suffolk : plump capons
and rabbits from Kent and Surrey: Hampshire poik: veal from Essex,
and butter and eggs from Epping and Reading. Fish too frdm the mighty
deep. All aie clean and sweet, characteristic of an English market.
The tramp of many feet is heard upon the stone pavement, slow
and heavy. There is 11 sober quietness in the bustle of these mar
kets, for here buyers are cautious in making purchases, a joint
of meat or a turkey being of far more importance to the family
man than a pound of raisins and an ounce ol spice for the pud
ding, or a handful of herbs for the turkey, The long jets ol bla
zing gas, the rows and heaps of eatables, the merry hum of the
passing crowd, the loud laughing voices of the sellers; and the sharp
hissing sound ot knife and steel, all unite to form one merry*
pleasing soo.e of happy bustle, not to be surpassed in any part
v( London.
Whitecliapel is more crowded than ever : from Aldgate Pump
to Bow Road is one dense mass of dandy Jews, drunken Irish and
boisterous sailors. Almost every other house is a gin palace, and
in each of them are seven or eight distinct fights. Neai the Pavillion Theatre the odour of the gin and tbe butcher's meat
gives place to that of oranges and ginger beer, and the sharp,
short ory of " thrup-pence a pound, thrup-pence a pound," is
supplanted by "bills o' the play, bills o' the play/' The entertain*
ment at this Theatre is suited to the penliar tastes of the refined
popu'ation around, and almost sure to consist of a nautical drama, a
Cherokee tradgedy and a nursery pautomine. Cargoes ef sailors

192

rs pouring in fiOnr abreast, they would not walk in pairs for

toe Lord High Admiral himself they have just enough money left
for a gallery ticket, and so long as they see a bloody'-minded pi*
rate, a bold boat-swain, and a Chippewa chieftain who hops across
rocks and rivers, a hornpipe and a broad-sword combat, tbey are
pretty sure to be satisfied, unless the pirate happens to kill the
boatswain and- then they are perleclly mutinous, but that is not
often allowed, it is too dangerous an experiment with a nautical
audience.
One meets with n different description of gaity in the so-.
ber neighbourhood of G unwell Street and Islington, at this season
of universal unbending. There are glad sounds of music and merry
voices from more than one upstairs window, whence proceeds also
an unusual quantity of candle-light. The music is but humble and
the voices are juvenile, so that we may safely conclude them to be
family affairsi We pause before a house to listen to the merry
peals of laughter, and the quick tramp Of many light feet above,
joining in the count) y dance. We catch a momentary glimpse of
some fair one neat the window which is thrown partly open to
cool the heated room, und a very pretty specimen of cockney, plebian bcaiiiy it is too. A puir Of bright laughing jet eyes; silken
tresses dark and long, en wreathed with a handful Of white roses : a
neck of surpassing loveliness, and then alight fairy scarf flung witchiugly over the lair shoulders, and held together with a sprig of
jiolly but so contrived as to allow them to peep wickedly forth.
This one brief glimpse is enough to satisfy us of the hap
piness within.
We fancy we can see the merry dancers
tripping it lightly along, full of youthful, laughing gaity, the
two old fiddlers and the harper at one end of the room, and a
Joodly table at the other, groaning beneath the weight of whole
etacombs of sandwiches, steaming hot jugs bf negus, and trays of
creams. The walls are nicely decorated with sprigs of fresh holly,
and the good old english " misseltoe-bongfi" beams, blight as
ever, in its " pride of place.'' There are the elder branches of the
family loo, filling the important posts of lookers-on : a decent
spi inkling of auiils, uncles and cousins of various degrees, and
ven of r.o degrees at all, fiom the Boiough and Norton Polgate;
.and we are quite positive that the old antiquated touplo close to
the chimney corner, are relations from the country. The hostess
is sitting by thum acid doing all that the occasion requires, while
her husband, good man, is stationed near the door ready for any
emergency : he keeps sharp look-out on the " musicians" and is
most attentive to all the juniors, carrying them sandwiches; rakes
and creams without end, which he wont hear of their refusing, and
.then bustles back for more with as much gleoas though he were selling
thematalatgc profit. In short he runs about, rubs bis hands and
feels as happy as if he were in his shop on Saturday night. We
dearly love such humble festivities as these, and are vulgar enoncrh
to own that wc had rather spend one happy evening with this
nicrry party than a dozen at " Almacks," or your " Bals da

'

"t "

193

Saison" in any of the aiistocratical squares or crescents at the west

end. Give us the ungioved hand of a laughing, bright-eyed city^
damsel, in a regular hard-working country-dance, and a tig fur
the delicate fingers and waspish waist of your duchesses and vour
countesses in the most languishing Spanish dance or waltz in ex
istence.
But there are New-Year revellers of another clnssjolly, hale old
fellows who meet in queer, antiquated hostelries in out-of-the-way
streets, and call for hot eighteen pen'orths, talk politics, laugh at
the landlord's jokes and sing numerous nondescript songs. It's a
rare sight to see a knot of these sturdy old oaks clustered
closely around a goodly fire, with the Yule log blazing high in
the chimney, and we have treated our young eyes to such a sight
before now. We shall uot soon forget the " Black Dog" ini
Vauxhall Walk, not that there is anything very strikingly pictu
resque aim lit. it, for it is a heavy, dingy,- misshapen heap of
bricks and mortar, but there is a charm about it, connected with
old associations not easily effaced. It is one of those spots which,
some how or other, seem in after life to be linked to our existence.
The very horse-trough at the door seems as familiar to us as
though we bad Ifcen born and cradled in it. It is a cold, dark
frosty night and the small, glimmering lamp fixed to the elm tree
near tlie door, throws a sickly light upon the dingy sign-board
above it. A few straggling customers are hastening from the por
tals with their vessels of pewter and brown-ware foaming at the
month, and the active waiter is rushing from bar to parlor arid
from parlor to kitchen, in a state of unusual excitement. More hot
eighteen-pen-oi'ths have been called for from the parlor of the
"Black Dog" on that one New-Year's night than within the me
mory of the most aged pot-boy in the parish af Lambeth. From
the half open door of the little, low, dark parlor proceed sounds
not to he mistaken. They arc certiiinly not the vesper hymns of
water-drinkers and beyond all doubt not the out pourings of senti
mentalists. No, no,they are good sterling notes of the olden
times ; echoes of jolly Tom Dibdin and as opposite to HayneS
Baily as brown stout is to viu ordinaire, Tis a goodly chorus, but
there is one tlinuderer heard far above the rest, like the organ of
Westminster Abbey amidst a concert of jews harps, and it echoes
about the old oak panelling of the room and up the great smoky
chimney in fine style. II we take a peep into the room we shall
see what a merry crew they are. There is the thunderer of song,
a red, oily faced old gentleman, close to the hearth, with a genu
ine Meenham in hand. A little silver-haired, laughing eyed
neighbour is opposite, and around them sundry groiips of thin and
plump, short and tall. One is a stock-broker, him with the twink
ling eye and bald forehead ; that dark haired man with snrtout and
military stock is a reporter to a daily paper ; and he oti his right,
blue spectacled and white cravatted, looking as prim and compact
as though he bad just been turned out of one of Bram&h's hy
draulic presses, is a clerk iu some government office. These art

1M ]

\he principal members of this festive club, met to celebrate tbe birth
pf the new year and if the length and loudness of the songs,
the peals of laughter and the rattling of pipes and glasses on (he
round table, be any criterion ol joviality and happiness, why all
we can say is that tbe "Blnck Dog" contains as true a little band
of good-lellows as ever assembled in oaken parlor or red-bricked
kitchen. At length the sounds wax fewer and fainter, until the
slumming of doors and the sliding of chairs are the only noises'
that disturb the neighbours. The little party are dispersing, allright and proper, and as they sally forth in sober gaity of heart,
they determine that those who reside nearest shall be seen home
by tbe more remote dwellers ; arm in arm they move onwards,
stretching right across the street, ' and eveT and anon there is a
bait, a knock or a ring, a shaking of bands all round, and thru
the party moves on one less in number. At length but two remain;
they pause at the corner of a little terrace ; the moon bursts fiom
a silveiy cloud; their hands are united in a friendly grasp; and as
the cool breeze of midnight sweeps past us, our ears catch a well'
known greeting pronounced jri deep sincerity. With that farewell
we now take leave of our readers',' A merry Cbiistmos and 8)
happy New Year to you all."

BRIEF NOTICES OF THE POETS, PHILOSOPHERS $,

OF THE TAMILS.
By Simon Cash Chitty, Esq.{Continued.)

37. Arunakiri, a celebrated poet who belonged to the temple of Tirvvanmmalei, in the Curuatic, but tbe period at which he lived is uncertain. He
composed a series of one hundred Tifuppvgal, or encomiastic songs to his
favorite god Skanda, which are still extant and often sung at the death bed
of a Hindoo. He was also the author of a poem, called Vdiitkoor Vaitnam,
descriptive of the different stages of human life, aud as it may not be unin
terestiug to the readers, I shall just subjoin an abridged translation of it,
without, however, pretending to convey any of its poetical beauties.
" The beginning of man is as a dew drop falling from the tip of a blade
of grass : he assumes his corporal form in the womb of his mother in the
course of ten moons, and is then brought forth ; ho lies down, crawls, prattles,
walks and becomes acquainted with science. At sixteen lie is in tho bloom
of bis youth; goes forth richly dressed, and adorned with jewels, courts the
Society of young women, is ravished by their ejea, ltU, UitusiU loose to all

195

irrngularities and squanders his wealth.

iLe father of children.

He at length gets a wife and becomes

The husk of his rice even he refuses to putt with,

and his wish is to enjoy- them all.

He thinks, by living chenply, by refusing

to support charities, or to dispense favors, he is of all men the most happy.

His youth now passes away and old age creeps on ;
teeth

drop, his si^ht

his bair gets grey, his

fails, his body becomes dry, his back bends, he has

recourse to a walking slick and is gazed aiby the youi\g with derision.

While

in this predicament the ministers of i'tuno * with their shuggy hair and fright
ful countenance

approach

him,

and seize and hear away his life in

midst of the screams of his wife and children.

the

His kinsfolk and friends then

assemble, talk of his good or evil deeds, convey

his body to the burning

ground with the sound of torn loms, and commit it to the fire, which consumes
and reduces it to a handful of ashes."
28.

Pattanattiipillei.

The popular belief is that this philosopher was by

caste a clullt/, and lived at ftavtripoontyatnam, in the Climatic

sessed of great riches, but imbibing

He was pos

an opinion, that they were merely the

illusions of the world, he parted with them all, and passed the remainder of
his life, subsisting wholly on alms and esteeming a potsherd and pure gold
alike.

His sister ashamed of his conduct attempted to poison him, but with

out success.

Ho lived to a great age and died in a wood near Tirmafon-

kuda, where a Samide, or monument was afterwards erected by his kinsfolk

to perpetuate his memory.

Tho verses which he ejurulated extempore as ha

wandered up and down the country have been carefully preserved, aud they
contain the opinions which he held.

He represented man as a puppet whose

motion stood only upon the pleasure of God' and therefore he was incapable
of doing either good, or evil by himself.
29.

Paltilakiri.

This philosopher is said to have been originally a king,

but of what place is not known.

He was a contemporary of Patlanattuyillei,

and in imitation of him, abandoned his worldly possessions and adopted the
life of a Sanuiyati, begging his bread from door to door and enduring the
privation of all that could in any way have served to gratify his senses.

He has

left a number of exclamatory verses, called Pulnjnbd, in one of which he ex

presses himself as follows:
" When shall the time come that the Skasters shall be burnt, the four Vcdat
manifested to be a lie, aud I be made whole, through the knowledge of the
Wystery?"

Tarn. Diet.
* The god of death.

(To be Continued)

*96 ]

POETICAL SKETCHES OF THE INTERIOR OF THE ISLAND

OF CEYLON, by tub bet. B,. bailey.(Continued.)

XXV.
THE MOUNTAIN TARN.
That Tree, shaped like a glittering coronet,
Standing upon the summit of the green
Bare hill, above the Mountain Tarn, between
The loftier mountains,flowing at my feet
The laughing oya, this most calm retreat,
This nest among the mountains,I have seen
With still and deep emotion. Nought of mean,
Or earthly caie should now have powei to fret,
Or ruffle the smooth waters of the soul.
The winged spirit soars even to the top
Of the Indian Bird ;? low as the streams that roll
Beneath my heart. The heavenly light of hope.
In such a. spot, instructs man how to be
The favored child of immortality.

xxvi.
THE STREAMLET,
Tired with upgazing at the range of hills,
And having viewed the Mountain Peacock's head.
My footsteps, not unwillingly, were led
To one of those sequestered tinkling 1 ills,
Where the clear streamlet runs not as it wills,
But is obstructed in its stony bed,
And, fretted, murmurs that it hath not sped
So smoothly as it would. Life's lesser ills
Are imaged by its waters. When our feet
Stumble ut petty obstacles, 'twere well
That our impatient murmurs to a dell
Like this were limited. The spot is blest
With deep seclusion, and a perfect rest,
Beneath the Peacock Mountain lone and sweet.
Th Peacock Mountain.

I w J
xxvn.

BLACK FOREST.

The Hartz of Germany I hare not seen :

But this contents me, tills my mind with thought
A deep enjoyment hath this forest wrought
Within me, yet as solemn as the gieen
Of these lull trees that let small light between
Their thickly studded stems,a spirit fraught
With fearless melancholy, which nath taught
The mind to muse amid a sombre scene,
Like this dark wood of drear monotony,
And twilight dim, and shadowy solitude.
I've rarely seen tiees grow so straight and high.
In dells so deep, and dark, and vast, and mile. '
A bird's note startles ; and the insects' cry
Rings a shrill chorus through this gloomy wood.

XXVffl.

BREAK IN THE FOREST.

As on the lonely traveller through the night

Comes the fair dawn of daylight,is this Break
In the dark shadowy foiest. The tall peak
Of the near Peacock Mountain en the right,
The distant mountains covered wiih dim light,
Relieve the eye, and altogether make
A lovely bay of ether, and awake
The busy fancy to assist the sight,
And revel in ihe distance. Hills are blended
With the deep valleys in one sea of blue :
And now before the mind's eye is extended
The billowy ocean foaming in the gale ;
As voyagers around Hope's Cape oft view
A swollen sea el' mountain and of vale.

198

XXIX.

OPEN COUNTRY.

I breathe more freely in this open space,

The shadowy forest and its gloom are o'er ;
I love these wilds, and hills, and plains the more ;
They come upon me with a freer grace.
The view is vast and limitless. I trace
The outline only of the mass before,
And all around me. Now let fa.ncv soar,
Nor stoop her wing, save in some pleasant place ;
Such as may rivet any mortal eye.
And captivate the not unwilling mind
With beauty and with mountain majesty :
Yet though such spots out admiration bind.
Unfetter fancy ; let her wild wings fly,
Like Ariel, free as freest mountain wind.

XXX.

CASTELLATED ROCK.

Upon a mountain summit stands a Rock :

Its sides are stained by weather, or by lime ;
Its steep and lofty walls no foot can climb ;
It seems a Castle that hath stood the shock
Of elements and war. It hath a look
Of fearless terror, confidence sublime ;
A carelessness of courage and ol crime.
At sublunary things it seems to mock.
It looks with dark disdain on all beneath ;
The clouds that rested on it fade way ;
Tis the abode of danger and of death ;
It frowns impatient of this lovely day 1
And as I slowly ride beneath the wall,
MeUiioks I bear the warder's hoarse loud call.

199

XXXI.

AFTER SUNSET.

If in the orbs that glimmer from afar

In the blue concave of the sky above,
If glory, beauty, and transcendaiu love
Speak silent in " each bright particular star;"
Not with less glory, though in shadow, ate
Apparelled these dim passes, and each cove
Cut in the mountain's rocky sides. I move
Fearless of danger, and untouched by care
Of sublunary things ; yet feeling deep
The Omnipresence of the mighty GOD,
Who called up worlds from the chaotic sleep,
Unconscious worlds, yet glorious, the abode
Of thinking spirits, who forever keep
Their watch where less than angels never stood.

poetical &ftetcf)e&, 8tt. &c.

XXVII.

The Black Forest is appropriately named. It is a dark, lonely, melancholy

placii. A solitary bird now and then sends up his clear voice from the low
deep dells, darkened with tall perpendicular trees,the height and depth of
which are imperceptible. He is answered by innumerable insects, like a chorus
of crickets, ringing their shrill and tuneless cries in changes, like a set of
hello, though without their melody, and sometimes answering each other's cries
from remoter parts of this most gloomy wood. The cry is discordant and painful.
This insect is doubtless the Cicada. We meet with it in the South of Europe,
In every part of this island,and in all warm climates. But in this wood they ara
numerous, and their cry is more loud and discordant, yet with a certain kind

L>00

H measure, than I err* hJiard. This is not the first time that this insect has Video
rfade the subject of verse. It is tlie not unfreejttent subject of the Greek Anthologies.
Thire is one ot those be;r;itYfuI little poems by Melebger, addressed to tils
K';c*Ai, which is translated rv Mr. Merirule, and introduced into his new
Edition of the Greek Anthologies, first collected by the late Rev. Robert
Blaud, uud others. It begins thus :

TO THE CICADV
-

" Noisy Insect! ilrimktm still

With dew drops like the stars in number,
Voice of the desert, loiul and Thrill
That svukost echo from her slumber,
And sitting On the bloomy spray,
Carol'st at ease thy merry luy."

" The Insectsays the learned translator in a notehere apostrophized, is

the sort of grass. hopper called by the Greeks ttilix, and is described by
the writers on Entomology, in terms which show the accuracy of the poet's
observation. The males of the perfect insect, In general, chirp like the
cricket; and some of the larger kinds of the Tettigonia family possess two
particular drum-like organs, which emit a loud and incessant noise, at the
pleasure of the insect."*
This description agrees, with the habits of the insect in Ceylon, which
I suppose to bo tbe Cicada. In the maritime'! provinces, this insect, " carols
a merry lay." It is perhaps of a smaller kiud than that in the lonely and
darksome woods, and forests, and jungles of the interior. Those are " the
larger l.imk of the Tettigonia family ;" their cry is harsh and melancholy.
The same cry is noticed in the second part of "Sketches" LVII written on
my return through the same wood.
I may mention, once for all, that the want of birds, and of animal life
generally, save of reptiles, is the most discouraging feature of the scenery of
this island, in other respects so generally delightful: It is perhaps the case
of India generally ; but of this I am not able to speak. In passing through
the gloomy jungle and forests of this clime, we remember our native woods.
We hear them, as it were, echoing and re-eebomg with Innumerable birds,
their notes almost as numerous and as various as themselves. We dwell
Upon these remembered scenes with the same affection and tenderness, with
ifhich we call to mind our English firesides, our absent families, and bur
absent friends.

'*

Sole sub ardeuti resonant arbusta cicudilVirg ; Eilog! it. \3.

-.

201

There are, however, scenes of exquisite beauty.

the island are

noble, and often sublime.

The grander features of

A person

of taste, espi-riully if

combined with religious feeling, can scarcely be unhappy, at least actively

to, aniid such glorious; works of the Almighty,however strange
mate, however remote the situation.

tho

cli

But we cannot say with the distracted

man mentioned by a traveller in another part of the East, as quoted in the

notes to Mr. Merivale's beautiful collection of Anthologies, already noticed ." I

heard the

nightingales' in the trees, the partridges in

the mountains

and the brutes in the desert, uttering their plaintive notes, and doleful lamen
tations.

whilst all

reflected that it did not become a human being to be asleep,

other creatures were celebrating the

praises of God."

nightingale pours forth his " plaintive notes," or

tudes of Tropical countries^
lamentations."
sounds.

The jackalls

The solitary

merrier

Alas ! 19

song in the soli

Our woods resound indeed at night with " doleful

bunt their prey with vocal, but not musical

night bird utters his

monotonous and disugreeabl*

now.

\)e ObrranH Uoxttt;

Bt the Rev. J. O. -Macvicar.

(Cvntimted.)
EGYPT.

It was a moment of emotiort when the French Steamer the $&

sostrit weighed anchor in ttie harbour of Syla and set her couise
for Alexandria. This was to bid farewell to Europe and to look
to Asia and Africa for the next landIt was to bid farewell to
the beautiful child and to go and see ihe venerable parent; for
thus stands Egypt related to Greece, and not to Greece only but
through Greece to Rome, and through Rome to Europe generally.
The idea of seeing Egypt was truly delightful. What country of
all the world so deeply and delightfully associated with early relio-ious feelings ; and indepeiidantly of all association, what country is
more interesting at the present moment in all its relations and prospects ?
After leaving the Archipelago the first land we made was the
Island of Candia Along which we coasted feasting our eyes on tbe
beautifully formed sumroets of its snow-capped mountains which
were very pleasing to look at, for the weather was now very sunny
and warm. Unfortunately there was no one to point out to us Mount
Ida. But how sad to think that an island which was so great not
only in classic times, but when under the Venetians in modern times,
should be now, as it were, sunk and lost to the human species, tn
consequence of Mahommedan sway and tbe anarchy into which the
Ottoman empire has fallen.

202

When Cundin sank in the horizon hehind us (here was nolhing left for
Us to admire tor a time, but the brilliancy of the sky and the blue ol the
Ocean Of these, the latter is so clear in the Mediterranean that it seems
fts it the whole water had been tinted with ultra-marine; and whereever there is a pave in a rock into which the sea Hows, as lor instance
the grotto Azuro in the jsjuud ol Capri, and the light of day belore
jt can illuminate the cave must pass through the waters, the whole
is rend -red of such a bright azure that the effect seems quite ma
gical. At present we had not long to wait before we were enter
taining hopes of seeing land again. On the fourth morning
by break ol day we were all looking out for the land of Egypt.
And indeed up sooner was the sun risen than Egypt was seen
stretching out like a line along the horizon towards which our course
was directed The first sight p.1 this land was so interesting that
we continued gazing at it till we could distinctly see the shipping
in the hat hour of Alexandria, the Arab (ower, the numerous wind
mills on the heights, Pompeys pillar, the palace of Mahomet Ali
and other objects of interest. Our progress at ibis lime towards
(be shore was however very slpyy, in consequence of a strong cur
rent which sets put from the land in this direction. But still be
fore it was noon yye were af anchor in the harbour of Alexandria
in the midst of tl|e united Turkish and Egyptian fleets, a splen^
did armament which in the eye of a landsman at least, seemed to con
sist ol ships as fine, well found, and warlike as could be seen at
Spithead or Toulon. Besides this fleet there were also many other
vessels in this fine harbour, and the whole formed a very imposing
sight. When viewed in the distance where the lofty masts of the
shipping were but obscurely seen surmounting the low-lying land around,
we seemed to be looking towards some seaport of England about
the mouib of the Thames. Such is the general aspect of Alex
andria viewed from the sea. And now that we were in the midst
of it wc thought that if it did not look like England ; it looked vary
like game which England would fly at some day,
\V'hcn we were in Greece we heard very alarming accounts of the extent
to which the plague was raging in Alexandria, we were therefore very
well pleased to learn from the boats which come along side (in the stern
of one of which the redoubtable Mr. Waghorn was pointed out) that the
deaths from this scourge did not exceed half a dozen a day. We
therefore pioceeded to land without apprehension ; and fortunately
among out letters of introduction there was one to a gentleman
who now came alongside, expecting to find his wife, who however
having remained behind at Malta, thus left her husband free to
accommodate us in her stead. By his kind assistance every thing
.was soon provided for our voyage to Cairo, and indeed wb soon
saw all that was worth seeing in Alexandria. And lor the travel
ler who has previously only been in Europe and America it is
truly delightful to look around him in the city of the Ptolomies. Here at lost is something new- Here an order ol things
prevails which is quite different Irom any thing in the west. The
camels, tuiban'd men and veiled women," are. at first sight so" re
markable that though there were no other indications, one could not

203

fail to perceive that the tvpe of civilisation was matrrinlU' changecd from what it U hi the wciL Add to lhse tilings the groves
ol dale palms, the Motesque loiiibeuiions kiui buildings, the sandy
roads and the nmiibeiless Junkies and donkey buys woi:hy of all
praise, and the scene is, upon the whole, most novel and not less
pleasing than it is new.
In the modern city of Alexandria there are not many traces of
ita former greatness. Instead of 700,000 souls which it corrtained
in the reign of Augustus it numbers now not more than 30,000.
And as to libraries and learned men, of trhiclt Alexandria possessed
many bug alter both books and learning hud fallen into disre
pute and been abandoned both at Athens and Rome, not a trace
exists. For to Mohumet AH the present governor, so much lamb J
by the French, we cannot accoid any thing of that noble taste
for learning which distinguished the dynasty of the PtoJoraies, or
indeed much of what many are disposed to ascribe to him. Mo
hamet Ali is a stranger to every liberal pursuit and eveiy noble
principle. Still, Egypt owes him much. In fact be is a great man
of a certain kind; and strangely unites in one heart the charactciistics of the savage and the diplomatist. He is nt heart a cruel
and a tyrannical man. But he is also on fit occasions capable of
the most fascinating refinement of conduct as the following anec
dote will prove. A Lily whom he allowed to be introduced to him,
(for he is no stickler for the Mohomedan regime) thinking per
haps to Hatter him, said that she had a locket in which there were
two locks of bail the one of Napoleon the other of the Duke of
Wellington and that she was very anxious to possess a lock of
his beard to put up along with the others. To this courteous speech
the self-possessed Pacha who most probably despised the Lady
and her flattery, made this most becoming answer " I am not a
great man" said he " like Napoleon and the Duke of Wellington
but if I become great before I die, I shall leave it in my .will
that you are to have some of the hair of my beard." In ibis way
he got rid of the lady's importunity somewhat more civilly than
Napoleon who in answer to the eulieuties of a lady (Mudainc de
Stael ?) whom he had expressed his readiness to oblige and who requested
to be honoured with his miniature, put his hand into his pocket and
presented her with a five-franc-piece !
Our time in Alexandria spent, we embarked on the Mahmoudee
canal for Atleli, a village where the- traveller enteis upon the
Nile in ascending to Cairo.
The hanks of this canal present
little that is interesting to the traveller. It is a very bad piece
of work as might be expected liom the forced manner in
which it was dug outin a few weeks I believe, and by the death
ol an immense number of the labourers. The great object of the tra
veller is to pass along as last us possible. Tracked by hultes we
accomplished the whole in about 10 hours, a parly of our fellow
travellers who bad put themselves under Mr. VVaghorn requiring
nearly 30 to do the same, by the aid of his airungetnents.
Early next morning on board a canjah belonging to the Pasha

204

with a crew of six men and the rais or commander, we were on

ihe Nile. The night was perfectly still. The waters of the noble rivet
were gliding down like a liquid mirror towaids the sra ; and we
could nut very well uiid'-istaud how we were to ascend the stream
in a barge which seemed designed lor twenty passengers instead of
two. It was the choice of the kind friend however to whom we
had the introduction already referred to, who accompnned us all
the way to Atfeh, so that we were neither in a position to complain
nor to suggest any thing different frm his choice. Meanwhile we were
delighted to liud ourselves on the broad bosom of the river of Egypt,
mid we nailed anxiously for the dawn that we might see what soils
of objects lay around us. The howling of dogs all ni^ht assured
us that not the village of Atfeh only but the whole country, was
well peopled, hut we longed to see it. And now having seen it we
must confess l|iat the banks of the Nile are very seldom pleasing
to look upon. The river is indeed all that one could wish the Nile
to be, and lh,e valley, or rather the plain, which it traverses is as
line a plain as possible, lint what neglect of agriculture ! what
wretched villages 1 what squalid poverty and degradation of their in
habitants ! Under an enlightened government and with a practible
population the valley of (lie Nile might certainly be agaiu all that
it ever was in ancient times. But except heie and there, where
some Franc encouraged by the security of life and property (which
it is Mahomet Ali's glory to have established in his dominions for
forei'jiters) has cultivated a farm of two or three hundred acres,
the whole may be said to be lying waste, the richness of the soil
1 e ng indicated only by the rankuesg of the thorns and thistles
avid othet weeds which it produces. The sight is truly distressing.
Is it not most painful to think that there should be such a combi
nation as the finest climate, the richest soil, and yet the people the
poorest that can be ioiagiued ? Tims it is in Egypt, under the
u.astevly hut yet grinding tyranny of Mahomet Ah. The ancient
inhabitants of this once favoured land were even at the worst so
much better than their neighbours that they were admitted into the
congregation of the Lord in tlje third generation, while tha others
were debarred till the tenth and twelfth, or even for ever, but now
they are the must degraded, the lowest ol the low.
Among the beautiful features of the climate of this once favoured land
here is one of which we experienced the accommodation even the first day
we were there. During the greater part of the season the wind in the
i alley of the Nile blows Irom the north, that is up the river.
In consequence of this vessels going up to Cairo may almost
count upon a fair wind, while those that are coming down
are certain of the current in their favour. We soon caught the
breeze that has beoi referred to, and to our no small satisfac
tion we found that our canjah though so disproportionate in size
to the number of the passengers, sailed beautifully over the stream;
and even when it fell calm, as it did every evening, and the crew
j lied their oars to the pleasing chant of Salami Sala or leaped on
shore and towed the canjah along, we made such progress as con

t 205 ]
tertted us ; and never did we spend a time more dreamy or more
pleasingly inviting to sacred contemplation than those sunny days
and moon-light nights which passed over us when we were on the
Nile.
What added to the pleasure was this, that we were told
to expect only what was annoying. And indeed we were at first
very much annoyed to learn that we had not only to procure s
ship and crew hut also cooking utensils as well as provisions and
servants lor the voyage. But these things once provided they
udded niuch to our eniertuinmeut by the way. Ali M^istapha our
servant though in person a rude snbstitude for Elias whom 'we had
in that capacity in Greece, was a master of all works. And al
though his communications, as to the store of provisions he was laying
ir) sounded at first rather alarming, yet we soqu found that it was
only his English ;h;ii was ruinous to his meaning, and not his
purchases to lis. The first day for instance, when we were passing a
Village, says Ali " we must go on shore here to get some eggs and
milk" " very good Ali" said, we ''. and while you go to get the
eggs and milk we will tajce a walk, through the village" accordingly
we all went qn shore, hut Ali was more successful in his purchases,
th. hi we were in the gratification of our curiosity, for the village
proved to be so abominably dinv that a lady could not venture
into it, and \ nearly suflered severely through my ignorance; for on
seeing a large barn-like building with a number of natives looking
downcast on the tloor on which they were silling, 1 was curious to
know what they were about, and entering in, excited such a burst
of indignation that but for the friendly assistance uf one of them
near the door who ciicd out to me in Italian to be gone as last
as possible, J know not what might have befallen inc. When I
went out the man that spoke Italian followed me, and Irom him I
learned that I had trepasscd into a mosque when they were waking
a dead l>ody, a deadly tresspass in a $Vonk I believe, but that ill
Egypt the Tear of Mahomet \\\ might go further to protect a Foreigner
than the honour uf the original Mahomet to destroy a christian.
We were now in the boat waiting for A}\ when he was s,cen
coming down the sleep bank on which the village stood, carrying
a large tliatlee full o,l milk, and a basket on his arm. For the
milk however one appetite was (juite gone after what we had seen
ol ihe village. We were glad therefore to remembet the eggs ; hut yet
liol a linie taken by surprise when, on askiug whether he had not
any, he answered " yes Sir, two thousand !" On his shewing his
purchase however we perceived, he meant two. dozen. And often
afterwards we enjoyed Ali's blunders, iu a similar manner, for he
never was at a loss lor English, thpugh the words he knew were
not more numerous than liie eggs, he had bought.
At the next village when we went ashore there happened another
of these lillie incident in the enjoyment ol which alter all, much
of the pleasure of travelling consists. While we were wandering along
the bank of the river (Ali being now bent on the purchase of
million) two young Eyyptiau women came up _to us each with a

206

little vase on her head and cymbals in her hands, which when they
Were beside us they began to boat, standing -in the attitude of Curryalides to which the vases on their heads obliged them. What they
warned we could not make out. But by and bye we found that
they wanted me to hold out my hand to them. On my doing
So, one of them took the little vase from her head and alter,
working up into a fit slate a black pigment which it contained
she began to design a curious diagram on my wrist. This done,
she took out a little instrument formed of two needles lied toge
ther with their points about an eighth part of an inch apart and
so guarded that they could not pierce too deeply, and then began
IH prick in tile black pigment into my skin. Very Hide of this
sufficed; yet we were pleased with tlie encounter, especially when
we observed that these enchantresses had the edges of their eyelids
blackened with aome srti't of powder in imiiation of fine black
eyelashes, as is so frequently charged in the sacred writitigs against
vain woitlen in the east from the days of Jezebel downwards.
What with the uliexiingtiishahlc interest of the fiver itself, the
objects on the banks and such little advetitures as these, our pas
sage up ihe Nile passed very pleasingly away. And but that we
Were afraid of being too late at Suez to catch the Bombay slealiiei I do not think we should have been so anxious as we were
lor the end of lite voyage. In the month of March when we
were there except a small grey cockroach ( which immediately on
its appearance we vdted a clean creature) insects were not trouble
some. And ever afterwards, we found it possible to escape, at
least in a great measure from their annoyance, by trusting more
to our plaids we bad biought with us from Scotland than to tha
blankets and divans ol the Hotels and Rest-houses.
On the third morning we were Called out early from our cabin
which Was on the level of the 'deck, to see what the ttais called
Gizeh, and on looking up the Nile, into the extreme distance we
saw three Pyramids of which the highest, as we after wards learned,
was the great Pyramid of Cheops. This sight made ns long more
than ever for the end of one voyage. How provoking to be in
Egypt and not to ascend the Pyramids! Yet such is the appre
hension to which the overland traveller to India is sometimes exposed.
In out case however it was an apprehension onlv. as will appear
from our next, our concluding communication which it is proposed
to continue in the same gossippy style which has been adorned in
this, in the hopes of carrying the reader through a series of papers
which must by this time be rather stale.

t fctt ]
Nates from tyomt*

nature and quality that the best thing

one can do is to say nothing about
them. In 1614, the Bibilingraphy ex.
dibits 731 : one hundred rears later,
628; in 1760, about l.OWj in 1780,
2,115; in 1814, above 2,500; in 1816,
3,000; in 1822, upwards of 4,001';
anil in 1827, more than 5,000 new
works. In 1814 to 1831, Germany
produced 84,000 new work, among which
were 6,000 novels ; and from 1880 l
1837, the total amount is 55.318;
namelv, in 1830, 5,920 ; in 1831 , 6,380 ;
in 1832, 6,92i; in 1831, 6,320; in
1835, 7,146; in 1836, 7,529; in 1838,
7,R9I. Divided according to states,
there were published in the last men
tioned year in Austria, 4JI ; in Prus
sia, 2,169; in Saxony, 1,342; in Ba
ScPPltESSTOU Ot riAT-HOBKES. At
varia, 889; in Wiirteinburgh, 609; iu
the lime (1580) when the citizens of
Hanover, 177 ; in Baden, 263 ; In the
London petitioned Qileen Elizabeth to
two Hesses, 263; in Holstein, sixlyoppress the playhouses, which was eigbt ; in tire four Saxon duchies, 309.
accordingly done, there were piny houses
At a meeting of the London Medi
l the following places : In Grarechurch-streot, BishopS'gatc-strect, one cal Society, Dr. Blake stated, that he
Dear St. Paul's, one on Ludgate-hill, was able to cure the most desperate
cases of toothache (unless the disease
and one in vVhitefriars.
was connected with rheumatism) by
The Woe ink which appear* to he the application of the following remedy
growing into general favour, is, in part,
to the decayed tooth: alum, reduced
composed of one of the most poisonous to an impalpable powder, two drachms;
substances in nature that is, prussic
nitrous Spirit of arther, seven drachnuj.
aVidthe ink being a solution of the
Mix and apply them to the tooth.
pigment called prussic blue, which is
On the other side of the Rhiue
compound of pmssiate of potash and
iron ; this ink, therefore, must be a there are 200 leagues ofrailroads either
very dangerous article in the hands of already hroucht into use or on the
children as well as grown people, who point of being so. Further undertakings,
are in the habit of putting their pen some of which have obtained a guar
in their mouth in order to cleanse it. antee of the minimum of interest, will
It is snid that one drop of this acid, afford conveyance by this means to
in its pure and uncombined state, when the extent of 400 leagues mote within
put even upon the nose of a rat, is suffi a few years. Of the lines finished, or
near being so, those in Holland run
cient to cause its immediate death.
30 leagues, Prussia 5\, Austria 50;
(iEIlMAN Litebatobe. The progress
Bohemia 18, Bavaria 18, Saxony 3D
of literary productions in Germany dur Frankfurt- Nassau and Darmstad II,
ing the last two centuries and.1i half
Brunswick, 2$, Duchy of Baden 4
has been truly surprising. In the year
leagues. Most of these roads have
1589, there were published in that
only one line of rails.
country 362 works, mostly of such a

NeMow's Mokumekt.The ubcomSittee have contracted with Messrs*

rissel and Peto for the erection of
the Nelson pillar, in Tr&vafgar-sqnare,
Tbeir tender was the lowest. The
erection is to he of granite, and is to
be finished in two years. The cnniihittte have postponed deciding on the
statue to he placed on the top of the
pillar for six weeks, expecting in the
meantime a very considerable addition
to the funds. The pillar is to be SO
feet higher than the Duke of York's
column, and the figure of Nelson will
he without a cloak. The Commissioners
of woods and Forests intend to complete
the square in a style becoming the
site of this splendid monument

I 208 J
ff&e atf)err.
fiKM.oTMKNT. Tf tlie Christian can- finement' We stimulate our patatM
Dot glorify Goii by serving others, he with wine, that we may relish mo*w
knows that he has always something food; and then swallow more food,
to do at home : some evil temper to that we may relish more wine:
correct, Home wrong propensity to re *' We swallow firebrands in place of food,
form, some crooked practise to straight- And daggersofCreteareservedusfoTcott.
fectiona."
ru. He will never be at a loss for em
And this is feeding, according to th*
ployment, while there is a sin or a
improved
method
accordhut
to
the rule
aiisery in the world? he will never
Ve idie while there is a distress to and regulations of refined society ! Why,
tho very hog that revels in the red
be relcived in another, or a corrup
tion to be cured in his own heart. garbage of the shambles all hog, tatt
We have employments assiuncd to us beast, obscene, and filthy as he is
for every circumstance in life. When is, nevertheless, not beast enough for
we are atone. We have onr thoughts this! What difference does it make,
to watch: in the family, onr tempera ; in in the true spirit and very reality of
companv, our tongue*. Honnnh Mure. the thing; what real difference, I say,
rt.MiTiE9. As no calamity is too d.s it make whether you force dow*
great for the power of Christianity to your throat more food than yon want,
by means of a glass of wine, or by
mitigate, so none is too small to ex
means of a long stick, as they cram
perience its beneficiul results. Ihid.
Heath. Light, and wet, and wind, Norfolk turkeys ? " Th rose, by any
other name, would smell as sweet;" and
and cold, and noise, are what are enu
merated among the discomforts of life. cramming is cramming, call it by what
But these, and the like of these, are name you please, and effect it how job
the natural whips and spurs which keep will.Letters to Brother John.
Abstibditikb. To attempt to borrow
the living actions, as it were, awake:
they form a part of man's natural con
money on the plea of extreme poverty.
dition: they form a part of the means To lose money at play, and then fly
which n-ttnre has contrived to keep up into a passion about it. To ask the
the activity of the machine to prevent publisher of a new periodical how many
its going to sleep, like a lazy horse, copies he sells per week. To ask a
when he no longer hears the whip, or wine merchant how old his wine i.
feels the spur. These discomforts, as To make yourself generally disagree
they are called, are to he considered able, and wonder that nobody will visit
as so many incentives to exertion ; for yon, unless tbey gain some palpablo
by exertion they not only fat len*t, n.\v;>ntiiiri' by it. To get drunk, and
many of them) cease to be discomforts, complain next morning of a headache.
but become real pleasures. What, for To spend your earnings on liquor, and
instance, can be more delicious than wonder that you are ragged. To sit
tjie bright and frosty freshness of the shivering in the cold because you won't
air to the active skater? What more have a fire till November. To sup.
luxurious than water to the athletic pose that reviewers generally read more
trimmer? According to I>r. Fordvcc, then the title-pae of the works they
f it is an universal maxim in the Black praise or condemn. To judge of peo
Art that is, the art of cookery ne ple's piety by their attendance at
ver to employ one spice, if more enn ehurch. To keep your clerks on mi
be procured." Now, pray open both serable salaries, and wonder at their
your eyes, and mark the object of robbing ynn. Nut to eo to bed when
this;" the object, in this case.'" says you are tired and sleepy, because " it
be, " being, to make the stomach hear is not bed ti*ie." To make your ser
a laree quantity of food without nausea." vants tell lies for you. and afterwards
So that the object of modem cookerv he angry because they tell lies for
Is, to cram into the stomach as much themselves. To tell your own secrets,
as it can possibly hold, without being and believe other people will keep
sick. Said I not well, when I called them. To expect to make people ho.
modern cookery the " Black Art." Yet nest by hardening them in a jail, and
thi i is one of the elegancies of modern re afterwards sending them adrift without

209

the means of getting work. To fancy

a thing is cheup because a low price
is asked fur it. To say that a man
is charitable because he subscrilies to
an hospital. To keep a d"g or a cat
on short allowance, and complain of
its being a thief. To degrade human
nature in the hope of improving it,
To expect that your trades people will
give you long credit if they generally
see you in shabliy clothes. To arrive
at the age of fifty, and be surprised
at any vice, folly, or absurdity, your
fellow~crealure.s may be guilty of.
Kandian Scessuy, We halted dur
ing the heat of the day on the brow
of a hill, beneath a clump furuicd of
a shady pecpul and fragrant Champaka, from whence we looked buck to
the pointed peaks of l.akagalla and
the country beneath it, now fast lading
in distance ; all the lower landscape
being rendered more iudUliuct by our
elevated position, aud the quivering
of the heated air that played on the
sunny space around us. The trees of
Buddha form one of the most beau
tiful . characteristics, and one most com
monly met villi in travelling through
the Kandian country ; thev are gene
rally of ureal age, ttllj guarded from in
jury by superstition: their huge trunks,
caverned by ti.nic, seem appropriate
emblems of an ancient worship. Two
or three lerrraces, built up with stone
and filled with earth, surround the sa
cred l'.o tree; contiguous to which, and
often coetaneous, the sapu fChumpaka)
entwines its branches amongst the boughs
of the peepul. On every side of these
terraces are raised rough miniature
temples of stone, about two feet in
height, including the little cupolas with
which they are surmounted. It is
scarcely possible to imagine a more
pleasiug or innocent picture of simple
religion, than pilgrims, passengers, aud
particularly family groups of all ages,
even little children, otferiug their liandfuls of flowers. Neither is there any
difficulty in procuring these, the purest
material, flVrings by which man at
tempts to propitiate superior power;
for here the champuka sheds its scented
flowers, bunches of gay marigold or
flittering chrysanthemum gild the ter
races, and delicate Jessamines and de
licious white rosi'S twine around or
strangle through thq stiff Avuria, com
pleting the appropriate decorations of
these rude altars aud sylvan memorials of a religion of peace.

The blue haze, that in a cold cli

mate softens the distant landscape only1
in the noon of u tropical country
spreads over every purl of the scene,
blending its beauties with a dreamy
aud enchanting soilness. In the pre-,
sent instance lhe*e beauties were en
hanced by Hit * ethereal mildness'"
arising from the elevated situation of
the place, and aniple shudc of the trees
unucr which e rested; whilst the
blue hills and suicii of rich meadowgrass, served to recall impressions and
view s, certainly less beautiful, but still
distinct lu memory, although ina country
long since It'll, and then far distant.
Ehvrn yrars ia Ce^/otf.
{iowevcr sniull may bo a man's in
come, there is one very certain way
of increasing it that is by frugality.
A frugal expenditure will enable al
most every body to save somelhing ;
and as there are now established Ihmughout this country Bunks, where the in
dustrious may salcly deposit their
savings, however lillUi they may be,
and receive the sivuie sort of advan
tage which the rich derive from their
money, that is, interest, there is every
inducement to make un ciibrt to save.
Dr, franklin observes, in his usual
kncible way, that '* six pounds a-year
is but a Lioat a-day- for this lulls
sum, which may be daily wasted, ei
ther in lime or expense unpereeived,
a man of credit may on his own se
curity, have Ihe constant possesin,
aud use of a hundred uud twenty pounds"
Many bumble uien in ugluud bavs
riseu to wealth by such small begiu.
nings ; bul uianv more cuntinuj to ex
pend the grout a-day unnecessarily-)
and never cease lo be poor.
I he sea !
No, not for beauty's self! Uie glorious
sea,
Where L ugluud grasps the trident of a
god,
And every breeze pays homage to ber
fla ,
And every wave heart Neptune's choral
nymph?
Hymn with immortal music England's
name!
Forswear Ibe sea! my bark shall bo
our home ;
The gule shall .haunt our bridal nielodies ;
, The stars that light the angel palaces
Of air, oui lamps ; our floors the cbryjtal deep,
[pass ;
Studded with sapphires, sparkling as wo

2,0

Our roof sill Heaven! My beautiful, my

own !
Never did sail more gladly glide to port
Then 1 to thee ! my anchor is thy faith,
Ad in thine eyes niy haven. Suiter.
IXFiDELiTY. It is amidst trials and
sorrows that infidelity appears in its justcst and most frightful aspect, Mheu
subjected to the multifarious ills which
flesh is. heir to, what is there to upbold our spirit hut the discoveries arnj
the prospects that are unfolded to
us by revelation? What, for this pur
pose, can be compared with the belief
that every thing here below is under
the management of infinite wisdom and
goodness, and" that there is au imniortality of bliss awaiting us in another
word? If this conviction be taken away, what is it that we pan have re
course to, pn which the mind may pa
tiently and safely repose in the seatson of adversity? where is the halm,
which may apply with eflect to my
Wounded heart, aftef I huvp rejected
the aid of the Almighty Physician, ?
Impose upon me whatever hardships
jou please; give me nothing but the

bread of sorrow to ea,t; my confidence, i

lay me in the cold hut of povcrlyi
and on the thorny bed of disease; set
death before me in all its terrors dp;
all thisronly let pie trust in my Sa/i
viour, and " pillow my head on tha
bpsom of Omnipotence," and I vt\\
"fear no eyil,"-r-I will rise superior
to aflliction,T-I will ". rejoice in my
tribulation." Hut let infidelity inter.
Sose btwecn God and niy soul, and
iaw its impenetrable veil over a fu
ture state of existence, and limit all
piy trust to the creatures of a day,
and all my expectations to a few yean
uncertain as they are short ; and how
shall 1 bear up, with fortitude or with
cheerfulness, under the burden of
distress. Or where shall I find one
drop of consolation to put into the
bitter draught which has been given
nie to drink ? I look over the whole
range of this wilderness in which I
dwell, but I see not pne covert from
the storm nor ope leaf for the healiug of my soul, nor one cup of cold
water to refresh me in the weariness
and the faintings of my pilgrimage.
Andrew Thomson.

Extvattti from $ta'fo9ttal*.

PnoGRESB or Socth Australia !
" Four years ago, the. wild silence
of the shores of South Australia was
only broken by the occasional scream
of the gaudy-plumxged parrots in the
woods, the flocks of wild fowl in the
creeks, or the gentle ripple in the brook.
The very few natives, who had picked
up a scanty and miserable subsistence
on the gleanings of that beautiful coun
try, whose simple minds were scarcely
more intelligent than the kangaroos
which their forefathers had taught llieni
to chase, or the hull'-suvuge dogs with
which they hunted, exulting and lux
uriating in the enjoyment ot mere ani
mal, existence, had scarcely seen the
nif".- of a white mun, or deemtd that
such existed, much less thnt while men
could ever ho expected to come amongst
them. At the momeut Rl which we
write, at least 15,000 white people
have taken possession of their country.
The banks of the Torrean lmvB Leen

transformed from a valueless wilder

ness into a bustling and thriving town
of seven hundred houses, the site of
which is worth from 100 10 1,500
per acre, and are joined by a bridge.
lit with lamps. Scarcely a ship had
been then seen to cleave the waters
of the South Australian gulf, fiineIj-seven ships of 21,232 tons burden
entered the colony in IbJS; and even
u greater number, ninety-nine ships
of 21,10!) tonnage, were counte I at
Fort Adelaide within the fir'al si,c months
of l&yy. The powerful agencies tlmt
llritish enterprise is capable, of puttin^ in operation, are wsible in the
ti8,i;<K) sheep which are now extract
ing wealth ft oui the pastures ; the 6,2.30
cows and oxen, and 520 horses winch
are now stij, plying food and labour to
the enterprising settlers, who are ex
ploring every crevice and cranny of
the country. Nearly all the circum
stances h-.Iore quoted from the euro

I 211
nology of New South Wales have lot)<
since taken place in South Australia.
. A church, a VVesleyan and other chapels,
three newspapers (two, at least, con
ducted with considerable talent), a wellorganized police force, a mechanics'
Institution and reading room, courts of
quarter sessions', petty sessions of the
magistracy, courts for the recovery of
debts under 2(1, a supreme court for
civil and criminal trials by grand and
petit juries, a coroner, a market, races,
public balls, and public meetings,
are advantages which the South Aus
tralians have been fortunate enough
to enjoy alreadv ; and it speaks much
for their liberality and intelligence,
that within four days no less a sum
than 1.000 was raised by subscrip
tion for the foundation of a college
which should provide first-rate educa
tion, and thus supersede the. necessity
of sending the children from India to
Great Britain for that purpose." Far :
Quarterly HerifU),

solitary consequence.
The change*
which have been effected in society by
such causes, are Indeed 'infinite; -taM
it cannot be doubted that these havfe
exerted, and still exert, a collateral in
Uut-nce over the derooaratic impulse
itself; sometimes directly assistiug in
its extentiun and increase, and some
times modifying and even moderating
its activity.
There is nothing connected with this
sentiment more remarkable than its
total absence among the nations spread
over large regions of the earth, and this
too during loop series of aees. As fat
as history records, tho idea of selfgovernment seems scarcely to have been
conceived, till it arose in the. bosom*
of the Greeks: end our author has
justly stated, that the very term de*
moeracy, as applied to the republics
of Greece and of Home, was a misno
mer ; the pervading spirit being exclusive
and aristocratic, and the majority of tho
people, so far from possessing political
To Obtain aky Ncmbkr op Copies rights, being slaves iu the widest sense
of the word, vassals of the minority.
I HIM AX ALREADY K.NORAVED COPPER
It is> clear, therefore, that the power
PLATE. A copper-plute may be taken
to conceive the notion of equal govern
engraved In the common manner, the
ment, and of combining the means of
lines being in intaglio. Procure an
equal-sized piece of sheet lead, laj effecting it, is dependent on carlaiu
specifiu externals for its activity.
jr on tho engraved side of the plate,
Taking the matter tip after the down
and put both under a very powerful
press; when taken out, the load will fall of the Il'Uiian empire, and the
reconstittition of the European popula
have every line, in relief, that had
tion, we caunot but perceive that tha
heen sunk in the copper.
A wood engraving may be operated geographical face of the countries in
which the wanderers fixed their habita
on in like manner, as lead, being
tion, was influential on their social
pressed into it, will not injure It.
destinies. This circumstance, combining
A wire may now be soldered to the
lead, then bed it in ft box, and pot with the rude impatience of the northern
it into the voltaic apparatus, when a racos under the closer restraints of
law, was favourable to the establish
copper-plate, being an exact fuc-smile
ment of small independent governments,
of the original will be formed.
to the multiplication of centres of civi
In this process, care must be taken
that the lead is clean and bright, as lization, and to a great division of
political forces. Not remotely connected
it comes frotn the roller in the mill
ing process, and consequently free from with this state of things, were the birtb.
any oxidation, which it soon acquires, and growth of maritime commerce, and
a consequent creation and dissemination
if exposed to the atmosphere. It should
of a new species of wealth, distinct from
be put in action as soon as possible
that resulting from landed property, and
after being taken out of the press- Mesubjected to their laws. Concurrently*
ch<mic's Muyuzitte.
with these causes, we discover the great
The tendency of mankind to desire Christian principle of the equality of
a free government, like any other phe
all men before God, awkening new
nomenon, is not self-begotten. It has thoughts ; while by establishing in so
not started spontaneously into beiDg, ciety a corporate body, Irom which no
but haa been gradually developed dur temporal rank, however humble, was
ing many centuries, by a series of excluded, and whicTT ruled by a"aupecausa*, of which that feeling is not a riority of knowledge, it promoted the

212

domination of moral ideas, fostered a

lore of justice, ami popularized those
general conceptions, which are at once tho
inspiration and the guarantees of free
government. Subsequently, in the order
of time, came the discovery of the New
World, the invention of printing, and,
its first-born offspring, the Reformation
in Religion ; to which, as to its most
proximate cause, must be assigned tho
developement of that more sublimated
democratic spirit, which distinguishes
the modern from the ancient world,
and which is the immediate theme of

M. do Tncquoville's lucubrations. Tie

philosophy of history in tracing the
series of these complicated events, dis
covers the closest connexion between
the progress of the abovementioued
causes, and the progress ot liberty. The
history of liberty, and "the history of
civilization, are indeed one; and the
imputed democratic spirit of the age
is but tho summing up, into one point,
of the particular desires and instinct*
awakened under the several conditions
by which civilization exist3. Athencum

THE TRADE OF CEYLON.

(From the Ceylon Qocernnunt Gazelle.)

Goods imported into the Port of Colombo during the quarter ending
I Oth October, 1840.
Articles

from

Great Britain British l'ossess

Bullion
1,108
Brass Ware
71 3
Cotton Goods
20,632. 1 G
1024 8
Crockery
Halu and Millinery.
1,863 2 9
Malt Liquor
6
Iron
1,373 | 8) . Machinery k. Tools
1,152 7 1
1,471 [14 II
Stationery
Wines
;..
4,534 10 Rice
.
Paddy
Sundries*
8,174 21

:i

Total

46,621 7

30,412 -'943176
25,320 1 45
15 660, -7
4lo'26r 39

10 da-

148
627
18,865
951
4827

Foreign.

>

1,701

1
117

tt

1*

>
!

it
'

fl

-4
1069
138

5,611
135
227

4 15- i
13 3

82,45011-

7,676

310

Total.
31820
1015
47655
1039
1923
4920
1637
1162
1619
5161
24476
1087
13229

1
2
14
I
34
46

a
i
14
184
1419
99

136,748 27

* Arms, Apparel, Books, Cutlery, Gunnies, Provisions, Perfumery, Saddlery,

Spirits, Sugar, &c. &c.

Goods exported from the Port of Colombo during the quarter ending
10th October 1840.
Articles

to

A rrai-k
AiTi'.kauuts
C'inuamou
Coffee
Coconut Oil
Bullion
Sundries*

Great

Britain

British

p0aess

1897
2,782

7, 4

438
19
969
2,028

4|4
6 3
16'
II 7
14 6
-! 10 7

Total 31,132 12 3

8,136

2 3

4.617
16.067
7,801

I3| 6
18 7
1210

2,61.5

For:

Possess.

242
222
Hi

7191 1
1,200 4 9

Total.

1 ,89
3,094
4,d7!
16,52'.
7,821 7 4
96!
5,36'J I8jl 1
40,I6KI9 3

Coir Rope, Cocoanuts, Gunnies, Horns, Rico, Precious Stones, kc. &c.

213

STATE OF THERMOMETER AND WEATHER AT OOPEW'ELLE,

NOVEMBER

DECEMBER 1840.

ELEVATION 2,. Oil FEET ABOVE THE SEA.

Dale. i a. h! Nook. S p. At.

Not.

7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
16
19
30
SI
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30

70
71
70
72
71
71
72
71
70
69
67
68
67
68
69
69
70
70
69
70
70
69
68
69

74
74
73
74
74
73
73
72
71
76
75
74
74
75
76
76
74
74
74
72
74
73
75
76

72
73
72
73
72
"
72
71
72
74
73
72
73
73
74
73
73
71
71
72
73
72
72
73

Heavy rain all day.

69
68
70
69

76
75
74
74

74
74
73
73

Foggy , rainy morning, bright calm day,fine clear evng.

69J

74
76
67

72i

Average Thermometer.
Maximum
do.
Minimum
do.

Showery, nilTd with occasional breaks of son.

Bright morning, heavy showers and clouds A.M.
Fine clear morning, rain commenced at 3 p.m.
Clear bright morning, rain commenced 2 p.m.
Dark morning, rain all afternoon.
Cloudy morning, very hi iivy rain all day.
High wind 4 a.m. cloudy and rainy all day.
Cloudy morning with showerf, fine a.m.
Bright morning, fine clear day, light breeze.
Clear bright morning, no breeze, bright calm day.
Bright calm morning, bright sun Sc calm all day.
Do.
Do.

heavy
do.

dew

do.

do.

do.

do.

do.

A slight fog at Sunrise, after bright sun all day.

Brgt. calm morning fine duy, heavy rain in the evruj.
Foggy at sunrise cloudy day

do.

do.

Dark rainy morning,sun shine with occasional showers

Cloudy morning, over-cast and showery all day.
Dark rainy morning, showery all day, fine evening.
Fine morning, sunshine & showers, clear evening,
Bright clear morning

do.

do.

Bright clear morning bright day, light breeze do.

Do.

light breeze, sun, occasionally overcast do.

Dec.

1
2
3
4

Bright calm morning

do.

do.

Foggy at Sunrise, bright &clear, heavy shower & fine.

Bright clear morning, clear sunshine &calui.

[uvqg.

214 ?]

METEOROLOGICAL JOURNAL KEPT ON THE HUNASGIRIA

RANGE OF MOUNTAINS, AT AN ELEVATION OF
NEARLY 3,000 FEET.
Range of
Tlier: at

Prevail
ing
Winds.

Rain Fali
in
of
Inches lit n

PREVAILING WEATHER.

DateSa.m|3p.ii
No
M.ltil 64^

67-

bea
'.v.

N.byE. Fine clear, day &ni|>ht moderate breeia.

T. 17 6d

68

Do,

N.N.E.

w,18 65

67

Do.

N.E.
Do.

Do. Weat&er.
Fine weather, light breeze.
Do. Weather.

1. 19 65

6m

Do.

r. 20 64

67

Oo. ;N.E.byN.Fiue clear weather, moderate wind-

a. 21 65

87

S.22 65

6H

Hi! 65

Do.

Do.

Da.

Var.

67

1,700 Do.

N.E.

Showery morning, heavy rain r. if.

T. 24 64

67

-,150 Do.

Var.

Showery morning, fine dry night.

w.25 64

66

1,150 Do.

N.E.

Cloudy morning,

T. 26 64

66

Do.

Fine cloudy day and night.

. 27 64

66

Do.

Do. wind and weather.

Cloudy with haze.

heavy rain p.m.

-,050 Do. N.E.byN, Light showers, moderate wind.

a. 28 64

66

-,20O Do.

Do.

Fine morning, lain p.m.

8.29 (il

66

-,130 Do.

Var.

Light showers variable winds.

v. 30 64

66

-,120 Do.

Do.

Do. Weather.

Pec.
64

67

-.100 Do.

N.E.

64

68

-,500Do.

Do.

>n

67

-,100 Do. N.E.byN. Li;ht showers with haze & strong breeze.

64

68

Do.

N.E.
Do.

Showery day and night.

Do. Weather light breeze.
i

Fine clear day and night

6 61

71

68

Do. |

8. C 65

71

68

Do. N.E.byN. Fine clear, day and night.

M. 7 64

70

68

Do, N.E. by E.'Cloudy with huze and strong breeze.

T.

8 61

69

67

,-

Do.

N.E.

Vf.

9 65

69

66

l.lCODo.

Do.

T.

10 64

70

68

-,50O Do. N.E.byN.

*.

11 65

71

68

-,250 Do.

B.

1? 65

70

68

Do.

Var.

Fine day with strong Variable winds.

s.
-

IS 64

70

67

Do.

N.E.

Fiue dry and clear day, light wind.

t.

Max:
1

71

Win:

64

. 1

Tar .J -

Var.

Do. Weather, strong breeze.

Heavy showers day and night.

Fine day, rainy night.
I)0. Weather light wind.
Light shower a.m. fine night.

XV. A.
Total

AI

7,050

Iluiiatglria, Dec. Uth, 1S40.

215

DtARY KEPT IN THE VAI.E OF DOOMBERA NEAR KANDY.

1840 From November 14 to 21. This wek has set in Willi quite a change
from the weather of last week ; misty cool mornings for the first two of three
days, with bright hot weather every day, and dry light breezes from the
S. W. and N. E.
Thermometer average.68. 6. A. M. 77k 2. p. X. 74s 8. p. m. A moderate
quantity of Dew falls every night.
OperationsOn the younger Estates and on those which can spar* men
from Coffee picking, clearing the plantation, nurseries &c, from weeds but on
Ihe Estates in bearing, besides picking his Coffee berries, the planter has bceu
very busy drying his parchment skin Coffee for which the fine weather of
this week has been very favourable.
From November 21 to 28.This week, again, the weather has changed
from the dry, hot, bright weather of lost week, to cloudy days and frequent
showers, with a toft culm state of the atmosphere* Light variable brevzea
generally from the N. K.
Thermometer Average.72" 6 a. m. 76

2 p. x. 74" 8 r.

m.

Operations. The same as last week but of course it has not been so fa
vourable for drying Coffee.
The appearance here of the Coffee plantations, Sugar do, and all tegotatinn from Paddy-fields to jungle, is very beautiful, and at this period of the
year, more than that of any other, they are clothed in their richest foliage at least
on this si<> of the country It is so, and arising, as it does no doubt, from
the satisfactory rains, which are always to be depended upon here, at thia
season, and from the calm bumied state of the atmosphere, without those
violent squalls of wind which accompany the S. W. monsoon, is highly be
neficial and favorable to tbo productions of the Coflee plant.-Utly in giv
ing the tree vigour In bring its fruit to perfection at the time it most requires it,
and 2ndly in giving it strength to recover from the consequences of such hard
work, and to get ready for the. time when nature once more requires its serviros.This must be particularly the case with cultivated trees which are
made to produce to their utmost possible extent, nor should pruning, lopping
an I han lliiiir in m.ilKration bo for . itten by the planter, to assist them.
From November 2ftb to December ith. Generally fine this week, and some
times hot in the middle nf the day, but on the whole the climate has liecn
mild and serene, with a light cloady sky and gentle breezes from the North
East.
Thermometer Average.72 6 a. x. 76 2 P. x. 74 8 P. X. Dew falls
every night.
Operations.Continue the same as last week.
From December oth to 12/*.A continuation of the same weather as last
week, fine and moderate but nearly every night there has fallen heavy drwa
or light rains, which caused the morning to bo cool and misty, until the
sun rose Wind has always been from the N. E.
Thermometer Average,70 ~ 6 A. X. 77 9

2 r. a. 7J 8 p. X.

Operation.!.Continue the same, and notwithstanding gathering in the crop

has been going on in full force during the past six weeks and ther has been
no lack of Laboryet some estates here are computed nut to have gathered
in two thirds as yet, and one or two not more than half their crop, indeed from they
general full blossom which came nut in the end of March last on this sida
of the country, all the trees appear to have brought on their full quantum
of fruit to one general ripening, as nothing but berries in a dead ripe state
are to be seen on every side. Coffee allowed to ripen on the trees iu thia

216

state (where the trees are sufficiently vigorous to bear it) is said to be pes
aessed of a higher degree of flavour than when gathered at the time the
berry is just turning red
Of the Mocha Coffee such is supposed to be the
case, where the fruit is gathered after it has falltn on the ground.
Health.The country on this side may be said to be in its usual Btate ;
Europeans are all well aud the coolies appear free from the disorders pre
valent some time ago.

ERRATA.

Wo. rv.
Page 136, line 9, between the words, "autltor of," and "Iliad," insert 'the.'

138, 8, between the words, " because]' and " thee," insert " of."

141, 12, for "goots," read "goals."

No. V.
Page 177, Hue 23, read thus:
" Tempt not the Lord thy God.

He said and stood"

COLOMBO:
WIS TED AT IHt UtBALD PAlSt.

f)t

CEYLON MAGAZINE
No. VI.

February, 1841.

Vol. I

THE READER.
'
No. VI.
Hilton's paradise regained.

Omne tulit punctual qui miscnit utile dulci,

Lectorem delectando, pariterque mora ndr.
Herat. Be Artt Pottta, 343#
IMITATTOK.

Profit with pleasure happily combined,

At ouce to please, and to instruct the mind.
Anonymous.
Tt is a vulgar error that the Art of Poetry is " light and
fugitive." It is, on the contrary, that which is the most compre
hensive and profound of all the accomplishments of the mind of
tn. in. Moral truth is ly none so perfectly taught, because by
none is it so perfectly understood, and penetrated to its most secret
rcccsess, as by the true poet. That a mete versifier is a poet, is
unquestionably an error ; but the process of thought, which is evolved
by poetry-, is the Very petfection of all science, that is, moral sci
ence. Great therefore as are the masters of mathematical science,
they are not the greatest minds. "Nekton,"remarks a very pro
found thinker, "was a great man; but you must excuse me if
I think that it would take many New tons to make one Milton."*
Mathematical science may discipline the mind, but it is not mind ;
it is without. Like logic, it assists the reasoning faculty, but is not
reason. "Both" (to use the language ol an accomplished mind) "are
* Coleridge's Table Talk.

218

r:nt cKTommoilalions to defective mental powers; and substitutes

for a more compendious way of coming at truth, via. iiuuilinn.
This is a higher faculiv than reasoning: the aislhtsh of the
Apostle, Phil. I 9, or that spiritual discernment, spoken of, 1 Col.
ii. I4."f
This intuitive power is- " the vision and the faculty
divine" of die true poet. Hence, while the world lasts, such
names as Homer and iEscbvlits, Virgil and Horace, Dante and
Tflsso, and our Shakspcore and Million, will stand foremost in the
rank of great minds. They will he the peipctttal fountains of
delight and instruction. Trnly therefore, as well as beautifully, sings
our modern philosophical poet, whose own taculties are of the high
est order of the human intellect:
" He terreS the muses errineiy and ill,
Whose aim is pleasure light and ragttrre :
_
O that my mind Were equal to fulfil
The cemprehensne manJate which Ih'y fic*t
Vain aspirations of an earnest will i"
Worditrorih.
I would partially illnstrate these remarks by further quotations
from Milton's Paradise Regained, of which I extracted one splen
did passage in nty last essay. I shall select such passages as
will serve fur illustrations both of the windom and the beauty of
the poet's mind : for after beauty and truth were bis constant as
pirations from the beginning of his career. This might be shown,
were this the proper place and time, from his early fmuiiiur
letter^ " Rphtolae familiartt" particularly to bis friend Diodati.
He has ever ambitious of greatness and excellence; and be sedu
lously sought the beautiful in all things.
The dignity and simple srthlimity of the first Imps of Paradise
Lost, and the devoutly sublime invocation to the Holy Spirit have
been the, suliject of frequent and just admiration. The opening
i)l Paradise Ilegained is similarly, though not perhaps equally
fine.
" I who ere while the happy garden sting
By one man's disobedience lost, now sing
Recover'd l'aradise to all mankind,
By one man's firm obedience fully tried
Through all temptation, and the tempter foil'd
]u all his wiles, defeated and repulsed,
.And Eden raised in the waste wilderness.
J 1 1 on Spirit, who ledst this glorious eremita
Into the desert, his victorious field,
Against the spiritual foe, and brought'st him tbenca
By pronf the undoubted son of God, inspire,
f Bii-liop
Knox 10 [}.

J ebb.

Thirty years

correspondence.

Letter LV1II. to A,

[ *1

As thou art wont, my prompted soug else" mule ;

Aud bear, through height or depth of nature's bounds,
Willi prosperous wing full suuini'd, to tell of deeds
Abo.ve heroick, Ihouyh in secret done,
And unrecorded left though many au age;
Worthy to have not retuaiu'd so lung unsung."
(B. I. 117.)
The summons of Satan lo " all his mighty peers in mid air,"
is justly admired by ull persons of taste. Suddenly stricken with
amazement and fear at the JJiviue inauguration of tbe Messiah,
01 Lis baptism, be,
" With envy fraught and rage,
Flies to his place, nor rests but in mid air,
To council summons all his mighty peers,
Within thick clouds aud durk tenfold involved,
A gloomy consistory, and them amidst,
ir.'l/i looks aghast and sad, he thus hespahe.
(B. I. 3943.
How fine tbe contrast with that splendid passage of mock mngnificence and affected triumph, with which the same Allien and haugh
ty spirit " displayed his proud imaginings," at the opening ol the
iu leimil council, in tbe introductory lines of the, second Book o
Paradise Lost.
" High on a throne of royal state, which fan
Outshone the wealth of Oinius and of Ind,
Or nhere the gorgeous cast with richest bund
Showers on her kings barbaric pearl and gold,
Satan exalted sat."
The comparison of these two wonderfully fine passages of the
two poems will show the pitlecl propriety and beauty of each.;
and that neither sorters by ihe comparison, because each is in its
proper place, and each speaks in a suitable tone and temper. The
vnuisgtused sadness and n.eluneholy ol the clest-JabVn " .Ad vet bai'y"
iu the Paradise Regaiucd ; his confession that the Messiah's
" Growth lmiv to youth's flower, displaying

M\ virtue, grace, and wisdom to achieve

Things highest, greatest, multiplies feur ;"
(B. I. 6669.

that
" in

his face

Tlic glimpses oj his f'athei's glory shone,"

that these and other circumstances made him "see their danger on

220

the utmost edge of hazard ;" all these are such exquisite and touching
pictures of despair, that the contemplation of the entire passage, rspccU
ally in conttast with the vaunting character of the similar one in the
Paradise Lost, raises the mind to the highest conception and admira
tion of the wonderful powers of the 1'oet, thus almost to excite
out interest in the fate of tbat Evil One, who alji rwards, with deep
remorse and deeper subiilty, calls himself " ibat Spirit unfortunate."
But the moral is equally fine with the att of i:-is great master
as a poet: tor it is impossible to feel anything like true coropasion, bat the utmost abhoirence of the fraud and malice of the
Devil, which he exhibits as the poem proceeds.
The mind and style of the author of Paradise Lost are recog
nized in the folluwiug lines at the breaking up of the council of
demons, when
"Unanimous they all commit the ears
And management of this main cnterprise
To him, their great dictator, whose attempt
At first against mankind so well had thrived
In Adam's overthrow, and led their march
From hell's deep vaulted den to dwell in light,
Regents, and potentates, and kings, yea, finds')
Of many a pleasant realm and province wide."*
li. I. Ill 118.

The excellence of this passage, like many ttf the finest parts of
Paradise Lost, consists in the nerve and plainness of the language,
and its perfect destitution of figure. It is like fine, simple, aud
solemn music, the notes of the deep toned organ, loo grand to
admit of the added sound of minor instruments. Of the same
chatacter is the affecting confession ol Satan when discovered through
his disguises by our Saviour. It is a line lesson on the eternal
misery necessarily [entailed by sin upon the Enemy ot man.
" 'Tis true, I urn that spirit unfortunate,
Who leagued, with millions more in rash revolt,
The perfect passage which is th parallel to that in the text, in Para
dise Lost, beginning with the noble climax, followed by the most melaucholt
conclusion, is perhaps the finest in that mighty poem.

" Godlike shapes and forms

Excelling human, princely diginities,
And powers lluit erest ill heaven sat on thrones ;
Though of their names in heavenly record now
Be no memorial, blotted out and razed
By their rebellion from the Book of Life."
(P. L. B. T. 358-36.'!

221]

Kept hot my happy station, but was driven

With them from bliss to the bottomless deep,
Yet to that hideous place not so confined
By rigour nnconniving, but that oft,
Leaving my dolorous prison, 1 enjoy
T.ui-^e liberty to round this globe of earth,
Or range in the air ; nor from the heaven of heavens
Hath he excluded my resort sometimes."
8. I.

358-367.

There is something profoundly affecting in the confession of misery,

thus wrung from this Spirit of inveterate evil, who, by a stroke
of melancholy self-deception, too common to erring spirits among,
men, terms himself " unfortunate," when he was voluntarily wicked.
I have heard that it has been said by a great modern Poet, that
he could never read without tears that celebrated passage of Paradise
Lost, in which Satan, struggling with his feelings, sheds " tears such
as angels weep," ere he could deliver bis sentiments to the assem
bly of revolted angels. * The same kind of emotion, in a yet higher
degree, is excited on the perusal of this confession before uu in
finitely more awful presence than of
" Millions of spirits for his fault amere'd
Of heaven, and from eternal splendours flung
For his revolt."
P. I.. B. I. 609.
There is a yet finer passage of a similar character which we shall
hereafter cite, in the third Book, of which there is also a paraile!
one in Paradise Lost; but in this instance the pussage of Paradise
Regained will be found to be the finest, f
Satan continues his apologetic speech to our Lord in the most
artful and insinuating style, lie mentions how he
" C'ume among the suns of Qod, when he
Gave up into his hands t'/./.rnn Ji>b,
To prove him and illustrate his high worth.
B. 1. 368370.
He boasts of his "drawing the proud Ahab into fraud :" and
he adds a fine, yet reluctant, eulogitim on goodness and virtue.
" Though I have lost
Much lustre of my native brightness, lost
* Thrice he assay 'd, and thrice, in spite of scorn,
Tears, such as angels weep, burst forth; at last
Words, interwove with sighs, found out their way."
I'. L. B. I. 619.
t Compare P. R. B. III. 204 with P. L. B. IV. 108.

' [

222 - ]

Tn be' beloved of God ; I have not lost

.To love, of haa contemplate and admin,
filwt / see excellent in pood, orfair,
Or virtuous ; X should n have lost all scifse."
B. 1. 377382.
He then insinuates His desire "to see and approach whom he
knew declared, the Son of God." He alleges that although he was
"thought a foe to all mankind," he was their friend ; a-jd boasts
of his services to them. \iy the consummate art of the Poet this,
boast becomes bis cond^muatiou. He proves himself to be ibe grand
Deceiver of men, as lie was of their progenitors.
<* I lend them oft uiy aid,
Oft my advice by presages and signs,
And answers, oracles, portents, urid dreams,
Whereby they may direct their future life."
B. 1. 993396.

He ends very finely by confessing that, though he might

^Gain
Companions of bis misery and woe ;"
This " fellowship" alleviated not his pain ; and that, it was" small
consolation to ruin man ; lor it. " wounded" him to reflect
"That man,
Man fallen shall be restored, I never more."
The first part of our Lords leply to this artful siwjcd of Satan
IS too hue not to be cited.
" To whora our Saviour. sternly thus replied:
Deservedly thou jjrievest, composed of lies
From the beginniai:, and in lies wilt end ;
Who boabt'sl release from hell, and leave to come
Into the heuveu of heavens: thou comest indeed,
As a pooj miserable captive thrall
Comes to the place where he before had sat
Among the prime in splendour, now deposed,
Cjected, emptied, gazed, impiticd, sluinn 'd,
A spectacle oj ruin, or of scorn,
To all the host oj heaven : the happy place
Imparts to thee no happiness, no joy j
Rather inflames thy torment ; representing
Lost bliss, to thee no more communicable,
So never more in hell than when in heaven."
B. 1. 406420;

There are two species of excellence in the art of poetry, in which

Milton is etutneutly skilled. These are the exu.ubite melody al>d

t 22& J
euphony of some ofliis most delirious passages, and the pictuijcsqnc power
ol his descriptions. Homer and Virgil, liis great precursors, were masters
of the various melody of versification, as of other and mightier powers. Bui
the fullness and almost infinite variety of the Greek language, nod
the strength and melody of the Latin, rendered the achteviment of
tierfectiun In melody and variety of verse comparatively easy in those
beautiful languages. Milton conquered the difficulties of a modern
irregidar language ; and his verse itself is scarcely inferior' even to
those mighty masters, with all the superiority of their several Ian*
euagcs. In the picturesque, among modern poets, Dante is per
haps preeminent. Our Chaucer is also a master in this species
of painting, notwithstanding the antique structure of his dialect.
Spenser is full ol it. Milton has furnished very perfect specimens
of both these excellencies of the art in all his poehis. Paradise
Regained is not deficient of them. I will conclude with one spe
cimen of melody from the first book, and shall reserve my extracts
from the other books to a future essay. The difficulty of attaining
to truth, and its sweetness when attained, were perhaps never more
beautifully expressed than in the following exquisite hues.
" Hard are the ways of With, and rough to walk,
Smooth on tho longer discoursed, pleasing to the oar,
And tunable as sylvan pipe or song."
B. 14?8480.
The first line lahonrs like Sisyphus rolling his stone np the bill.
In the concluding vtrscs the flowers laugh in the valleys, and the
birds sing, as in the groves of Arcadia.
B.
SONNET.

(Written at the end of Paradise Regained. 1833,)

" He unobserved
Home to his] mother's house private returned.
Concluding lines of Par. Regd t
Thus ended the blind Bard his second song;
A song with sacred eloquence replete,
With wisdom overflowing, and as sweet
As the lust voice of evening borne along
By the cool breeze ; sublime in thought, and strong
As when man held his unaltempled seut
In Paradise, or when the indiscreet
Yet lovely Eve was tempted by the tongue
Of the false fiend to taste the f.ilal fruit.
The Bard hath hung np his melodious lute,-i
As on the weeping trees of Babylon ;
Death impotenlly hovered o'er his head.
But ere the spirit from her mansion fled.
Blight immortality around him shone.

224

Engliaij Sntijologg.

XIV.
The hiid.il is over,
The pageant hag past,
Thy fortunate lover
Has won thee at last.
And now I may tvandor
All sadly and' lorn,
And silently ponder
On joys that are gone.
On happiness vanish'd,
And fleeted away,
And hopes that are banish'd,
To die and decay.
On love unrequited,
Devotion unpiized,
On agony slighted,
And passion despised.
Once beauty was shedding
Its light upon all.
And secretly wedding
My heart to its thrall ;
And fancy was weaving
lis fallacies sweet,
I joy'd in believing
The lovely deceit.
Now Earth is all sadness.
And ple*snre distress
And love is a madness
Words cannot express
The blood in its motion
Seems wildly to fly,
Like waves of the Ocean
When tempests are nigh.
Thy smile still may brighten,
Thongh grief it has made J
Thine eyes still enlighten
Both sunshine and shade.
Though banish'd be never
The pang and the pain,
Farewell and for ever,
We mct not again.

2vJ

225

XV.

1 hear, I hear in the distant west,

An echo Irom many a far-away shore,
On the wings of the breeze ihai is sinking tfc rest,
On tire bosom of ocean whose toiling is o'er.
It floats along
Like a Syren's song,
Bol nearer it seems
The speech of some monster amidst his dreams ;
: Or the words of a giant awoke, from his sleep.
Hush ! Hark ! 'tis the voice of the mighty deep.
*
*
*
#
. #

I come, I come from all countries nd climes,

All kindreds and ages, all nations and limes.
I come from the tomb of departed years,
And I come witli smiles, and I come with tears.
Long e'er the span
Of mortal man
Was meted above, 'twas given to me
The great globe to lave,
, With my Testless wave;
And onward I roll'd,
All uncontroll'd,
. Like a child nt play, nn fetter'd and free :
And my cradle was rock'd in Eternity.
From my home atar,
I saw the first star
Burst forth into light,
On the brow of night.
I-vaught from the moon her "young virgin ray,
Which 1 wooed and won with my laughing spray.
And the kindling sun first smiled upon me.
All gorgeous and bright,
Fiom his throne of light.
On the morn of bis birth,
To come rrpon earth.
He took his red -way thro' the -paths of (he sea.
I've seen all this, and more since then,
That has pass'd in this restless world below,
I've seen how the fallen children of men,
,Haye drunk of the -wormwood cup of woe.
I've seen the last of a sinning race,
In .at)ger swept from the earth's fair face :
Ttvas I, even I who in anger went forth,
Heaven's weapon of wrath ;
And I left no trace
Thro" the word's wide space,
C 1

226

Of those fearful men save a chosen few.

Whom I bore unharm'd on my angry breast,
And wafted in peace to a borne of rest.

Age after age roll'U on and I saw,

Kneeling in tears on my desert shore.
An exiled people, whose voice wus woe,
For they saw their foe
Advance in the pride of his kingly might.
With chariot swift and belmel bright,
To fetter once more the limbs that were free :
But Israel's king was greater than he.
The cry of Jacob's sons ascended
Where prayer of man ne'er vainly rose :
And Israel saw his cause defended.
His children saved from angry foes.
The word went forth and lo ! I gave
A pathway thro' my stormy wave.
Thej' pass'd along,
With grateful song :
But when the haughty king had driven
His chariot midst the feiier'd wave,
My task was done, my chains were riven.
And Israel's Hope was Egypt's Grave.
The gilded banner, the gorgeous crest,
And the glittering mail on the warrior's breast,
Were things of nought, and the clang of war.
And the neighing steed were heard no more.
And Egypt's king and Egypt's pride,
Beneath my fatal wateis died.

Time slowly told

The years that roll'd
Through space into Eternity :
And still my waves
Swept o'er the graves
Of sons of hail humanity.
There came on earth a being of grace.
So fair a form the woild ne'er saw :
Tho' mean his guise, tho' meek his face,
He spoke as man ne'er spoke before.
The moon was up and in beauty shone,
On my chrystal wave, where all alone
The man of sorrows in meekness irod,
And iny waters felt and owned their God.
The world was still and darkness hung
, Her munile o'er the hours of nijjht ;
uy- One lonely star in sadness flung

O'er earth its sof| and feeble light.

227

Across the seas a fragile hark

Flew swiftly on before the gale 3
And all around its form was dark,
Save the while foam and bursting sail.
The storm wax'd fierce the waves ran high,
And on their breast the frail bark toss'd,
From whence arose a fearful cry,
" Save, Lord ! Oh ! save, or all are lost."
He rose in meekness and his hand stretch 'd forth ;
He spake the words of peare, and lo, the wrath
Of bowling winds subsided at his will,
And the wild waves lay awed, subdued and still,
*
*

*
*
AH this I have done and heard and ssen,
Wonders that earth never knew, I ween :
I've drunk the best blood of the heroes of yore :
I've su epl the proud town from its fortified shore ;
Th' adventurer's bark in my blue arms I bore,
All dauntless and proud, a new world to explore.
I saw the Armada go forth o'er my wave,
"Jo fetter my children, the free and the brave :
But I laugh 'd at their madness and found them a grave.
I come, I come with music and song,
Then list to me as 1 rail along.
Sons of earth be not so proud,,
Look, look at my waves they are stronger than ye:
My sparkling spray may be your shroud,
For my storms are but toys to one mightier than me.
Children of men are your eyes so dim,
Or your hearts so hard, that ye see not him,
Whose mercy and bounty all good things gave,
Reflected in love on my chrystal wave ?
And see ye not in the stormy night,
In the winds and waves his fearful might ?
O ! yes, weak man in the tempest hour,
Is not slow to feel and own his power.
Ed. C. M.

828

Original Conrepcnrjcnrt.
A MECHANICS" INSTITUTE FOR CEYLON
TO THT. BOITOS 0* THE CEYLOX MSGAZ1VE..

Sl,Will you permit me to offor, through the medium of' jour pages, a
few remarks upon a subject which must be considered as of importance
to this Colonythe intellectual improvement of its rising populationfor 1 cooceive they cannot have a more Cuing plaoe than In the " Ceylon Magazine
one of the avowed purposes of which is " to give a higher tone, to our co,
lonial literature."
Much, very* much lias been accomplished by the Colombo Academy and
the Pettah Library, but unfortunately the finances of the latter are in
such a state as to materially circumscribe its sphere of doing good:
while from the benefits of the former many youths are debarred by being
forced at an early age to go forth and labor with the bands instead of with
the mind. Now it has occurred to me that much of this evil might be obviated
by the formation of a " Colombo Mechanics' Institute" on a scale as compre
hensive and as cheap as those so universally and beneficially established in
the mother country, I need not remind you, or your readers, of the very re.
cent formation of Mechanics' Institutes, under the auspices of Lord Brougham
and of their rapid extension throughout the united Kingdom, nor need I call
your attention to the immense benefits they have conferred on those who, from
their occupations and station in society, were otherwise* debarred from intel
lectual relaxation and improvement I mean the Meohanies and ArtizansMauy of the London and provincial Institutes possess libraries of some bundred thousand volumes besides valuable collections and models of Machinery'
philosophical instruments &c. yet are supported by annual subscriptions of hu
a few shillings. In so small a colony as this we cannot hope to effect any
thing similar, yet by union much might be done, as much, indeed, in proportion,
as in the splendid London Balls of Science.
I would propose that an " Institute" be established in connection with 'he
Fettah Library for the purpose of delivering courses of lectures on every branch
of art and science : its' footing and consitutinn I leave to those who may
deem it worthy their consideration, I would merely observe that a very trifling
subscriptionsay one rix dollar per quarter would with ICO or 150 members,
be sufficient for the maintenance of it when once established.
A public meeting should be called and a subscription set on foot among?
both Europeans and natives for the purchase of Books, Mechanical apparatus,
and Philosophical Instruments, and I have -little doubt hut that the civil and
military residents would liberally support so laudable an undertaking: the Go
vernment might also be requested to aid it by either money or a building for
the purpose.

. [ ' 229 . ]
, With regard to lecturers there 6tirely must be sufficient amongst the Euro
peans and Ceybmese : and as to auditors, the man; government and rocrcanlile clerks who toil through the heat of the day at their desks, would I
am confident, quit io

the evening all light and frivolous

relaxations to hear

amusing and instructive lectures on History, Commerce, Geography Botany,

the Mechanical Arts, Music &c. &o.

Hoping that these few hasty observations

may lead to some good result,

I remain, your's truly,
Lanka.
O'lnmhn, January 1st, 1841,
[We think that
more than

" Lanka's" hints should be considered.

we at the

None would rejoice

consummation of his wishes : when the time arrives,

that Ceylon can boast of a " Mechanics' Institute" we shall be found among
the first to promote its' welfare by every means in our power, Ed. C. M-]

BRIEF NOTICES OF THE TOETS, PHILOSOPHERS &c

OF THE TAMILS.
Br Simon Casie Cbittt, Esq. (Continued.)

80.

Kvmnro Gvrv.

This

individual was horn

Tinnivelly district, about two hundred years ago.

at

Strirygimtam,

in the

He established his fame

M a poet while yet a child ; for it is reported that when he was only five
he composed a hymn called Kali Vtnbn, in praise of Stibrnmani/a, the deity
of the temple at Trkhcndoor.

Like most of his countrymen, he was of the

Seica profession and having entered the Alatnm, or monastery at Dhurmapurnm

at a very early ago, he assumed

the habit of Ttimbiran, on head ascetic.,

in winch capacity he continued till

his death.

Besides the juvenile produc

tion already alluded to, lie was the author of thirteen

poems, of which his

last one entitled Aidi iini Vilukkam, consisting of 102 stanvas on moral sub-,
jeets, is considered

the b-st, and has been

translated, into English by Mr

Stokes, of the Madras L'hil (Service.

The following selections from his Midi neri I'ilalkam may

not be found

uninteresting.
" Learning at first painful, will afterwards afford pleasure.
ignorance and extend knowledge.

But the pain

lived pleasure of immoderate lust, is

great,

It will destroy

which succeeds to the short

O thou

adorned with perfect

jewels !
"Learning, however extensive, will be useless, unless there

be discretion

to display it in the proper place; and even then, without the power of lan
guage, of what avail is it ?
fragrance.

With that, it is a fiWer of gold

that possesses

280

" The learning of those whose frame Iremiles with diffidence before the
assembly, Ihc frivolous loquacity of the ignorant wbo feel no awe in the
assembly, the wealth of those who do not conscientiously bestow alms before
they eat,and tlyt merit of a poor man, are things, the absence of which is
better than their, existence.
"The learned need no other ornament than the excellence, of learning,
Nothing ii wanting to adorn an ornament perfectly set with every precious
Gt--.uo. Who would beautify beauty itself?
" Contemplate those who are poorer than yourselves, and' rejoice in the
greatness o( your possessions. Contemplate those who are more learned
than yourselves, and destroy all self-conceit, exclaiming what is a", our leant'
jng to these ?
,.

.
" To praise oneself in, order to. attract admiration, Is. like feeding the flam*
with pure water. Is not the absence of self- admiration that which is to be
admired? Is not happiness freedom from the desire of pleasure?
" For him who de4ir.es much notice from others, there is one a.-t of pe,
sauce which he must never forget to practise : continually to dwell upon all
he merits, aud conceal the defects of others; and to address all with humility.
" There are none who understand every thing. Exult not in the idea that
your learning is universal. The rock will give way to the small chisel of
the mason."
3). Toyumiita Swami,, so named from the deity of the temple at TrichLnopoly, in which city he was born about one hundred and fifty years ago
in the reigu of the King Chokalinaa Xaiktr. In his childhood he was con,
signed to the care of a fameus preceptor named Manna, Zcsigar^ who bestowed
on him a learned education besidea initiating him into the mysteries of the
Fcrff". On tbo death of his father, who was minister of state, the King pro
moted him to bis post; but becoming religious as be advanced in life ho
quitted it and retired into the Ramnad country, where he fixed his residence,
and spent the remainder of his life in devotion. Amongst bis poetical com'
positions, the most reputed is a collection of metaphysical pieces under the
title of 1'iru/ifiadcl.
32. Arun&safa Kariraycr. a dramatie poet was born at Tilliady, near Tranqueuar about 1705. From his fifth to his twelfth year he studied Tamil at
the school of his native village and afterwards, in consequence of the death
of his parents, he placed himself in the Malam of Dharmapuram, where
under the tuitiou of several ascetics he acquired a knowledge of the Sans
krit and Telegu languages. Being married in his thirteenth year, be com
menced business as a banker ; but soon after abandoned that profession to
devote himself to dramatic poetry, and produced the Drama of Rama Chandra,
which has secured for him a lasting celebrity. He died at Shterkaly in his
sixty seventh year.

231

RECOLLECTIONS
0 A

GOVERNMENT EMISSARY,
COMPILED BV THE EDITOB.

CHAP. III.
JBeau Brummell.
The Militia. Anecdote of Sir W. Curlist
Ministerial fears.
Visit to Vidocq. Parisian Thieves. The
French Galleys, and their morale.
About this period (1803) ray duties brought me in frequent
contact with the then celebrated Bean Brummell, the ftiend and
companion of the Piince. I was much struck with his eccentri
city ol manner, which however, amidst all his peculiar nonchalance
bever was other than courtly in extreme, and in his dress he was cer
tainly preeminent both as regarded taste and variety, yet I could
tool help regarding him as a species of Court Jester rather than
as the frichd ot the heir apparent. Brummell was of very plebiau
extraction and could not brook any allusion to his ancestry. His
grandfathei was originally a domestic of Lord North's who in his
old age procured for him the situation of porter at the Treasury.
His son (the Beau's father) having a supeiior education obtained
a clerkship in the Home Office and amassed some money by
speculations. Young Brummell went into the army at an early
age and by good fortune happened to be the officer on iniard at
Carlton House wheh the Prince wanted somi; one to accompany
him to Windsor. No one was in the way and Brummell look the
seat by desire of the Piince. His gentlemanly, gracclul manner so
won his loyal companion's favor that from that night he was estab
lished in the friendship of the Prince, and soon took the lead at
Court where he supplanted Lascelles the then Beau. When I
became acquainted with Brummell he bad fallen into some slight
disfavour with his royal friend in consequence of his inconside
rate behaviour and intolerable rudeness. A great deal more was
however, laid to his charge than the truth. One of the many
exaggeiated stories was that of his desiring the Piince to ring the
bell. Brummell assured me that he did not say ' George ring the
bell," as reported, but that when asked to do it by II. R. H. who
was engaged in conversation, he very inconsiderately replied " it
is close to you Sir." The Prince did ring it, but it was to desire
the attendant to order Mr. Brummell's carriage.
From 1803 until the peace in 1814 I did not leave tbe King
dom. During that period however I was far from idle. Political
events, both at home and abroad, were thickening and throwing a
gloom upon the prospects of England. Hostilities were recommenced

[ 232

with Frane, now "an Frop; re ; Napoleon was every wbcie victorious}
our Austrian Allie* were defeated, Spain and Portugal appearej w
be all but lost to us, an immense army at Boulogne threatened at
daily with an invasion, and lastly the domestic prate ol the roontrr
vai ibaken to the centre by discontent and rioting. The militia,
w:is every where put in requisition, and in the southern coi niies
the greatest diligence and regularity was observed in training the
" l/ocals," for it was universally believed that Napoleon would at
tempt a descent upon our shores. I was enrolled in the " Surrey
Volunteers" under the Duke of Cumberland as Colonel, and Lieut .Colonel GaitftkeU, the latter of course doing all the-- lag. Our Re
giment was eventually one of the most efficient in the country,
for we had excellent officers, and the entire body was of a su|K-rior
grade. I had in my company as privates, many young men who
have since risen to great eminence in their several professions.
Our head quarters were on Clapham Common and it was pretty
shai'p work for some of us who had to fag at our desks from ten
till four, and then ride out to evening drill, and back again to
dinner, besides having to be on parade at day-break. There used
to be considerable grumbling, particularly during bad weather, for
it was no joke then. After the first year however, we got together
a mass and were altogether more comfortable. We had rare fes
tivities at times, when our Colonel invited a few choice spirits to
join ws, for we were mostly young men. It would be tedious to
recount the many frolics and adventures of those days ; one anecdote,
however, I must relate for t do not think it has ever been mad
public. Sir William Curtis was one night the guest of onr Colonel,
and the conversation happening to turn, as it often did, upon drink
ing, the latter said that he was sure Sir William drank as much
as any llirev of us and that what he took that night would fill a
two gallon pail. The Knight merely laughed and said nothing, but
the Colonel asked me to have a pail placed under the sideboard
fend to desire his servant to watch Sir William and whenever be
drank a glass of anything to throw a similar glassful into the pail.
This was done, but before the evening was half spent we both ob
served that the man failed to put anything into the pail. The
Colonel called him and asked why he neglected to do it. " Please,
Sir," was the answer, " the pail has been running over these ten
Tuimttea past!"
During the disturbances in 1810 11 we were compelled to keep
a guard under arms night and day, at our depot where we had
about 600 stand of arms and 20 or 30 barrels of gunpowder. Bat
even that precaution was considered insufficient: and so little con
fidence in the militia did the government feel, and so alarmed were
they at the riotous proceedings of the people, that on the eve of an
unusually large meeting on Kennington Common, Mr. Beckett,
Home Secretary, sent onr Colonel an order to remove the arms, &c.
to Woolwich if possible, or at any Tate to take off the musketlocks and keep them in safe custody. Being on guard at the
time -I iras commanded to put ttc order in execution. Removing

233

600 stand of arms to Woolwich whs an impossibility and I at once pave

up the idea. But to unscrew the lucks was a task equally diffi
cult, particularly as I had not the armourers with me and but a
few hours to do it in. I determined, therefore, on my own res
ponsibility to content myself with mibcrewing the cocks only, which
cad the double advantage of being equally to the purpose and of
being accomplished in a very short space of time. They were put
into powder kegs and marched off to the Colonel's house ; but the
ammunition he would have nothing to do with. There was no
time for debuting, so I placed die 30 barrels of gunpowder in carts
and taking a file of men in undress, escorted them to my own
house in Vauxhall: there they were placed in a loft under the
roof, no one, not even my wife, knowing their contents. I kept
them under bolt awd bar but must confess I sometimes felt a little
uneasy about them. They remained there until things were a little
more settled, when they were conveyed to Woolwich Arsenal, much
to my joy. From that period to the disbanding of the Volunteer
Corps in 1810, we never kept more than a few rounds a-piece
in our own depot.
During the hundred days of peace I determined to take a holi
day and visit my old acquaintance Vidocq in Paris. Hitherto I
had only met him in the hurry of business and longed to see and
converse with him in the retirement of his family circle. Besides
I might be able to gather from him some information which could
be turned to account hereafter. I arrived in Paris about the end
of July, in the very midst of the gay season. The capital was
crowded with Huglish who having been shut out so long by the
war, were making amends for their absence by spending their
money in the most profuse manner. I found Vidocq in very com
fortable quaiters, with a nice house and an agreeable wife, and in
the enjoyment of a very liberal income, Ho pressed me to stay
with him but I preferred living alone, and visited him when it
pleased me. I was much amused with some of his exploits which
he related to me, both in Espionage and Fripoimerie, for he had
begun his career in the Cour Jo Miracles, and it was his as
tonishing talent as a thief which brought him to the notice of the
police. Some of his achievements certainly appeared more like those
of fabu/ous history, than of every day occurrence in the nineteenth
century . The deeds of Dick Turpin and Jack Sheppard were mere
child's games of hide-and-seek compared to them. Fouche soon saw
the real value of the man and lost no time in buying him over.
lie was then in great and deserved favor with the Prefct, under
whose orders alone he acted, lie told ine that his wife was of
great service to him both in gaining secret intelligence and playing
double to him, and that without her some of his best things would
never have been accomplished. One night he took me a round of
his old haunts where he was well known, and not less feared.
We first bent our steps towards the environs of the Palais Koyal,
a densely populated quarter, resembling our Saint Giles's, or Kent
D 1

r 334

SiTfrt, through (he streets La Vaiinetie, La Juiverie, Petit Saint

iean, c. In the latter We entered a miserable Carbatet and cal*
leU lor a howl of negus (a wretched compound of hot water, cla*
ret and lime). The low room was crowded with suspicious looking
characters, all carousing in a merry mood ; their motley figures bare*
1? discernable through the dense cloud of smoke which filled the
place. To nearly all of these he seemed well known and addressed'
them by nameWhen I expressed my surprise that he should be
on such' terms of intimacy with these, he laughed and Said that
here all hostility between the fripens and the polite was sunk over'
the bottleit was an understood thitig at these times that no pro
fessional pursuits should be followed by either party ; that in fact
the Cabaret was their neutral ground where they met without re
serve to talk over their |tfots and counter-plots. He said, however,
that although the truce Was never broken on these occosions, yet
he gained much useful information from the thieves when elated
With wine. A knot of outri beings collected round tis and began
gibbering away in the vilest slang, pulling out most enormous clouds
ot smoke from thin, short, black pipes. To my amazement Vidocq rose'
and introduced me to them as one of the most noted English thieves,
upon which they all filled their glasses and drank " le Fripon An
glais." The word was soon passed through the room and I was
overwhelmed with civilities and queries as to the state of the pre*1
fession ill England; our notorious pickpockets and a variety of
others, from which, however, my imperfect knowledge of the language
relieved me ; Vidocq helped me, and gave a long account of the
London Police partly true and partly at hazatd. He afterwards had
a hearty laugh at my delimina, in which I joined.
When we were left more alone he pointed out to me fiuany of
those present as the most expert frfpom in France. 1 was asto
nished to hear such a long catalogue of the profession and bewil
dered by the enumeration of the many grades in it, such as Chettniiet* d'Industrie, DroijtUfs, A*onriugur, Detourneusrs, Empoux'
trim, Hi:. A*c. He related some feats ol these gentry, of a most as
tonishing kind, which certainly give them the pre-eminence over
our own. The greatest of all French thieves was Petit, a man of
most maivellous ability in his dishonest profession. He reigned ab
solute mnnaich of the stronghold of the Parisian thieves, the Couf
de Miracles, and it is even said that he far outshone Vidocq. Petit '
Would have been bought over by government had he been sober,
but no dependence could be placed upon him, and after many most
extraordinary escnjres from prison he died in his own regal
domains. One of Petils roost favorite exploits, and which he per
formed several times, was after breaking from the strongest dungeons
in the galleys at Toulon, to disguise and pay a visit to the keeper,
as a stranger wishing to see the place: he used to tell how the
jailor related to him his escape, ridiculously exaggerated, and how
be described his person, adding that clever as he (Petit) Was at dis
guising, he should not he deceived were he to meet him.
Ot all the French thieves the ''Chevalier a"Industrie" it undoubted

r{

935

ly the most accomplished and interesting. He is ^enr Tally a young

man of good family, who having iun thiouh his properly, and not
Jilting to give up all his accustomed gaities, has recourse lo this
expedient for filling his pockets. Once successful in his idle and
profitable profession and he never reforms. Ytdocq assured me that
there were in Paris alone eleven thousand of these swindlers t NW
inking the average of their daily expenditure at ten francs each, hich
J3 very low, we shall Sud thai this one class of swindlers spend
annually the enormous sum of 70,000,000 francs, the whole of which
comes out of the pockets of the unwaiy public. The peculia r forte of the
Chevalier d'Industrie is the forming of fictitious Banking Houses
with confederates in the Provinces who act as correspondents and honor
their drafts until the smash is made and the bubble bursts.
The Dtogeur is a swindler of a humbler grade. He is also young
and veil dressed, and practises upou good naiuied old gentleman,
nhom he contrives to meet at the Opera C'omiqw, or the Co/eVe
Vampire, by telling a pitiful tale of being fresh Iroin tlj.e country,
losing his money to gamblers and wishing for assistance to enable
bun to quit the scene ol his niisfoi tunes. The tale is plausible and
almost always succeeds.
The Delourneuses are sbop-liltcrs and mostly females ; they dress
in an easy negligee, nil their clothes beiug loo large in order to
facilitate their operations, which are carried on thus: they enter a
boutique and ask to look at some silks or laces, during the inspec
tion of which ihey contrive to drop a piece of one or the ot.htr ;
a confederate euletiug at the proper lime, leading a child, asks for
some trilling article, and while it is beiug sought stoops to play
with her charge, at ihe same moment conceals the article di.opl, in,
the child's clothes. Sometimes the confederate is a beggar and a
sou being throwu to her by the thief, she is enabled, while pick
ing it up, to conceal the piece ol lace beneath her ragged, but
ample garments.
The " Xouxisseur" is generally the most practised of aH thieves:
this occupation consisting in obtaining information to enable his
associates to plunder houses on a large scale, for he himself never
act* in the affair. He lakes apartments in a respectable lodginghouse: dresses well, keeps decent hours, gives a dinner or tuo,
and by making himself agreeable to all in the bouse, soon be
comes acquainted with their means, habits, hours &c. This being
accomplished, the plot commences : if the victim docs not leave the
key of his room in the door when he goes out, an impression is
obtained from it in wax while he is al home. Some tele day ar
rives, and to lull all suspicion the Nottrixseur takes his victim to
see the sights &c. mid during their absence the rooms are entered
and cleared of everything valuable.
The " Bonjourier" is somewhat similar to the preceeding, though
of a more humble grade: like them his malpractises are confined
to lodging-houses, but less scientifically and more economically, lie
enquires ot the Vortiere for some one whom he is certain resides

236

there, and ascends the stairs till lie comes to a door with' a key
in it. He knocks, at first softy, then louder; if "no reply be given
he is sure that the tenant is either out or asleep, he therefore en
ters boldly, but softly,' and pocket's eve*y disposable article of va
lue. If the lodger be in the room he is not disconcerted, but asks
for some one whom he well knows docs not five there. A not
uncommon practise is for several " of these to enter a house with
baskets, as " blanchhseurt," and finding a room open, to fill them
villi valuables, covering them with dim linen as though taking
clothes to wash, and then sallying out boldly ; the door keeper, never
dreaming of what is going on, of course suffers them io pass.
If the theives of France then, are so clever, what must he be who
outwits them all, and is the teiror and admiration of the whole
body ?
On another occasion, when we were conversing on the old
topic, I asked him whether the galley -slaves often leformed on their
release. - He leplied, hardly ever, and indeed if they desired it they
scarcely could, Irom the surveillance under which they were placed,
and which made them known every-where so that none liked to
give them employment. He hoped to see the lime, however whon
this demoralizing system would be abplished, for not till then could
the number of criminals be lessened.
Some years after the above convcisation, Vidocq, actuated by the best of
motives, established a large paper manufactory near 1'nris, in which he of
fered employment to all released convicts of good behaviour, thus affording
them an opportunity of gaining an honest t livelihood and rctreiving their
character. As a proof that there is an inclination for amendment
in many, I need only add that the manufactory is full of quiet,
well-conducted workmen. It were well if this plan, or something
similar, were adopted in our own country, where there are hundreds,
nay thousands, of young theives turned loose upon the town, from
our jails, and who resume their former occupations from habit, but
of whom many might doubtless he reclaimed had they some place
of refuge, a home and a comfortable meal oik-red them.

237

POETICAL SKETCHES OF THE INTERIOR OF THE ISLAND

OF CEYLON, BY THE ret. B, BAILEI.{Continued.)

XXXII.
RAMBODDE WATERFALLS.
Wind slowly round this bare and jungly hill :
Between two wooded mountains runs a small
Ravine at either end a waterfall.
Trace back your steps a little turn and fill
Your mind with wonder at a third : you still
Behold the Fall upon the right,and all
The sight* that from the depths of beauty coll
What can be pictured by no graphic skill
Of pencil, nor by painting, though each hue
Were as ethereal as the light of morn.
An angel's airy pinion, dipped in dew.
Some spots of our fair earth can scarce adorn ;
No human art can give the eye a view
Of things which make our bosoms less forlorn.

XXXIH.
FALLS FROM THE MOUNTAINS.
Lift up your rapt eyes to the utmost verge,
The left and front of those o'erhanging hills ;
You there desciy what scarce show more than rills,
Ko vast their height. Ere long they'll downward urge
Impetuously their waters, as the scourge
Of war that wastes, ex tei initiates, and kills ;
They'll rage, and chair, ntid have their headlong wills.
But now behold them. Gently they emerge,
And from the lofty mountain-heights are seen,
Like " faery waterbreaks," just murmuring ;
But at the Tempest's voice, dttwn the ravine,
As two wild tagles on resistless wing,
Darting from heaven's lone heights upon their prey,
These Falls will sweep along with torrent sway.
* " Glimpses that will maka raa leas forlorn." Wordncortl*

236 }

XXXIV.

THE VALLEY.

Nor linger here. But east your eyes around

This must delightful Valley. Every spring.
Hath its own voice, and tunefully can sing/
At every turn innuroeroiis (alls are Ibumf;
And each sends forth a sweet and mellow sund
Of Nature's music, welcome as the wing
Of slimmer bird at home, to t* Inch we cling
With a fond love. This, too, is hallowed ground ;
Here every liny hird may have its rest,
Unscaretl in these lone hills, and may be heard
Above the Waterfalls, and gives a zest
Even to them : and haply in the crest
Of yon tall mountain of the Indian bird, *
The little songster builds his airy nest.

XXXV.

THE SAME.

Books are not wanted here. I love the lope

Of learned men. Could I nor read, nor write,
JMy life were a mere blank, excluded quite
From the vast world of Mind. But Nature more
I love, 1 feelI dare not say adore.
And they, who live in her all-varying light,
Have eyes more precious than the sense of sight,
Eyes of the miud and memoiy, which o'er
And o'er such matchless scenes can ruminate,
As lie around me in this lovely vale ;
And they who feed devout imagination,-
Though knowing all the evils of our state,
And feeling we are sorrowful and frail,
Di ink deeply at the louut of Adoration.
Tiie Peacock Mountain.

xxxn.
tBfB SAMB.

In towns T am a sluggard. But when here

I rise ere jungle insects cease their cry
That cry all night. 1 cannot close rriy cj
Amid this unseen store of beauty, where
An instant calls up many a by gone year.
Such spots make deeper my deep memory
Of Thee, dear Spirit, which until 1 die
Will deepen still. More often drops the tear.
While I am wandering by the mountain side,
For Thee whom oft I've soothed with Nature's beauty;
And, oh ! it was my pleasure and my pride.
Though thy near fate my boding bosom knew,
A sunbeam shining through (he cloud of Duty,
To soothe thee till thou fadedst from my view,

XXXVII.

REST HOUSE.

In this Small building, with its earthen floor.

There is a luxury that is denied
To sojourners in palaces. Here pride,
If any where, is humbled. From this door
Of rude construction I now feast me more
With splendor and magnificence, allied
To the most touching beauty, than more wide
And bolder scenes afford. While o'er and o'er
I view with fresh delight yon Waterfall,
White-robed, and beautiful, and ever blending
The loveliest light with its most plaintive voice,
I do not want society. 'Mid all
My bosom's grief, those waters now descending
So fair, so bright', my heart almost rejoice.

240 ]

XXXVIII.

CLOUD AND WATER FALL.

Behold that white cloud rising from the bei

Of ihe bright Waterfall. Slowly itsteiilsj
And noiselessly, as though the vapour fuels
Its way to upper air ere it durst tread
The atmosphere. As by a spirit led.
It still ascends in breathless silencereels
Hither and thither but at last appeals
More boldly to its energy and speed ;
And like a sea bird, brooding on the air,
Away on white and cloudy wings it flies!
It veiled the half-hidden fall, and did appear
As a bright shadowy film before the eyes ;
Its spectral form now upward see it rear,
And from the Fail another phantom lis*.

xxxrx.
tA REWELL.

I leave this Valley, not reluctantly.

But with the feeling of a lover tried
By all vicissitudes.
My mental
Which
deemed that under
cope ofpride,
the blue sky
We may bear all things singly now doth sigh
For social converse. Yet 'twere vain to chide
My chosen solitude. And i defied
One day of rain without society.
But grew more humble with the second. Yet
I have seen clouds that fitted by as fast
As insects of the air, and mists as fleet
As spirits of light, which did entirely shroad,With one white, dense, impenetrable cloud,
The Valley for an instantand then post.

841

|3oftfraI ^fertrtx* *r. fro

XXVUt.
" And now before the mind's eye U extended
The billowy ocean foaming In the gale ;
As Voyager* around Hope's rape oft view
A swollen sea of mountain and of rale."
I must IcaTp this to the ihiaginatlan of the' reader,' who ia an attentive
observer of Nature by sea or land. When I passed the Cape, the gales were
to me the -enly pleasure I felt, tile Wily relief T experienced from the
most painful and afflictive voyage or journey (and I have known both) I ever
experienced. Watching over the sickness aad suffering of One. whose memory ia
dearer to me than any living being (Heu quanto minus est cum reliquia veraarl
quam tui meminisse;) with fellow passengers, the pang of remembering
some of whom will never, to my dying hour, pass away from ray mind; my
solitary and my melancholy pleasure was to sit in n safe corner at the ex,
treme end of the stern of the teasel, and to watch the mountain-billowanear and distant, as the ship dipped down to the level of the surface of the
eagulplied ocean, and then bore me np to ah equal height with the next
enormeus billow. The sky, during such gales, Is generally dear, bine, and un
ruffled; presenting a strange contrast, .wit)) Jhe raging sea beneath. The vast
aeabifds; especially the snow-white Albatrosses, hover above the foaming billows
in docks. The light, reflected from the clear blue sky and1 the brilliant sun,
is exactly what I have described -in the resemblance to a fine mountainous
country. The sea is sometimes green as grass, fields of which seem to clothe
the swelling sides of the mountain billows. To give a more distinct nolioa
of the sensations of a voyager in such situation and circumstances, I subjoin
an extract from my journal." I have not witnessed so fine a scene, as the
tea presented this day, since we embarked.
- : " I stood upon the deck,and watched the vivas
Koll after the tossed ship which onward flew
Like a vast soabird whose full bosom heaves
And palpitates with fearwhile clouds pursue;
Driven by storm.
M. S'.-

' l

242

" In plainer prose, tin sc af from the ste.ro of the vessel, appeared one mass
of congregated waters, rolling immensely high, one billow niter ike other, showing
every variety of hill and valley, and every diversity of light and shade.

At

other times, when the sun shone, and the surface of the sea became brighter*
it looked like the undulations of a tiny country, such as
tains of Roxburghshire* In Scotland.

the green moun

Again, the scene changed by a sudden

squall; and the boiling of the ocean, throwing up flakes of foam, resembled
a snow-storm.

Again, it was like a boiling cauldron, as if evil spirits from

beneath stirred up the waters into violent fermentation.

One appearance wu

pre-eminently beautiful. When the sun shone, the tips of the waves reflected
his rays, which showed a light green colour, like the leave* of the
trees Mr spring.
WHid,

budding

Tu complete the scene, imagine the sllip scudding before the

fotlowcd by these mountain witters, as if purstHrd By so niauy ifternle'fc

-er like M vast bird of prey, olnweil by more formidable fues."

XXXlt-XXXtX.
fit ttht falftry rif RamooJJc, where these verses were written on my first
vhtit in 18Ut, 1 spent two' dyys quite alone in the Rest House.

Except t

very early hoof In the morning, and sometimes for a brief while between
184 snu *wfs, wa* eonSned a close prisoner. The humidity of tlie aimos"
pitas' ftr fnw efttef, and almost (Solitary objection to this fienutiful Valley,
is the lanrc hi oilier similar situations in
bi.dde i always a bmrntTfni iSpof.
#<M peculiarly delightful to- me.

all mountainous countries.

ft

Ham

But with my fe'ehngs on my first visit, it

The Falls are very striking.

lacomrs.
Providence

frequently makes wicked men the instruments of good, as a

wise physician usefh poisonous heibs for medicine.

There is no heart however busc, that has not some redeeming quality, as
tbo green herb H e/fosnr sVe'tl springing froth tiny withered tree, or creeping
over the sterile rockv
The Schoolmaster is abroad, preaching a crusade against the infidels
norance and Superstition, to recover the

Ig

Holy Laud of Reason, the Sainted

Sepulchre of Truttf.
Porerty is

more frequently "chid in velvet tfcdUV in SackVlbth, and wealth

dwells less in the palace- than in the hut.

Ed. C. M.

CEYLON MdSS.

The plant, from which this article is prepared, helongs to the

Jlhjee family and is the Kaddel J'cisi of the Tamils, the Agar JJyar
el the Malays, and the Sanction of ifie Chinese. It grows, almost
jnvnrinhly ndlierin^ to the root's and' stalks of the sea weed called
I allele, in the shallow farts of ihe Calpeutvii lake, particularly
about tin1 small islands' opposite to PaHtwttsellorry and blaudakudah.
It is collected at all seasons. . W hen taken out of the water, U is
spread thin upon the ground to dry in the sim, and cm dully weeded.
It is then soaked for a day in Iresh water, and al'lcrwaids washed
and dried alternately, till it is entirely freed from the particles of
weed which adhere to its filaments, and turns white. The whiter
it is required to make the moss the more washing is necessary.
Mosses in general, ri* articles of food, appeaf to have been known
to the inhabitants of tire Malay coasts and China from the earliest
periods. Mr. Davis in his very interesting work on the Chinese,
Vol. II. P. 3(>0, says that "a species ol seaweed or Incus, louiid
on the sea-beach in the neighbourhood oi Macao, is used as a jelly.
It is first steeped in fresh water, and hung up to dt : being then
boiled in water, it acquires, on cooling, tne consistence and appeal &uce of a jelly, and is used with various fruits to form conserves."
The first time the use of Ceylon moss was made known to the
inhabitants of Calpentyn was by a smalt quantity prepared by a
Malay man named Ilirlji liiihar for J.ietil. l.cride. Commandant of
the district, in the year lSUCi, and it has pvh' sinre been tendered
an object of trade in the' place. The . quantity ol moss prepared
in former years was, noWever, not so great its' ii is r.t present: its
qualities not being th?n sufficiently kntivvn to Eiiiopi&us and the
demand extieinely limited. Whatever moss was pn part d v> as disp'osetf of to the JalTmi mnormcit, !)o cxport-d it either to Miu'iaS,
or Colombo under the name of "Jaffna Moss.''
13r. Sigmond, in a paper read ar a. meeting of the Mtdiio-Botauical Society of London stales that Cc\ Km Moss has hern found
very superior in several respects to the Mosses of Iceland and
CnrrfghdCiv and he recommends ilie jelly made from it us a most
desirable nutrition for women in their aeecnclntienis, bring l'r;e from
all the objections which aw* f<*mrr K* c.vist with malt liquors, and
other beverages aud diets well calculated to nourish anil v ppmt
the mother, but highly itijuriuus in their effects upon the delicate
frame of the child.

E 2 I
The following is a statement of the quantity of moss ex]>orttd
from Califentyn, beyond Ceylon and coastwise, from 1813 10 1849
inclusive :
Ih 1^13
i
5701 iba.
1814;
260
1815
316
1816..;...:
304
1817
.....;;..
86
1818...... ;.;. ......
35
1819......
65b
1820.......
:.
30
1821.;
1822

i. ......

1823

225|
210

1799

1824.....

43.1

1825....;
302
1826;
662
1827.
..
80
1628
285
1829. ...
;... 370
1830
...;
290
1831.
63U
1832...;....;
630
1833
;....;.... 590
1834
.. 140
1835..^
370
183C. ....... ........ 1267
1837

1838
1839
1840

1431

2989
: 3361
..15219$

The whole of the last mentioned

Colombo and theuee sent to England.

15219J lb,

wefe taken to

The price of a pound of moss was at first 9d, afterwards k

dwindled to 41 and then to M; but is now rapidly iiicrtasii)^.

s. c. c.

1
[

843

tfljc bcrlanB Routt,

Bx THE REV. J. G. Macticab.
(C'on(inafrf.)
THE PYRAMIDS AND THE DESAKT.

We wore now wiihin two' miles of Boultic the port of Grand

Cairo. But it still seehied a question when our voyage should be
bver; for the wind wax blowing frt-sh and right against us, and it
was now almost impossible to tract the C'unjuh, in consequence of
the many irilen opiums tin the batiks: Slill htfwever we landed be
fore tin- miiruihg was quite spent. And a few minutes afterwards,
leaving- the reluctant and complaining camels on their knees to
receive our luggage and walk it up after us, we found ourselves
threading at n canter various tortuous paths ill order to effect
out' escape out of Bonlac, on these admirable doukies formerly spo
ken 6f. Thus we were soon on the high way to Cairo and about two
miles distant. The spaciousness ol the load with rK-casionully fine
bridges and parapets, the numerous gardens on both sides of it
which were at this season beautifully verdant, and the domes and
minarets of grand Cairo before us, all conspired to make this ride
very animating.
We were also much pleased with the cheerful looks of the
peasants carrying their market -slufis to the citVi We passed group
after group in rapid succession, one of our donkey boys
causing m) small annoyance, and even terror to some of them
by roguishly shaking before iheii faces a sable Boa which
though quite a treasure In the Mediterranean and Greece was now
found to be too warm for wealing, and was given to the boy to
do what lie pleased with.
In due time we reached Cnirrt ; and no sooner did We enter it
than we had occasion to remark what is indeed the most remark
able feature ol that city, ihc narrowness of (he streets. Were it
not that the donkey boys ran ever be lure their beast's head calling
out " hllol" '' hhot" which means I belive " lake care" we should cer
tainly h.ive stink at the first turn, and contributed Our share to
form one entangled mass ol donkeys, caiilels, hen-coops and
fruit-baskets. But what as we afterwards found, is chiefly to be
dreaded in these narrow streets is the encounter of a loaded camel
sallying along. He will no more stop or go out of his way for
any gentleman, than if he were a steam carriage going by itself.
And were it not that the donkey has ah admirable power both of
yielding ana of keeping on his feet, though one indulges in that
manoevre called by sailors " pushing off" many a blow would the
stranger receive in the way referred to. Still however in a city li!.c
Caiio lying under a sun which is often very hot but yet never vertical
so great are the advantages of narrow streets that possibly all their
inconveniences are more than balanced. In countries having exuewe

t 2*6 1
climates, lofty houses and narrow streets arc certaiuly by far tie coolest
iri summer and the warmest its win lei. The American cities u ith their'
broad straight streets ever cutting each other at right angles and
their square "Works of houses" lyiug between, are equally desti
tute of all that is picture sque, and ef all that is cool in snnimet, and
comfortable in winter. In tolerably good time for breakfast we
arrived at Hills Hotel, an awkwaid and unpromising establishment
at first sight, but yet more worthy of being cooimeiidid, wt believe,
than any otLci that is to be (mind in Cairo. And now to our great
vexation we found ou our ariival parties already setting off ou nil
hands for Suez to join the steamer for Bombay. We Mattered
ourselves however that we should he in time to-morrow, and after u
hearty breakfast which was served in the English style, we set off
OB the ever serviceable donkies for the Pyramids ; and suitably tooot short lime we were galloped along so fast that the redoutaWe
Ali Muslaphu endeavoured in vain to lead the von Poor AH J
Let me not refrain from celebrating in the Ceytm ..W3"2tti the
mishap in which his sense of duty envolved bin;. During part of
the way there is only a foot-path wilh the deep furrows of weH
ploughed fields on both sides; and Ali being by some aceideut
thrown behind at this part, and feeling in duly bound to be al
ways foremost broke off on one side into the furrows. Bat just
when gaining his object, he and his beast lost balance, and our eyes
were painfully greeted by his heels lecapiliilating in the air a similar eve-.
In tion just performed by those of the donkey. Much to our salisfoction however Ali after dt awing a breath or two in a. horizontal
position among the furrows resumed the vertical ; and by walking
on shewed that he could do so, while he displayed his indigna
tion at the conduct of his ass, by never looking after him. Fortunntely by this lime, eight miles (the distance of the Pyiamids
of Gizeh from Cairo) were nearly passed over, and instead of
having to mind the recovery ol his donkey, Ali had more to do
in preserving us Irom being beset by a host of Oedouins, who
laim the right of exhibiting the Pyramids to strangers, and
ivho come running up to every visitor in very mi necessary
numbers, most urgent to be employed. For our parts we did
not much like the prospect of their society at all. They seemed
x ti uly savage-looking sei, with no dress but n loose shirt ; and in rio
point of view did the prospect their companionship dining the day
seem in the least degiee pleasing. We therefore endeavoured to email*
cipate ourselves fiom the whole of them; and Ali still indignant at
the usage he had received from his ass, and I believe feeling > iherwise
hurl, went the length of hitting one of them a very severe blow on
the buck with a formidable stick which lie carried. At this we were
rather disconcerted, thinking that il could not he s-nfc in so feeble
a party as we were, to ileal a horde of Bedouins so cavoherly. Tirl
that moment the term Bedouin was a formidable name in onr
vocabulary. But what was our ttmasement when we found the
Bedouin that had been struck coming forward and urging the Mow
he had received, not as an argument to justify
contemplated
Itveuge, but tojusiify our eugagtng him m preference to the ethers i

c w i
Jfr must be confessed however that no fair inference as to the native
character l the bedouins can be drawn trora the conduct of those
thai hung ill. oui the p_M Muids. For Mohamet AH is so determined
that no visitor shall meet with any bad usage from them, that if
any accident occurs at all, it is said that he lays it to their charge
and beheads as many ol them as he can catch. The consequence is
tliut uo one should go lo the Pyramids alone. For say that he meets with
an accident, as any one may in climbing or descending such a thing as
a pyramid. Say that he sprains or breaks his leg and will need be car
ried, off i mi tlie Bedouins forthwith to save their heads, and t lie poor
traveller u led with the view of the gyrations of the vultures over head
anticipating a repast upon his body, as bis only solace. After all
our endeavours we could not emancipate ourselves from these Bedouins ;
and as it seemed better, since they must go with us, to have them
us servants than as ill-affected attendants we engaged no fewer
than a dozen ; and thus escorted we came up to the base of
tbe pyramid pf Cheops, which is at once the largest of the ibree
and the nearest to Cajro, And now, when at the base, we saw ful!y
what a stupendous mass of architecture the pyramids really are.
Curiously enough they are composed of a rock very similar in its
characters to that of which a great part of Kome and of Paris is
composeda lime-stone consisting in a great measure of fossil organic
lemain*. But here all the blocks are of cyclopcau dimensions. They are
arranged in cnirses, forming steps. But so large is each block that it
is. impossible lo ascend without the use of the arms as well as of ike
legs. Iu our case we allowed the Bedouins to help us up in their
own way, which though we were V- first very rebellious, proved iu
the end a. great assistance ; for it was now excessively warm and we
were not in the best condition for undergoing fatigue not having
being undressed for three nights nor having had any sleep but such
as we coujd catch tin our mutirasscs, sin rounded by the noisy crew
ol l|ie caiijali.
But when we gained tbe summit of the great pyramid
and stood in the lush breeze which blew there and looked
around, all sense of fatigue and indued discomfort of every kind vanish*
cd. Between us and Cairo, and stretching down into the horizon
on both sides lay the valley of the Nile beautifully verdant and
most pleasingly illuminated by tbe silvery waters of the Nile, Be'
yoiid it lay Grand t mio with its battlements, domes, and mina
rets, (tml the long ridge ol a precipitous bill which closes the view
end shuts put the desart on that side. At our feet and on to the
horizon in all directions, iu striking contrast with the verdure of the
vsjley we had cross J, lay a boundless tract of red sand varied by no ob
ject except some pyramid* in the extreme distance, similar to those of
(ii/c'i. After enjoying this sight sod tbe contemplations which sacred
history suggests on the sp*t, we descended rapidly till about the
niiiiot-- of the pyramid, where it is usual for the visitor to rest ou
a flat space occasioned by the removal of several stones There our
Bedouins proposed to dance their national dance ; and ridiculous
though it was (0 witness dancing 014 tbe pyramid of Cheops we
accepted their proposal, and let them dance and sing us they pleased.

{ 246 ]
Of their fverfornnnce little can be said but that like themselves it
was vulgar enough. It is better worthy of remark that here about
the middle of the pyramid the best estimate can be formed of the
magnitude of the pile. Above, as well as below, it seemed now a
mass of building as immense as the imagination had ever pictured
it; and we agreed that rip where had we yet seen so much to wonder
at and so little to admire. But the very length ol the journey
which it appeared we hud still to make before we reached the bot
tom made, us hasten our steps downwards. We accordingly decended, taking the direction of the opening into the interior cham
bers ; and when arrived there, in we went, and made the common
tOur through the dark and difficult galleries having nothing to com
plain of but our inability in common with all others to understad
what we had seen.
(In oilr return to the city we found U> our great satisfaction
that we might 'till spend another day in Cairo ; for the mails
had not yet been heard of. We cannot say however that we
saw anything pleasing or memorable in the Capital of Mahomet
Alii Cairo since it Has been almost wholly abandoned by Turks
bits become a podr place. None of the elegancies of the last are now
to be seen here. But on the contrary the eye rests ever}' where
ohly oh crowds of poor anU vulgar people, wholn superstition
appears to have robbed of sOrde of the best feelings Of Immunity, as
the lolldwing anecdote with show. Walking along the streets 1 saw
a crowd of people crushing anxiously round sortie bbject seem
ingly lying mi the groilnd, aiid which appealed id excite their mirth
very successfully. I immediately wished tr) see what it was. But
as the childreu were looking keenly between the legs of the grown
up people, and the heads of the latter were almost knocking against
each other as they wagged their heard s With laughter at the mirth
ful spectacle they were looking at, I Could Hot learn for some
time what that spectacle was ; but I concluded it was a monkey, or
puppet.*, or White mice in a mill, or Something of that sort as in
Europe. However I continued trying to sec; and getting now very
near, says AH "notion near Sirdevil in him devil Sir." Being
now quite impatient to set; what it was, I pushed aside some of
the people (hat stood around, and there lay in the filth ol the
streets an unhappy young man writhing in a fit of epilepsy. On
another occasion also the same day, I saw an old mun lying in
the street unable to move, while hundreds passed by without even
deigning to look at him. In the witnessing such sights and in the
taking of a turkisll bath little worthy df praise If those of Tut*
k&y be no better then those of Cairo, the day passed away nor need
we mention anything else that we saw. Suffice it to say that next morn
ing we were on the desart in a spring-van or baudy with a very agree
able English gontlemah for our companion, habited in a very hand
some turkish dress and wearing a Damascus sabre, the idea ol which
we rather liked when we remembered how kindly the Bedouins at
the pyramids took the correction of Ali Mnsiapha. Poor Ali ! he
pled strongly to accompany us all the way to Suez, but ha was

S49

reconciled to the parting, when we introduced him to another party

going down to Alexandria, ' who on hearing our account of him
engaged him as their servant.
It will readily be believed that the desart presents few objects to
prevent us now from bringing these remarks to a oldie. A tract of
sand with so many founded pebbles of Egyptian Jasper mixed with
it (except at one of two stages after leaving Cairo) that it is as
hard as a road is all that is to be encountered urder the
name of desart between Cairo and Suez. Moreover the distance is
less than 90 miles, and there are eight rest-houses by the way. We
accomplished the drive in about a day, eating and sleeping includ
ed, and that too when the horses were very much Jaded, for we
were the last to come. Hut though the desait proved so little for
midable, compared with what we had anticipated, we were vry glad
to find ourselves at Suez, and yet still more so when we looked
down " the (ougue of the Egyptian sea" and saw the Atalanta
Steamer bound lor Bombay, lying about two miles below the town.
Of all the places We have evr seen Suez is the most wretched by
far. Not a tree, plant or herb within the whole compass of the
horizon ! Not a drop of j;ood water, but must be brought from
the Nile and paid for by the traveller at the rate of four-pence a
bottle ! There are indeed springs in the neighbourhood from which
the pilgrims drink, but the water is brackish, nor is it likely that
better could be easily found ; for the whole country appears to be of
volcanic origin. Yet destitute as ihis country is of natural charms, can
nature impart to a landscape any that can be compared with those with
which the heart invests such scenes . of sacred history. In a wotd
we were within a few days journey ol Mount Sinai. Thither
our fellow traveller, anxious to have us along with him, was on his
way, having dispatched ten camels before him with all things need
ful for the journey. But we must go on board the Bombay Stea
mer; and this we did, thanking Admiral Elliott who having failed to
come overland as was expected, left the best cabin free for the
last comers.

...

.-

F 1

Note* from ?yomf.

Sayings and Doings of Sam Slick

ef Slickville. The History of a Flirt.
y Herself. Cairo, Petra and Dumas,
cus, in 1839. By J. G. Kiimear Esq.
A. Winter in the West Indies. By
J. J. Gurney. Church Principles con
sidered in their results. By W. .
Gladstone Esq. if. P. Fallacies of the
Faculty, By Dr. Vkksnn: Irish Life:
in the Castle, the ( ourts and tho
Country. Ireland its scenery charac
ter &c.* &e. By Mr. and Mrs. S. C.
Hall. Scenes and Sports in Foreigu
lauds. By Major B. Napier, 46/A
\Xeyt. The Naval Surgeon. By the
author of Cavendish. The Cashmere
Shawl. By Capl White. The Author's
Printing and Publishing
Assistant
Two Summers In Norway. By the au
thor of "the Angler in Ireland." The
life, Journals end Correspondence oi
Samuel Ptpys Esq. F. R. S. Mer
cedes of Castillo : a Romance of the
days of Columbus. By J. F. Cooper
Esq. Ecclesiastical Cbonologv. By the
S\ J. C. Riddle M. A. the City
of the Magyar, or Hungary and her
Institutions 'in 1839-40. 11* Miss Pardo*.
'
An important discovery has" been
made by M. Didron, during his recent
errchawlogical tour in Greeca and Tur
key, of a Greek manuscript, about
800 years old, containing a complete
code of religious monumental paintings.
This document, found at Mount Alhos,
gives full Instructions concerning all
the subjects and persons that ought
to be painted in churches, with the
age, costume, and attributes that each
figure ought to have. Acopy of this
manuscript is making at Mount Athos
with the greatest care, Another manu
script, containing a similar on religious
architecture, is believed by M, Uiron
tc exist at Adrianople, and be lias
some hopes of obtaining it.
Circolatio* or Newspapers imthe
TJmteb States For many years after
the first settlement of America, most
of the books written here for the press
were printed in England. The first
American press was set up at Cam
bridge, in Massachussets, as early at

1638; In 1700 there were but flwf

presses in the colonies; in the UnitedStates, in 1600, 300; in 1830, about
1,200; since which time the number
bus much increased. The number at
newspapers printed in this country, toy
1775, was 37; in 1801,203; in 1810,
359; in 1834, nearly 1,800; and the
present number is about 1,400. The
number of copies of newspaper* circu
lated in the United states in 1801. * as
computed at 12,000,000 or 13,000,000 ;
ill 180), at 23,222,300; the present
number dors not probably fall much
short of 100,000,000. The other pro
ductions of Hie press have increased
in a similar proportion. American Al
manack for 1840.
At Lode and La-Chanx-de-Fonda,
two of tha principal watch making,
places in the canton ot Neufchatel,
there were made and stamped in 1839,
as follows: At l.oclr, 37,700 watcbcuses, of which 16,047 wcro uold, mid
22,053 silver, besides 3,480 articles
of jewellery. At I.a-t haux-de-FnudF.,
64,703 wutchcases, of which 21.302
were gold, and 43,403 silver, beside*
16,155 articles of jewellery.
On tho afternoon of Thursday the
10th Oct., Captain Bollock, whohaa been
for a long time engaged in endeavour
ing to fix a safety -beacon on the
Goodwin Sands, accomplished his law
borious work. The beacon he has
succeeded in erecting consists of a co
lumn about forty feet above the level
of the sea ; having cleats and ropes
attached to four of its sides, with
holds for hands and feet. At the sum
mit of the column is a gallery, of
hexagon form, made of trellis-work,
and capable of holding twenty persona
at one time. Above the gallery, and
in continuation of the column, is a
flagslnn", ten feet long; making the
entire beacon fifty feet In height. The
Sides of the gallery are so constructed
as to enable the persons in it to be
covered in with sailcloth, which is reef
ed in and round it, and can be used
at pleasure ; as also an awnini; to
pass over it, which is fixed to the
flagstaff; thus entirely protecting any

2fil

jaifortvrnate. mariner who may seek

Bhellt r on the column from foul and
tempestuous weather. A barrel of fresh
water, together with a painted bug,
enclo-inp a Hag of distress, is stationed
on the gallery; ami the .wuls, Hoist
the flag," painted ill the laugaaue* of
all nations, ou boards stationed round
the inner part of the' gallery, so that
the foreigner ns null as the native
seamen may be enabled to show a
signal of distress, and obtain help from
shore, which is about seven miles dis
tant from the beacon.
Statistics of Gas. For lighting Lon
don and its suburbs with gas, there
are eighteen public gas works; twelve
public gas-work companies ; 2,800,000.
capital employed in works, pipes, tanks,
has-holdera, apparatus ; 460,000 year
ly revenue derived; I80,i>00 tons of
coal used in the year for making gas ;
1,460.000,000 cubic feet of gas uiude
in the year; 134,300 private burners
supplied to about 400,000 customers ;
80,400 publie or street consumers.
About 2,550 of these are in the city
of London. 380 lamplighters employed ;
176 gas- holders, several of them double
ones, capable of storing 5,500,000 cu
bit) feet ; - 890 tons of coal used in
the retort* on the shortest day, in
twenty- four hours; 7,120,000 cubic feet
of gas used in the longest night, say
84th December; about 2,500 persons
are employed in the metropolis alone
in this branch of manufacture ; between
1832 and 1827 the quantity nearlydoubled itself, and that in five Years ;
between 1827 and 1837 it doubled it
self again;
Comparative Business of the Bbitik I'oKi*. In the year 1839, of the

twenty three millions nnd a half paid aa

customs duties at tho variour ports of
the United Kingdom, London paid 48^
per- cent., or very nearly one-half of
the whole ; Liverpool couir'buted 19
per cent-, Bristol 4j per cent.. Hurt
3$ per cent., and Dublin 3* per ceut,
Lei;h paid SJJ per cent., Newcastle nnd
Glasgow each 2 per cent., Belfast If
per cent., Greenock rather less, and
Cork one per cent. Gloucester paid
about two-thirds per cent., Sunderland,
Whitehaven, Plymouth, Limerick, nnd
Cork about one half per cent., Lon
donderry and Goole, about one-third
per cent.. Chester, Exeter, I.bini, Tortsmouth, Sonthamlori, Stockton, Yarmouth
Aberdeen, Dundee, niid Port Glasgow,
each above oue-quarler per cent, of
the whole.
Cessobsiiip. Theccnsorshipofbooks
is of a more ancient date than the
art of printing ; it was on Invention
which the priesthood hit upon and
brought to bear, with a view to per
petuate their dominion over men's con
sciences. As regards priuted books, it
was first established in ti formal man
ner by Pope Alexander (the Sixth)
in 1501. It did not, however, provo
adequate even to repress the publi
cation of heretical hooks, amongst which,
the translations of the. Scripture into
the vulgar tongue were accounted tbo
most deadly. Francis the First of
France1* the father of Science !*V
rpsolved to do it effectually, c'tid, in
the year 1935, forbad the priming of
hooks altogether, under pain of tho
bow-string. This remedy, could it he c
bce.n universally applied, would cer
tainly have done away with the abuata
of iLo press. AtltetneuiU.

Ffje (Batterer.

Ooon Sense. Good sense is not a

taerelv intellectual attribute; it is ra
ther the result of a just equilibrium
of all our faculties, spiritual and mortal.
The dishonest, or the toys of their
own passions, may have genius, but
they rarely, if ever, have good sense
is the conduct of life. The man n horn
1 perceive walking an bonoursfcio and

tip*: -hi career, jnst to others nnd also

to himself (for we eve jus.U-e to our.
selvf*--to the enre of our fortunes
our character to the management of
our passions) is a more dignified re
presentative of his Maker thun a mere
child of genius.
Of such .-. man we
say he has good sense; yes, but ha
has also integrity, tolf-respec: and self

[ 252 ]
ing around1, ^^^lile he was consider*;
how he could accomplish the poor
wretch's deliverance, who continued his
shrieks more loudly than ever, assert
ing that the rats ware devouring him,
< boltnondeley perceived a ladder hi a
coiner of tho vault, arid lowering it
into the pit, the sides of which were
perpendicular and Bagged, instantly des
cended. If he had been horrified at
the vociferations of the prisoner, he was
now perfectly appalled by the ghastly
Spectacle he presented; The unfortunate
person had not exaggerated bis danger
when he said that the rats were about
to devour him. His arms, body, and
fire were torn and bleeding, and as
Ch'dmondeley approached he beheld
n timbers of bis assailants spring from
him and swiin off.
More dead than
THE CELLS RI.MEATH THE TOWEB.
alive, the sufferer expressed his thanks,
" Turning off on the left, lie pro and taking him in his arms, Cholnmnceeded for some distance, until being
deley carried hitn up the ladder."
convinced by the hollow sound of the
Jinskurth's Tvuer of London.
,
floor that there were, vaults beneath,
he bald his torch downwards, and pre
Causeb ofCoxquoal Quabbei.. Fot
sently discovered an iron ring in one Pope's fXquisite good sense tuke the
of the atones.
liaising it, lie beheld folhininj, which is a master-piece :
a flight of steps, and descending them, " Nothing hinders the constant agree-.
found himself iu a lower pussuge about ment of people who live together but
two feet wide, and apparently of con
mere vanity a secret insisting upon
siderable length.
Hastily tracking it, what they think their dignity or merit;
be gradually descended until he came and inward expectation of such an overto a levol, where both the floor and measure of deference and regard as
ceiling were damp and humid.
His answers to their own extravagant false
torch now began to burn feebly, and scale, and which nobody can pay, be'
threw a ghastly ligri upon the Blimy cause none but themselves can tell readi
walls and dripping roof. While he whs ly to what pitch it amounts." Thou
thus pursuing his way, a long and sands of houses would he happy tofearful shriek broke Upon bis car, and morrow if this passage were written in
he hastened forward as quickly as the letters of gold over the mantel-piece,
slippery path would allow bitn.
It and the owners could have the courage
was evident, from the increasing hu
to apply it to themselves.
midity of the atmosphere, that ho waa
approaching the river. As he advanced
To Make Home HAPrT. Nature is
the cries grew louder, and he became industrious in adorning her dominiousaware, from the noise around, that and the man to whom this duty is
legions of rats were fleeing before him. addressad should feel 'end obey" the
These loathsome animals were in such lesson.
Let him, too, be industrious
numbers, that < holmoudeloy, halt-fear in adorning his dominionin making
ing an attack from them, drew his his home, the dwelling of his wife and
sword. After proceeding about fifty children, not only convenient and com
yards, the passage h was traversing fortable, but pleaaani. Let him, as far
terminated in a low wide vault, in the as circumstances will permit, be in
centre of which was [a deep pit. From dustrious iu surrounding it with pleasing
the bottflm of this abyss the cries re objects; in decorating it, within and
sounded, and hurrying to its edge, ho without, with things that tend to make
held down the torch, and discovered it agreeable and attractive. Let industry
at the depth of some twenty feet, a make it the abode of neatness and good
miscraple half-naked object up to his order j a place which brings satisfaction
knees in water, uud uleudiii^ himself iu every inmate, and which, in absence,
from buudrtds of rats that wercr sliarm- draws back the heart by the fond as-

denial. A thousand trial* which his

sense braves and conquers are tempta
tions also to his probity, his temper
in a word, to all the many sides of
his complicated nature. Now I do not
think lie will have the good sense any
more than a drunkard will have Strong
lierves, unless he be in the constant
huliit of keeping his hiiud clear from
the Intoxication of envy, vanity, and
the various emotions that dupe and
misli :'.l us. Good sense is not therefore
nn abstract quality or a solitary talent ;
but it Is the natural result of thinking
justly, and therefore seeing clearly, and
is as different front the sagacity that
belongs to a diplomatist or an attorney
as the philosophy of Socrates differed
from the rhetoric ofGor^ias. Kuttoer.

[: 233

are feeding silk-worms for mo; in

Saxoiry, thvy me shearing tho sheep
to make me clothing ; at Home, power
ful steam-engines arc spinning and
weaving for me, and making cutlery
for" me, and pumping the mines, that
minerals useful to me may be procured.
My patrimony was' small, yet I have
post. coaches running day andnis-hton
all the roads to carry my correspondeuce; I have roads, and canals, and
budges, to bear the coal for my winter
Woman's Tears. Young women are fire ; nay, I have protecting fleets and
Ml of tears. They all weep as bitterly armies around my happy country, to
for the loss of a new dress, as for secure my enjoyments and repose,
the loss ol an old lover.
They will Then I have edifurs and printers who
weep for anything or for nothing. They daily send me an aecouut of what is
will scold you to death, for accidentally going on throughout the world, among
tearing a new gown, and weep for all these people who serve me, and
suite tbey cannot be revenged on you. in a coiner of my house I have books,
They will weep when they cannnol go the miracle of all" u>y possessions, more
t a" ball or to a tea party or because wonderful than the wishing-cap of the
their parents will not permit them to Arabian tales; for they transport me
run away with a scamp ; they will weep Instantly, not only to all places, but
because "they canuot have everything to all timna.
By" my books I can
their own way. Married women weep conjure up before me, to vivid existence,
to conquer. Tears are the most potent all the great and good men of antiquity ;
arms of malrimouial warfare. If a gruff and for my individual satisfaction, I
husband has abused his wife, she weeps, can make them act Over again the most
and be relents and promises bettor renowned of their exploits ; the orator*
behaviour. How many men have gone declaim for me ; the historians recite ;
to bed in wrath, and risen in the morn
the pcets sing ; in a word, from the
ing, quite subdued by tears and a equator to the pole and from the begin
curtain lecture! Jtowitt.
ning of time uniil now, by my books
I can be where I please."This pic
Wonders o* Civilisation. The con
dition of the present inhabitants of this ture is not overcharged, and might be
country is very different from that of much extended ; such being the mira
cle of God's goodness and providence,
their forefathers. These generally di
vided into small states or societies, had lii.a each individnal of the civilized
few relations of amity with surrounding millions that cover the earth may have
tribes, and their thought* and interests nearly the same enjoyments as if he
were confined very much within their were the single lord of all. Arnolt.

Sq.cja'iona. of comfort,and content. Let

tots bo done, and lliis sacred spoi will
surely become ihe scene "I cheerlulncss,
loudness, and pence. \'e parents, who
Would have your children happy, be
industrious to bring tliein up in the midst
of a pleasant, a cheerful, and happy home
Waste not vour own time in accumulat
ing wealth "for them, but fill their minds
and souls in the way proposed, with
the seeds of virtue and true prosperity.

own little territories and rude habits.

Now, however, every one sees himself
a mmbir of one vast civilized society
which covers the face of ihe earth, and
no part of the earth is indifferent to
him.
In England, a man of small
fortune may cast his regards around
him, and say with truth and exultation,
" I am lodged in a house that affords
me conveniences and comforts which
even a King could not command some
centuries ago. There are ships crossing
the seas in every direction, to bring
what is useful to me from all parts of
the earth. In China, men are gather
ing the tea-leaf for me; in America,
they are planting cotton forme; in tho
West India Islands, they are prqiaring
my sugar and my coffee ; in Italy they

What is in v. use we hake of tub

scriptures. All our practical know
ledge of God is comprised in the Bi
ble. All that we can know of our
Creator, of our relation to him, of his
will, of his intentions concerning us,
of our prospects after death all such
knowledge we derive from this source.
The Bible then ought to be to us that
which the chart and the compass are
to the Mariner on a stormy ocean:
we have absolutely no other guide,
no other directory to our course. In
what light then do wo practically re
gard the Bible ? Is it enough to pos
sess the Scriptures, to hove been in
structed out of the Scriptures in in
fancy, to hear them read in public
worship, to have a general approba-

t 254 f
f

linn of their contents 1 Would it be

satisfactory to tlie Mariner merely to
possess a compass on board bis vessel;.
to have received Information as to its
lis- iu infancy, to admire its utility,
or In discourse sometimes publicly of
Us merits? Meanwhile he is driving;
on, it may be to rocks, to shoals, to
sands, or quite away from his course.
But how many an individual lives
hi this precise manner, as to this use
of the Scriptures ! Day passes after
day, week after week, month alter
rnonlh, year after year, and God marks
not bis anxious eye pondering over
this chart of li ft*. Politics, science,
jlpetry, history, it may be lighter pro
ductions, these cati arrest Ids atten
tion and interest bis mind ; but the
Bible which notifies the waymarks to
eternity, this excites no interest. Aud
yet such a person perhaps expects
God's favourexpects to reach the
harbour of endless peace, and never
even dreams of the probability of in
tenoning shipwreck!
Mournful and
inconsistent expectations! Is this to
work out salvation " with fear and
trembling ;" is this to honour the sta
tutes of the Sort reign of the universe;
is this to value the counsels of a hea
venly parent and benefactor ; is this
to betoken anxiety for the blessings
of his great- salvation ?
Many, however, are to be found who
are by no means chargeable with this
entire neglect of the Scriptures. Some
have, from infancy, acquired regular
habits of reading the Bible, and pe
ruse, as a daily or at least as a weekly
task, their allotted chapters. Bat they
do this oftentimes without anxiety aud
vffth'otit progress rh religions knowledge.
The faM of reading t* to Ihenr more
important than tint contents which
trfey re*d. They1 rrfanif.it no submis
sion of the' Heart to God's teaching
fi'o godly drTigehee to lay up in the
Soul his statutes and prornises. BtetJliiV fastens not upon their thoughts
trie wonders of redeeming love attract
twit their unVfrmns. They read' with
cwMties*, and' huignbrj and unconcern.
There is' no solicitude whether thiy
understand wfcbther they feci, whether

they remember, whether they obey-*

whether or not that mighty record of*
truth dispels falsehood, and tears away
sin from their souls. There is no
scrutiny as to the effect of their Enowledge as to the conformity of theit
views, aud sentiments, and habits, u iis
the derisions of God The heart make*
no progress in its voyageit is no
nearer to God- no nearer to the dis
positions of Heaven than it Was many*
years ago.
Think siisrn of' the Mariner his*
eye glances daily Upon his compass'
or once a- week he fixes his losfc ujsx
on the needle) but he nsws lint the*
helm he brings not the teasel into*
tbe prescribed course. As' Well then
might tbe compass be east into tiffs*
dfpths of the ! Now, it is eti^
dent that that is not the nse of the'
Scriptures which God demandsthis"
is not to possess any atufiety as as*
the knowledge of God's will. Those*
Who thus neglect, or thus imperfectly*
respect the Scriptures ate Dot among*
tfw>se who " work" out their salvatlon>
with fear and trembling."-Kot I.
Child, amidst tbe flowers at play
While the red light fades away.;
Mother with thine earnest eye,
Kver following silently ;
Father, by the breeie of eve
Call'd thy harvest work to leave ;
Pray ! ere yet the dork: hours be,
Lift into heart and bend' the Irme'.
Traveller, in the stranger's land;
Far from thine own household band^
Mourner, batinled by the tone
Of a voice from this world gone;.
Captive, iu whose narrow cell
Simshiue bath not leave to dwell ;
Sailor, on tbe darkening sea-
Li A the heart and bend the knee.
Warrior, that from" batik* wolf;
Bpaihcst now at set of sun
Woman o'er the lowly slain,
Weeping on his btlriul plain.
Ye that triumph, ve that sighKindred by one holy tie;
Heasen's first star alike' ye seeLift tbe heart and- bead the knee,
[ JuV?. Bonant,

t asa 3
Cttwift from 5?er:?3ira!t
A new and inodorous sort of paint,
anlled -Kalsomiuo, the invention of Miss
ifanriy t orbeaux, has been laiely in
troduced to public notice. The maloirials of which it is composed, are at
firs! soluble in water ; and while in
ilhis state admit of the design being
effaced, or a portion of the colouring
-f a wall orceiling being removed, if
necessary ; osubsequent operation ren
ders tho paint insoluble, by a chemical
change of the properties of the rua-terialj which fiaca the colour dura-bly. It is cee from any ofifeusivo smell
dries in a few hours, is not acted upon
'injuriously by atmospheric influences,
and is said to bo more durable than
oil paint, as well as more agrei able
ito the eye, and not at all prejudicial
to the hearth ; united, a room painted
with it one day, may be inhunltalr.d
the next. It may also be made ap
plicable to easel punning also. We
have seen a little landscape painted
with this materia], which combined
something of the depth and. solidity
>of oil with the transparency of watercolour ; and a specimen of broad ilow.
r painting, for a room was shown us,
which resisted the rude action of the
scrubbing-brush. The effect of thtr
.white as a ground for gliding, is ex
tremely clear without being dazzling ;
ud we can well understand that it
.possesses the property ascribed to it of
" softening and diffusing light. Athertaum.

all their occupations, and flocking around

him from .ftelA and forest, form a coni
grcgalion, and listen with n delight to
which we, pampered as we are by the
abundance of our mercies, are strang
ers, to the liturgy of the Church of
England read by the lips of iis or
dained ministers. They bring out (6
him their children to be baptized ; and
they point, in bitterness oi spirit to
the graves where they have been com
pelled to lay their dead without a cler
gyman to perforin the lajt offices oT
religion. And these are our. brethren !
flesh of our flesh and bona of our
bone men whose fathers knelt side
by side with ours in the same churches
and received the Christian sacraments
from trie same hands. O ! when you
see our churches' spires beautifying
and hallowing the scenery of England's
homes when you hear the ehiine of
their bells summoning you to partici
pate in their multiplied services bes
tow a thought. I implore you, on cur
brethren in Canada; and remember,
that this Society, at the hazard of be
coming bankrupt, has undertaken to
save them, if possible, from sinking
into a still lower depth of spiritual
destitution-^ Cuhiihl GitziUe.

I'rooi a report elaborately compiled

by the Statistical Society, there ap
pears the following great discrepaney
in the ratio of mortality at some of
the principal colonies. Taking the average of strength as 1 ,000, the pro
Thb Church is Casjtja.-^- There portionate rate of -mortality of Euro
are at this moment districts of from pean troops is, tit Sierra I.eone 4S3-;
one hundred to two hundred miles ex- Jamaica, 131* Windward and i.oewan]
lent in Cauada--not mero forest and Islands, 78 ; Madrua Presidency, .48-;
waste, but peopled districts peopled by -bVrmudas, 58 ; Mauritius, 87 ; St .Haemigrants from this country, ur by the lens end the Ionian Islands, 25 ; (Gi
"descendants of those who were emigrants braltar, 21 ; Malta and Canada, 1(1;
Nova Scotia and New Brunswick, 1-4,
there are districts of from one liuu
'dred to two hundred miles in which being the same as in the United King
there is not a single place of worship dom ; the Cape district of the Cape
or a single ordained minister of the of Good Hope, 13; and on the Eas
gospel. And when one does make his tern frontier but 9. Of native troops
appearance amongst them and bles- the proportion is at Sierra I.eone and
ed bo Hod for Btill keeping alive the Jamaica, 30 ; Windward and Leeward
spiritwhen an ordained clergyman Islands, -10 ; the Madras Presidency,
does come amongst them, they welcome IS; Mauritius, 37; and the Eastern
4iim as they would an angel from hea
district of the Cape of Go.id Hope,
ven : his presence makes a Sabbath- 10; in each of those two latter cases
day or. a'Sabualh'tt'cek: tiusy lay aside the proportion exceeding those ofliu-

256

ropeans.
The above relates only to
non-commissioned officers mid piivates ;
but it is generally supposed that the
mortality among officers bears a near
ly uniform proportion to that which
prevails among the privates of about
one-third less. On the average of all
the stmions upon which Major Talloeh
has reported, excepting Sierra I.oone,
the proportion was as 12 to IB per
1,000; but in the Kasl Indies it wou'd
be higher, as officers have not the
same opportunities fur retiring and retnrning home. Ibid.
Gammaou, or Village Dance. This
ceremony commonly follows that of
" Horn Pulling,'' or" Breaking of (ocoanuts ;" seldom or never consulting
the stars to commence it. '1 he INluTas (a name signifying a " teacher,"
but here given to the priests, eilheT
of the demons or gods,) and the. sing
ers, the drummers, the washers, and
the wnlioluwa,* with a fur others, are
duly informed of the matter seme days
previous to its perfoimauce, when a
general donation of 6 or ft fanams iB
collected from each family disposed to
assist in it and partake of its benefits ;
this is in order to meet the expenccs
of purchasing rice, fish, vegetables,
and other ingredients necessary for food.
A temporary building is erected for the
purpose by the joint exertions of the
Kduras aiid the people which building
as well as every other undertaking,
must be completed by the walioluwa,
lr whose sake the last portion of them
is reserved. The Kdnras and many
of the people assemble on the spot
early on the day appointed to perform
the ceremony, when they (the Kdnras
specially) partake of the preparation
of food cal led l'ebalta (rice dedicated)
and each person takes to himself the
part of service encumbent on him.
The singer, accompanied by the drum
mers, cuts the branch of a jack tree
for the kap pillar: the kapunas and
the pattiniya* erect their respective al
tars, or flower beds ; and the people
* Watioluwa is an individual of an
Inferior caste invited to perform the
meanest services connected with the
ceremony, such as e rinding the rosin;
making the cups of leaves, dressing a
particular offering for the inferior de
mons, supplying the necessaries to tho
Eduras, fee

decorate the building, and assist tba

Kdnras, 6o\ When the kapa, or the
pillar of dedication, is couveved to the
spot under a white canopy accompa
nied with music, the people have rlean
water to wash it thoroughly, aud the
attendants rinse it with a preparation
of milk, sandal and saffron when they
receive advice to stand in order around
it, laying hands on it, uutil the Kdnras
circumambulate them time times, and
pronounce a blessing over tbem.
Immediately afterwards it is con
veyed into the building and placed on
the ground, oa the east of it, with a
little rice, an offering, and a little
flower suspended ou it ; also a cocoauut flower, two cocoanuts, and a binn
ing light. Next the tnrena, * tempo
rary arch, the most important part of
their services is erected aud placed in
an upright position, opposite the en
trance of the building, throwing a vail
before it to prvvrut the attendants from
having a continual view of it. Tba
whole assembly next partakes of tha
food prepared for them, when tho drum
mers report the time by the thundering
Bound of the drums, the attendants as
semble in the building, torches ara
lie.h/cd in all directions, tne singera
answer with their voices, aud all this
continues for some lime without inter
mission. 1 he l'attineva accompanied
by his fellow Kduras, then, with gnat
veneration, arrives at the malvahana,
the flower couch, in which the halcmba
is plact d, when he washes and rinses
it with linie juice and saffron water,
and conveys it walking on while cloth,
spread on the ground for him, under
a while canopy, to the Torena, where,
the instant the Haletnbe is to be placed
on the Torena, an individual standing
by looking at it strikes a cocoanut with
a large bill-hook, and cleaves it into
two. Next the attention of the attend
ants so invited to the Torena, the veil
of which is removed, when they lift up
their elapsed hands above their heads anil
n;l;e obeisance to it, offer up their
offerings on the flaleinbe, und take
their respective seals. Here a second
cocoanut must be broken. .
,
/
The Eduras continue to sing and
dance wiih increasing vigor for two or
three hours, the dance called TelinV,
while the sick persons and others ara
gazing at them, with excited curiosity.
Soon after a little refroshment, another

r a*? ]
dance, called Suduhangele, follows,
Which also' terminates iu a few hours.
Amidst other observances, some of
which are too ridiculous ami insigni
ficant to mention, is the perfornmnc.o
of the twelve modes, Dnlnspaliye, play
ing the violin, blowing the trumpet,
tieing a bntl'ilo, an elephant, wash
ing, tieing a man, and other perform
ances too ridiculous to notice, all which
are mere exhibitions to excite the
laughter of the whole assembly. The
whole proceeding next halts for some
time, when the Kduras change their
dress to a most terrible and awful form
and commence a most striking dance
called diwol, when the singers and
drummers pel form their respective du
ties with as much energy and power
aa they possibly can, v.hil. the kapnwas mote backwards und forwards with
burning torches in their bauds, whirling
them round their heads as rapidly as
lightning, trampling on the sparks of
fire, and muttering incantations and
charms, to the great astonishment and
faar of the assembly. This also ter
minates in a few hour*. Next follows

the ceremony of kiri-ettirlme, boiling

of milk ; three hearths are formed,
over which three pots with rice and
cocoanut milk are placed until they
boil, when they are placed in a row
on the ground, there heint* a scrnen
between them and the Ednras, one or
more of whom pray for a blessing over
the attendants and anoint a little from
them n their foreheads, by which
time it is dawn of day. Tho cer*
rnony is now about to ha concluded.
The Pattiiiibamy for the low party,
and tiie kapuwu for the high, each
person for himself, takes a deer-horn,
and pulls thorn, when two persons from
both parties brcalt cocoanuts, and thu
party that has gained is conducted under,
a while canopy, acc"in.oanied with shout
ings, drums, and dancers, through many
of the streets of the village. On their
return to the building they enjoy a
portion of the food prepared, and then
depart, the Eduras, the washers, tha
drummers, and the watioluwa only con
veying with them a pingo of every ar
ticle collected for the ceremony. Frieud.

E It R A T A.

No. V.
Page 198, stanza XXIX, line 6, for " mass" read " map."

stanza XXX, line 8, for "sublunary

thiugs" read

around"
No. VI.
Page 219, line 5, for "though"

read"

through."

220, line 6, for " ertst" read " ertt."

223, line 2, for for " longer" read " tongue."

e l

'every thing

908

METEOROLOGICAL JOURNAL KKPT ON THE HUNASjGIRIA

RANGE OF MOUNTAINS, AT AN ELEVATION OF
NEARLY 3,000 FEET.

.iii:

Range
Tliw :

Rain
in
of
Inchoj It'T

'revailIng
Wind*.

PREVAILING WEATHER.

lira
67c -,10C vy. N.E.byN Fine day, light shower during night.

M.14

67

y.tf*

Do.

W.16J62

63

66

.igbi

I. 17 63

6:1

67

v:do

N.E.
N.E.

W. 18 60

68

66

ightN.E.byNjFino dry and clear day.

g. 13 61

69

67

y.do

N.E.

s.ao 62

69

60

II vy:

N.E.

Fine clear day ami night

.Slj-60
1.22.60

67

65

Light

N.E.

Fine clear day & nlirht, light wind.

6S

6j

w.23 61

08

6*5

N.E. Fine clear day and night, strong breeze,

Hvy: N.E.byN Fine dry and cloudy day and night.

T.24 62
T.' 6*

69

67

-fiX LiBUt

N.E.

Fine am. light showers pj*.

66

H.-E.

Cloudy day and night 'Light rain.

s.26 61

69

66

-jtOODo.
I
2, Do.

S.27 S3

67

65

N.E. Heavy rain day and night

-,500Hvy:N.E.byN. Showery day and night Strong breeze*.
N.E.

t. 15 62

Heavy and cloudy, day ami night.

Da

Wea. her, .strong brreze.

Fine clear day & night.

Do.

Strang bwesw,

Weather, strong brceae.

Do.'

M.28 61

69

67

-,250 Do.

T. 29 fit

68

66

1,~ vydo. -N.-B. -jFie-.M. heavy rain P.M. showery night

w.30 6t

70

66

-,050 Do.

T. 31 62

68

67

Hvy : N.E.byN- Fine hright & clear day, strung wind.

T. 1

67

61

none,

s. 2

67

61

S. 3

68

63

N.E.

Fine a.m. Showery p.m. and night.

(Cloudy with Utfbt showers, uigbt fine.

Jan.
Fine day strong breexe.
N.E.
Do. Weather, and wind.

none.

Do.

Light

S.F,.

Fine cloudy day and night

M. 4

69

<>l

-.050 Do.

Var.

Tine cloudy day. showery night.

r. t

,68

63

2,

N.E.

lJtfht shower. jum heavy rain p.m.

w. 6

66

02

I,

-Do.

t. 7

67

63

I,

Do.

r.
i.

07

62

1,050 Do.

N.E.

Heavy Wtathe, with frequent showers.

68

63

-.50O1 Do.

N.E.

Showers during the day and night

67
67
68
67
66

61

none
N.E. Fine cloudy day and night
(tight N.E. Fine clear day and night.
1,iivv
N.E. Showery day and night.
l,50(; Do" I.E.byN , Showery day and night
Do. Weather strong breeze.
2, Light N.E.

S. It 66
M.I I 36

1. u cc
w. 13 fiG
T. 14 58
Max:' 70
Mtn: 56
Var.-| 14

64
t,.j

fit
61

'Hvy:

1 Total
4, 350

I.E.byN . Heavv rain a.m. fine night.

I
Var. Fine a.m. heavy rain p.m.

i
.

W. A.

t 2to ]
Register of the thermometer And pluviometer At
MADAWELI,ATBNNE, FOR NOVEMBER 1840.

...

Thermometer

Pluvio
meter.

**'

Remarks.

'

In-|

Not

'A.M 12 o' 6pm cbes. Cts.

1
2
3
4
6
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
M
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
87
28
29
30

70
67
70
70
70
69
71
73
71
73
70
70
72
70
70
68
63
64
66
68
64
70
69
70
68
70
70
69
70
70

76
76
76
76
77
76
76
75
76
76
76
76
77
77
76
79
79
78
80
79
81
82
80
76
75
76
78
79
79
76

74
73
74
75
78
74
75
75
73
74
74
74
74
74
74
74
74
73
74
74
75
74
74
74
73
73
74
73
72
74

1
0
0
0
0
0
2
8
0
1
0
1
1
2
0
0
0
0
0
0
0
0
0
2
2
U
0
0
0
0

73 | 82 | 75

30

Heavy rain.
| 70
1 45 Fine till 12, heavy rain.
Do.
Do.
70
Do.
Do.
91
Do.
Do.
60
61 Cloudy and heavy rain.
Heavy rain all day.
35
Tremendous rain.
0
Cloudy
and showery. I
35
Heavy rain.
; 32
83 Fine in tog. & heavy rain.
Heavy rains all day. .
2
Do.
Do.
Do.
| 80
D'o.
Do. all night.
! 2
Showery at intervals.
35
Warm" bright day.
0
Do.
Do.
0
Do.
Do.
0
Do.
Do.
0
Do.
Do.
0
Do.
Do.
0
Do.
Do.
0
72 Warm till noon & hvy rain
64 Heavy rain cldv. in aflera.
Do.
Do.
94
Shovery.
35
Clondy.
8
Do.
Do.
0
Do.
Do.
0
Showery.
31
15

Maximum.

64 | 75 , 72 |

Minimum.

69

Average.

77

73

The temperature la
taken in a verandah
with an exposed easterly
aspect but the thermo
meter within the house
is from 4 to 6 degrees
luwer at midday during
the warm sunny days,
but about equal during
rainy or cloudy wea
ther. The weather of tills
month has been of the
most favorable kind;
the few fine days ena
bled Planters to get
under a portion ef the
heavy crop of accumu
lating Weeds to the des
truction of which at
tention has ) rincipally
been given ; the spares
vacant by deaths or
accidents hae been
filled up by renewals.
The Wants wear a very
luxuriant appearance,
on the whole ; the 8th
of the month brought
a heavy storm of rain
which continued in tor.
rents for 4 or 6 hours,
doing immense injury
to the Pnd.1 fields and
roads. The total quan
tity of rain during the
month amounts to 30
inches 15 cents.
KOBBE GALLA.

CEYLON MAGAZINE
.!>.t

No. VII.

',

' '

March,

1841.

Vox. I.
dJ... i mmn*

THE READER.

No. Vlt.
MILTON's PARADISE BKGAIJJED.

S'on satis est pulchra ease poffmala; dulcia sunto,

fct, quotumqua volc.nl, uuiuiuin auditaris, agunto.
Horat: Dt Arte Poetica, 99.
imTAtitift
Beauty alnflp in pnems eantiot please;
Nor All the writer's most elaborate easej
Hut sweeties, once infiisrd into the son!,
Thought, passion, feeling,all it doth control.
,
Anonymous*

Sternness and power are the attributes commonly ascribed to MilnJh's genius. In these his strength unquestionably lies. But grace
and beauty and sweetness, cs|>eciubly iti Comns and Lycidas, his
early poems, and in the poem befot-c Its, which was bis laRt.-'-boih.
in his language and the melody of his Verse, will not be denied to this
2Tat poet by any critic of taste and judgment. " In others," it
has been remarked, " poetical language seems a sort of cover, a gilding ;
lit Miltcti it is a part and essence <ff the thought.1' And as in
no writer are strength and beauty rritite eminently combined, the
beauty of thought wits never clothed in mdre spiritual and melodi
ous diction.
At a touch a ' picture or a character rises before the reader. How
!ovly a picture is presented, in one line, of " the hank of Jordan,
by a creek,
Where, winds with rtei* and ositrt whispMila ptatf."

. iLJ/. 26.

261

.Again, in the same book, at a second consultation of the "demonian spirits," in which Satan gives an account ol his unsucccssfnl attempt upon the second Adam,
" Willi more, than human gifts from Heaven adora'd,
Perfection* absolute, graces divine,
And umpliiu.ii! of uiind to greatost^Wdsj''

Belial is described in n few introductory lines which make our

very cars instruct us in his sensual character. He advises the temp*
tation of women. The whole is worthy of citation for the exquisite
ait of the poet.

" From amidst tbero rose

BttttitDn-Mtteiutcst spirit (hat fetl\
The sensna]ksl,*Hni, aft* Asmodai,
1 he Hi shliett Inrnhiis; and thus advised.
Set women in his eye anil tn his walk,
Among daughters of men the fairest found:
Many are In each region passing fair
As tbe noun sky ; more like to goddesses
Than mortal creature- /graceful and discreet,
Expert in amorous arts, enchanting tongues
IVrsinlei-re, Virgin majesty with mild

.. -

And.sweetellay'd, yet tcrHble to npproaeh,

fiWll'd to retire, and, in retiring, draw
Heart* after litem tangled in mhorous nets.
Such object iath the power to soften said farroa
Severest temper, smooth the nigged'st brow,
Enerve, and Villi vb'.uptuous hope dissolve,
Draw out with credulous desire, aod lead
At will the. imnrtliwst, resolutest breast,
As the magnetick hardest iron draws.
Women, when nothing else, negwiTdllre He*tt
Of wisest Solomau, attd made him buil d,
And made him bow, to tbe Goda of his wives."
m.ki. H9I71.

The first -lines of this extract, (such are commentators,) have

'been placed among Milton's " inharmonious passages." They ate
in perfect harmony with untune, a .portrait of truth, a picture
"to the life; while the rest " discourses most excellent music." These
is a noble passage respecting the same false spirit .in the second
:->x>k of Parddtse Lost, with wlrich this portrait ia in pctluot keeping.
1 ;
* Hi* tongue
Dropt manna, nd. could mal* the ntwrikpfmi
.the-better reason, to perplex cud dash

262- ]

JJaturestccunieUt/er his thouahtsiccre low;

To vice industrious."
%. X.

B. II. 112.

As a moral contrast, and not inferior in Us execution, I will

extract a lew lines of Satan's reply to. Iieliaj's, " dissolute" speech.
"What woman will you find,
Though of this age the wonder and tbe fame,
On whom his leisure will vouchsafe ail eye
Of fond desire? Or. should she, cuu&lonjf,
M sitting queen ador'd on Beauty's throrwy
Descend with all ber winning charms begirt
To enamour, as the zone of Venus once
Wrought that effect on Jove, so fables tell ;
How would one loot/run his mnjestick brow,
Stated as on the top of Virtue's hill,
Discountenance ber despised, and put to rout
MX her array ; ber female pride deject,
Or turn to-reverent awe './or beauty stands
In the admiration only nfweak minds
Led captive ; cease to admire, and all her plumes
Fall tat, and shrink into a trivial ton,
At every sudden slighting quite abash'd."
P. II. 208224,

Another passage, of kindred style and perfection, I cannot omit,

Jl is the feast artfully proflcicd, and disdainfully rejected by our
Saviour, The 'tempter tpowing that " lie lmnger'd, where no food
Mas to be Ion ml, in'- the wide wilderness," resolves, though obviously
without hope of success, to tempt' him with food. The whole scene
is beautifully conceived. . He finds Jesus musing on the sensation
f hunger, as expecting U to be tbe subject of, further temptation.
" It was the hour of night, when thus the Sob.
CommencM in silent walk, then laid him down
Under the hospitable covert nigh
Of trees thick interwoven ; there he slept,
And dresm'd u appetite is wont to dream,
Of meats and drinks, nature's refreshment sweet:
IJ'un thought, htt bg tbe brook oj Cheritli si cud,
And saw the ravens with their lining beaks
foodJo Elijah bringing, even and morn,
Though ravenous, taught to abstain from what they l/roiifilit."

B. II 3S<> 2*Vi<

The morning conies, and our Saviour awakes, and 'Mound nil was
but a dream " I pass a lovely uiuniu >l lUe morning, to briu^
the Tempter and' the Sou of (j!od beiore the leader. He tiiiiL huu

f. 36S I
jut*, arises; and, after -flu artful prelude, "be present* . ...uUraJ
ieati.

u-,. .'.,
Nalure asham'd, or, be tt. -' tn Bxprvss,
Troubled, that thnu should'M hunger, bath vurvev'd
l'roi all the element; her choicest store,
1o treat thee, ns beseems, and as her herd,
With honour : only deign tu sit and eat.

"

He spaVe no dream ; fur, as his words had -r.l,

Our Saviour lining up his eyes beheld,
Jn ample sjiaoe under the broadest shade,
A table richly spread, in regal mode.
With dishes pil'd, and meat-> of noblest sort
And savour ; beasts of chase, or fowl of game.
In pastry built, nr from the spit, or boil'd,
Griserober sleaoVd: all fish, from sea or shore.
Freshet or purling brook, of shell or fin,
All 1 esquisitest natne,-for which was drained
Pontus and I.ucriuf bay, and Afriek coast , Alii-, how simple, to these catrs convpar'd,
Was Uiat^-rude apple Umt diverted, Ert !) -

---..' ** . -

_".-

And at a stately sideboard, by the wine

That fragrant smell diffus'd, in order sHod
Tall stripling youths rich clad, of fairer hue
When Ganymed or Hylas; distant more
Under the trees now tripp'd, now solemn slooj,
NymphK of Piana's train, aud Naiades
With fruits and flowers from JmaWicn't lior.it,
And ladies (if the Hesperides, that sceui'd

. r

Fairer than feign'd of old, or fabled siucv.

Of fairy damsels, inet in forest wide

By knights of Logros, or of Lyones,

Lancelot, or rVUeas, or lVllenorc..
And all Ihe while harmonious airs were heard
Of chiming strings, or charming pif*es , andwiuds, Of gentlest gale Arabism odours fmvn'd

j. .

From thar sort wings, ami plum's earliest smtells.

Such was the splendour i ami the Tempter now
His invitation earnestly renew'd.
What doubts the Sou of Gou to it and eat '
These are not fruits forbidden ; do interdict

- -

Defends the touching of these viands pure ;

Their taste no knowledge works, at least of TiJ,

.-.

., ^j.. ..

264

But Ufa preserves, destroys life's enemy,

Hunger, with sweet restorative, delight.
All these are spirits of air, and wpodjt, and spr!rtgst
Thy gentle minister*, who come to pay
Thif homage, uttd acknowledge time their Lord."
B. U. 33137C.
A more exquisite picture ' was never drawn. We almost hear the
umsii , and smell tire perfume ol the " iruiis an1] flowers from Arnullheas horn," -ami behold the atlenduiits " fairer line than Gany:ncd or Hytes."' These things are of course rejected by our I/old,
who, in a style as different us it is perfect, says, " lie can at will
Command a ulMe in ilie wilderness,
And call swift fliuhts of Angels minis! rant
Arrayed in glory on his cup attend."
'* '
B. II. 384.-386.

The magical disappearance of the (east .villi ',' the sound of harpies'
wiQgs" instead of "flights Of Angels," needs no comment.
" Myth tattle and prurbucm vmjished quite .
With sound of harpies' wings and talons heard."
B. y. 401.

Virgil's well known lints are bere imitated.* Bui Milton did
not' borrow from 'poverty. He adopted from choke, and made
the passage his own! I reluctantly turn over the loaves of this
noble and delightful poem, which is "a perpetual feasi ol ncctnr'd
sweets" from beginning to eiid. Of tl,ie- picturesque* in painting
(be following passage, in the third book, is an example above ajl
praise. Every Hue is a picture.
It was a mountain at whose verdant feet *
. . ...
.
*
t
A spacious plain, oiits*,retcl|'d in circuit wide,
Lay pleasant; from his side two rfrers nWf),
The one winding, the other straight, and left between
Fair chatnpain with less rivers intervelu'd,
Then meeting tniu'd their tribute to the sea:
fertile of corn the globe, of oil, and wine;
With herds tha pastures throngM, with flocks the hills ;
At snbitte horrifjeo lapsu de montehut. .d-tin t
Jlarnviie, et umgnis iiualiunt claqgoribus alas;
> '.
Diripiuntquo dupes.
..'..
...- '...
... ,^En. HI. S33.
This is on* of those passages in which the classic languages have
an obvious superiority, it is uot translateablo into our language. Milton is
nearest to the original in his verse. But in conception he appropriate* the
passage to himself. In Virgil the harpies are seen. In Alillon they uro only
heard. The dim mysteriousness, and the invisibility of the " harpies* wings
and tajons" which can only be "heard," give an inexpressible charm to tho scene.

265

Huge cities and- higher, tower'd that weH,uughten>(

The seajs of mightiest monarch* ; and so larg
TIn prospect .ij, that bere and there was room
For barren ilasart, fountainletts and dry."
B. III. 2.53-2M.

This is followed by a. -bird's-eye view of the most famous anci

ent cities,Nineveh " built by Ninusv of old
" Babylon the wonder of all tongues j

Bcbatana her structure vast there shows,

And Heomtonu)jlo her hundred gates;
There Susa by Choaspes, amber stream,
The driiil; of uoue but kings."
B. III. 280280.

The very names of places sound gloriously in Milton's verse.

He next describes most inugnifieently the warlike host, composed;
of various nations, of "the Parthian Kiu >> Ctesiphou."
" We look'd ami saw what numbers numberles*
The' city gaiosi out jioar'd, liglit-aruied troops^
In coals of ian,il and military pride j
In mail their horses clad, yet fleet anfl,slong,
Prancing their riders bore, the flower and choice
Of many provlBcos from bound to bound ;
From Aruchosia, from Cauda ir east,
And Margiaua to the Hyrcaiiian cliffs
Of Caucasus, and dark Ibeiiuii daks;
From Atropatia and the. neiglibpujing plains
Of Adiuhene, Media, and the south.
Of Susiana, to Balsara's haven.
He saw them in their forms of battle rang'd ;

. .,

How ejuick tbey wheel'd, and living behind them shot

Sharp, sleet of arrowy showers against the face
Of their pursuers, mil overcame by flight;
The flelJ nil iron caU a gleaming, brown :
Nor wanted clouds of foot, nor on each horn
Cuirassievs all, in stopl for standing fight,
Chariots, or elephants indors'd with towers
Of archers.;. nt>r of labouring pioueera

A multitude, with spades and au avou'd

To lay liills plain, fell woods, or valleys fill,
Or whore plain was raise bill, or emrloy
With brh.lges rivers proud, at with a yoke ;

2M

\iuiei fiTler tiicso, camels and drmne.luriao, ..

And waggons, fraught with utensils of war.
Such forces met not, nor so wide as amiss,
Whim Agikjan With all his northern powers
Bcseig'd Albrac'ca, ua ronnrt'ces tell,
The city of Gillaphrone, froni whence to win
1 he fairest of lier sex Angelica,
His daughter, sought by many prowest knights,
Both I'ltynim, and the peers of Charlemuin
Such and so numerous was their chivalry."
8. III. 310344.

The Inst passage t shatl now extract is of a very different cha

racter. It is that hopeless expression of nttiT 'hopelessness, which
I rcfered to fn my rttsi'tssny, as even fitter, because much strong-'
er, than Ae patallcl pa.sstiu,e in Paradise Ix>st. The despair in this
instance is so intense that Satan atfeciingly turns to the Sun of
iUid, uliom .be is templing, atid almost entreats him to
" Stand between biro and his Father'* ire."
" All hope is lust
iMmy reception iuto urace : what worse ?
For where no hope is le/l. is lejt no/tar :
If there be worse, the expectation more
tffimrtx torments me than the feeling can.
/ would be at the worst : worst is my port,
My harbour, and my ultimate repose ;
Uhe end I would attain, my final good.
My error was my error, and my crime
-

My crime ; whatever, for itself too coudumn'd .

And will alike be punish'd, whether thon
Jleigu or reign not ; though to that gentle brow

Willingly eould 1fly, and hope thy reign,

from that placid asj ect and much regard,
Bather than aggravate my evil state,
Would stand between me and thy Father's ire,
( Whose ire I dread more than the fire of Hell)
A shelter, and a hind of shading cool
fntcrpotition, o a summer's cloud. "
B. III. 204222.

Rich as our language is in poetical beauties I know nothing in

the whole range of English poetry more exquisite of its kind than
this transition from the vehemence of despair to something like
hope.
B.

2fS7

rTflffnal orrirajponBrtttrl

A CEYXON MECHANICS' INSTITUTE;

to the editor 01 the ceylon magazine.

Sir,
1 have read with ijluel* interest tbe letter on the subject of " > Mecha
nic*' Institute for Ceylon" which appeared in your last number and I uusi
that you Will not deny me room for a "few hasty remarks thereon.
t cordially agrse with your correspondent "Lanka" as to the beneficial results
likely to arise from the establishment of such an Institution in this Island,
t agree with him, also, in thinking (tint government should support such an
undertaking. Are not the officials anil merchants Interested id the moral
enJ intellectual advancement of those in their service? Most assuredly tl)ey
are, and I donbt not the idea beitig liberally entertained by them. The
system, however, might be carried out much further than "Lanka" propose?.
V by should not its benefits be extended! to the great body of Singalese and
Malaburs? I would have Lectures on the different branches of Agriculture,'
Coffee and Sugar planting, the growth of Cotton, Tndlgo, Silk, &c. &c. with
a model room for the exhibition of Agricultural and Mechartlral implements.
There should also be small prizeseither money or medals for any improve
ments in the mode of cultivating grains, vegetable^, and fruits, or In the
Tools See. employed by natives in their Agricultural pursuits, which although
bat trifling In themselves, would tend to stir up a spirit of encfuiry and emu
lation amongst our native papulation, particularly if the names of the parties
obtaining the prizes were made public. Therte are merely hints made on the
spur of the moment, but T think them worthy of some reflection should the
proposed scheme be carried out. I may here remark tlu>t I cansider the
fcrmotiort of the Institution should originate with the Committee of the
IVttah Library; they should solicit the cn-operation of some of the Kuropean
jentleirten of Colombo, both clerical and lay, and the joint , committee should
thru take such steps as might appear advisable for the speedy attainment
of their object. Hoping ere long to be a, member of " the Ceylon Meoba
its" Institution,"
' .
I remain,
., . ' <".
. Yeur'a faithfully,
:>0 & CEYLONESE.
Cclomii, February 2d, 1841.

Twas when tfae'oVw 6feWiitnjj fe& '* " "

Oil rising hill and sloping dell", '
<'
And shod a peari i*erry; flower,
That bloomed in that idl lovely hour.
"Twas Summer's zenith, and the sky
Breathed forth a 4ch tranquillity ; "'' "' ''
And in the west the closing ray
.*' .
Still seemed lo linger with the day, , , , .
And cast a,last and parting beam,
Of golden sunlight, till the glow
In one unbroken vivid stream,
Seem'd mirror 'd buck froin all below.

All- dimly waned the russet grey,

And faintly fell each streak of light ;
, ,
The latest hues uf sunny day . ., /
,., . ,. , Were merging, into stilly night,
. t
And field, and forest died away,
'And seem'd to wing their lingri'tig flight,
''
:"liike wiihei'd hopes that dnce were bright,
Bufdoomed to silent, slow decay.
it I. Tig sweet to bear at evening time,
The curfew's deep and solemn chime.
And in that mild and gentle hour
To find within the heart the power
To think with calmness on the ptut,
With all its joy and all its grief, t
And from lliethom of pain at last,,
, To pari the rpse of soft relief ;
, , .,, .
....
To feel pgain the joy that erst,
in early years the stoim disperst ;
That soothed the pang and dried the tear.
And made this waste of earth appear
A lovely 'spot where beauty dwelt,
To feel again as once we felt,
The sparkling light that lived alone ,, .
In some departed beings eyes,
Which we in rapture deemed our own.
And all the many fallacies
That cling to manhood's glowing spring,
When life is fresh on pleasure's wing,
1 1

![

"269

When fervent as the solar beam

Was young affections anient dream,
The dream ol'yoi>lh-ere-tinie and care
Had blighted hopes and projects lair ;
Or thought lfa"d power the cuj> to drain,
And leave the bitter dreg oi j aiu.

3.
Like music 'nrnrmuringftn the ear,
The waves of Avon'flow'd itlong ;
And as the watersri]*pled nenr,
Their -sounds 'were melh>w'<l into song,
While wood-birds wtkl their vespers trill'rj,
And earth -and shy with mtreiclrll'd,
And softly sigh 'd the air between
The waving boughs' bedeck 'd with green,
Of willow trees that grew beside
All droopingly the sparkling tide.
It wits- a- spot where nature smWed
In rich luxuriance sweetly wild;
A scene that might have raised a glow
In hearts u> chill ns Alpine enow,
And- kindled. passions- long decayed.
And tired the breast that time had made
The willn-r'd case ol feelings fled,
Affections lionet iug with thr dead ;
And hopes that long had learn "d to brave
The iiown ol death, and seek the grave.

Upon the River's bank appear'd,

In stern and stately grandeur Tear\J,
A castle llank'd by ditch and wall.
And b.ubican and beetling tower,
Thai guarded well the lendal hall
Where Warwick mled with legal power.
And as upon its walls ofgrey,
The latest sun-beams dietl away,
Q'Jiey seein'd to tell a talc til ^loum,
And till tiic gazer's heart with dread,
And things ol Laik and dreadful Joom,
The visions ol lii.n silent dead
Seem Id by the fancy's aiighty spoil
To peer from every dungeon cth!.
Hie watch is setthe sentries keep
Their vigil on the timers steep ;
'i he stars are forth and suVuce reigns
O'er ^mace^y Warwick'* xhj doti Minx

'[ ft ]
5.
Across the Tar extending 'tfieHd,
'tA'siiigleWseulun urged bis steed,
'Whose Ycclcihg flanks add broken pSie,
:,A'nd ftirtm -as 'wliiteas OcfcttVspray,
Bespoke a long and weary race;
And on the rider's corslet lay
The gnlher'd dustyet on he sped
"Unril he jmss'd the River's ted';
Then curving swiftly ronnd the stWe,
He stood ihe castle ditch-before.
"Who -goes without? " the Wartier crield,
"One THio;has stood by WftrAvicVSMde
"From'dawn of day till fall ofiirghi,
"In listed held and battle fi>ght.
"Say that Str'Emesi Trevor waits
"Admission at his castle gates.
Slowly the huge portcullis rose,
And harsly creak d each ponderous chain,
Foi 'twas a lime when hostile foes
Induced "L'oi'd Warwick to su'slain
His Castle's strength by all the iics
That art 01 science could devise.
But well the warder kriew lifs gu'est.j
And flinging bull and bar aside,
Tift massy |mi fa(s opened wide,
Anil o'er the bridge Sir Ernest prest,
An'd leaping froth hfs g'a'Iaht'ste'ed,
That well had Served his utihbsl need.
He tjuieklv pas's'd the Court yard o'er
And eulerd at (lie portal door.

The Hall Was bedeck 'd and the feast wtft' spread,
Lord Warwick himself graced the tabic head ;
And round him were gather 'd as brave a band
As ever unsheathed a Warrior's brand.
They had gallantly bated then battle Llla'dcs,
In the stilling tunes ol the leiice Crusades ;
They had seen the sun of victory shine
On the shores of the distant Palestine.
There was music to them in the gathering hum,
By the loerlien Made when llfey 'onward come.
But they thought not now ol the goiy plain,
The Moments of danger, the boors of jnrin,
But joyously sat in their polished steel,,
With the golden spur on each knightly heel ;
The scarf on each, corsletr the bright reward
For the splinlei'd lance and the shiver'd sword.

[ '271

TIipv rrlock'd in their revels the darksome nighty

And the lamps were flushing a dazzling light.
Each bosom wns rind, each hand was upheld
With a sparkling draught, and each spiijl swell'd
As they drniued each cup to old England's natne
Her -soldier'* renown and her spotless fame.

Sir Ernest was thcicr, but his cheek wns pale

As the snuwy scarf on his coat of Mail.
And little he reck'd of the banquet sound,
And little he heeded the group around-;
The clash of the wine cups, the wassail's din,
His eyes were turned oti his spirit within ;
And lie pass'd the goblet utHnsted by
With a downcast look nud a drooping eye.
8.
Upon his brow there was'the stain
Of deeply rooted inward pain ;
The cureless wound that scorns relief,
And glories in its cherished giief.
Mot grief that like volcanic tires
.
Bursts madly forth and then expires}
Nor like the sudden summet siorm
Sleeps on with wild and feailnl form,
When lightnings rent the lurid sky, .
And thunders peal from plain lo plain,
And then like magic pusses by.
And all is fair and bright again.
But such as palsies hear! and limb,
And makes the eye of beauty dim ;
That sprinkles raven locks wilh grey, .,
And irotn the cheek extracts away
Tlie jovous hue and withers up
The spirits sap by slow degrees.
This is to taste the bitter cup,
And diain it to it's very lees- .
., ,
9.
It was. the hgsh'd and stilly time,
When on ibe uit the midnight chime
MiiJ ceased* and all lay mute around, ..
When on. Uk terrace top, that lrowi*4 ..
Above the Avon's gentle flood,
' . ,i.,
Loid. Warwick and Sir Ernest stood. ..

[ 2*2

" Sir Ernest on thy pallid cheek

"A mute yet fixt expression tells
"Of grief that words are vain to speak ;
"And in thine eye the fever dwells,
"That marks the latent inward strife,
"The wasting flame that bums away,
"All silently the spirits life,
"In manhood's best and brightest day.
10.
"My Lord of Warwick I have sped
"To reach thy halls since break of day,
" When from the eastern Ocean's bed,
"The sun emerged to light my way,
"Yet come 1 not lor festvie hours,
"Or music's strain in courtly bowers ;
" I come to crave the mighty aid
"Of thee and all thy knightly throng,
"To win with lance and battle blade,
"A deep revenge for burning wrong.
11.
" Say on, Sir Ernest, for I ween
"Thine is no wild or idle tale ;
"And by yon bright star's silver sheen,
"If faith there be in knightly mail
"Or crested helm or soldiers sword,
"Thy wrongs shall eain a swift reward.

12.
"My Lord of Warwick well I know,
"Yon have one stern unyielding foe,
"Whose smiling form and heart of guile
"Finds favor 'ncath a Monarch's smile.
" Piefs Gavastou that hated name
"Thnt wither'd all my budding fame,
"And in the hour of morning's prime
"Made lip as dark as midnight time.
"I had a Sisterfoiter far
"Than glowing fancy's dreamy star ;
"Chaste as the pearl content to sleep
" Silent beneath the trackless deep"And giving to the gazer's eye,
"That deep impress of majesty,
"That all absorbing nameless spell;
"The glance that makes the guileless soul,
"Which makes the bosom Ilea ve and swell,
"Like Ocean whau its billows roll.

2i

"Piers saw her loved her-^but Ms breast

" Burnt with a fierce anhallow'd flame,
" He was a free a welcome guest,
"My Sire esteemed bis gallant name-;
"Curse on the hour, when first he came,
"It heralded a Sister's shume,
"Poor Emily thy soul was free
"As-sining mortals e'er may be-,
" Till that accurst deceiver rent
"Thy bosom's firmest battlement ;
"When honor, virtue, reason fled
"Away Irom that polluted bed,
" O'er which no Parent's payer was given-;
"Unblestby Man, unblest by Heaven.
"That one unguarded fatal hour
"When passion ruled with burning power-,
" And Gavaston, with flushing eye,
"Gazed pioudly on his victory,

"As when some Town that many an hour

"Has braved the fieree besiegers power,
" Whose walls of strength have long withstood
" Its foes assaultits children 's blood :
"But spite of all the brave have doue,
"At length the shatter'd City's won,
" With a slaughter as red as the setting Sun.
"Then is the victor's joyful hour :
" lie sees at his feet the leVelW loner,
"And spurs his courser o'er the plain,
"Thickly strewn with the gory slain,
"Then indeed is his time of piide,
" Crush 'd is the toe who hueij defied^,
" And he alone their force could quell,
"He alone had might to fell;
"The City dirm'd impreguable,
"And thus it was that Piers surveyed,
"The helpless ruin lie had made.
"With demon-glance that darkly lowers,
"WbeB brightest, swecksi, purest flowtrt,
"That Earth coiituins or 1 lcav n can \ield,
"Lie swept and wither 'd on tin; field.
" Oh ! G od that one false sh'p should bring,
"So deadly and so deep a sting,
"That only one concession made,
"How silently and swiftly fada"The moral beauties of the mind,
"And like the filial passing wind,
. "When, all absorb'd by Summer besMs!
"They fada as dim as Madman's drtmvfe ;

[ '2*4

"O'er the lost heart resign their sway,

" Aud all beyond is but decay.
14.
"Time sped away with merry wing,
"Till Winter pass'd and o'er the jilade,
"The lovely gifts of car!)' Spring,
" Were in their brightest hues nrray'd ;
"And then the traitors deed was known,
"But 'twas too late the slave had flown.
"As bursts upon the startled ear,
"The Alpine torrent wildly crashing,
" So came that tale of grief and lear
"Upon my thrilling heart-string dashing.
"My heart within my bosom grew,
"Till (it to burst its narrow cell,
"And from my belt my blade I drew
"And swore hy all of Earth and Hell;
"My hopes in Hie, my thoughts of Heaven
"To strike a full requitiug blow,
"To live accurst, to die unshriven,
"Should I my deal revenge forego.
' >
"But tfmily around me clung,
_
"And from n y lips a promise wrung,

"That (or a tune, though brief it were,

" I would renounce the hot desire,
"Of swift requital and her prayer,
"Restrained iny passions outward fire.
"Bui iu my bosom's inmost seal,
"They burnt with a destroying heat; ;
"Consumed the light mid Hilling iniin
"()! Ituliugs that I then deem'd vain:
"Calcined them to one shapeless heap
"Of vengeance deadly durk and deep.
15.

,:
"My Father bow'd belon; the storm, "1 saw it in his sinking fuim,
" 1 rnark'd it in his drooping eye,
"Sow idly bent on vacant \ ;
"He dud 1 stood beside 'his bier,
"With thoughts too deep to yield n Icar; '
"I luingied iu ibe dark array,
- - ''
"That Lore his lifeless lonn away ;
" And near the Fathers of our race, ;,"'
" We made bis si ten I resting phic*. ..",. "

2W- ]

16.
"I strove to cheer my Sister's mind,
"And fondly deemed that *he mi- In find,
" A brolher's love afford relief,
"And sooifae her liiukeu spirits grief.
" Vain hope, I saw her day by day,
" In silent sadness lade away ;
" She thank'd me for my kind caress,
"But willi no smile of joyousnesSy
"And though of pain no word was spokeri,
"Full well I ween'd her heart was broken.
" I<asl night she breathed her last of Earth,
"Benealh the fOof that gave her birth.
"She press'd my hand and sfioke of meeting,
"The Iricnds whose forms were round her Heeling;
"Wept with many a bitter sigh,
"Her loss of maiden purity.
"Of Piers she spoke but my troubled brain,
'* Her gentle wids could not retain,
"Something she inurniur'd of love and Heaven,
" And something of hope and being forgiven,
" I had iio words for in that hour,
" I soem'd bereft of mortal power,
" for lidlc deeni'd I that auybl so sweet, .
" So sad and so early a fate conld meet ; .
" She feebly rose and her tear dinim'd eye,
" From point to point of lite landscape run.
"The glowing tints of the Summer sky, ,
"The latest beams of the setting sun.
** Sadly she gazed for too well she knew,
"That never again the gentle Mtie,
"Of thai sky conld on net eyelids beam,
"Nor valley, nor hill, nor mountain slieam;
"And though the morrow's loveliest ray,
"Might shine on her foim yet far away'
"The spiiil would wander pure and fiee,
" Stamp'd with ihe seal of eternity.
"Her trembling lips essay 'd a sound,
" But perished ere a passage found.
"Yet she seem'd refresh 'd as the evening's breath,
"Stole with a sigh in the chamber. of death,
"And with it the sad and mournful strain,
"Of the distant Convent's vesper bell,
" And as on her ear its cadence fell
"She murmnr'd a gentle prayer again.
" She press'd her hand on her forehead white,
"Which rapidly grew as dark as night,
"Though but for an instant it glided o er,
"As a cloudlet passes the noonday sun,
"The spirit but struggled a moment more,
"And her sorrows were past, her pangs were done.

t -r. f
17.
'" j knijw Hot hotv the night was spent, v "'
"How the maddening moments went,
"Foi ray blood was like a flaming tide,
" As I stood in v Sister's couch beside ;
"There was a something in my brain,
' -'Twits more than agony of paib;
"Ol bitter thoughts a gaiheJing throng, !
"A deep &Wi burning sense of wrong; *- '
" Bui just *s sunny morn was breaking,
" And all creation Seem'ti awaking,
"t ulu'fk'd n rosl", a lovely gerri
." V\ hich oVerbow'd its parent stem;
"And placed it With a bitter sigh,
* And rapid gush ul ttumbry;
"Which made my very centre thrill,
" Upon that bosom cold and still.

.,

. *

*-

"Twas morn and at the Castle gate,

*'My noble war-horse saddled stood,

" And in my heart the deadliest hate,
"Was craving for the traitor's blood.
"Yet once again I tnrhed to see,
"The form that was so dear to me,
"And gafterj iipbrt that snowy breast,
*Ndw rridtionless a kiss 1 "pi est
ViUpoh her lips it was the last,
>fMy gHthti'd tears fell thick and fast,
"1 could not then their flow restrain
"They gush'd like flames across mV hrairt.
'"They scbrch'd My soul, they Sooin'd me not.
"I started wildly froHl the Spot,
"And splitting on my trusty steed,
,
"These lighter feelihgs quickly fled,
"1 thought but of one desperate deed,
" And all beside was still and dead.
"My tale is doneand t am here,
"To claim a vengeance deep and dearj
"My treasured though neglected vowj
" Shall earn its strict fulfilment now.
, "And be it soSir Ernestwe ,. !
"Will bear thee goodly company, .,"With heait and hand, and than shalt find
"That knight and serl and peasant hind.
K 2

277

" Can firmly strike when vengeance calls.

"With morning! light we will away,
" And Deddington'a embattled walls,
"Ere night shall see a fatal fray."
21The tun was np, the summoning barn
Saluted well ll.e Summer's mum;
The trumpets sounded, loud and sbnll,
The vassajs came from the distant bill,
The peasants answer 'd their Lur,d's behest,
To fight for his young and gallant guest j
They upward came and each serving mao.
Was arm'd with buckler and panizau.
With ashen spear;, and whittle strong.
They were in sooth a goodly throng;
All silently the matron wept,
As forth her. sou to battle sttpt,
But the grey-hair'd Man exulting blest
T'ue } t*uth who on to the cortege prest,
The serf forsook his collage side,
With a parting tear for his lovely bride.
22.
There breaks on the ear a gathering hum,
And the rising sound of a distant drum ;
It swells on the wings of the morning gale.
With the ring of aims and the crash ol mail.
The warriors dash o'er the velvet plain,
With the martial trumpets ! echoing straiti ;
The courser speeds ou his. gallant career,
Bedeck 'd with the mantling and frontal ipeat ;
The riders they heed not peril or toil,
They think but of conquest and coming spoil.
23.
'TVas noon-tide hour and every hand,
That could unsheatb a battle brand.
Knights and Serfs and Yeomen tall,
Were gather 'd before the Castle wall:
Beady to fight and ready to die,
At their noble chieftain's battle-cry.
24.
The knights appear'd, each glittering crest.
Surmounted a brave and Swelling breast.
With pennon 'd lance where beauty's tear,
Had left one spot of. rust more dear

[ 27f 3
Thim ven the loud inspiring cry,
Ol' conquest and of victory.
25.
arl Warwick his favorite steed bestrode,
Sir Ernest beside him in silence rode.
Be was us hardy and stalwart a knight,
As ever broke lurice in the battle" $_g$i ;
And he fell in his heart a 'passing thrill,
Ol pleasure' as' that gallant throng,
Pass'd in their stately files along ;
For they promised revefigfe 'for deadly ill ;
And he in his earlier hours had been,
Merry of heart and joyous of mien,'"'
Bm the time was past the darksome cloud,
Jiis manly heart to the earth had bow'd;
Yet now1 his eye was 'gleaming bright.
With something of its former light, '
And iri his heart the' thirst of fame,'
WaS bursting forthwith fiercer flame;
He felt the fire of youth' again.
Which in his heart haft'dormant Jain,
Tb her\'e his arm as he siiryeyd,
That stern and watlike cavalcade,
Aud Warwick whisper'd lit his ear,
"The hour of deep revenge is near;
"Our gallant bands march gaily on,
"To night We test at Deddingtou.

MARRIAGE CUSTOMS
or THE

Br J. Oe Alwis.
oo
Manriagft ia regarded hy the natives (especially by the Kandians) as a matter
of inconsiderably importance. They have no notion of the sacredncss of its
institution. Even that portion of the Singhalese, who in fact are Christians
think it a matter of little or no consideration. In the hilly parts of Ceylon ,
Polygamy is tolerated to a tfreat extenta much greater extent than in any
other parts of the Island. This custom of the Singhalese is often attended
with serious consequences, and very frequently leads to murder. I think I
can aafely assert thai almost every murder that is committed in the Kadiati

f '279 ]
province! is owing to the unsettled and confused state of the families of the
natives. Although this barbarous custom is tolerated to suVh an extant id
this Island, as to be the cause of shedding the blood of more than a score
of human beings during one year; yet we find that no steps hare ai yet
keen taken, by the British Government to prohibit a ftarbaroii* uuiou which
is by no means allowed by either the Christian, or the Buddhietiral Religion.
The command of Buddha is similar to, and exactly coincides with, the de
claration of our Lord, in his "Sermon on the Mount" (Malt. v. 27, 28)
" Ye hare heard that it was said by tbom of old time, Thou shalt not commit
adultery: But I say unto yon that whosoever looketh on a woman to lust
after her, hath committed adultery with her already in his hiarC
The marriage custom* of the ancient Jews, exactly corresponds with
those of the Singhalese. We rend of Polygamy to have been tolerated
even among "God's 'chosen people."The Scriptures furnish us with an
account, thai even Abraham, "the father of the faithful" and "the friend
of God" had a plurality of wives. The Kitfgs of Kahdy are said to have bad
an immense number of concubines with a queen over them, called " the Queen
f""onsnrt"; so, Abraham had II agar and Ketura as hie concubines, and Sarai
as Hia wife, who exercised power and authority over the others(Gen. xxx. 9, 10.)
The children of the concubines', or " inferior wives" of the Kandiari kings,
of whom we read in the records handed down to us, did not inherit their
parent's property} nor had they any right to aspire fo the Throne, except
ou failure of issue by tne "primary or mbre honorable wives"; so likewise,
the children of linger and Keturn neve distinguished from Isaac (the son of
Sarai) ; for it Is said Abraham " gave them gifts, and sent them away while
he yet lived" (Gen. xxv. 5', 6.)We know that it is a enstom still prevalent
among the Singhalese to contract inurria re in and after the manner of a
purchase. It was juat so with the Jews; for instance (in Gen. xxix. 18 &c.)
we find that Jacob served Laban seven years Tor Rachel', and another seven
for Leah, in almost every minute particular there Is a wonderful coincidence
with the customs and manners of the ancient Jews, as compared with those
of the Singhalese.
No very peculiar formalities appear to he in use among the Kandian* in
joining man and wife together. The manner in which a daughter is given
in marriage to a young man, is in one respect like that of the Chinese, who
are prevented from seeing their wives till they are sent home. A woman
prior to her marriage is not allowed to be seen by her intended husband.
He knows nothing of her look Or person; but from the informations of his
mother, or some female relative, who in such matters often acts the part of
"match-maker."The same person (generally a confidential person, who is
not in any way contiected with the family of the bridegroom1) ; is sent to the
bride's bouse to negotiate the marriage. If the parents of the female accede
to tbirjfroposal, information being given to the bridegroom, his parents thee

280

go to determine the R'.im which the parents of the bride shall pay to the
bridegroom. The itiuxllbi being determined, a day that will be most propiti
ous for the consummation) according to the rules of Astrology, is the next
thin", they have to fix upom 1 o determine this they go the Astrologer (ATrAe/ia)a cast^j of person* Known hy Torn-t.nn beaters) witt presents, which gonorrily consist of a bmua of planuiins, bec;le leaves, and a few cakes. After
careful perusal of the hofoscoptS of the purties (i.e. of the bride and the
bridegroom) ; and a long and deliberate renectiui . a day is at length fixud
by tbe A itroloRor. Tlic months nf (We:.k) May nnd (111) November, are
considered to bv very auspitious pYiiods of the year, and consequently almost
all the wtirriages amongst those who profesB buddhism, tire celebrated during
these two months.
On tire day appointed for the marriage, the bridegroom, accompanied by
his relatives and friend*, goes to tbe bride's resjdtr.ee where they are enter
tained with rice and curry, arrack m.d numerous, other things. As soon as
the bridegroom steps into tbe verandah of the bride, a brother of hers is to
Hh the feet of tire bridegroom, and then conduct h in to > platform* .
eretW for the occasion ; but always taking care that the bridegroom shall
walV on a clean whit* cloth, which is thrown on the floor by a washerman
who is hired for lite ceremony. The brother uf the bride, as well as the
washerman, are rewarded for their labour, by the bridegroom. The
washerman receives (a majse) nearly four pence; and the brides' brother a
ring, or any valuable present. At length the bridegroom ascends tbe plat
formwhere be is confronted with his never-seen bride: and it is now Lhit
tbe bridegroom is callrrl upon to deliver over to his bride, the presents which
he has brought with him. The presents are these: Thirty five leaves of
beetle with apiece of white cloth, intended for the tr other of the bride; thirty
five leaves of beetle, with a coloured piece of cloth, intended for the mother
of the bride; and the wedding garments (a white female's jacket and two
yards of white cloth) for the bride. As soon as the last mentioned clothes
are delivered over to the bride, she hands them over again to one of her
uncles, who throws the jacket any bow over ber shoulder and the cloth found
her waist. After going through these minute formalities, the two thumbs of
tbe bride and the bridegwom are tied together by a piece of thread. While
they have their thumbs thus joined togeter by a thread, tbe father of the
bride recites eight sentences, (which very few can understand, being from
i'/w) praying for tbe blessing of God on tho newmarried persons, and then
formally gives his daughter to the bridegroom with the following exhortation.
" I give you this woman (my daughter) as your wedded wife, to live together
* The platform is very ridiculously dressed with wildflowera. It is covered
with a matover thn rmit a clean piece of cloth is thrownand on Ibis, a
few seera of raw rice are scattered.

oil yon re generated by death. I require of you in the presence of this,

assembly, to lore her, comfort her, and keep her in sickness and in health,
<iiri forsaking all others to cleave onto her as one flesh. Mar the Gods of
rTraren prosper you hoth!" After a few words of a similar nature to hi*
daughter, the father pours some water on their hands, with the following de
claration. " In the presence of this assembly, I hare joined together this
man and woman, as husband and wife: and mar the blessing of the Gods com*
upon them !"
The last ceremony is the Bride's leaving the house of her parents. This,
is generally on the third day after the celebration of marriage. With great
noise, clamour and ridiculous pomp the new married coupleaccompanied by
their respectire friends and relatives are seen leaving the residence of the
bride for that of the bridegroom's. At this time generally the bride received
her dowery from her parents which she takes with her to her new residence.
The marriage ceremony already described, chiefly relates to those who lire
in the maritime provinces ; for no ceremonies or formalities appoar to be.
in use among the Kandians. " Mutual consent followed by consummation is.
deemed sufficient." The Christian portion of the mains observes almost all
the ceremonies above described, except " the celebration of the marriage"*
which is done by a clergyman, according to the formalities laid down ki
the " Rnberic." The Christians ute also in the habit of hanging seven pieces
of chains round the bride's neck; and changing a ring a few days prior to
the nuptial solemnity. This custom of changing rings is borrowed from the
Dutch.
In tho interior parts of CVylon, " where white man's foot never trod" the
people Jive in the rudest and most barbarous manner possible. As regards
marriage ceremonies they know nothing. Sis or seven brothers are seen
living with one wife. And those who are wealthy, generally hare half a
dozen concubines in their houses. This is a practice which I am sorry to say
hat not yet been given ap even within the four Gravels of Colombo. Heiice
proceeds that dreadful practice of poisoning each other,
mon an occurrence among the natives.

which is so com

The following is an answer to the Dutch Governor Falk's inquiry respect.

ing the marriage customs (in the year 176!)) by soma of the Buddhist Priests1
"Is bigamy permitted among the Singhalese?" It is, and it is not. \\ hen
a man possessed of an hereditary < state, consisting 'of fields, gardens, nioru-y,
and grain, has no children by his wife; if she be a woman of u amiable
disposition, and of a sensible and compassionate turn of mind, she will make
suitable . reflection upon the . circumstances of the case; and in order to prevent
the family from being extinct, she will solicit her husband to take another
wife. In such an event, it appears by the Books, that he may, with pro
priety, contract a second marriage: but on the other hand, even tlitytlijh M'

[' 262 ]
*>> ikoutd here produced no children, if the decline giving her consent to hit
marrying again, he cannot have recourse to that measure.*
serve that this procedure

The reader will ob

is quite in conformity with the line of conduct pur

sued by Sarai towards her husband Abraham when all hopes of an increase
of her family were out off, by her extreme old age (Gen. xvi. I. 2. 3.)
In the interior of the maritime
"wife's

daughter,"

"brother's

Provinces of Ceylon, a " german sister,

v.il'e," "wife's sister,"

"brother's

daughter,

"sister's daughter," "brother's son's wife" &c; are persons who are generally
married.

We read in History that Cimou the son Miltiades had his "german

sister," Elphinice to win."hab'ebat autcui in

walrimonio tororem suam ger-

vtanam, nomine Elphinlcen, non magis amore quani patrio more ductus.

Nam

Atheniensihus licet eodem patre natas ti.rorcs dvcere."

Among the natives marriage is considered as "a purchase, which the man
tqakes of the woman;" for in contracting marriages the husband is always
obliged lo give money or other valuable presents to either the wife or her
parents.

This is exainplified as

wjtxiv, 12 Sec.

also customary

with the

Jews, in Genesis

Amongst the Athenians this was a common occurrence.

The

continuation of the passage I have quoted above, is as follows: "Calias quidam, ijou turn generasus, qnara pecunipsus, qui magnas pecunias ex metallis
fercrat, egit cum Cimone tit Elplrinicen sibi uxorem daret; id si impetrasset
se pro illo pecuniam soiiturum."
pjvoraes are of common occurrence in the

Kandian Districts.

Although

the Kandians do not sell their wjves, as is the custom in China, yet they
put away their wives on the least mutual dislike.

Whenever a Kandian (even

any of the chiefs) dislikes his wife, the only thing he has to do nay, the
very step lie takes is, to order her to get her clothes and accompany him to
her parents' house.

Ifo

sooner is

his desire made to the wife, than it is

c*|mly obeyed ; for no aopner she goes home than another person is ready to
solicit her iq marriage, and almost the next day takes her away to his re
sidence.

On nailing these remarks, one cannot

but propose the question

"What becomes of the children of such persons as are divorced?"

The an

swer i" notwithstanding the divorce of their parent*, the children are, ac
cording to the established, (isage, entitled to iiilnijl !n't!t iueir landed and per
sonal property.

In the case, however, of thejr iv,;rvi.i's marriage agaiu, oue half

of that property is, upon such occasion, triiusierred

first marriaga.

to

the children of the

If there is no issue from the second marriage, the remainder

of their property reverts to the children of the first; otherwise it goes to the
children of the second."

* Now-a-days the objection of the wife never prevails.

The womeu in the

Kandian provinces seem to have no dislike whatever to their husband's being

associated with other women.

2S3

There is no respect whatever shown to women in Ceyloni They are loot

ed upon as an inferior race of beings, and not fit to be trusted, as will be
Men frem the following quotation from (Praltia Soloke) a Singhalese book b/
very learned person.
A wov tloombere mSyitn poospan, swatht uarvonche k&hn/o,
Af&thsie palhejald driswa, nare chitk-than thadritlatha.
" I've seen the Udumbara tree f in flower, while plumage on the crow,
And fishes' footsteps o'er the deep, have traced through ebb and Mow ;
If man it is who thus asserts, his word you may believe,
But all that woman says distrustshe speaks but to deceive."

SKETCHES OP MEN AND THINGS

BT THE EDITOR.

" A chiel's amanrf ye takin notes,

An Jaith he'll prent it.".

No. 4.

ftc Mechanics' Institute.

Foremost among the signs and types of Christianity and Civf*
lization the noble institutions of a tree country, for alleviating the
sufferings, lightening the sorrows and improving the moral, men*
tal and physical condition of its poorer classes stand the " Me*
chanics' Institutes." Founded on piinciplcs of benevolence these
truly philanthropic nurseries of England's liberty and England's
happiness have gone on prospering and multiplying upon the face
of the earth, until in our mother country there is scarcely a city,
town, or even village which cannot boast its I"stttnte where its
humbler citizens may find a constant fund of lasting instruction
and innocent recreation. We have placed tbem among the types
of Christian civilization. Have we not done right? What nave
the mighty conquerors of old to boast of equal to these subdners
of the ignorance and evil passions of men P Whose victories are
the moie lasting ? The bold Assyrian and the proud Egyptian
had their might; walls and their gorgeous palaces. The Macedo
nian had his conquests. The Greeks and the Romans had their
philosophy, their poetry and theit triumphs. The Spaniards had
their mines of gold and the Portuguese their fleets of discovery.
f A kind of Fig-tree, which never bears flowers.

284

Be it soChristian England foels no envy and though she ^m

her heroes and victories and poetry* and discoveries, she vaunts
them not, but points with humble pride to her Hospitals, her
Itefugcs for orphans and widows, her Free Schools, and her Me
chanics' Institutes.
Manchester may boast of having had the first of these Institu
tions in Bngland. It was established, we think, in 1819 or 1820
tut was not of so comprehensive a nature as those of the present
day. Lord Brougham was the means of the " London Mechanics' "
being started and it is certainly one of the most useful, because
most comprehensive and cheap, of any in the metropolis. Every
parish in London has now its own Institute formed on a scale
of greater or less magnitude. We will introduce our readers to
one of the unpretending suburban establishments.
It is a simple stone building approaching nearer to the saxon
style than any other, and stands some few yards back from one
of the great northern outlets of the metropolis Ascending the
stone steps yon enter a spacious, well-lighted hall, on the walls of
tvhich are lists of the approaching courses of lectures, of the clas
ses in progress and of the monthly meetings of the committee,
Jogethe? with the rules of the society. Half a dozen doors lead
to the different class-rooms where languages, music, drawing, paint
ing &c, are learnt by the members on certain evenings, and at
the further end ate folding-doors which conduct to the lectureroom or theatre. On each side of this door ascends a double flight
of wide stairs leading to the library, exhibition and reading rooms
or the Institution a spacious suite of apartments, open at all
hours of the day.
There are lectures three times a week, embracing every branch
of art and science. The classes for mutual instruction are held
font times in each week, and onee a fortnight there is a concert,
both instrumental and vocal, in the theatre, to which every mem
ber introduces two friends. No part of the system has worked
to such advantnge in attracting numbers of young men together to
nile in an innocent unbending, as that of the concerts. The
study of music is allowed by all to have a softening and tefining
influence upon the mind of man, and most decidedly is it proved
in this case. The attendants on the music classes are invariably
known by a superior air and gentler manner : but it is not only
themselves who are benefited ; they carry their love of the art tp
their domestic hearths and the peaceful spirit of melody and hap
piness is diffused over their humble households.
The annual subscription for each memW is but twelve shillings,
yet such is the effect of combination that almost every new work
of value is added to its library, and amongst the lecturers are
some of the first rate scientific men of the day, such as Pra>
lordlier and 'Rpps, and Messrs. Babhage, Buckingham, Faraday,
Davy, Ure, Edward Taylor &c. &c.

is

2S-5

We will snpposc ours.lves ason'iig ihe steps about half past

even in the evening. We are nci alone, there ave a good dozen
following in our rear, and ben we look aroumi inside, we lind
the great hall thronged wilh groups as iHotiry as numerous: but
how different to ihe assemblages in many other public places,
no confusion, no hurry, no noise: all are quiet and orderly, but
evidently anxious and interested in something which is to take
place. On reference to the notice near the door ne Lind that the
lecturer lor the evening is to he Dr. Lardner who is to discourse
upon Astronomy, a subject ubicb he is well qualified to handle.
Some ol the }ouiig bystanders are enjoying in anticipation the
pleasure they are to derive from it: olheis ate canvassing the Doc
tors abilities in comparison with Lewis and other Astronomers.
Two or three lads are discussing with one much tbeir senior the
merits of the previous evening's concert and are evidently rather
divided in their opinions. In another and more retired corner of
the spacious, stone hall stands a group of haid-woiking mechanics en
gaged in deep, earnest conversation, but in reserved language,
lliey are comparing the gratification they feel now that they hava
oecome members of the Institution to the empty, unsatisfactory
pleasures ol the tap-room and the low theatre. It would do n mi
santhrope's heart good to behold the glow of delight beaming on
their honest countenances as they dwell upon the lasting pleasure
and comfort of the library and the lecture room. Besides, since
they have become readers they have heller clothes upon iheii backs
and their families possess many more comforts than when they spent
their evenings and their earnings nt the beer-shop. Before they were
constantly iu difficulties, and the aid of the pawnbroker, was frequently
in requisition. Now they have lasted of the stream of knowledge and they
are both wiser and happier. They live temperately ; coffee and lea have
replaced strong drinks at their tables ever since they heard iVlr. I'arwly'j
lecture on the effects of spiritous liquors, and die consequence is
that they are stronger in body and mind. Their money goes much
further at the Tea dealers than it did at the Gin-shop, and they
fc'ave now something left at the end of the week for a new frock
for the little girl, or perhaps for a trip to Gravescnd ox Richmond
instead of sauntering to the "While Conduit."
But there is a bustle and a move towards the folding doors, just
opened, and we must e'en follow ihe throng. The Theatre or Lec
ture Room is of a horse-shoe form and capable of containing a
thousand persons with ease. At ihe square end of the room is a
raised platform railed in and containing tables, gigantic charts of ihe
heavenly bodies, and a lolly black board upon which the lecturer
may trace, by ihe aid of a chalk pencil at the end of a wand,
whatever figure he may require to show. The closely placed benches
are rapidly filled with a motley, bin respectable audience; and
amidst the deep, busy whisperings it is easy to see that ihe atten
tion of all is rivelled on the little oaken door beneath the black
board.
, .

In a few minutes the door is Attn" rnnidlv, but noiselessly open,

286

and the committee enter and lake their seats in arm chairs within
the enclosed circle, and just below the platform. The)" arc followed
by the lecturer, a gentlemanly, middle aged person, with small
pleasing features, bright eyes generally assisted with spectacles, iliivk
hair slightly curled and a profusion of rings, chains, Sec, This is
Dr. Lardner* one of the most elegant and agreeable lectin ers of the
metropolis. Astronomy is believed to be his most favorite theme,
and he certainly handles it exceedingly well. We have heard hiio
discourse upon a score ol other subjects, but in no case did lie
please us so highly as in the present.
The doctor has a most fascina:ing address, with an uninterrupted
flow of pleasing and powerful language. There is nothing like he
sitation or embarrusment about him, as is but too frequently the
case with many of the most talented scientific lecturers of. our day,
whose tautology and nervousness cause much pain to their bearers.
Luiducr is peculiarly happy in his descriptions of the mighty wonder*
ol the starry heavens, which are frequently brilliant in ihe extreme,
and forcibly remind one of Hulwer's poetically descriptive style.
When he concludes there is a long pause of anxiety ; every breath
is held, in the hope that there is still more to come, and when at
last he bends gracefully forwards to his audience so tlial there can
no longer be any doubt, the applause is general anu beany. The
crowd begins to disperse. Some lew who imagine that they are on
sufficiently friendly terms, press forward in the hope of exchanging
but one wold with him. Others content themselves with taking a
nearer look at him ; while the majority break oil' into little knots
to discuss together the merils of the lecture and the lecturer.
The Theatre is occasionally convened into a Concert Room where
the members of the music classes perform some of the most dif
ficult concerted pieces of all masters, in a manner not unworthy
'of the Exeter Hall or Westminster Abbey Festivals, The utility
of such minions cannot be doubted, and they must in due time
materially assist in elevating the musical tastes of the British people,
as yet far behind the other European nations. There can be no
question but that the Festivals held during the last three or four
years in various cities of Great Britain, have tended very sensibly
to excite a more general relish for musical performances amongst
the great mass of the people. In prool of this assertion look over
the advertizing columns of any of the metropolitan journals ol the
present day and you will tbeie see weekly announcements of con
certs to be boklen at the various Lileiury and Scicnlilic Institutions
and for which occasions many of the most popular vocalists, both
male and female, ate engaged. We know of instances in which
not less thun forty pounds were paid lor one night's services ol a
few leading choial and glee' singers, and that loo by a second-rate
Institution. It may not be amiss to remark that iu no wuy have
* Since we beard him the learned lecturer has, ire are sorry to say, lost
the respect of all good nien and placed himself without the pale of res
pectable society by die commission of a most heiuuos offence.

[ 7 ]
the good effects of these Institutions been evinced so mnch as in
the very improved conduct of the great masses of people who haws
assembled at various times during the last ten years on occasions
of st roiig political excitement. We no longer hear of London riots.
,Ko popular meetings, however large, now terminate as erf old; with
outrage and disorder. Six veers since when the Trades Unions
marched in procession to Westminster, to-lbe number of eighty thou
sand, hoi a single case of violence or robbery occurred: the im
mense body of mechanics walked akmg the streets of the metropolis
as orderly as ihou-jh proceeding to chiiicb, and when their petition
had been presented, dispersed quietly to their homes. There can be
nd doubt as to what cause we are to attribute this change ; neilhtf
can we deny that tlie great source of ohr country's domestic hap
piness and prosperity is in her Mechanics Institutes.

TO THE EDITOR OF THE CEYLON MAQAZIHE.

Sir,The accompanying papers are a plain, unpretending and very literal

translation of the " Organs of the Brain" a drama of Kotzebue"s which, ha*
often caused me a hearty laugh from the extravagance of the satire and
' ridicule heaped in it upon cruniolnpy.

The translation was undertaken sim

ply with a view of administering amusement to a family circle, and was

inuilu as literal as possible for the purpose of pointing out the very great
affinity both in structure and turn of expression between the German langu
age and its noblest daughter the English.

If, Mr. Editor, yon find then)

on perusal calculated for the pages of the Ceylon Magazine they are heartily
at your service.
Your obedient Servant,

0.

t 288 1
THE ORGANS OF THE BRAIN,
A COMED V IN THREE ACTS, TRANSLATED FROM THE GERM AN OF
AUGUST VON KOTZEB-UE.

CHARACTERS,
Mr. Von Riickenmark.
Edwoid]I his children.

Emily

Carolin Von Hellsicrn.

Ferdinand Von Bombeek,
Peter Goodsheep^( Edward's servant)
Katzrabel e_
.
Waller. \ SeruantsPolicemen.
The Scie is a ream in Mr. Von Kiickenmarks house.
ACT UtSCENE 1st.
[TSmily seated in

'the

foreground employed in needle work,

Katzrabe and Walter standing near the door ; Mr. Ruck*

enmark 'comes out of an adjoining room.]
Ttiick.Who wants to speak with me ?
V Xalz.Your honor has advertized in the papers that you Want
a valet-de-cliambre. I offer my services.
Mai. And I.
Jtiick. Well, well; yes, very good;but my valet has the charge
of iriy money also, and must therefore be an honest man ; one
who may be trusted.
Katz.That's exactly my character.
Wal.There are my testimonials.
Ruck, (Takes the testimonials and reads them) Yon lived fifteen
years with your master ?
Wal.Death alone could separate me from him.
Riick. That is certainly a lecommendation ; (to Katzrabe) where
are your testimonials P
Katz.I have none ; they have been stolen from me.

289

Ri'iVA. Ali ! Well, that is not of so tnnch importance to me..

Jl we were to form our judgments by these testimonials we
should conclude that there were no bad servants in the world.
The most honorable man, when he dismisses a set rant, makes
no sriuple of giving him a compassionate lie to help him on.
Whether another honorable m*n is deceived by such conduct, no
one thinks of enquiring, provided only the rascals get on I
- therefore place no credit whatever in such testimonials. Heaven
- be praised I am acquainted with a totally different method, which
is always infallible.Nobody cheats me. Whoever I take hits
my service must fit si let me examine his head. Do you agtee
to this?
..
If o/.With all my heart.
Kali. If yon mnst.
Rt'iVk. (Teelt Waller 'x head with great teriousness) ah! ah! (goet
to kit daughter.) Now Kniily read these testimonials, I beg you
for heaven's sakeWould not one believe that the fellow was a
miracle of honesty ? He is a rascal, n vile rascal. He has the
. organ of theft as large as a roll of tobacco. Look at his broad
depressed skull, how it bulges out on both sides (He turns back)
Go along my good fellow, I have no occasion for your services.
Wnl.I served my sainted master fifteen years honestly and faithfolly.
Wiick. Palm that upon some one else.Ton have robbed him,
shamefully robbed htm.
Wal.My good character is every thing to me, Your Honor. If
you wo'nt take me into your service you certainly have no right
on that account to slander ate.
Itt'ick.Well, my good fellow it it not my fault that you are gi
ven to thieving, and it certainly is not your fault. It is a mis
fortune which no one can help. (He fecit Katzrabe's head) Bra vo! Bravo! zounds there's a magnificent skull. Such a bump
of goodnature 1ms never come under my observation belore!
A real miracle of benevolence (To IVulter.) Now look yourself,
at this hillock ! '1'hat is totally warning in you.
Wal. I can easily believe that. The fellow got a sound cudgelling
yesterday in a public house for cheating at play He must have
a great many more lumps ttpou his, head still.
Kutv,. Slander, sheer slander.'
Kt'tcaV- Certainly, exactly so,you are a fool. Lumps are no
organs. (He feel* again) Quite flat here at the sides, not a
trace of cunning, still less of theft. You are honest lellow you
. may be a little stupid, but that's of no importance. I lake yon
juto my service.
K'jIz.Your honor shall be thoroughly satisfied with me , depend
upon it.

2?<> ]

Wal, Thai's to bo hoped ! But it is no affair of mineYour

honor must however recall the insulting expressions you hove
* made use of towards me this morning., or I shall lay a complaint
against you instantly.
Iv//<.k. My good man I mean we\l with you, and can give you.no
. butter advice than to huve yourself locked up as long us you live,
or you'll go on stealing until you come to the gallows.
Wal. This is too bad. My good: name is my whole, wealth*
j? J 'II certainly enquire of of the magistrates whether it is allowa:" able to steal that without any cause whatever. (Exit.)
Rwk.-^Make haste after him and take care that the fellow carries
nothing off with him.

SCENE 2d.

'
Mr. Von Rtjc^enmark and Emut,

t
RtVck.-I have made a splendid acquisition. An orgim of jjood* nature as large as my fist. Yon may entrust him with all the
: silvet things directly. Fll slake my word, upon his honesty.
Em. But. tax dcJtr Fatbel;, if/jnu baye done the (het poor fel
low: wrong r
Buck.-Wrong? Why" did 'you not see then what protuberances
he had on both side/ behind hu ear* ? 'I'he rascal has a head
as broad as a dewlap.
Em. (i ran ted that youjj system, is infallible, your celebrated master
nevertheless declared that it was exceedingly difficult i.o distinguish
the organs by feejing then). '1 his line sense ol touch, he said,
was the lot of few, and those lew <fere chiefly women.
RiicV. Nonsense, stuff. The man was gallant and wished to pay
you a compliment ; nothing more. I mulo-sumd the matter as
well as any body. But, yqn don't lliittk so because 1 cau't find
the organ of nutsjc on your lover's head., end because 1 have-discoveied that he is a tb-eosuphisU
Em.My Ferdinand is .certainly a little enthusiastic.
Rt7ck.That's just itexactly what I say.
Em. But his divinity is only Love.
Ritrk.Don't- deceive yourselfLove does not lie here in the crow-a
of the head ; it's behind iu the poll.
Em. I think. it lies iu the heart.
-. >
Rm'k.---In the poll. 1 tell you- -And your Mr. Von Bnmhcek is a
tbeosopliisi who sooner or later will found a new -Tensions sect.
Em. At present, however,, he appear** to think -about no such thing.

2W

Kt'tdt-.It will, com*Of music he has^ not even a vesfige. As f*r

as, that is concerned, he has a skull like un Ape's, which has also
no organ for music.
Em.That may he. He is no lover of music. Btit for. all ihqt he
may be a good husband. The harmony of congenial hearts * * %
Riick.But I tell you we are not talking about hearts, but heads.
You know I love music passionately, and once lor all, 1 am de
termined to have no son-in-law who wants a taste for this noble
gift of heaven. And no daughter-in-law either. It is misfortune
enough that my own children have such ape's skulls. I have se
lected therefore for your brother a young lady with a head like a,
triangle. Those are your ttue musical geniusses, and with the help
of God, 1 hope to find just such another for you.
Em. May 1 ask who is the beautiful lady with the three cornered
head that you have selected for my brother P
Ruck.Miss Sturzwald.
Em. Ha! ha! ha! The hump-backed Miss Stur/ivald, why she
does not know even a single note.
Ruck.That's no matter. Nightingales don't sing by note.
Em. But she has not a note in her voice.
'Ruck.What does that signify. With her organ she could become
a virtuoso in a week il she choose, and to pleuse me she will.
Your brother returns to day iiom his travels. I'll arrange the
whole affair then,
Em. I doubt whether the beautiful betrothed will please my bro
ther's taste.
Ruck. Don't be anxious on that score. When he sees that organ !"
Em.And that hump !
Ruck. But he shall not see the hump. He can look at her ;u
front, can't he oh that triangle !
E.I am afraid, my dear Father, the hump ***.
Ruck.Hold your tongue about the hump. All women have
' humps somewhere, if they hav'nt them on their backs. A hump
there is by lar the easiest to put up with, Your vanity, your
lalseliood, your coquetting -these are the worst excrescences, and
a poor husband finds it much heavier to bear them tbun you
do! Good heavens! if a woman has only a gentle disposition
and a tol< table organ o music, she might have, us lar us the rest is.
concerned, a hump like n tainels ; who would scruple at that?
When she plays and sings her husband, standing behind her
chair, lets tears of extacy fall upon her hump. In short, Edward
marries Miss Sturzwald, and you remain single until some one
with a triangular head proposes for you.

292

SCENE 3rd.
The preceeding and Mr. Von Bombeck.
Bomb.Pardon my early visit. Love and tnxiety bring me here.
'I come again, Mr. Von Ruckenmark, lo beg you lor tm>
hand of your daughter,
Ri'rY/, .Mr. Vox Bombeck I have already expressd my regret, and1
there's nothing more unpleasant than to be obliged to express
that regret twice in such matters.
Bom6,-*-Bul I possess Emily's heart.
R/icA\That you may keep in the name of heaven. A girls heart
is like a Bishopric in partibus infideliiira. As for her huud
however * * * *
Bomh.~ Why should not this dear hand strew the path of my life
with flowers ?
Rurf,-. Alas! The rose-season of lovers is even briefer than Flora's!
Alter the honeymoon the roses ore collected into a Pot-pourri,
salt tin own upon them, and sometimes smelt to, as a memorial
of the happy days when ihey blossomed.
Bomb,To drop metaphors, Mr. Von Riiekenraark, what have you
to say against me ' I am a wealthy man !
Rii:k. Do yon imagine I nra one of those fathers who think they
do 'enough when they procure lor their daughters the menus of
eating and that loo upon silver p No. I cure whether they do
eat and bow; Whether gall seasons the pheasants, or tears di op
into the Madeira * * * *
Bomb. But I may without hoasting say thut I am an honorable
man, and of a gentle disposition.
Riick. Oh yes, you have the organ of benevolence in a tolerable
degree, but not a vestige of that of music. I broke that to you
lately ; and without harmony there is no chance of a happy mar
riage. Had my dear wile, now in heaven, not sung, we should,
in spite of the heavenly hosts, have tormented each other to death
from sheer ennui.
Bomb. If your consent depends upon that only, I will begin to
lake lessons this very day.
Riick. What good will that do ? Your head is compressed likea bottle ! You will only torture yourself in vaiu.
Bomb. Abominable obstinacy !
Riick. Yes, God be thanked, I have the organ of firmnessit'st
here just behind that of thvosophy.
Bomb. My father unites his entreaties to mine, and ho hopes to
give them weight with you by offering, as he now does, to tear
up the bond lor the 2000 Louis-d'ois which you ov/e him.
M 2

293

Riick.Theie's no occasion for it. I will pay them,

Bomb.The bond is duo to-day
Hiiek.I know it.
Bomb.My Iqtbcr understands that tbe payment would put you ta
some dilliculty.
ft!iok,Ko such thingI have inherited ray sisters propeity in
Frauclbrt. My son has received the money aud will bring it with
him to-day.
Bomb. But if anything were to bappen to biro if he were not to
come to-day, and my lather were to act according to the strict
letter of the lsx\\ ?
Riick. I can easily believe that he will do so. My good friend
has a very large organ o/ number. a,n4 wherever that prevails, the
other organs are silenced. Um my son is sure to come. You
see Mr. Von Bombeck I am prepared for every thing. My organ
of deliberation it very well developed. \ would advise you there
fore to give the gill her heart back again. It is true that it is
not absolutely necessary foi her, lor very few of her sex are provided with one, and not one of them Wings it to the altar undaiua^td, They treat hearts n.ow a. days as they do certain indispcn ..Me article of diess, tbe sleeves of which they cut oil', and
then throw them away. No. body however perceives it but tbe
husband, and he is nut aware of it until it's too late, {exit)

SCENE 4th,
BoMBECK ANH pMWfr'
2?m.Dear Ferdinand don't address yourself ta. my Father. He is
too loud of abusing our poor sex, especially since he became
' enamoured of phrenology. All our heads he says arc too small,
too narrow; we have but little brain. If that's true, however, it
is certain that every thing does nqt depend upon quantity, for our
. little bit of brain, as you must confess, olten gains a victory over
your large brain-caskets. Away w-itb that frown from your brow.
Trust in me. If I am devoid of all the other organs, I cer
tainly hav that ol constancy at least.
Bomb:Ah! that's just the organ" that's most rare with your sex.
Em. What! are you falling into fathers heresies? Tell me now
is it true that you are inclined to religious enthusiasm ?
Bomb. I? ha! ha! ha! At all events to please you I could adore
an onion; but only to please you.
- 3
Em.What does he mean then with his organ of theosophy ?
Bomb.He means to make me miserable, nothing else.
Em.Do you indeed love, if you , do not hope * . iiv /

394

Bomb.What hope is left for me ? must I not live in fear every

moment lest some celebrated hornplayer Or fiddler shor.ld come
here, and your father should fling you, as it were, upon his neck ?
Em. But I won't suffer myself to be flung, and most certainly not
upon any one's neck. Dear' Ferdinand we have stilt one hope.
I kuow that my father will be in the greatest perplexity about
the 2000 Louis-d'ors if my brother were hot to arrive to-day. Or
Still better: Edward is an extravagant fellow j perhaps lie has squan
dered the money on his journey. In that case my lather colild
not possibly help himself, and it you wete to threaten him he
must yield.
'Bomb.And you will not find fault with trie, if in this event t were
to press him hard ?
m.Why ? it would only be a pietence.
Bcmi.-Well then ; I'll hold fast by this wisp of straw.
Em.Ah ! Love often makes whole islands out of wisps of straw,
. and often dwells upon them in great happiness.

SCE&E 5t8.
The preceeding & Peter Goodsheep.
Per1. (Wearing shoes hut carrying a large pair of couriers booh
hanging over his shoulder from a stick.) Here 1 am.
Em. Who are you, you comical figure ?
Vet. Currious question that! why even a house could see at a
glance by my boots that I am a courier.
Em.You a courier ?
Tel. My master said I should he here yesterday, hot he mutt
have made a mtstake, for I am just come to day.
Em.Where do you come from ?
t?et.From the last post station.it is fifteen terrible long miles. I
have been ten hours walking them.
Em. A courier on foot ?
"Pet. Yes indeed ! The beast they gave me to ride was rV termined to have it so. He might perhaps have forgotten something
in the stable, foi wc bad scarcely gone three hundred pares from the
gate when he threw me into the ditch and ran home as if his
head was on fire. I went on my way on foot but it was ter
ribly fatiguing in these heavy boots. At last a merry fellow
met the in the suburbs here who laughed violently and advised
me to pull the boots off and hang them over my backI tried
it, and my stars, bow it relieved me 1
Em.Btit who it your master ?

[ 298 ]
Pet- Why (lie young gentleman of this house to W sttfe.
Vim.My brother ?
Pet.That 1 don't know.
Bomb. Alas, no doubt of it
Era. When will he arrive?
Pet.*~-\ am to give his love nnd duty to Papa anil all the fanrilyj
add to say that he would come the day after to-morrow.
Em. ---Not before the day after to-morrow ? triumph !.
Boi6.--"Wben did he tell .you that ?
Pet.The day before yesterday.
Bomb.Then he will be heie today.
Pet. Mny-be;hut h told nfe the day *ftei to-morrofr.
Bomb. So then my last Lope is vanished !
Pet.'-A am sorry to hear it:-My master 'would have '-been 'litre
even yesterday, but Mr. Von Hellstern can't bear travelling by
night, and he is quite rightFor people ought to sleep at night,
or at the utmost drink, but not travel.
Em.Who is Mr. Von Htllstcro ?
Pet. Why nowhe ! he ! he ! I must not tell.
*&.---Why not?
Pef What I may tell, I'll tell at once He is a fine young gen
tleman, always merry, particularly when he talks with m"e-He
then sometimes laughs till he's ill because I please him so much.
Em. -Is he then a friend of my brothers I;>
Pet. -I don't know that, but he's a great friend of"hi?he. \Ve aTe,
so to spealt, very thick friends. My master 'wanted to 'send n*
away once because I had forgotten to carry a 'letter to the post
and because he found I had made hair-papers of it-j-But Mr.
Von Hellstern begged for me directly, and even said thai all his
sport would be at an end if I Vere to go away.Yes, lie saicl
that.
Bomb. Do yon hear, Emily, your brother is brihgrng'a yoYmg than,
with him, a scamp, a scoundrel, a good-for-nothing fellow, whom
he has probably destined lor his brother-in-law.
Elw. How you are boiling, how yon are spnitering! So the poor
fellow must without further ado, be set down lor a rascal, a goodfor-nothing creature'!
"Bomb. You interest yourself then in his behalf? Just what I ex
pected. There's your celebrated oigan of constancy. She has not
even seen the fellow yet but notwithstanding that, already finds
him extremely amiable.
.Em.Who said so, I beg ?

[ m y
BVmfr>-'Oh 1 know flip women-'-You hare only to give their fancy
room lo play. They must always have something to deck out,
either their own persons with the help ol a looking-glass, or a
stupid lorer with the help ol their imaginations.
Em, (irritated) Ferdinand.
BomA.-Oh forgive nie, I know neither what I say nor do. Hav*
patience with a matt whose or.lv and dearest hope is at Stake!

{exit.)
P{.Will you give me a room to put my cornier boots into f
E.-"-Wart a moment, my good fellow, I'll go and tell my Fa*
thei that yon arc come. (exit)

SCENE 6th.
Fkter Goodsheep alone.
Really, now T think about it, I have been a very stupid fellow
But why ? I have carried the hoots, and the hoots ought pro
perly speaking to have carried me. Suppose I were to inquire
then whether niy legs were made lor the boots, or the boots
for my tegs, every honest cobber nould answer me. You have
hit it, my dear Peter Goodshtcp. I'll certainly not load myself
with them any longer (lie puts the hoots down.) The Devil
may draw you on when he lides courier alter the lost souls,
or whenever he goes to see his grand-mother. (He throws tht
bui)/:, tcwurds the door. Jus! as he is flinging the second after
Ihejirsl Air. Van Ruckenmark enters, and is all but struck.

SCENE 7th,
Mr. Von Ruckbnmark & Peter.
"Riick. Stop, stop, my good fellow, look before you.
"Peter.I beg a thousand pardons, but when such a pair ofboots gets
into a passion the brutes really do not know what they are doing.
'Riick. But you ought to know, Sir, you are an unmannerly clown1,
and 1 have a great mind, but what do I see! good heavens ? what
a skull !
Vet. Your son, my master, desires me to present his duty.
Ri/cA-.-^-Stop a moment. Zounds! that is ft skull. I have never
seen any thing like it before. (He feels his head.) What sagacity !
what wit !
Yet. He! he! he! What's all this mean ? what do yon finger
my forehead in this way for ?
Wick.These globular elevations ay, ay, you are a witty knave.

297

Pet. What I a knave ! good heavens 1 I am the child of bans

parents.
Mick.This arch in the middle! the man is a genius.
Pet. Is that abuse too ?
#i'i\Conic, come, you need not act a part with me. We shall
soon know one another belter. How is my son ? where is he '
when will be come '
Pet. How he is, I don't know: where he is, I don't knsw either.
But lie will come the day alter to-morrow, or perhaps to-day
as that gentleman thought, who just this moment w cut away.
Rwk. {Seizes his hand suddenly) I thought so. The organ of
representation in the highest possible degree. Pretend to be as
simple as you like, you wont deceive rue. You're an admirable
actor here it is, here.
Pet. I an actor! well if it's there I am sure it lies. I played
the elephant once in the Magic Flute, for which I was to get
eight pence. But there was a tailor also, besides me, in the
elephant, a good lor nothing fellow he played the left leg and
I the right we began to quarrel, at last it came to blows, and
between us we tore the elephant to pieces. Both of us then got
a sound thrashing, I'm sure I don't know why,and I have
tuner seen a single lurtbing of my eight pence.
Ri'/'lc. I knew directly that you had once belonged to a theatri
cal company. Nobody could nilhstand such an impulse. Well,
my son will be here to-day; is he in good health, lively, brisk?
Pet. He was brisk enough the last time he thrashed me.
Rit't-k. I hope he does not attempt to lay his bands upon such
a man as t on are. W hy your skull is worth ten limes OS
much as his. I discover new splendid organs- every moment!
You are a good mechanician I am sure ?
Pet. A mechanician? Why that's a wizard!
Rirck. Joking apart; have you ever built anything, ever invent
ed any ingenious machine?
FW.-Ob yes!
Htiek. There we have it. These corners near the temples never
deceive. It is just as if I had a living beaver, or ai least a bad
ger before me.
Pt/. -What? are you going to make a badger of me now?
Ri/ck.Come lell me, what machines have you made ?
Tut. Humph! Rat-iraps. I understand ibern best.
Ritck. Have you never built anything ?
Vtt. Oli yes! when I was at home in our village.

t 298 f
Jliirk. Some ingenious windmill probably or perhaps yon con,
strncted threshing machines ?
Yet. No, a goose-stall. But my mother said I was a goose my
self, and that the stall was good for nothing.
Wick. Your mother knew nothing about it. I'll lay a wager
the stall was upon some new ingenious plan ; in short, my good
fellow, my son must give you over to me. Good heavens!?
You have a splendid orgau for music also! Do you uuderstund music P

Yet.Oh yes.
Jjiiick. Capital ! every thing corresponds exactly. What instru
ment do yon play ?
Yet. The Jew's harp.
Jti/r. No matter. Th organs are all there. As for the cultiva
tion which may be wanting, I'll take caru of that. You ate
not deficient either in cunning I see. The blimps lay o'er there
as thick as u couple uf Brunswick sausages.
Yet. What ? have I gal Brunswick sausages on my bead. I wish
I had known that before.
Jjiiick. In my whole collection I bnve not such a noble skull to
shew my good lello\y as soon as you die, I'll cut your head oft".
P</. What! you are going t,o cut my head off! O Gemine,
(a post-horn founds) God be praised, there comes my master.
I'll not stop in ibis house. I would rather march all the way
to the next hailing place in my courier's boots {He rum off
/carrying the boots away with htin.)

SCENE 8th.
$1h. Von Wick ex mark, alone.
Would not everybody think that that ninn was a stupid ass?
But. we, who spy into the most secret work-places oi Nature,
understand things better, I'll Let thai ihe fellow deceives the whole
family But he will not take me in even if he were to leigu
himsulf ten times more stupid than he seems. I am positive that
he is a genius of the first order.

SCENE 9th.
The precbeding and Edward.
Siick.Welcome my son, welcome after four years absenceHas
your skull altered at all ? Jjet me seeThe oigntj of maiheuia-

*99

. tics here in front is grown a little Inrger. But bow poe k

there behind ? ( He feels his poll) No, upon my word ! flat
as u poiket watch. Well ! yon certainly liuve uoi looked much,
upon the ladies during your navels.
Edw. I have no reproaches to make myself at least upon the
score ol swildness.
Hurt. Yes, yes, I can easily believe that, poor devil you might
bid defiance to the charms of a I'Immh- as well as the old Giec'an Philosopher, and become as gieat a saint as the chaste Aloys,
But don't let that make you conceited. There is a deficiency
behind in the poll.
Edtc. Have I the happiness to find my dear father in perfect
health ?
Riick Peifect, you'll find every thing in the house just as it
- was; only your sister is grown tall and pert, and is bent upon
marrying a man who is a theosophist and has no organ of mu
sic. I am sure yon will not cause me such soirow. I have
chosen the musical ;Mi*s Smrzwald for youi wile, a lady, as I
have already let you know, gifted with splendid organs.
Edw. To confess the truth, my dear Father
Riick.You have no wish to many ha! ha! ha! I can easily
believe that, tncre is a snd deficiency there behind. But I'm
spre you'll determine to please me. You may behave to he?
just as you like provided she ouly plays and sing a great deal.
You know that music is the joy ol my old age, and strengthens
my mind for the absliuse investigations 1 am making into the
organs ol the brain. My collection of skuhs A hope you have
brought something remarkable with you.
Edw.I had a whole box of skulls.
Ruck. Where are they ?
Edw. Our baggage was inspected about 60 miles from here, on the
frontieis, and unfortunately when the box was opened the pos. tilliou saw tbe skulls. Me declared directly that he would nut,
upon any consideration drive uie lurlher.
Riick. The ass !
Edw. He said his horses would shy.
Rf'irk. Blockhead! if all the horses who draw empty heads after
them were to shy !
Edw.Just what I said, we see it every day, but tbe fellow would
not listen to reason, and 1 was consequently obliged to leave
the box behind.
RiVik.The fellow must have had no organ of courage, -did you
examine his bead P
Edw. You know, my dear Father, that I understand nothing at all
ol this science.

300 ]

'Riklr.1 know, I know it, it must be liorn with on*. Well;

I'll have the box brought hero. You will be astonished at the
considerable increase in my collection. Thieves' skulls Irom Otahaite lor the organ of theft, cannibals from New Zealand for
that of number. Bohemian musicians for music. Gipsies for
topography in short 1 have spaied no expenee and have laid
out an enormous deal of money. When I die you'll not have
' a single farthing, but instead ol it some 2000 skulls which will
be worth a milium at least to the brethren of the science. A
propos I must pay old Horn beck to day the two thousand
Louis d'ors I borrowed ol him to pay for the 20 Grecian skulls
which a clever rogue stole Irom Lord Hamilton.
Ea'w One hundred Louis dots a piece. They must be remarkable
skulls indeed.
$.ih:k. So they certainly are, Lord Hamilton had them dug up
in the pass of Therniopyla, ibe skulls of 20 of the brave Spar
tans who died wilh Lconidas for their country. The organ of
courage in each of them is as large as an Ostrich's egg. I
trust you have brought my late sister's money with you, it H
just about the sum.
'Ei/w.The money is in my desk. But is it not a pity.
Kt'tVkA pity, what are you thinking about ? Such a baigain.
But I am glad I can settle with old Bombeck to-day, lor the
bond has caused me some anxiety. I'll tell you what is a pity,
, a gieat pity; that you did nut bring your aunt's skull wilh vou.
She was a very vain creature, and I am lather dciicent in spe
cimens of the organ of vanity.
Erf. My dear Father ! I have however brought a friend with me,
who perhaps is worth more than your whole collection.
Rt'iVk. Gently, gently, that must indeed be a real miracle of a
skull. Where is be ? Have you cut his head clean oil?
Erfw.At present he still cariies it upon his shoulders.
RuckWhat a living friend, still burdened with all the unneces
sary superfluities ' That won't be of much use to me.
'Edw. Wait till you see him, bis understanding, bis beauty.
Rttck. What matters his beauty to nie ? I have nothing to do
with physiognomy. I am no disciple ol Lavater's, ihe organs
lie over the brain, consequently behind the eyes, not belore them.
Edw. But what eyes they are, my dear Father, heaven beams Irom
them upon every one who looks at ihem !
Wick. Indeed Vou don't say so ? W hat sort of eyes are they
then? Do they projict like a call's? lor that's a sign ol a
powcrlul mrmon or are the outer corners depressed ? lor that's
the organ of number.
Edw.1 understand nothing of all that.
M 2

301

Vdick. So much the worse.

Edw. Remembrance of faithful, love is the memory which one saes.
in these eyes ! And :is lor ih<'ir organ of minibu-Ah ! they
count only the happy bouvs which they have given to others,
Riick. Nonsense and stufl !You utter as much extravagance 33 a
lover You must make such speeches to Miss Sluizwald your
betrothed,
Edic. My friend Mr. Hellstern stopped for a moment at the inn
to change his travelling-dress. 1 expect him every instant and
burn with anxity to present him to my father.
Riick. Oh \ can wait well enough. But hearken Edward. It is
not possible your friend can. have a more remarkable skull than
your servant.
Edw. That may weH be,for the fellow is the; greatest ass upon
earth.
Riick. Are yon raving ?
Edw.I only keep him in my service out of pity,
i
Ruck. You need not do that any longer for I'll take hira into
mine immediately and ;hank you. into the bargain A man endow
ed wuh such, wit, with sutb a power of repiesentation, to say
nothing at all of his organ for mechanics !
Edw. Are you really speaking seriously of my servant?
Riick. He wot your servant- It would he abominable if such a
skull were .to serve voiir every day skull any louger But so it
is in the world one stcs and hears only what people do and
suy -I'mt that's not the way I never trouble myself about what
men are, but about what they may become. The great ones of
the earth should fall at my feet and inlreat me to select their
ministers and generals. A (lairs would then be managed very dif
ferently in many a slate.
Edw. Yon are just the man for my friend Hellstern, he has also
studied the new system with gieal zeal.
JJt?'ck.~ -Has lie ? Then he is in all probability a sensible rational man.
Edw. He hopes under your tuition to perfect himself.
liiiuk. We shall see.
Edw. Here he is already.

SCENE 10th.
ThEPRECEEDIXG & CiROLrNE VoJfHLLSTERtf(lN SJan's CtOTHES)

Car.Mr. Von Riickenmark ! The son of the man who has pe

netrated with such success the depths ol the brain, must verynaturalJy have easily penetrated the depths ol my heart We have

302

formed a friendship which has this day procured me the pleasure

of making the acquaintance of his celebrated father.
fen'ck.Your humble servant! I am delighted
Have yon really
heard of my collection ?
Cor. Heard ? In the town I come from people speak of nothing
else,and I nave not been deterred by the length of the journey.
Riick.Your humble servant ! if you are an amateur of skulls I
am certain you'll not repent of it.
E</w. My friend possesses a very pretty collection of the skulls of
insane men.
Car. Oh yes ! I have done something in that way.
RttVk. Indeed ! the collection must have cost you a great deal of
trouble and money.
Car. I can't say that they did They came, as it were, of them
selves into my hands.
Riick. You may perhaps then have remarked that the skulls of
insane people arc generally thicken
EoVOh ! They may be as thick as they please, my friend does
just what he likes with them.
Cor. I have generally observed upon a closer examination that my
insane ones had but very little brains.
Ruck. Very littlejust so.
Etliv. I trust my dear Hellsterh you will allow that there are some ex
ceptions.
Car.But few.
Ruck. Very fewespecially when the insanity was caused by love.
Car. Quite correct,it is to these that I have entirely confined myself.
Riick.That's rational. Whoever has it not in his power to make a
large collection does well to confine himself to one particular branch,
which he may throw great light upon.
EtfV Certainly --You have no idea my father, what progress this young
man has made in it.
Rt'ick.Bravo, Bravo !
Cor. I may boast of possessing one remarkably well preserved specimen
of an insane skullyou know it, my dear friend.
Eiliv. Ob yes, I know it.
Car. A man who did a great many ridiculous things out eif love. He
even compelled his lair lady at last to marry him privately.
Riick. Poor creature ! probably she was also a little cracked.
Car.Very likely.
fldw It is said however that as long as they lived, they were happy in
L each other's affection.

I 303 ]
RiicV. We1! Tim bow long did they live ? Passion speedily crrtsriBjes
either itself or its object- -genei oily the farmer Love and mr.ukii.d-*
Sunshine and. flowersIf ihe evming brought do -shade with ii t\ cry
flower would quickly fadeaway.- . .
Cmr.Thai's very consolatory.
. - --- . \ ; ; .:: " - .. 7.
Eilic Under the OgiKe of the cool shades my Father means the tendcrest
friendship.
,'
: r '
<'
Buck.No such thing ; the attachment of friendship has its o* peeu- "
,liar organ.
, _
.
.
.....
(/u>.Which is'pecnliar to men, is it not?
(R/'/c^.-T^I-'huvtrvery seldom discovered it in women. That Varn de
ceitful sex.

Car. Stop, stop! Mr. ,Voh . Riickenroark. I know one /(male

bead upon which tiiis organ is so strongly developed that it has
led her to commit many lollies.
Riiclc. There are doubtless some exceptions.
,_
_
fidw.'The female organ is too often subject to change.
,
Riick. In old age, just so.
- ; ... . y
Y.dic. I had imagined nore paiticnlarly so in youth.
.
,;,f
Riicit. Men do not know how to find it. .
Car.That's exactly my opinion.
,Riick. Women have a more delicate touch.
. j
Car. Precisely so I was just going to make the same remark. J
Riick. Men with my talent of tonch are very rare. Will yoi
be so good as to allow me ? You have such an -abominable uewr'.
fashioned way of dressing your hair, your forehead is entirely hid
*The police should ieally forbid it. It's barefaced .cheating."'
Edw. It will not last long. The ladies 'who have heantitnl arched '
foreheads will soon show them if they remark that it will be the
menus of .attracting Buttery.
Cor.Don't yon think Mr. Von Riickenmark that the ladies must
have treated your son very ill ?. ...
Riick. Oh no. I give yon my word Mr. Von Hellstern that
my son has "oihing to fear from the ladies. Nature has denied
bim the organ of tenderness.
~ "X." i * ' '
'' '
F.dw.You'll find it difficult to convince my friend of that.
J

# . . ;. t,. ,. rt ff/'.'f.,... ''! ,.'..

'-.--"

'Riick'.Good heavens! why I must know. Stop I am auxious ;

lo become better acquainted .with this gentleman., .
j,.,
Vjdto.Be so'kindasto allow me. My head is at your service af
terwards.
" ';-"* ''' .'.
""" ' _ ' V " ,
Car.-I only wish my head may be as fortunate as my heart
has been.
'-. *-" -- -'1 --'- :J"'- ' '-"--- "*' - - "

304

' ttiick. {Removes the hair from her forehead) Bravo! a mag*
trificent organ foi music. An amateur I am certain ?
Cor.Passionately so.
Ruck. Quite rightyou compose ? I see it already.
Edw. My friend has arranged Cooking's duet of the two lover*.
, Car.Oh yeswe hnye often sung it together. Indeed * 1 pity you
then, for that fellow has not two iiotcs in his voieVlookhere js a
Very tok-rahle organ of benevolence.
Cor.*Thai's true alas ! for I often permit myself fa> he talked
over.
RtidrBut you would make a very bad actor. Not the slightest
|Tace ol the organ of representation.
Cnr.---You ore quite right. I never could act a part.
HiickNo cunning either.
\}ar.That I am altogether deficient in.
\
Riirk. But here's a very fair organ of traffic. I'll wager, you are fond
f business.
Cor.-Why I dont positively avoid it.
Hi irk.-- -You must have fought a dozen duels at least !
Ei/ir. And hiy Iriend has always been the conqueror.
Hi irk. You don't say so?
-. Car. My opponent has generally laid aside his weapons with a
good grace.
Riick Well to be sure.yon certainly have a very excellent
skull; and it gives me milch pleasure that you have not a morsel
of cunning in your composition. Well not fight one another, but
you must give rae as soon as possible a proof of your organ of
music. I'll tune the instrument myself directly. You must sing
me your duet of the two lovers, and, if you have not set the se
cond voice too high, I'll Accompany voil '-myself, for that fellow
there knows nothing at all about it. (exit)

SCENE lliH.
Knwiiio and Caroline.
Car.Tune on, dear old gentleman, but without this Creature t
tan't sing the duet of the two lovers.
Edw. My Caroline ! the first step is taken. tVhat are your hopes ?
Cor My hopes are that your father's consent will make amends
/or the foolish prank which you have over persuaded me to play.
Edw.If you will itevery heart must yield to you,

Cnr. Bm I have noth'-ng to do rtb hearts in this affair. fits.

htan U not even tn his utrad, it lies outside of it, and one Uu4
*;:aiti. it away liotn u.ei-ce.
tZdtr. I rely entirely upon your canning.
Car.Your father declares, however, that I have not even a morel of that.
V.dic. He says just -die same ofyotir power of eouutei feiting and
declare you axe the best acuess I kuow.

SCENE 12th.
The foregoing and Peter.
Per.The old gentleman bid me call my honored lady. The
jDstrument is tuned.
Car.Ass! have'nt I told you a hundred times that I am not
your honoied lady ? {exit)
' Edw.-~-8tupid beasi ! If ever yon call Mr. Von Hellsttrn your
honored lady again, I give you my word a very dishonorable doom'
shall fall upon your back I (exit.)
Yet.Good heavens! The ladiei tickles me on the head, the
son declares he will tickle me on the back. The one calls tne a
genius and the other a stupid beast. Which is right then ? can
one possibly be a genius and a stupid beast at the same lime?
I'm not to call my ho.nored lady, my honored, lady any moie because
she has transformed himself into a but. People of quality certainly,
hrve curious whims and may do just as they please- I'll bet that
if I were to transform myself into a girl, ihey would tend me 10
tbe house of correction iu a trice.

KD OF ACT FIRST

[ 306 J
$Lotes from &omt.

Jjterart <No/blt,ie3. Popular Tra

ditions of England. By John Kuiiy
Esq. The lute J, Smith's Comic Mis
cellanies, Letters mid Memoirs. By
his brother, Horace Smith.
fcipbinstone, a Novel The Three lYns, a
Novel. Bi/ Lady Stepney. Lnngheard,
fioril of London, iiy C. Ahirkay Esq.
Poeuis. Hy Buskin, Poet Laureate to
the Jimperor of Russia.
A Comedy in three acts, bearing
too striking title of " Mosry" from
the pen of &*V E. Btthrer, was to have/
been produced at the Haymarket Thea
tre in November, bill postponed through
the indisposition of' one of the prin
cipal actors. If report is to be cre
dited^ the novelty will prove highly
successful.
Criminal Statistics. In the calen
dar of prisouers for trial at the Maid
stone assizes were 1 1 persons charged
with stealing tiiiles, amounting alto
gether to the sum of four shillings and
threepence-halfpenny ! By reference to
the date of their respective commit
tnents, it appears that collectively they
bad been in gaol 370 days, and must,
therefore, hava partaken of 1,110 meals
at the expense of the county, while
many of their families were supported
by parochial assistance.
The following i from the State
Gazette of. Prussia: "Of the 476,886
inhabitants oi St. Petersbur^i there
re 300,000 more men than women.
There are in the capital 1,123 eccle
siastics, 1,232 general officers, 12,474
foreigners, and 238 ac;nrs and actresses.
The number of houses is 8,665 of
which 5, 105 arc built of wood. There
ve 41 chy mists, 4 foundling hospitals,
5 charitable institutions, 33 Government
and 37 private printing offices, 2,573
shops, and of these 181 are milliners
acid dress-makers, 38 confectioners, 92
taverns, and 191 bakers. There are
4,511 street lamps, of which 144 are
lighted hy gas ; 304 polics stations,
about 8,000 carriages, 1 1,000 hackneycoaches, and 36,000 horses."
The Mammoth Iron Steamer at
Bristol. A gentleman who has re cendy seen the immense iron steamer

building by the Great Western Steam'

Ship Company at Bristol, informs us
that she will register about 3,(K.O tens,
hut that her actual tonnage will ex
ceed 3,600 tons, or about 6tsG tons
more than any ship ever built. An
immense saving in stowage will be
gained in cousequence of the adoption
of iron lor ii- r hull, whilst her draught
of water will be comparatively small,
owing to the great buoyancy possessed
by iron vessels.
She will conse
quently be able- to carry coals suffici
ent both for her outward and home
ward passages a most important point
when the inferior quality of couls ob
tainable in America, and the conse
quent diminution in speed,' is consi
dered. Her engines, we hear, ai'e to
be of 1 ,000 hoi se power, ' and it Is
confidently expected that the average
voyage across the Atlantic will be re
duced to ten days. She will cany
a vast spread of canvas, so thai ' in
all probability the engines will fre
quently be at rest. In consequence
of the adoption of Smith's screw propeller, this stupendous ship, the great
est experiment in steam navigation
ever made, will, we believe, be able
to pass the present locks at < umberland Basiii and discharge her cargo
in Bristsl lrbour. We congratulate
our Bristol, neighbours upon the en
terprise which they are displaying.
Two magnificent steamers are now build
ing at Biistol, by -Messrs. Acrauian,
for the Royal Mail Company ; and,
altogether, the ancient port seems to
be " tioing a-head."
i
Comparison or Speed.A frencb
scientific journal states that the or
dinary rate is, per second,
()l a man walking ........
4 feet
OI a good horse in harness
12
Of a reindeer in a sledge, uu
the ice
26
Of an English racehorse,..
43
Ofabare...:
88
Of a good sailing ship
14
Ofthewind
88
Of sound
1,038
Of a24-pounder camion ball 1 ,300
Of the air which, so divid
ed, returns Uilo space. ... 1 ,300

r 307 ]
. At the Kit sitting of th* Academy such a depth is equal to 50 atm<-..
if Sciences, M. Arnjo stated that he pheres, mWtht not injure the bulb,
hail that morning heen making some six thermometers of the same kind
thermometries! experiments at the Ar were successively let down to a depth
tesian well at Crenelle, In order to of 481 metres, care having heen ta
ascertain the. temperature at the depth ken not to lower them until 36 hours
which had already Keen attained, vii., had elapsed after tile boring,. In order
183 metres, or l,5S4 feet. When the that the heat which this work might
workmen had reached 460 metres, the have communicated should have sub
chalk was of a arisen colour, indicat sided. The _ thermometers were left
ing tqe proximity of water. Since then in the well for 36 hours, 'the heat
the chalk had become mixed with at this derjth was 27 do rees of Reau
clay, and of a dark colour, , a still mur; or 92$ (if Fahrenheit, being astronger indication that the sheet of bout 23 metres for each degree of
water which it is intended to rejicri temperature. 91'. Arago expressed a
is near. M. Aragrt used the Ihermo- hope that no witter mjght be found
taeter of M. Walferdan, snd after hay
for 100 metres more, as in that case
ing taken all tkn necessary precautions there would be a permanent hot spring
in order that the pressure, which at at the very gates of Paris.

<T J) c Catutrtr.

. Qatar.We hear those complain

most that they can get no quiet, whose
want of it - arises from trie Irrnptlons
of their own passions, peace is no
local circumstance. It does not de
pend on the local situation of the
house, but of th* heart. True quiet
is -only to be found in the extripaiion
of evil tempers, in the victory over
unruly appetites 4 it is found, not inert
ly in (be absence of temptation, but
in the dominion of religion. It arises
from tlio cultivation of that principle
which alone can effectually smooth
down the swellings of pride, still trie
restlessness of envy and calm the
turbulence of impure desires. It de
pends on the submission of the will,
oh that peace of God which passeth
all uuderstanding, in the grace of
tTirist, on the consolations of the spi
rit. With these blessings, which are
promised to all who seek them, we
may find tranquility in chcapside ;
without them, We may live a life of
tumult on ttin Eddystorie. Hannah
More.

with the dyspeptic; but in the halls

and saloons of the great, the dusky
counting-houses and gas illumined sho.>
of the trader, and in the ghost- like,
and dwarfish ranks bf the pale and
spectral silk wearer. Indeed, of tho
many hundreds of those who have
come under my observation during the
last thirteen years, I never remember
to hare seen a single silk weaver who
was not more or less dyspeptic.

Another Important cause of languid

and inefficient circulation is, the man
ner in which We surround ourselves
with what are called comfort*. We
clothe ourselves iri flannel; and enve
lop* ourselves in ureat-cosis abroad ;
and when1 at home, we Close the doors,
let down the window cUrtains, draw i
chair to the fire, bury our feet in the
wool of the hearthrug; arid make our
servants Wear shippers that they may
not disturb tfs.
,
. Now, these sarrie comforts' have a
directly opnsite influence on the syJ
tern, an influence directly lulling and
somniferous. I surely shall noi be
Hesxth. Who evjr heard of a bi
called upon to prove this. Who haa
lious post boy, or dyspeptic plough - not himself experienced that almost
ui.m ' 1 It is riot amongst carpenters, irresistible disposition to sleep, which
and bricklayers, and sawyers, add agri
an easy chair, a warm room, a good
cultural labourers, that you will meet fire, aud sileuce, induce. And who

t m t
;..'
luff!" m* sleep iiiofe soundly in . a
darkened n mil 1IU a down Bed',, suiTOuudciT by curtain drapery, and well
covered with Idankuts, than on a strtiw
maltrass, wantily covered, uncurtained
in it garret.
'.'Those, therefore, who surround them
selves 'with these seductive lt coinforls"
place themselves precisely in the situ
ation of opium euicrs, they submit
their bodies to the same influence,
and suffer the same 'evils,- -allti' ugh
the cauAo he different. " I'otnforts"
are, opi.iles, a nodyncs, narcotics; as
certainly" so as opium itself, although
hot in so powerful a degree.
-The lover nl "ci.infort's,"therefhrp,nnist
neither -rVtn.br* nor ridicule ' the eater
of opium, he is himself guilty of the
same fault, and will certaitdy reap
the same harvest. Letters to Brother
flohn.

of fishes have Men ' ascertained, thei*

external and iineaual conformation af)-1
pear admirably adopted to "their ' ele-*
mi'iit aud mode of life. .Their sha)re", it cannot escape the most car'eU>sS Vbiirm; is finely fitted to leave their*
native -deeps with " the least possible
resistance.-. Yhv use of their fins anil
tail, too, is -obvions ; and the belly-,
fins cannot appear unnecessary, when'
it is recollected that their centre of
gravity lies near the back, And that'
without some kind of feet they would*
float with their backs downward.

But some of their parts display con-'.

tHvanre. which cannot be umlcrstoodwiltmut closer examinations The gill*
placed on each side of the neck, are
the orguus by which the.y breathe.
In this operation they fill their mouth
with walert which they throw back
ward with so much force as to lift open
the great flap, and force the water out
The Graves of a Household.
oehind-. And in the passage of this
They Krew '" beauty( side by side,
water, all, or at least the greatest
They ful'd one home Willi glee ;
pfcrt of the air contained in it, is left
Shell- graves are sever'd, far and widfcj
behind, aud carried into the body to
By mount, and stream, and sea.
perform its part in the animal' economy.
The same fond mother bent at night
The air-bladder, Which lies in the
O'er each fair sin-ping brow;
abdomen, along the. ootirse nf the back
She had euch folded Howpr in sight,
bone, is an admirable contrivance /or
Where arc thoe dreamers now ?
enabling them to increase or diminish
their specific gravity, and thus sink
One, midst the forests of the west
By a dork stream is laid,
or rise in the water. If they want
The Indian knows his place of rest,
to sink, they compress this bladder by
means of their abdominal muscles, so
Far in the cedar shade.
The sea, the Mite lone sea hath one,
that the bulk of their body is dimi
-He lie* where pearls lie deep :
nished. If they want to rise, they re
He was the. loved of all, yet none
lax the pressure of the muscles, the '
.O'er hie low bed may weep.
air-bladder again acquires its natural
size, the body is rendered more bulky,
One sleeps where southern vines aredrest
and they ascend towards the surface.
Above the noble slain :
Fish which are destitute of tho air-
H wrapt his colours round his breast,
bladders have little facility or raising On a blood-red field of Spain.
themselves in the water. The greater
And one o'er her the myrtle showers
number nf them consequently remain
Its leaves, by soft winds fann'd;
at the bottom, unless the form of their
She faded midst [talian flowers,
hody enables them to strike the water
The last of that bright bund.
downward with great force. This the
And parted thus they rest, who play'd
skate, the ihornhack, and other species
Beneath the same green tree ;
of rays, do with their large pectoral
Whose voices mingled a they prly'd
fins, which act upon the water in the
Around one parent knee.".
same manner as the wings of birds
They that with smiles lit up the hall,
do upon air. Arnot,
t
And Mieer'd with song the hearth,
CfcTiiOS Soesbbt.The views we u'
Alas ! for love, if thou wert all,
in descending from the plains were
And nought beyond, oh earth '.
Mrs. Ifemans. magnificent, particularly at one spot,
from which the eye is directed between
Tub Animal Ecowoijt or Fishes. two ranges of projecting mountain", to
Bo fitr m the structure and functions test on the.lower jhills of Saffragam, '

0 8

309

$it Creary ferest-flats c.f the V.mn-paltoo, the distant bills of k'^ir., (..m,
bi. 1 the white salt-encrusted lake* n i.i.-L
reff conspicuous at a distance uf fi-rty
rr dl s and - i i .1 tn separate the misty
cutline of the coast from the clearer
blue of tbe ocean.
The horizon ap
peared on a line with mountains which
e knew to be six thousand feel in
height J clouds rollid in the valley be?
death our feet; others floated hih
in air; some rested on the mountains,
tuid a long chain of vapour appeared
tu hang suspended 'across 'the low-lands,
which were darkened by its shadow :'
tfte whole completing a heantifnl scene
of earth, air, and ocean, displaced from
the relative position in which we are
accustomed, to view these elrmeuN.
While \ was still on the pass of Galle
gamma, and observing the bungalow at
a preat distance below; the clouds sud
denly lowered, and a storm burst over
the opposite range of Hagalla, which
was for some time observed by the
spray of a thunder shower that dashed
against the rocky surface of this black'
mountain. The storm swept by, aud
left us to adiiiire. the white skeleton
tracery of gigantic trees gleaming on
the huge dark mass of Hagalla: this'
appearance was produced by ;ril]s and
streamlet.-, rushing down and uniting in
channels graved by tho slow unceasing
hand of time, and now suddenly tilled
by lines of sparkling foam. The clefts
and water courses of HAgalla are as
signed by tradition to the time of
Kawaiia, and are sail to be'th" furrows
of ilauia's ai'rows; tue mountain itself,
in the same spirit "f fiction, is believed
to be the transformed boJy of one of
his giant adversaries, the ancient in
habitants of Lanka, the enemies of jibe
gods. fc'br4t?'i Ceylon.

ers at the I'll .v.- n d P- 1 > y. waft

Dr. 1)1 . an ohl friend H vhe Coao*
less dr -inrr. The lioct. r was a re
markable lrhid-beartc.1 and charitable
man, and tbe gravity of his manners'
formed sn amusing contrast to the gaiety
of Madame Malibran." - .

" Sbe one day took it into heJ head

to disguise herself as a pc-ssant giii,'
Her costume 'was perfect; the pointed
cap' wi.ifi long "harhfs, the gold cross,
the shoe buckles, i>th.mg was wanting/.
She cidoured her skin iso as to tgive
tho semblance of a swarthy sunburnt
complexion, and stafjyd out her -cheeks
with cotton, to impV.rt' an appvaiam-e
of plumpness to her fare. Thus dis
guised, she. one-day presetted, herself
to the doctor, and, atjdressir.e; him in
the ftatvU of ihe province, which she
could mimic in '.perfection, told him *
piteous tale of 'misfortune. >- Her mother,
was ill, and had broken her arm, &c
' 1 have heard^ sir, that you are a veryclever doctor, and I hope you will give
me somuthing u> cure my poor mother.'
I- assure you we are -in 'miserable po
verty !' Dr. D. prescribed .5flSiie remedies*
gave her a little* money ,-,md Madam*
Malibran took her leave, in the evvaih/, when the doctor related to the
company the visit he had received
Madame Malibran affected to listen'
with great interest to- his story, and
expressed regret thai she had not seen
the peasant girl. 'The1 hoax was sere..
ral times repeated, and at length til*
protended, peasant girl eave the old.
doctor to understand that she was deeply*.
smitten will) him. -The doclo^ una &*
other visiters at the chateau were highIt amused at this strange infatuation,
of the peas-tnt girl. Madame Malilirarp
constaully expressed regret that she
could not gel sight of the fair .^imornt'i
Eccentricities o Madame Mali- always accounting for her absence bv
bean." She would rise, at six in the a headache, or a visit to some poor
morning, and go out, sometimes taking fainilv in the village. One day, the
> fowling-piece to enjoy the, sport of pretended peasant, emboldened by tha
hooting. ' At other times she would go success of her hoax, took the docior'tf
OOt on hnnebaek', always selecting the arm, and walked round the gard-n in
most spirited horse she could find. After conversation with him. The poor doc
galloping oyer hill and dale, at the risk tor did not attempt to withdraw bis arm.
of1 breaking her neck, fording rivers, He quietly resigned himself to his fate;
and exposing herself to every danger, but, turning to -the persons who accom
panied him, he said, ' What a flattering
he would return and quell the appre
No sooner
hension* of her friends, who were often conquest I have made !'
painfully alarmed for her safety. During had he uttered these words, than a
the remainder of tbe day she would smart sotiffict convinced him of the pen.
amuse herself with all sorts of childish pricty of being gallunt, even to a pea
sant girl,
' And when did you ever
gactee and exercise. Among tbe visit

t % i
aake a better, you ungrateful man?'
esolaimed' Madame Malibran, m ber
natural -Mnu of voice, which she had
hitherto disguised by means of the stufftag she bad put into her mouth. ' Poor
Due tor 1>. stood bewildered with as-

tonishment. whilst all present joined va

a roar, of laughter, at the same tiro*
complimenting Madame Malibran ort
the perfection ofher disguise."Memoir*
of Meutamt Malibran.
.

Sxrrarta from $JrrioBtral8;

Face Pjustiko. AfteT he had sat

far 'half an hour, 1 'observed that ho.
became: very uneasy,, and frequently
yawned in my face ; at last up be
jumped, and .asked me if I wanted
to be always looking at him; at the
lame time lulling. roe that, .when hut'
face was' taken by i man in the
country, be was allowed to look out
of the window, or do just as he liked.
I, assured him I miilil not so ma
nage, aid at length, with great per
severance, compelled him. to sit quiet
ly each', time . he came. , When; the
jrork was completed, he took a mini
ature from his pocket, and triumphant
Jy asked me' whether >miue was like
'.thot.' . In truth, it was not,, and I
confessed as much, when he flatly.
told me mine i.was .not . like .him. . I
assured him to the contrary ; but he
said he knew he .was. right, for the
rhan who. painted him before, offered
Jo bet him a dozen of wine that ev-ery.
one at tlie ' Green Dragon' would know
it, Ttys ' nrwument' was conclusive, so
Ili was obliged to make my own pic
ture as much like the miniature as I
could, and, therefore, as proportionate
ly unlike tbe booby, original. -When
complete he was satisfied $ willingly
paid me my price, but offered to ' stand
h'alf-a-guiuea . more' if I . would put ' a
few more crinkles in the neckcloth.' I
willingly obliged, biro, and thus ended
tie adventure of my 6rst sitter.
' A iNAYAl PoBTBAiT.r One of my
moat a.. reei'ihle . visitors was a rough,
honest- hearted naval captain. ;AU that
I did -vastly pleased him, until, when
nearly finishing , tbe picture, I had
begun to throw an incidental shadow
cross the lower part of the figure.
The gallant gentleman saw in a glass
that stood opposite what 1 was about
jo' do, and rushing from his seat,

seized my band, crying out, 'Avast

there, young gentleman, what are yott
about?' Who the devil ever saw an
officer on' the quarter-deck with bis
breeches in that mess? No, no, that
WOR't. do.' 1 submitted to my fate,
and sent borne, the portrait with a!
pair of. unpronounceables of unexcep
tionable whiteness.-Polytechnic Journal.
1 A Smjo Little Home.- "To describe
the m ilia pluce it could not be called
of this agreeable couple . would bo
quite superfluous! they who know tho
world can as. perfectly appraise th
country house of an .agreeable small
family', of some four or five, thousand
a . year, as Mr. George Robins cats
value's real property, in doing. which.
Ife.. appears, to be so eminently suc
cessful. Chintz,, cotton, comfort, snug
rooms full of. furniture^ books, harps,
pianofortes, bagatelle-tables, backgam-.
nun-boards, chess-boards, guitars, kav
leidosropes, sofas, squabs, . cushions,
ottomans, corners, recesses, little oriel
wiudows, flowers, Eau de Cologne
bottles, scattered books (not books
taken from the library, hut books front
the circulating library) albums, draw-,
ings, H., B.'s sketches (no matter what
visitor suffers) little absprd work boxes,
which nobody uses, portfeuilles, pin
cushions, fire boxes, snuff boxes, boubonnieres,- miniatures of distant rela
tions, in cases, lying on the tables,
varieties of inkstands, peerages, direc
tories, low chairs, long chairs, foot
stools, folding screens,, a bright bla
zing fire, a snow-white poodle on the'
slinggy hearthrug, and a long-eared
'Charley', in the lady's lap. That
sounds suug, and is something like the
way in which they ' carried on the
war,' or rather enjoyed domestic peace,
at Mr. AmershamV"Jvnc Monthly.

t an. 3
Sir Walter Scott aitd a Baby.
'^ Well do I remember seoing the
greatest genius of our day, suddenly
stopped after dinner, in one of his
most
splendid descriptions of an
interesting^magnificently
interesting
scene, by the petulant cry of a little
urchin for some orange-chips in the
dessert. His father, who, of course,
was master of the house, sharply cor
rected the child for interrupting; aud,
consequently, made him cry loader
than he had cried before. ' Poor bairn,'
said the Immortal, smilingly, ' it is
not his fault.' 1 never see a dose of
-dear little damp-nosed darlings ad
ministered after rlinner, without thinking of this."Ibid.

irritated nasal organs. The attendant

whose duty it v as to watch the kilii
neglected it, the snuff was burnt irre
coverably, and supposed to he spoil
ed ; but was tried accidentally, pionounced excellent, and christened,
' Irish blackguard.'
' For the value of a blunder ia
contributing to domestic satisfaction,
one instance may suffice.
A respectable gentleman of Oxford
was so fascinated with " Kobinsou
Crusoe" that be read it through every
year, considering every part In be as
true us holy writ, -l-tifortunalely a
friend at last told him that it was
little in, .r.- fn.nl a fiction, the plain
story of the sailer's shipwreck havuig
been thus worked up by Daniel Defoe.
Reauiness op Counsel.Mr. Justice
'' Your intorma ion,' said the gentleWillis, alarmed at the appearance of
man, 'may Le very correct, but I
MtSntT-twd delended causes on the
wish you had withheld it; as in cor
pape'n to be tried in three days, was recting my blunder you have deprived"
urgent, oil Monday last, that no delay
me of one of the grea est pleasures
should take place in calling the list*
of my old age.'
and threatened to strike any cause
" We cannot refrain f.om transcrib
out of the paper if the parlies did not
ing the following exquisite blunders
respond to the first call. Upon the
of painters:
cane of " Peck i>: Francis" being called,
" Tintoret, in a picture which re
Mr. Windeytir started up, aud vocife
presents the " Israelites gathering
rated in a loud loue, " 1 am ready."
mauna in the desert,' has armed the
** On which side are you* sir?" in
Hebrews with guns ; and a modem
quired the judge " Really, your ho
Neapolitan artist has represented the
nour," was the learned couusel's re
' Holy Family, during their Journey
joinder, " I do not know which side
to Kgypt,' as passing he Nile in a
I am on, but I know I am ready."
This announcement occasioned some barge, as richly Ornamented as that
of Cleopatra.
mirth among the members of the bar,
" Hreugheli, a Dutch painter, in a
in which the learned judge "bore a
picture of the 'Eastern Magi,' has
conspicuous \>arl.Sydney Herald.
drawn the Indian king in a large white*
Jons Reeve Moralisikq. John surplice, with boots und spurs, and
Reeve Was accosted in the Kensing bearing in his hand, as a present to
ton road by an elderly female, with the Holy ( hild, the nTodef of a Dutch
a small bottle of gin in her hand seventy four.
*' Pray sir, I beg your pardon, is mis
" Lanfranc has thrown churchmen
the way to the work house?" John in their robes at the feet of our Sagave her a look of clerical dignity, viour, When an infant; and Paul Ve
and pointing to the bottle, gravely ronese introduced several UeurdictinetV
said, " No, ma' in; but that is." Bent, among the guests at the feast of Caua-.
'ley's Miscellany.
" A painter of the ' Crucifixion re
" Bluxderehs :"" How much is sci
presented a confessor holding out V;
ence indebted to blunders! To what a crucifix to \he good thief who waa
else do we owe the telescope, and crucified with our Savioar.
some of the most effective improve
" it is no slight token In favour
ments in that mightiest of inventions, of blunders that they not unfrequentthe steam-engine? How much have ly throw bright, though it may be tran
blunders contributed to the luxuries sient, gleams of hilarity on the dull
and the eouiforts of private life ! To routine of daily life. What zest do*
the former, let the widely-spread vo
they give to conversation ! What lift '
taries of Lon.lv Foot's manufature and animation do they impart to cir
testify, who are. indebted to the care cumstances utterly uninteresting in
less blunder of a boy, for one of the their plain propriety of detail! "-oiQJt gratifying compounds that ever New Monthly,

t 3ii )
THE TRADE DF CEYLON.

Vor the Quarter ending Stli January 1841.

{Compiled froth the Government Gazette.)

IMPORTS.

[From Great; British I Foreign

I liiiht ::i, ; Possession. 'Possession.
feeer
Hutliou
t niton

<iu.>J*

Machinery nn.l Tools

Metals and Metal ware
Rico
SUgar
Wines
Sundries

432 14; 0|
i
6,8001 0' o'4!>,!7
7, !.-.. 18 KUvi.bt
|jJ2
.... 1,040 17, 0 l,71i
i..
i 1 1,21:
i
34 0
52>
IrtlO
_ 1,136
610,81;:
k 1 ,339 7; 'i

1l

Total.

',

" 448 5 6
55^472 12! 0
31,^76. li 3
616 0! 2
2,756 33
16,258 8 0
661 10: 7
1,461 81 0
16,315 0 1

S' o'l,370JH

fi| 31

0 5.018J 8
8rl2
257 3
7 1,170

2l,6yi i6

U 7,826 I 1 1 185,764 13 9

Amount or Duty cullectcd on above, 6,990. lG.v. l\d.

EXPORTS.

To Great
British | Foreign
Krii;iin. Pua*.sion. Possession.
Arrack
Arreca Nuts
iii'.mm.i.i

toffee
I'otton Good's
CoCoanul Oil
Marine Stores
Precious Stones
Bur. hies

30 67i
!.
0 2,IM
!
8,364
6
0
J 23,3.%
9 2,171
I 0| :> 301
j 4,6ti 2| 9
64
>...
I Ul 0 93 'J
I
50,i OJ 0
0
I 2.2! 1: 17 8 1,674

ll

ti

0
f) 1
IH' 0]
l!ll[
19 0
t

o) 0
18 6

3;>,IU2 2' 8 7,i<>2 <i 2

Total.

I IF 0|
681 12 2
1661 ' 3 2,346 15 9
0| 8,354 15 6
0
(I
o' 2a,ao; 2 10
329
6
6'., 1 10 6
i)
4.fiC(: 4 8
Vi3ii !M 0
0
ti
500 i> 0
60
6 4,0,3j iri 8
558

3 47.663! 9 I

Amomit of Duly col'cctei! on above, M,?94 Is. Cirf. of wliic h

13,926 8s. 0f.

arose horn Cinnamon.

313

METEOROLOGICAL JOURNAL KEPT ON THE HUNASGIRIA

RANGE OF MOUNTAINS, AT AN ELEVATION OF
NEARLY 3,000 FEET.
Range of
Ther : at

Rain Fall Prevail

ing
of
Indies (lew Winds.

.. 1.

PREVAILING WEATHER.

Date ia.m3p.ui 6p.m

Jan.
r. 15 60 69" 6jo
60 68 "66
f. 16
8.17 60 69 65

1,050 light

N.E.

Light shower a.m. Cloudy r. if. and night.

-,050 none

N.E.

Cloudy a.m. light Showers P.M. fins night.

N.E. . Floe cloudy day aud night. Strong breeie.

Do.

Variable Light showers a.m. Heavy rain P.M.

69

64

1 ,600 Do.

*. 19 58

70

65

w.80 59

73

70

I.21J64
>:W 58

72

68

69

01

-,050 light

-,100 Do. Variable Light showers duriug day, fine night

-,150 none N.E. Cloudy and Showery day and night.

M.18 3d

Do.

N.E.

Strong trees* and cloudy , fine night.

Da.

S.E.

Fine cloudy day. with fresh breeze.

Do.

Do.
N.E.

fine cloudy day, light wind.

Cloudy day and night, light showers. -

b. 28 63

68

65

S.24 62

72

67

M.25 64

67

66

2,100 light

T. 26 63

68

65

-,750 Hvv Variable ."bowery day aud night, strong breeze.

w.27 62

65

64

-,500 none N.E.by N Light >howeis, day uud night.

t. 28 62
T.29 64

70

67

68

66

a. 30 61

70

67

S.31 62 : 70

66

-,050 Hvy N.E.byN Fine & cloudy a.m. Light showers p.at.

N.E.

Fine a.m. heavy rain i'.M. aud night,

light

N.E.

Fine and cloudy, day and night,.

none

N.vl

Fine and cloudy day and night.

light

N.E.

Fine dear, day and night

Feb.

|
-a. 1

62

71

68

T. 2 62

72

67

w. 3 59 , 69

65

1. 4 60

69

65

t. 61 : 67

64

a. 6 56

70

66

8. 7 60

71

67

72

67

M. t> 63-

T. t 62

72

70

W. 11 62

74

70

I.li 63
p. lii 63
s. ia 03
*>. 14 (ia
*. 15 62

73
74
70
71
70

70
70
68
68
67

Max: 74
Jiiu: 68
Var: 16

N.E.

Do.

N.E.

7,900

Fine clear day, and night light breeze.

Do. weather. Strong breeze.

light N.E.byN Fine cloudy day, aud night strong wind, -

Do. j

N.E.

Fine clear day, and night strong breeze.

none

N.E.

Fine cloudy day, and night Do. wind. '

Do.

w.s.w

Do.

Do.

Do.

Fine clehr day and night, strong breeze.

Do. weather, moderate breeze.

Snulh. Fine clear day and night.

light S.S.W. | Do. weather, light breeze.

Do.

Variable Fine clear day & night, strong breeze,?.*.

Hvy
Do.
v.hj
Do.
Hvv
Do.
D." Worth.
1,500 Do. Variablo
Total

1,

Hvj

| Do. weather uud wiud.

Fine sul'ry day, clear night
Fine cloudy day, strong hreeze.
Fine cloudy day, moderate wind.
Cloudy and squally Willi heavy rain.
W .A.

[
Xi-'ir:

RBOISTER

314

OF WEATHER AT HANTENNE.

DECEMBER & JANUARY

Range o/
l beruiometer

' Stale of the Weather.

Reumrka.

Dec 6a.m 12 o'erv

Weeding hus been
the principal occupation
of the l'lanler during
this Uiouth, except on
estates in hearing, where
of course the crop it
the sole object, \\o
have had frenuent ehowtr., still the hut s'.in
during the. day kills the
weeds winch ore rooted
up, A few trees only
(.-oiiiini meed
pu tting
forth blossom, w hub is
as well, seeing that the
30
present strong
winds
60 ?2 I 64
from the N, E. are l,ar
31
59 78 . 62
from being favorable to
Jan,
their setting.
Pp..
Do,
1 58 ' 80 (>*
Do.
Do,
The prudent planter
2
60 76 64 (
will make the most of
58 70 63
3
Pp.
Pa,
this weather as it \a
Po.
Po,
4
58 76 64 .
. Light rain throu. hoot,
essential to gel al(, his
60 70 60 r
6
A,M,
showery
rja.
hea\y
rain.
felled tiinbet burnt <JI
66 70 63
6
Fine throughout.
the land before the end
58 78 64
68 I 70 68/ .V, bVJf rn. p.m. hue until 4orlk m -of March at which tinw
a.m. Fine p.m, ousting showers; _jja,rlial ^showers com
60 | 74 68
9
Fiue throughout. . ' "*;
mence and enable him
10
58 76 70
Do.
Do. ,
Ho get forward with his
II
59 , 7o (il
a.m. cloudy p.m showery.
young plum*. It is 'of
12
"0 | 70 00
am. Fine p.m. cloudy.
greut importance ' "to
1 i 72 (it)
13
A.M. Fiue p.m. showery.
make a beginning early
14
d6 ' 74 62
it, the e:i-on.
Fine throughout.
60 ; 74 66
16
The I faith both of
this and me udjoining
estates contiuncs as usu
al, perfectly good.

16
60 74 64
'At BO , 66.
17
62 78 68
la
59 79 66
19
20 j 62 70 68
i
62
Si
70 ! 64
tit U ' 60
22
60 <8 ; 64
23
24
62 72 ' 70 *M
25
64 72 j 68 I
26
68 l<i 68
27
68 70 66 I
62 74 | 68. :
28
2y: (i6 70 6s!

r. .

Fine throughout.
Do,
Do.
Do.
Do.
a.m. Fine p. m. cloudy.
Do.
Do.
Do.
Do.
Fiue throughout.
Do.
Do.
fine p.m cMv. until 5 o'ck.rain:
a.m Fine p.m. cloudy.
A.M. Fiue p.m -light ruin.
A.M. showery p.m. cloudy;
a.m. thmdy p.m. showery.
Fine
Do.
Fiue throughout.
Do.
Do.

315

DIARY KEPT IK THE VALE OF DOOM BERANEAR KANDY.

.1841 From January 18M to2oih. Fihe and fair generally with strong breeze*}
from the N. H. in tbe beginning of this week but beeotniug clou J v and Jhewery
towards the latter part.
From Jnr.uary %^ih io 31tCloudy days with light showers in trie even*
inga dnriiig the first three Jays but becoming fair lhoiigb cloudy, accompanied
Willi strung winds froin N. E. Mornings and Evenings fool.
Thermometer Average.71 c 6. a. m. 67 = 3. p. *. 78 s 8. . is.
Operations.Ou the Coffee Estates :hese have been confined chieSv to clear
ing the plantations of weedspruning the old trees that have borne the piut
Jenr's crop and topping and handling the younger lives before the ehsuiiig
blossom conies, out, the germ of which is now b< ginning to make its appear
ance on the trees very generally,
' ~ 2*
From February til to 8/*. Bright clear skies every day this week with
strong breezes from the N. E. during the day and a hot sub, though the
roomings and evenings are cool and pleasant
Thermometer Average. 72* 6. a. ji. 78 - 2. r. w. 76 8. i>. v
From Ftbriiary OfA to the ISM. A continuation of the same brijht nnclouded weather as last week with A fair Sun which Would make the best un
bearable irere it not tempered by the N. E. monsoon which rise* nearly every
diiy tvlth the Sun and coutinues ontil the evening, but during the Night too
atmosphere is 'calm, allow inn a mixlerate quantity of dew to filll and,
replenish exhausted vegetation which begins shout' ihis period to feel the effects
of the dry season from the appearance of many of the trees and plants which
look leafless and shrivelled The Coffee tree in this instance, appears an ex
ception, or it does not as yet feel any bad' effects from the dry weather
judging from the bright green colour of its leaves atid general atroti:: healthy
appearance, with an abundant show on its branches, of what trill be! a vwxjr
full blossoming.
'Thermometer arenipe. As lust week,
- -Optrationt.-^This dry season with its strong dry wind is tbe time for clearing
and Burtritlg the wood off lands Intended to he planted mid these would
appear to he very considerable in their number, about the country; judging from
the liUmerons laige fires Seen arising every evening at greater or les distance*.
This is also a good tihic lor diviit; Coffee fully previously to pulling iiiuto
the " Peeling Mill Winnowing &c &c,ai>J n'hernise preparing it for market.
Health. The health of all the Coolies aud Natives siluiited-ilil this side of
the country appears very good, ami the Europeans likewise enjoy the same
statu of health, there bting lo pariicuiar diseases prevalent.
11. D.
ERRATA.

No. vr.
Page 243, line 2 For "Ahjic" read "Aha.".
-*' ' 'tr'
>'< n II For "treed," read "nw4."

..

,--
.

No. vii.
, '

?ge f>2 Second Exlract Line 2 For "mmmenr'd," read " conmHn'd."
561, line 13 For "Jrrnyrd in ylwy on hit rap attend" read ' Arrayed in glory on his rup to attend"
26-1, note, line 1 for "moulcbm," read "montihns."
264, paragraph 4, line 4 r'or "nrctnrd," read "neetnr'd."
265, lline 4 from bottom of the page For "an aiond" read
"ajcetarm'd"
2fi6, line 3 For "at aviiu," read "a camp:"

COLO&'BO :
PRINTED AT THE HKRAI.D PM6.

CEYLON MAGAZINE
No. Vlrt.

April,

1841.

Vol. I.

-
THE READER.

*''." -

No. Vltl.
tii lion's paradise regained.

{ CokcMed.)

Omnia, quae, Phoobo quondAin meditante, beaten

Andiit Eurotas, jussitque ediscere lauroU,
Ulo canit: pnlsae referunt ad cidera Valles.
Virgilu Bucotica, Eel. n. 82.
WbateTor gongs beside, the Delphian God
Had taught the laurels, and the Spartan flood,
Silenni sung ; the tales hit voice rebound,
And carry to the skies the sacred sound.
Dtyden.

Wf. now coirie to the last Book of Paradise Regained, and to

the conclusion of these speculations upon this fine Poem. I am
perfectly aware that the succession of these essays, although the
continuity of the silhject itsell seemed to require it, is tedious to
the general reader. This1 is the last.
tt has been rem ai Iced by critics generally of Paradise Regained,
that the Poetry rises in grandeur and beauty, and does not arrive
at its utmost elevation until the last book ; whereas it has been
complained that Paradise Lost fulls off in the concluding books.
The different principle and structure ol the two poems have not
been sufficiently attended to. Mr. Mitford, one of our Poet's most
judicious admirers, is of opinion " that these poems are so dtsstj

l air ]
milar in their structure 'and purpose that no comparison
usefully or justly instituted between them."*

tin be

There is, however, ihe same analogy in the structure of the two
Poems, and the comparative plairrtHiss and elevation of the poetry,
as, I have attempted to shew, subsists between the Old and the
New Testament in higher respects. The Fall of man being wrought
by the Evil Spirit, the diction, as well as the action of the first
books of Paradise Lost, in which the power of that Spirit predo
minates, is, with a beautiful propriety, most inspiring and splen
did. The very ruin o( Satan " with all his host of rebel Angels,"
was the proximate cause " of Man's first disobedience." It is
therefote made most prominent in the poem. We almost st* " Sa
tan fall like lightning Irom heaven."
The action is at its height in the ninth book, where the act of
disobedience is committed, and the fall of man accomplished. The
tenth book is of a mixed character, which gradually and beauti
fully prepares the mind for the more quiet and contemplative cha
racter of the two last books, in which is the germ of Paiadise
Regained. That Poem property takes up :he subject, both in the
spirit and stvle of ihe concluding books of Paradise Lost ; and
the style of this second and perfect pocrri, gradually rises with
each book into loftier regions, until, in the fourth and last book/
the poet's diction and imagery ascend 'with
* A fiery globe
Of ungels on full sail of wing.''
P. R, B. fv. 681.
Of my quotations from this splendid book, which blazes front
beginning to end, I must be sparirg ; entreating the reader to con
sult the poem itself. The book begins in the Homeric style with
a seiies of similes. But unlike Homer, whose most familiar simile
is generally the last, Milton's rise in beauty and grandeur one
above the other. Rome is then presented by the Tempter td the
eyes of the Saviour.
" On each side an imperial city stood)
With towers and temples proudly elevate
On seven small bills, with palaces adorn'd,
Porches, and theatres, baths, and aqueducts,
fStatues, and trophies, ami triumphal arcs,
i
Gardens, and groves."
P; R. B. iv. 33~38.
I cannot follow the Poet's gorgeous description of " great and
Mitford's Life of Milton pj lzzxiii. Aldine Edition. In a previous essay
I omitted the mention of this accomplished writer,who has done such am
ple justice to _our greatest I.yrie Poet, tiray,as one of the best modern
biographers, along with Sir Kgerton- Brydges, of onr great Epic Poet. 1 la
ment that my limits do not allow me to. subjoin in this Dot* bit just and
fiuoly written criticism of Paradise Regained.

3.W

glorious. Rome, queen of ihe earth." Two lines, however, I must

select, as connected with the inland in which these essays are
written, under the ancient name of Taprobane ; and because the
last line has been noticed, with great truth of taste and feeling,
to be one of the most picturesque lines to be met with in poetry,
every word conveying a distinct idea, and generally one of great
effect.* Among the " embassies from regions lar remote in va
rious habits" to Rome, were those " from India and the golden
C'hcrouese,
And utmost Indian Isle Taprobane,
Dusk faces with white silken titrbans wreath'd,"
B, IV. 75.
Athens is next described :
" On the /Egean shore a city stands,
Built nobly, pure the air, and light the soil,
Athens, the eue of Greece,"
B. IV. 238240.
I must request the reader to consult the poem for this, exqui
site picture.
There is a noble passage, in which otu? Lord opposes to the phi
losophy and poetry of ancient Greece the divine truth and subJime and lovely poesy of the Hebrew Scriptures.
"If I would delight my private hours
With music or with poem, where, so soon
As in our native language, can. I find
That solace ? All our law and story strow'd
With hymns, our psalms with artful terms inscrib'd,
Our Hebrew songs and harps, in Babylon
That pleased so well our victor's ear, declare
That rather Greece from us these arts deriv'd."
B. IV. 331338.
One splendid burst of poetic inspiration I must give entire. This
is the storm in the desert, which is raised by Satan as his last
act of violence to our meek and blessed Saviour, before he sets him
on the pinnacle of the temple, (which has been cited in a previous
essay) with which, the poem concludes.
" Darkness now. rose,
As daylight sunk, and brought in low'ring night,
Her shadowy offspring, unsubstantial both,
Privation mere of light and absent day.
Our Saviour meek, and with untroubled mind
.J. Sea a note, in Todd's edition, on the place.

t -aw ]
. '

After his asrv iaant, though horried n\re,

II ungry and cold betook him to his rest,
Wherever, under some concourse of shades,
Whose branching arms thick intertwin'd might tMetd
From dews and damps of night bis shelter'd bead;
But, sbelter'd, slept in vain ; for at his bead
The Tempter watch'd, and soon with ugly dreams
Disturb' d bis sleep. And either tropic now
'Gan thunder, and both ends of heav'n; the clouds,
From many a horrid rift, abortive pour'd
Fierce rain with Ught'ning miz'd, water with firs
In ruin reconcil'd : nor slept the winds
'Within their stony caves, but rush'd abroad
From the four hinges of the world, and fell
On the vei'd wilderness, whose tallest pines,
Though rooted deep as high, and sturdiest oaks,
Bow'd their stiff necks, loaden with stormy blasts,
Or torn up sheer. Ill wast thou shrouded then,
O patient Son of God, yet only stood'it
Unshaken ! Nor yet staid the terror there;
Infernal ghosts and hellish fit ries round
Environ'd thee ; some howl'd, some yelld, some ahriek'd,
Some bent at thee theirfiery darts, while thou
Safst unappall'd in calm and sinless peace !
Thus pass'd the night so font, till Morning 'fair
Came forthwith pilgrim steps in amice gray;
Who with her radiantfinger stUtdih'e'roar
Of thunder, chas'd the clouds, and laid the winds,
And grisly spectres, which the Fiend hat rals'd
To tempt the Son 'of Gdtf -with terrors dire.
And nolo the sun with more effectual beams
Had cheer"d the face ofearth, and drit'd the vet
from drooping plant, or dropping tree ; the birds,
Who all things now behold morefresh and green,
After a night of storm so ruinous,
Clear'd up their choicest notes in bush and spray,
To gratulate the tweet return of morn."
B. IV. 397438.

In all extant poetry, except the Sacred Oracles, there is notbing.

In my opinion, so sublime as this description of the storm raised
by the " hellish furies" of Satan, and vainly raised, against tba
" patient Son ol God," who " only stood unshaken'' amid this *
mental convulsion ; He only
" Sat dj.appaii.'d im caim *> siiasss fkac's !"

820

While nothing - was ever conceived, or described, perhaps, with,

s>icb exquisite and touching beauty as the " coming lorth of Morn
ing fair with pilgrim steps in amice gray,
After a night of storm so ruinous,"
In Paradise Lost there is no single passage comparable in sub
lime conception, condensed, and at the same lime magnificent des
cription, perfect rhythm and melody of verse, and exquisite beau
ty. In a few lines every perfection of the art is, combined. It ia
(his marvellous combination of powers which makes Milton preemi
nent, in whole and in part, alx>ve his mighty compeers, Homer and
Virgil. Every classical reader is familiar with tin- parallel passages.
Milton bad all these in his mind ; but how greatly he has excel
led, yet he can scarcely be said to have imitated them. I place
the references in the lower margin, and would recommend the En
glish reader to consult the several translations. In the oiiginal.
Homer's description is greatly superior to that of Virgil, who in
deed very closely imitates his master. Pope's translation is very
finely done, but is excelled in fidelity, as is almost always the case>
by that of Cowper, which is very close to the original. Milton's
description of the storm alone fat excels those of Homer and Vtrgil.*
. Milton's melancholy lapse from the Catholic faith of the ever blessed.
Trinity, which had been long suspected, f is, alas, now too well
known, since the discovery of the manuscript treatise, De Doctrini,
Vhriatiana, some years ago, in the State Paper Office. This has been
printed in the original Latin, and edited, and an English translation made
by Bishop Charles Sumner. The errors in these high matters of such
minds as those of Milton and Newton, while they should warn us
of the peril of lofty intellect in finite beings, should at the same
time make us lay our mouths m the dust : for when such men so
fearfully fall, it becomes us to take especial heed lest, while " we
think we stand," we fall into some of the various temptations to
sin and error which beset us in this stale of being.
But, I own, I am &t a loss to understand bow, in other respects,
Milton's theology should be brought into question, with regard to
the title and the subject of his second Poem of Paradise Regained.
It is alleged that he has made the resistance of the temptation of
Satan by the Messiah the completion of the Redemption ol man
kind, and the efficient cause ol the recovery of Paradise; and that
be has done this that he might place the pifobedience of Adam
in contrast with the Obedieuce of Christ. Poetically, he has cer
tainly made the perfect obedience of the second Adam to. do ;.way
with (he effects of the disobedience of the first. But it docs by
Homeri Odyis: . ?! Cowpers Translation B. V. 350.
Sditioii. Virgilii jEueid : 14b. I. 81.

Sonhey"

+ Various passages of the Paradise Lost, especially R. V. 604, gave the

critics just suspicion of his Ariau, or Semi-Arian opinions. But in bis early
works, ui pros* aud verse, be avows his faith in the 'irinity.

[ 9*1 3
no means follow.1-~ihough we mournfully allow the poet's heretical
notions as to the nature of the Son of God, and therefore ' big
detective faith in the Atonement, that he denied the. Atonement ; a
doctrine, which every line of his two. great poems demonstrates, he
held in so, high, i\ degree above the. modern Socioiaji, or Unitarian,
that tb,e modern heretic would dcera^ him an idolater.
His poetical system, required that the obedience of the second
Adam should be the ostensible, sign of the recovery of map
from the slate of condemnation, into which he was brought by the
disobedience of the first Adam. ' His poetical judgment has indeed
been called into question ; and thjs is a more lair subject of question
than to condemn his theology on account of the plan of his two
poem-i. On this head it is held- tha.1 the Temptation forms so in
considerable a part of the history of the Divine Founder of the
Ciirisiia i Religion thai it is no kind, of parallel to the splendid
story and noble invention of Paradise Lost,
Dr. Bentlcy, and others, are of opinion that the Resurrection would
have furnished a litter suliject, as being being more copious arid
more sublime. Thjs critic seems to think that the Poet himself
once hud this idea floating in his mind, when, in Paradise Lost,
he describes Jesus rising from his grave, spoiling principalities and
powers, and triumphing in open show by rris ascensipn * I had
rather adduce this passage in favor of tl;e soundness of Milton s
own theology, as regarded the resurrection, whjch 'Jhrislians confess
to be th,e consummation of the Saviour's Victory over Sin and Death,
He died lor our sins, and rose agajn for our justification.
Without questioning any of the known points of faith on the
subject of Christ's Atonement, but inclining to the doctrine
nov described wider the dcu.nin it:o:i of Ar.ninian, Milton took
the scene of the Temptation, as the basis of his second Poem.
If (\ve may suppose him to reason) it be allowed that implicit
obedience to the will ol the M.ost High in all ihings be the sure
fruit, rather than the sign, ol our Christian Faith, it is enough, for .ihe
illustration ol the principle, that one great instance be exemplified.
The Fall of man sprang from Disobeiticnre. The consequence of that
Fall was a partial abduction ol Diving Grace,' as it is termed by the
early Fathers of th,e Church. Man apostatized, and, disobeyed the
Law of God The fearful state of corruption, at whjch the hii*
man mind had arrived at the appearance of the Messiah, was
owing to their general apostasy, and their continuance in this dis-.
obedience. Such were the fruits of idolatry and unbelief.
Faith, on the cojitrary, is not merely shown by, but it is, a cony
tinuauce or perseverance in obedience through life, ever allowing
for human Irailty and infirmity. Faith is not merely belief. Helid is a barren plant, which without practical obedience grows in
hell itself; for the "devils also belieoe, and tremble." Faith there-

S. L. B. X. I&5 190.

i 524 )
fore has nDt this bare and single being. It is ilie whole tree,
not meiely the slein and branches and leaves, but likewise the
flowers and fruits,and is, therefore not cursed, but blessed. It is
the principle, wbicb impels . the sincere Christian to a scries of
consistent good works, or actions, that is, to a life of holiness and
obedience to the Divine Law. This principle Was illustiatcd by
our Poet in . one gr.eat instance of the Temptation of our
Jiprd, recorded by St. Luke, by the same evil Spirit "'ho, by the
temptation and fall of our first parents, as Milton had himself sung
in the solemn invocation to his first immortal Poem,
" Brought death into the world, And all out wdj
With loss of Eden; Tltt one oreateH mAn
Restore us, and regdin the blissful siaU"

ft L. B. I. 3,

Milton is thus consistent with himself;

The last thing which Remains for our consideration, is the report
ed preference by the Poet bimself of Paradise Regained before
Paradise Lost. For my own part; t am disposed to doubt the
right apprehension of this imputed preference. He knew the sources'
in his^ own i-mirid, and the strength of his own poweis; and,
conscious that he had as perfectly accomplished what lie designed
in his second poem, as in his first, be was naturally impatient of
the depreciation of Paradise Regained by incompetent jitdges.
Independent, however, of the intrinsic and comparative excellence
of his two great woiks, there are reasons which possibly irii^ht
induce this prefeience in the mjnd of our truly sublime Poet.
Paradise Lost was (it may be said) Ike work of Iris whole life.
He 4 gave the promise of it in one of the earliest of his prose
Works; and it is one of the most vigoious and eloquent passages
in the English language, He tells us that the work he contem
plates, is, not to be raised from the heat o( youth, or the vapours
of witie like that . which flows at waste from the pen of some
vtilgjrF amorist or the trencher fury df a rhyming parasite ; not id
be obtained by the invocation of dame memory and her siren
daughters, but by devout prayer to that eternal Spirit, who can
fenrich with all utterance and knowledge, rind sends out his Serahim, with the hallowed fire ol his altar, to touch and purify the
ips of whom he pleases : to this must be added industrious and
select reading, steady observation; arid insight into till seemly and
generous arts and affairs. This great object bounded the spiritual
horizon of his mind. It never was entirely absent from his
thoughts. It had some share in all his studies. All the secret
Contemplations of his soul were employed upon it. He never lost
sight df it. And Although it had no actual existence until he was
ah old man, and blind like another Hortiei, it may be said to have
been conceived, and almost born, and, In the processes of his won
derful mind, to have attained to a considerable degree of maturity,
ere the time came that it was poured forth like streams of living
water ; so full, even to overflowing, were the seciet reservoirs ol

i:

his inner soul.

[ 3* ]
Paradise Regained1 was the work of lot ekkr Vein. Looinj
Mrs the same of Homer't two great poems; that be compoaed lbs
Iliad in his youth, the Odyssey in his old age. There is a
golar analogy in the subjects of the poems of these great mind% as
veil as in the circumstances of their composiljun. The mind of MiJtflo, in bis old age, was moe disposed to entertain subjects of pare coa
temptation than tboae of action, which, we bare seen, is the moreprevaiting principle ol* Paradise Lost. The light of faith shines brightly sad
aeieneiy on this stage of bfe from the pages ol the New Testament,
whence the * i ijecl of Paradise Regained is drawn. The joys of
religion in the pU age of a well-spent bfe, when the passions are
nnder the control of a sanctified reason, most be infinitely more
pure than at the season, when, as it were, the moon is at the fall,
and the (ides are in feverish and restless agitation. The storm of
bfe is past. Vlin finds "his part, his harboir, and his ultimate
repose." He feels himself approaching step by step, to his " final
good." Old Age sees more than " through a glass darkly," It
antedates its final consummation. It anticipates the end of its
journey. It almost enters that Presence,
" Before whose sight tha troubles of thU world
Are rain as billows in a duhiug tea.,'

9nfbip antbologv.
XVI.
be "ting of Terrors" stalked abroad,
.And many a victim marked his track:
He stretched his grisly arm and seized
The only child of Peon Jack.
The Peon came with mournful brow
And said 'twould tend to heal the wound.
If " his kind Honor" would allow
The corpse to lie in christian ground.
"It is decreed" thus spake the Judge,
fit can'tIII yield not one iota,"
" Your Christianity's all fudge"
"I've heard, you swear on Banapote"
Poor Jack ! the picture of despair
At length replied, with downcast look,
"If Sir give order1 could swear"
"On that or any other book."
Fnrc'd to submit to this decree,
And I'll allow that none werejuster,
Twa* consolation still to see
The urcbin buiied Europe muster.

324. ]
XVII.

How fares the lonely pilgiim, or the wild

Untutov'd Indian, Nature's free-born child ?
For oft' those brave ami all-enduring men,
Die in (he desert far In. in human ken;
And when the wolves' und vultures' feast is done
Their bones are left to whiten in the sun !
Tile sailor boy lies slumbering 'nealh the wave
Unwept, unprayed for, in his ocean grave.
A shotted sail his coffin, the low breeze
His luneral dirge, his shroud the trackless seas. '
No marble tells the virtues of the dead;
No flowers aie scattered, and no tears are shed.
No voice is heard save of ih' eternal one
Who speukeih in the tempest; there are none
A -near him suve the monsters of the deep,
Thai round him sport anil by his side olt' sleep.
Those brave hearts too that in the battle fell,
Fighting for king and country, whose death knell
Was Freedom's shorn of victTy ; whose last prayer
Was for the banners which were floating there.
Witnesses of th.eir struggle. Side by side
Focnoan and friend lay sleeping as they died.
Shallow the trench, and bleak and wild the spot
Where sleep the warriors, soon to lie forgot,
Save by a few endear'd by tender ties,.
Whose friendship lingers o'er the dust that dies,
Lonely and lowly as theii graves may be,
Think- ye, my friends, their spirits are less free,
And fit for heaven, or their sleep less sound
Than theirs' who rest in "cousecrated ground ?"
Oh! no, Oh! no, it may not, cannot be;
For the Creator is our God, and he
Who made the green earth made the deep bine sea.
The fishes and the beasts, the liuits and flowers
Which nature yields, were given for ns and our's.
The field, the rock, the desert and the hill,
Were made for man to plant, to hew, to till.
Yes, the whole world, this bright and blooming earth.
Was bless'd and consecrated at its birth
Unto the human race: then who shall care
What is his resting-place, or how, or where!
Nay! rather how in humbleness and know
That if there be a thing or spot below,
Which may he bless'd and sanctified by man,
Tis not his empty words, but deeds which can.
The grass that grows o'er virtue's honest grave,
The flags that o'er our patriots' ashes waive,
Hi

The stake and block wbctc christian martyrs bled.

The stone whereon is laid a good king's head.
These may be gazed on with alUoveand pride,
For these and such as these are truly sanciificd.
Ed. C. M.

THE ORGANS OF THE BRAIN,

A COMEDY IN THREE ACTS, TRANSLATED FROM THB GERMAN tft
AUGUST VON KOTZEBUE.

ACT 2nd <CENE 1t.

Mk. Von Ruckf.nmakk (alone, with a letter in his hand.
a casket lies on the tablbj
Anonymous letters should be treated at the Post office j list as letters
from Italy are: pricked, smoked, and plunged into vmegarfor
tttey come from hem is inlecied with the very worst kind of plague.
JSnch letters are always indited under the pretence of benefiting the
party to whom they are addressed, but their real purport is the in
jury of the. person about whom they ore written. Their authors are
highway rubbers who hide behind a hedge and shoot at the passers'
by from their lurking places. Or rather they art blackguards who
go about in the dark ringing the house door-bells. A creature of ibis
description writes to irre" Be oir your guard. Vour son isbrwiging a lady disguised in man's clothes with him whom he has mar
ried here;a eoquelte who having made fools of a number of res
pectable gentlemen, myself among the number." Ah ! a disappointed
rival I sec " has a* last, ran away from here with your son whom
she has managed to take in. Save this excellent youcg man, and
do not despise the warning given you
" By your unknown friend*
" N. N."
Mr. N. N. is an unknown sconndTel and nothing better even if
his tntrltfgenc* be correct. It is true I remarked when we were
singing that the young gentleman had a voice like a boy twelve years
old hm then he told me that he sung falsetto. And my son with
his flat poll!No, no, I can't believe it. But I'll soon be at the
bottom of this Imsiness.If it's correct, Peter Goodsheep must ne
cessarily know of it. He has been sitting for the last two hours
before a leg of mutton in my anticliambcrThese geniusses have
astonishing appetites. He mint, howeiei, have eaten his fill by this
time (he goes to the door and calls) Peter Goodsbeeo! be so good
as to come here a moment.

32

SCENE 2nd.
The preceedimo,

Peiee (with his mouth full,)

iP<. Be a* brief as yon can, your honor, for I have but this moment
sealed my sell at table. It is just as had to disturb one l oims*
meals as at one's prayers. For the body must attend to its devotions
jnst as oim.li as the soul.
Jiiick. Cunning vogue! You ought to know that great men do not
sit long at table. 'When one has such a magnificent abulias you.
VetWhat! The matter in point now is my stomach, not my
skullAll the skull does for that, is to lend it a mouth. I had
bin abort commons on the road, and there's not too uutch to eat
in this house though they have given me at length a roast leg of
mutton, a bom, three sausages and six pancakes. There's still
some of them left and they arc by no means to be depised.
Riick.Very well. I'll let you go immediately. Only tell use
quickly is young Mr. Von Hellstern a lady ?
Vet. A lady ? How shonid I know that ?
Jiiick. Have you never seen him in woman's clothes ?
Vet. Oh yes! He generally woTe a while dress and a train
*s long as one of my mothers sheets with which he used to sweep
the siairs. I was very glad when he left, it of, for I trod upon
it twice, and each time tore a hule in it large enough for you to
put your head through.
Riick. So then she really is a woman ? What's her name ?
Pft Formerly when the gentleman used to sweep the stairs
they called him Miss Von Hellstern. But we were scarcely outside
of the gales before he buckled a sword on and I would not have
advised any body then to hint that there was something wroug
about him.

Riick. Is she really married to my son '

Vet.Tha.1 I don't know.
Rii/t.Come, come. It is very easy to see whether two people
atie man -aigd wife.
Vet. How is one to see that? I often thought in the town ire
Jbane just come horn, when 1 saw two people very I in id of each
Other that they certainly were man ami wife. And 1 was right
too, but then he was not her husband, and the was not hit wile.
Riick.^Bat, on the journey ? Did n't you help tlieui to unditss?
Vet. No, I was always drunk at night.
'Riick. Were u't you at the marriage ?
Vet. Now, look you, your honour, I have heen at a marriage,
it is a thing I shall never forget as long us I live, for there is
plenty to eat at a respectable wedding. If t&eiofoie these two 4Jn

[327

tlemen have "larried one another it must have been secret!/ ia

some disieputable corner.
Wick.I see, my good fellow, von don't trust me still, you
try to hide the rogue under the mask of simplicity. But vim
can't hide your skull. Those two hillocks are initial protuberan
ces of nit.
Pet.That's the fault of the lame jade that threw me into the
ditch yesterday with my nose in the dirt and my forehead on
the knotty roots of a tree, Has the brute made a perfect wit
of me ?
Wick. Well, well, I know nowgo along, go- and finish your
meal. But first send me my faithful servaot Katzrabe aud Miss
Von Hellstern.
Pet.Take care, your honor, if yon call him, Miss, he will call
vou an ass immediately1 know ithe even called tpe one though
we are the very best friends. But your Son (he scratches hit
note) will do still worse (ijoifiif) don't therefore remark any thing
{as he opens the door.) There we hare il the dog has stole my
muttonBe off. you brute what, growling at me! [exit.)
_*

SCENE 3rix
Mr. Von Ruckenmark, solo.
The rogue won't speak out plainly. But it is no matter. I
know well enough, heaven be praised, how to distinguish a female
kull from a mule one. Let her only come here. I shall have
it in a trice at the first touch. Suppose she really were a woman!
what shall I do in that case? she teitainly has a well-developed
oigan for music and even composes very prettily. But still her
skull is far from being so beautifully triangular as Miss SiurzuuldsSCENE 4th.
Thb preckedino and Caroline.
Car.What are your commands my dear Mr. Von Riickenruark ?
Wick.Let ns enjoy a quarter of an hour's chat about the or
gans. One so seldom meets with a thorough knowledge.
Car.That I hope to acquire under your kind tuition.
Wick.Your humble servant ! But what is your opinion ? How
is a female skull best distinguished from a male one ?
Car. (aside) What has put that into his head ? (loud) I'm too
much of a beginner.
Wick:I'll teach you that directiy. Apes have a very remark
able organ, and women the same.
.

328

Car.A great honor for our,

the fair sex.
Ritck. Now one has only to consider in what things women
most resemble apes. What do you think!
Car. -Why really I have not yet compared these two species of
skulls with one another.
K/'iVk. I have very often. We may say thai apes BTe malicious,
women are so also ; opes are fond of til-hits ami delicacies, so ate
women apes avc fond of peeping into looking glasses imitate every
thing rn.ikc piny things of the most useful articles, and have a
pleasure in demolishing them; all qualities which are also peculiar
to the female sex.
Car. A painter who cenaiply does not flatter ! [aside.)
Ruck. But partly there are no organs tor these propensities, part
ly, alas, they are all to be found upon men also. We must therefor*
search for such a quwlilv as is exclusively confined to women and,
apes
raud that iscau't yun guess yet! T^ht lout of their offtpring.
C<ir. Positively ? how acute !
Rtick. If you. like to examine bye and. bye the apes^.' skulls in
y, collection you can't fail to obscive a very largely developed proje.ciion behind on the poll. This is only to be found on women,
and on these animals, consequently it is the love of iheit offspring.
Cu;. Excellent.
Rm-k By means of this we distinguish the heads of the two sexes
at the first glance. Permit me to point it out more precisely to you
[offer* to touch her head.)
Gar.-^l thoroughly comprehend it,
Riick.No, no ! you may very easily confound it with the organ
ol ambition which lies just above it.
Cot;. Ambition I know well enough, I shall not be deceived by
that.
Rttck.But the love of offspring, Sir,or perhaps Sir,
will not deceive me. I beg qgaiu that you 'II allow me.
Car. Well then in the name of heaven.
'Riick. (feels her head) Ho! ho! ho! ha! ha,! ha! They have
"done yon injustice my dear Mr. Von Hellstem, great injustice.
Cor. How?
.
Rt/ck.-There*s not so much love of offspiing there as a cuck,oo
has! And it really is a blessing thai you ure not a woman lor
just observe tbal you have a very large orgau of dcsiructivcutss. You
would ceitainly murder all your children.
Cur.How did you come by the idea that 1 could be a woman ?
Rifck. I tell mmi, you are not a woman. 1 must know better:
1 am quite convinced of iu
.*-,.,

389

Car.But the iare thought ?

Rt7ck.Ypu have enemies, Mr. Von Hellstern, very spiteful ene.
mios. I must tell you all about it. Some creature has written me
an anonymous letter declaring that you were married to my son.
Car.Silly falsehood !
rfi/ck.:And that cunning logue Peter Goodsheep strengthened
iiiy suspicions still mure. lie would have tl.ut be bad seen you
in wiimeus clothes.
Cor. In all probability the lool spoke of my sister who is
Uncommon fy like in.e.
Ritrk. I rather think it was. one of his roguish tricks.He -fa
a sly follow -T- lie has. goi it behind bis gars as thick as my fist,
48 they say ; -or in other words he has a large organ of
tunning, which, as you know, lies behind the ears.
Cur.He knows extremely well how to conceal it.
Ri/Vk.That is the effect of the organ of representation. If the
man had gone on the stage he would have enchanted the public,
in spite of the little Roscios in F.nglund and London. But he does
Out deceive me, G.od be thanked, nobody deceive!) me.

SCENE 5t;h.,
Tiy: FRECBEP(NG AND

KATZHABB.

JTa/z. Your honor has commanded

Riick.Yes, my clear Kowrabe, 1 am going to give you a
comrumiou which will shew how much confidence 1 place in your
honesty with your permission Mr.. Von Hellstern, do you think
you i an liucl Mr. Von Bombecks house, close to the red gate ?
Kate.Oh yes.
RiVck, ( Takes routtous of gold out of the casket.) Tbeie^ take
these 2000 Louis-d'ors to old Mr, Vou Bombeck, and bring back
piy bond. Po you understand me ?
Kate. Thoroughly : your, honors commands shall be executed..
Car. (Softly) Be careful. If I don't deceive myself, I have
seen that fellow taken up somewhere.
Rf'jck.Ha ! ha ' ha ! The man may certainly be rather stupid but
he has not a vestige of the organ of ilieli, on the contrary, a
really enormous orgun of benevolence. Go my good fellow, go.
Katz.A wish your honor a long Hie (exit.)
Car. Bui, for heavens sake, 2000 Louis-d'ors are no trifle and
1 assure you it is tbe same scoundrel who was banished from our
pan of the country.

I 3$0 ).
ttijclc.Ton deceive yourself. The Prince might upon iny pledged
word, make bim his treasurer on the spot.
Car.Be cautious, 1 beseech you ; to please me.
Rj'ick.-'-Why ! yoit are httti very *lihlly convinced of the in
fallibility of the science of crinfiologvTo please ynu, however^
hut it is quite unnecessary. {He goes to the ilnor and calls) Katrrube.
wait, a moment, my dear Goodsheep Come hero.

StfENE 6th,
THE PRECEED1N6 AND

PRTER.

Pet."- 1 am Satisfied now 1 got the mutton away from the dbg,
Rjj'ck.Very good, Now be good as to accompany my valet
who is. going somewhere to pay 21)00 Louis-d'ors for nie.
IV.---Odds bobs and hail. That's a sight of money.
Rn'ck,Go with him and see what lie does afterwards you may
drink a bottle of wine in the public house to my health,
Ritck.Now go along together in the name of heaven.
]?*. {exit)
t

SENE 7th.
THE PRECEEDIKG WITHOUT PETER.

Jtiick.If that honest creature is only not offended at my sending!

some-one with hint.
Car.But Mr. Von Ruckenmaik, is that blockhead to watch the
crafty rascal ?
Riick. Ah my dear Mr. Von. Hellstern, would that we were
as cleer as that sly Devil, who has nothing of the sherp about
him but the name.
You remember thai Maperlius sketched
out a project for rearing a noble race ol men. Row he might
have certainly selected Peter Goodsheep. lor the father of the race.
Car. I have given you warring.
Jiiirk. Be. quite easy,if I had no other caresBut my son,
my son.
Car. (Alarmed) what is the matter with him ?
RfteAr.He Has- no wish to marry, from very natural causes' it
is true. I hod chosen Miss Stinzuuld for him, an amiable girl
with a splendid organ of music. You must make her acquaintance.
She is certainly not pretty perhaps even a little nglv. She is as
thin as a mummy and- lias a hump on her left shoulder. But

C 331

what maltfit that ? When she opens her mouth the rerv slows
dance, as tbey did of old roand the virtuous Amphinp, who, by
the bye, must have had an enormous orpan of music. No one en
quires whether Nightingales are humpbacked bey.' and as my
Edward bas certainly no occasion to look for personal beamy.
C/ir. Bat I am afraidyour son could never endure such a
skeleton.
Riuk.Ue is a fool. What is written in the Bible ? All flesh
is hayIs it not ?
Car.Yes-^bat it mast however hare been once grass.
Riick.You would do me a great favor, if yoa could persuade
him to marry.
Car,I?
Ruck. Yesyou are his bosom friend. What do you think ?
how would it be, if,- in order to bare more frequent opportunities
of talking to him about marriage, you were bout to sleep iu the
same room ?
Car.If it is your wish.
. Ruck. You must not take it ill.
. ,;
Car. Not at all. Quite the contrary.
Riick. Perhaps you are not accustomed to sleep in the same
loom witb another person?
. - ,
Car. I have be^n obliged to accustom myself to it lately.
Riick. Delightful! Now I beg yau '11 represent marriage as a
delicious thing to him.
Car.I'll do my very best,
Riick.How Would it be if you were to give him a good
example ?
Car. I ?
Kink. Yes, yes, if you were to mairy yourself?
Car.Why il a good match were to offer.
Riick.A good match ! what do you mean by a good match,
money ?
.
Car. Oh no that I don't wantI am rich enough.
Ruck.Organs then ?
",
Car.'I require only true love and fidelityOn other points I
am easily satisfied.
. Riick:-- -Hark you, Mr. Von Hellstern, if you require nothing
more, I can supply you with those.
Car.Ob if you would do that !
Riick. You please me so much, and you have such an ex*

332

cellent skull, lhat it rcal'y would give mo great joy to be rery

Dearly cuunecled uilli 31111.
Car.If you were but serious.
Riiclr.1 really am. When that anonymous rascal wrote rat
Word lliut you were a woman and married to my son 1 actually
did not know wbetlier 1 should he ungiy or whether 1 should con*
gratulate myself.
Car.Oh yon inspire me with courage to confess.
Riick. But 1 may still have the happiness of seeing my family
increased by you ? hey ?
Car.You would really have no objection ?
Rue*. Not the slightest. On the contrary 1 propose the match
to you myself.
Cur. And if it were alicady concluded ?
Rt'icit. Impossible.
Car. But if.
R<7ck. In this short lime!1 You must be a conjuior then ! yon
have only seen tiie girl at dinner.
Car. (starts) The girl ?
14(7. k- The girl ? Why yes, my daughter. 1 have only one
girl in the house.
Car.-(recovers herself) Exactly so.
Ri7ck. And you have already concluded a match with her !
Cr. Why not quite concluded, but all preparations made by
glances.
Ruck. Indeed ! 1 remarked nothing at all. But certainly it is
only maternal sentinels who observe such glances, and call out
immediately Who's there? Well so much the better If the girl
pleases you.
Car. Oh she is the most charming
Rwc/\ She has a pretty luce. A little pert, but in other res
pects a very good child. Nature has certainly not gifted her wlih
well developed organs.
Car.As I said, I require but little.
lick.The love of offspring is there, for thai I pledge myself
and besides that a little of the organ of numbir. She will, be
able to manage the household acrompts very well. She is not
deficient in the organ of firmness either, nearly all women have
that, namely obstinacy.
'
Car. It generally depends upon the husband however to dis
pose that to good purposes.
K 2

f 583 ]
Kitci.YeS if the husband always had the organ or aentt ness.
Car. Oh in this matter he only needs gentleness and love.
. Rur.l^.;The organ of love ! ha ! ha ! ha 1 Yqri are an arch
rogue Mr. Van Hellstern. But you are right. We aie agreed
then upon the principal points. It is true I cannot give you
a fortune vriih my daughter. But the properly she'll inherit after
my dealh. She may then vie with a princess were she even ai
rich as Mary of Burgundy. Mote than 1,000 skulls, and among
then even the 20 Lacedoemonians who fought at Thermopylae I
will rilso give yon in my will permission to cnt off my own head.
It really is, without boasting, by no means a bid one.
Car.You overwhelm mc with kindness.
fttrck.-^Ntit at all, for when I am dead, T care no more ibbnt
my skull. But should you die first, 1 stipulate that I may cut
off your head.
Car. It is at your service.
St'iVk. Done.
while it Is hot.

I'll call my daughter, we will strike the iron

SCENE 8th.
Caroline alonb.
Capital! I am the son's wife, and I am to be the daughter'*
tnsbftud ! I think the girl will gel me out ol ihe dilemma herself.
She is eighteen years old, pretty and consequently not without an ad
Oliver. If however she bus none she mush be tormented a little, lor
imi to have turned some man's brains at eighteen is a crime against
divine love.

SCENE 9th.
Mr. Vn RiicEFNMAitK, Emily and Caroline.
Ruck.Come along, come ! You shall know directly what is
ihe matter. Do you see Mr. Von Hellstern there? How does he
please you ?
Ei.1 only know him as my brothet's friend, and as such I
esteem bin) highly.
Rt^k. And he deserves it a hundred times more than your Mr.
Yon BonYbeck. tS'hy you 'can recognize his organ ioi music ten,
puces off.
"

334

F.m. It will afford me pleasure if he will accompany me pow

and then.
Rj'i'.k. Yes, yes, he will accompany you, that is to say, to the
liar and from thence to the bride-chamber.
Ei. My dear Father
RiVck. And afterward yon may sing together as much as you please.
Em.-I (rust
. UitV-k. That J am only jestingno, no,it is my fijced pur>
pose. How to your betrothed.
CarThe kind glances which you cast at me during dinner lead
^c to hope that my proposals tire not altogether unwelcome to yon.
Em. How Sir? I cast glances at you, and those kind glances ?
R/'/'ik. Lfome, dont deny it. I know allyou need not he
shamed or them. You hear that I give my consent.
Em. My dear Father, I do not even know the gentleman yet.
Ruck. Yon have only to feel his skull, and yon will know him
through and through. Now you may see what advantages mysystem confers. Whoever in future is deceived in his choice of a
wife has nobody hut himself to thank loi it. I am only afiaid
that some scoundrels will soon bring wigs, into fashion, again to
hide their bad organs.
Coa You know, nay dear Father, that even if the gentleman
were made up of organs of music from head to foot I can never
be his.
RiV/k. There you have it, the obstinacy
Car.That does not discourage me in the least. I'll bet that
belore evening the young lady sn.ks into my arms.

SCENE

10th.

The pkecekdino and Edward.

</. -There is a police officer standing without who dcsiies to
know whether it is true that you ln.ve accused of theft an inno
cent man who o Hired himself lor your service?
Ili/ck.-The fellow who was willi me early this morning ? Cer
tainly, lie is a ihief. He steals hke a raven. 1 advised him to
have himself locked up or he would soon come to the gallows. *
Ed. Did he steal anything lioin you.?
Rttck.What ? No.
Erf.Have you any prool then ?

335

ltticlc. -An organ of theft as large as a cabbage -stock ; is not

that proof enough ?
Erf.The police, it would seem, have not vet thoroughly com*
prehended the new systemThe man has complained, and has
proved that he has been an honest fallow all his lile All who
know him witnessed in his behalf, and I 'am aU'aid you will be
obliged to pay a fine of 50 dollars.
Ruck.Not even a rope will I pay for to hang the rascal with.
Where is the police-officer? It the man has only a leasonable skull,
why he will clearly see (exit quickly.)
Ed. I most follow him, for i( the officer should unfortunately
be broad or flat headed, my father is likely enough to insult him'
also (exit.)

SCENE

11th.

Caroline and Emily.

Car. And so you won't marry me ?

Em.No.
Car.Very decided.
serious.
_

But it is not possible that

...

you can be

Em.You have a great deal of confidence in your worthy person.

Car.What huve you to except to in my person *
am I stupid ?

Am I ugly,

Em.If I must be sincere, I find you are intolerably vain.

Car.Don't yon know that now-a-days it is allowable for every
one to be conscious of his accomplishments P Aud iliat modesty
is Only a miserable negative virtue t
Em. Pardon me. I had an old Governess who anxiously clung
to the notions current in the middle ol lue last century.
Cor. I'll soon cultivate your mind. You must know that I
have just left the university, where t studied philosophy, ol course
the newest, consequently 1 despise everything, particularly people
who have bad the misfortune to he burn twenty, years before my sua
arose. I am a poet too, aud nay rhymes ting as loud as the bell of
an Italian mule. In society 1 know everything best; at the Thea
tre. I hiss; aud am not tit lor any employment. What more would
you require1.'
' '" '" "
: '- '' :. - . , --,. "j.
Em.I really do admire you!"

336

Car.That I am accnstorood to. I always overtook women.Il I am seated at n concert anil a lady comes in who cannot fiud
a chair, J never rise; il Ae were to meet me in a narrow pail),
1 never give wav. If I ntnaik lit the thentre any one behind
who cannot see over my head, I never move from the spot. All
those of the new bon-lnu-wonien must he weaned of the fancy that
we young men aie bound to shew tuem certain attentions.
Km. You seem to have laid aside this prejudice thoroughly.
Cqr.7Yes, heaven he praised ! A young man must now-adavs
never inconvenience himself, never forget that he is yunng and conseijMcuilv that tlio old must yield 'o him in every thing. Fur what
are the merits of such old grey -beards.'' They have perhaps written
and calculated sonic 30 or 40 years, krpi. the state engine going
in its sleepy pacein short led a very prosaic life. That is all
gone by now. Our turn is come. We treat matters poetically and
philosophically, w solve the enigmas of the world, and found cointuercial towns shut out from all trade.
Em,Do what you please, only don't mat ry me.
Cor. Wc many also into the bargain, for should no one be
astonished at us, we' must have a wife at least to admire us.
Em. You would entirely fail in this object with me.
Car. You are pleased to fancy so But as soon as yon see me
put on my cout 4 I'incvovahle, when yon see roc look like a millers
aack in Irom and rear, wheu you see wi(h what grave 1 brush my
hair with all live lingers.
Em. Father yon are jesting or yon are an intolerable fop.
Or. Capital ! you already express yourself belter, much more
rndely. Nuw you may see what advantages the society of a young
inaii of Die present day confers.
Em. To be sure. But that I may not learn too aimh at once,
allow ine to retire.
Car. -Only one word. When is our wedding to lake place ?
Em. On the very same day that yon become rational.
Car.Oh you don't escape from meYon are n most charming
perverse creature, and I just be^iu to find that I am falling in luve
with you.
Em. \io\i did I come by that honor * You are so enamoured
of yourself liiat it's not possible that there can be space Jell lur in/
iiisig'-iticauce.
Car.Come, come. This passionate embrace shall shew yon. '
Em. {Pushing her away) ' Sir, you are kwl to all sense of shame.

337

SCEXE 12th.
The frecekdinu akd Mk. Vo. Bombeck.
Bow// --What is ibe matter here?
Em.Oh dear Ferdinand, help me against this forward creature*
wlio is d> termined to many n.e by violence.
Bob.~llv marry you ?
Car. Feidinaud! that sounds
deal I) beloved'

quite confidential.

Probably the

Em. Yea Sir, I make no secret of it. You see now why 1
catuui have the honor as your wile to admire yon.
Car.Oh that's no matter, 1 shall marry you.
flo/e.~May 1 enquire who the gentleman is, and with
right.

wbajt

Car.This question, Sir, 1 should rather direct to yon. 1 am

Barmi Helisierii, and the tathci oi' this young lady has just be
trothed her to me.
Bomb. Betrothed ?

Is that true Emily ?

Ext. That my father will have it so, is, alas, true.

bomb. Perhaps the gentleman has a large organ of music.
Car. 1 compose, Sir, 1 compose.
Bomb.Indeed ! 1 have also composed a piece with an accom
paniment of two swords obiigato Shall we Uy it ?
Car. Why

not ? if you are weary of your life.

Bomb. We will sec who is able to play best upon his instrument
Car...l give you warning Sir! What would your fair lady say
if 1 were to wound you 't
Bomb.. .One must defend oneself as well as one can.
Cr...l have such a wonderful facility in piercing hearts ; ask
your brother, belore we became such intimate liiends 1 wounded
him once very severely.
Bouii... Enough of boasting, draw, young gentleman !
Co#... Don't be alarmed, my luir lady,, to please you 1 will
yield. ..Mr. Von Ferdinand, oi whatever your uauie is, we will
make an amicable agreement.
Bo/io. There is only one way of doing thatYou must go away
and never allow yourself to be seen here again.

f. 338 ]
Car. 111 propose another to you The young lady I must marry
Bomb.Enough, draw Sir.
Car. Patience, patience, I'll marry her, it is true, hut yon.
skall be my house-friend.
Bomb.Abominable creature !
Car.Well if you won't accept that, I can't assist you. It ia
a genteel offer and there is a vast number of genteel people who
consider it such Do yon marry also, and I'll pay my court to
your wife, and then all will be in keeping.
Bomb. Draw, despicable boy !
Cor.What the deuce !Zounds ! don't yon see that I have no
iword ?
Bomb. Go and get one then, or you shall feel the flat of
mine.

SCENE 13th.
THE PROCEEDING

AND

EDWARD.

Car---Ha ! my friend ! you just come at the right moment.

Lend me your sword I must make haste and kill litis gentleman
here in a trice.
-Erf.You, going to fight ?
Car. Undoubtedly, you know rny courage.
Erf.This gentleman has all sorts of objections to my marry
ing your sister.
Erf.You going to marry my sister ?
Car.To be sure.
Erf.Ha ! ha ! ha !
Em.I beseech you, brother, induce yonr friend to give op his
silly design.
Erf.I thiuk he will soou change his mind.
Bomb. I love and have heen beioved by your sister more than
a year. The brother of my Emily cannot be so cruel as to wish
to separate us.
,
Erf.Why, fiiend Hcllstern, if that's the case, it would certain
ly be difficult to effect any thing lor you in this quarter.

Cr.*WW ? IVr ** hweroe asx4iwr is Wch thej P?*eHot I tare jt/ar father's coined aatd IU aunj lb *'>* -4*
the D-^-ccE-/.~ My Father promised Easily to jon?
Cr,~lf 1 wene rotHned to beast,
lelf offered me her band.
EJ.HmI ba! baY

I anight **J iheVbe hhn" .*-*]

E. I can't imagine how vemcin hogfa at it- . .Or.Yes ! not do I comprehend it caber. .
Ed's Hal bat- ba! duo'l take it ilL The rcrj haajrroan conM
not help languiug. Bui ceruiuljr" jf toy father has prouustd to yoo,
be uiiut make op her nliii'd.
F.m. Never. I won't have him. I can't endure him.
homh. He most go out wiih me.
J
Em. Brother, it it utterly incomprehensible lo me how yoti couM
have besluwed your friendship ujiou such a scamp.
*

Bo**.If he were only a scamp, that might pass ; but he is a bad

wan, he gave me pnui*siou i" plain 'nns to aci the house-friend
with his wife.
En1.Thai I ran easily credit', ha! ha* ha! yon would be doing
him the greatest service.
Em. Your merriment wilt drive me to despair.
E//. Must 1 shed tears iheu because my sister is to marry a
handsome young _ man ? Seriously Emily il is my most anxious
wish thut my lather should receive ibis' Heflsfcni into the uumher
of his child i en, ,aud> I. will do all in. my, pov* >" B^" my point.
Em. And I will do all iu my power to ilnvaii iu
ba.~ I nm you won U
. . tVr.No, lhat she will certainly not.

n ^ ^ . ,Wf ..,,

Bom6. Where, do we meet Sir?

Cor. I am not acquainted with this neighbourhood.
appoint place and lime yourself.
.,.

Botnb.- Five o'clock, this evening.

' <;t

'^J,

Pie*** <
..4 .',.

, ... ,. C*-,.--rViTiy good,, , . . , ,..,. .... : ,,, .iuj... ,?,,.* _Boi/iv.1 will come and fetch you, .,,.
.,
..-,

.;;,; t.CflirYou'll do me, hvor, , ,

Erf.'-'-H*'! bril brt '" '-

.. , f , .,,. .,., , v .
"> E ' **'- aJ

Bom'/
{Greatly irritated.) The brother of my Emily I would
not willingly consider s my enemy: but if the matiei appears so
ridiculous lo !iim.

.>*-t^ .;i >. n- n-*' fr* -fee*

lid. Upon my word it does ; enough to kill one with laughter.

r f 340 }
Btfmfl. WfeHf will you then accompany yonr worthy charming
Friend '
Erf. {Laughing) Most certainly*
J
JJm, For heaven's sake !
Homb.You are a witness, Emily, how they have thrust tht
nflair on me. Ridicule I will uot endure! Adieu gentlemen.>

{exit.)

Km. Brother, you surely will ndt

Erf. "Will not" what?
Em. Mr. Von Hellstern I declare to yOUj let the business ter
minate as it rriay, I will never marry you*
;
Erf.That you shall not.
Em. What? Did von not jtist now say.
<
Erf. Think only upon what 1 have said. My friend and I in
the mean time will go and sharpen our swords.
Car. Adieu ! my lovely betrothed {Loth exit laughing.)
Em. (Almost trying from vexation) Is it possible there can b
more pitiful creature in the world than a vain man ? (exit.)
,. . ,_.. ,

; ESD Of ACT SECOND^

THE TRAVELLERS AND THE ROCK.

From the French or De La Mexxais
A mat) was travelling in a mountainous country and he arrived at a place
where a grant rock having fallen upon the road, had blocked It up, and ex*
cept that way there was no other outlet, neither to the right nor to the left.
And- this man seeing that be could not continue his journey because of
the rock, tried to move it in order to make a passage; and be fatigued him
self with his efforts ; but they were in vain. And he sat down full of sorrow
nd said, " what will become of me when it is night, in' this solitude, with,
out fond, without shelter and without any defence, when the wild beasts
conic out to seek their prey !"
.
i.
And as he sat absorbed In this thought, another traveller arrived arid hav
ing tried and found himself equally unable to move the rock, sal down in
silence and bowed his head.
And after that many others came, hut none of them were able to move the
rock : and their fear was very great.
' . .. j
, : .'.

sa . .

,' B. _ ..a

t ut i
r At last -one of ihsm said to the others, " My brethren, tet tij prut to ar
rather who is in Heaven : perhaps he will take pit; upon us In this oaf
distress."
.And the; consented ; and they prayed to their Father who is in Hoaveoi
' And *>ht>n **y had prayed he who bad aaid " let n* pray," said also,
"My brethren, who knows but we may be able to do tegelbei that which
Bone of ns were able to do alone."
'
And they arose and strove together against the rock; and the rock yielded
to their efforts and they pursued their way in peace.
the Traveller is Man, the Journey is Life, the Koek ia the Misery which,
ire encounter at every step f oar way.
No man alone is able to remove this rock, but Goo baa so apportioned
the weight of it, that, it never arrests those who travel and strive together,
.

Vicroa,

RECOLLECTIONS
or a
GOVERNMENT

E M~I S S A R t.

COMPILED BT *B* ED1TO*.

CHAP. IV.
a."'

Origin jf' AsNey:.

dstlty Outwitting JVaytolmn:

The Corn l&it

Hints. Attack on the Ministers' Houses. A great mtm's gratitude.

The

Field of Waterloo.

General Gourgavd, a bvnepurtitl f*-

trigner.
Very lew who have visited the highly finished Utile Thwtfrie in
the Westminster Ruud, known us " Asiley's," can have any idea
of iht etuly career o!" the lather ol thai Kquesttinn Amphitheatre,
or 'of the liuiuLle appeal mice of the fiisl " tilcos." Old Asllev,
Joiner of the lase Mr. Astky, was ovi^iimlly Hiding Master 10
" Elliott's Light Horse," now ihe 15ili Dragoons, and so much
liked was lie by nil the officers of the r< gjntent lhat he was petmilled to keep a ridiug ground at Sumgait, whefc he gave lexsoifl
ie bejanner*, and occasionally performed, wiih his wife and children,
a few leals of horsemanship, to which the public were HtlunlU'iJ l
a small charge. Al ibe linn- 1 an) now writing of (1813) his re

[ 345 1
gitiu-n't voe fjiinrtered nl Kensington, and the WcstmineV Election W*|
going on in all its glory. In those days it was the gepeial tits*
torn to allow the {lusting* when done with, to be pulled to pieces
mid oatried away by the mob, as their perquisites : many n (ighJ
were tlie consequences ol this permission, lor some of the erections
on these occasions tost as much as two or three thousand pounds!
Iiv mean booty. Astley being a man of daring, collected as man^
pi the regiment as he possibly could and surrounded the Hustings' oft
the last day ol the election. As soon as it was over they made a
rush upon the buildings and carried the greater poition of them
Ktfny, in (lie' 'teeth of ifie mob: these (bey ennve/ed to the rjdiiic'
ground in (be \Vesimjnster lioad. at that period situated in the
mids.t of fields and lanes, and were there regaled by Astley to theit
heat is content, \\ilh the poles and planks of the Westminslet
Hustings was tlie original '-' Asileys" constructed: previous to that
everything bad been curticd ou in large tents.
There is also another; aoscdote o( old Astley whjeto deserves men*
tion as it shews the fertility oi bis mind [in expedients. During
the intervals of peace ou lite continent be frequently paid, a pro^
fesMonal visit to Paris, and netted considerable sums with his stud.
This was resented by tlie Palis managers, paiticuhuly as he occat
sionally performed small vaudevilles in a building after his horse, maoship in the open air. One day an older c,au)e from Napoleon,
through the Prefv't, to discontinue bis performing in a theatre or
oilier building. But the old dragoon was not to be dorie : be soon,
knocked together u moveable stage which be r.-iiscd upon the backs
^t some twenty ol h.is horses, and on this bis little company per*
buiiird while the audience vyere sealed under a shed facing, it aud
ol course the novelty of the tiling drew crouds to bis "-circus," so
tl.:.t this persecution was tlie best tiling thai could have happened

to him.
In the early part of 1,815 the establishment of prohibitory duties
po fnre.igi) corn c.aused serious disturbances, throughout the mrlrqrmlis, which were only quelled by the iuier.leceiice ol the, military.
Inirncnsic uiobs paraded tlie principal streets during the night, car
rying bludgeons, torches, &<., to the great tenor, cd the peaceably
disposed. 'Ibis. lasted lor some time, but at length, l.hey became
more daring and threatened to destiny the bouses of the obnoxious
ministers. These latter became, of course,, rather uneasy and most
of tlo in obtained a lile ot soldiers lor tbiir piotecliou. Lord fvonioutii, however was not easily dimmed : ol a haughty and domi
neering disposition, hu would not allow fur a moment, iluil a haiidlul
ol r.iblile could in any way discompose him, and accordingly re
jected all offers of protection from the Horse Guards. He declared
that with bis own domestics he would defend his house against any
mob ; but unfortunately when he came to muster his forces anil
arms he found that not one of bis .servants understood the most or
dinary use of a musket or pistol, and as to himself and two sous
they had never fired at any thing beyond a few' partridges. In

t 3 3
tLts dilemma he thought of me, who, as Captain in the Volume*?
corps, be supposed must know something ol guupowder and ramrods.
It was on Tuesday the seventh of Match that his l.ordship came
into my room and asked me if I thought I could manage to drill
and take ttie command of his sons and domestics. 1 assented, of
course, and tbe same evening went to hi* bruse iu Soring Gardens
to inspect his boast-bold forces. "Ibey could muster only three fow
ling pieces and erie blunderbuss, with a few pistols aud a rusty cut*
lass or two: I therefore dispatihed an order 1 our srtnotircr at the
depot for some muskets, ponder and slugs. To drill my little troop,
consisting of eight, was the next task and a roubltsouie one it was
too : however after two hours work at loud, prune, present, &c, with
divers maichings up and down the great haJl, I got tbtin into souiething like training. Tbe first watch for the night was thru set and
plaus devised for our defence. At the fart test end of the cntrnnce-bsjl
was a double flight of stairs meeting above ou a spacious landing
from which doors opened, right and kit, into the various sleeping
apartments. On this landing-place I stationed the wakb, as it
commanded a good view of the large fan-li^bt ovir the dew
through which I expected tbe attack would le p.idc, 1 be servauts
slept in a room opposite tbe one allotted n.e, >i d it was anauged
that if anything occurred, bis l.c-id>hi|> at.d mis wcic to be tailed;
they were then to divide the sen auls amongst il.tir, in ibvce rooms,
whilst 1 was to be stationed at the hi ad ol the staircase, i.i.d tail
ing one at a lime frorn each room, direct their fire. Nv;l;inji oc
curred that night beyond scut ip:pg:tiary olnims: our guild onus
or twice mistaking the toll of a l.aikccv conch for u mob lushing
up the street. At live in the morning 1 ueut berne, dress td, wiO(
to morning drill and theme attei Utakfusi to lLeHcruct.fl.te: at
three went once more to the pan. tie ground,- and at seven took up
my post in his hardship's bouse. J n acle up my mind lor an
attack that night, fori cXscmd as J urne along, numerous groups
of desperate looking nun, many am id with bludgeons, and all ui
low, deep conversation. '1 be aiithurilits l-au also nitiipiatioii to the
same effect and again press* d
his l.ordsbip to accipt some
aid from tbe military, but winch be again lelused. \Ae amused
ourselves till nine with diili and at ul.< ol ball past beard a
shout and a desperate lush, that made sune ol my little baud
quake. The mob came liinulin i sl\ on canying a great number
of torches and links which bad tbe i licet ol a general illumina
tion and at the same time enabled us to see all that was going
on in the street. We were wan civ at our posts when the house
was surrounded. Alter a lew u.iu.ints paused in consultation there
was a rush up tbe steps
and immediately half a dozcu
crow-bars and sledge 1 minus were hrrnght to liar upon the doorbinges. It was a leailnl tine, fir bad liny gained an entrance
nothing could hove saved us: but we l.i pi out cms fixed on the
door and when 1 fancied il gave way a little 1 jasstel lie wonts
" make ready" "present." 'J he hinges and bolls howcvci proved
true aud there was scon a cessation., of jhv blows, 'ihe laiUighl

I 344 .]
ver the door next drew their attention, which having' very slight
iron bars offered easy acee*s. In a moment the glass was shiVer'4
.by a showci oi stones, ami, one or two huge fellows ununited up
villi hammers to 1-u-ak the bars. , At the, sigl I of I lit first head,
through the broken' fan-light I raised my piece and sent a bullet
whizzing close to the rioters par" who dioppid from his exalted
but dangerous post, in doublcrquick time. No one veutilred to
take his place, ' but several lighted torches were Sung in at the
breach: fearful of the tire I order'd my iroop to pour a volley iu\'o the street, but over the heads of the people as well as they
could. This seemed to slugger them and a clearance was soon ef
fected iti the dangerous vicinity ol the door; the noise ol our shots
brought a picket ol men and a lieutenant, from (he Horse Giauds
where a strong loree was kept under arms all night, and they
coining up at double qilick pace wiib bayonets fixed, cleared the,
entire street without filing a single shot. Thai was the last of he
rioting and I gave up my command a lew nights afterwards,
loaded with the praises and thanks of my Lord Sid mouth, tic
" requested me most particularly to tell him if there was anything
ill which he could serve me as he would do * with great plea
sure, I said that I had a family the eldest of which was a boy
and should wish to see him provided for. "Very gooj;" replied
his Jioidshiu, "there's nothing just now, but when there occurs
any minor vacancy here, just let me know and it shall be your
sm'iv." Two mouths after this I waited upon him, as there was the
devoid vacancy, and was told that befell extremely sorry, but be
had promised it that veiy rimming to bis I oaclu/ian's sou! i
took good care not to trouble him again. So much lor u IViiuis" ie^'s gratitude !
i

My next employment was in (he month of June of thnt year,

(1&I6)' when I was sent off with despatches lo i.ord : \N ellnigtori,
then with the British Headquarters at Brussels wuiting lor tltu
arrival of ihe Prussian army of co-ojieratKm. 'J his was just llic
: work \ liked, und 1 wus in greut hopes ol Seeing some inutility
operations. Hut I was loo hue. J left London on the l.nii nlid
arrive*! at the Belgian capital, by way ol Harwich and Dstemt,
on the night of the ever,-memorable Ifcih.jusl in liuie lo heat" ihe
last of ihe straggling shots, und u> meet YVellitigUiii a victor.
Brussels, as may In; imagined, was in a style ol the almost eonfusion, uiid densely crowded. Haying fulfilled iim mission and of-ing at liberty, I paid a visit the next day to the fJe.d ol biifrli', anil
a more awlnl, blood) and hciui-reiidiiig scene 1 never witnessed,
and trust llevt-r shall again. 1 met hundreds of poor wretches being
conveyed to hospilid with broken limbs, Iructiind skuils and dread
ful gashes in all parts ol their bodies: there wcie liiiralh w.ig-i-n
Toads ol them, and their groaning as they passed along was truly
mournful. To the honor ol our troops be it km-wn that ilm
wonnded of both armies, F.ngtish and' French', were alike cored lor;
they were carried off as tiny ofleied, wiihoiii any tiiscriu.iiiiitioti.
Ihe approaches to the Pliiu.s ol V, utcrloo were swarming w nil every

T *3 3
description of human beings, women and children seeking their
husbands and fathers; camp-lolloweis and jews looking lor pi under ;
soldiers removing uriqs, auim,iiuiliuri, colors and. dead bodies ol officers';
couriers flying along at a gallop, with, orders to the different regi
ments : horses without riders; dragoons without horsesall combined
to form a scene of intense and melancholy excitement It was near
run-set when 1 arrived on the scene of action and the surrounding
heights were tinged with the rays of departing light, which seemed
to fling a more than wonted hue of blood upon the objects around.
There were the ruins of the w'mluull from whence Napoleon bad
given his last orders and had seen them executed in vain. There
was the wood on the led, Irom which the Prussians emerged late
in the day s there were the few vestiges of the farmhouses where
our Lancers had formed so often, and to, w bit b they were so often
driven back. Before me, in the centre pi the Plains, \ easily per
ceived where our gallant infantry, loiwicd in squares, had stood the
repealed, fearful charges of the French 'hassenis and the sweeping
desolation of the enemy's artillery '1 he spat was dialing uisl>ub3
by the immense heaps of slain that lormed perfect tampans of a
square form. Beyond, that the long line of dead dragoons and
horses pointed out the spot where our noble Guards bad made th<charge wliicb decided the fortune of Napolcpu. I did not quit
the plains till late at night when the moon was well up, and dining
my ride back to Brussels the numerous couriers 1 met, and the
sound of the many bugles in the distance, told me that our troops
Were moving, In the mot nitig our unny had disappeared and were
on the road to Paris.
Anion;-*! the many curious characters which my duties brought
me in contact with, was General Gouigattd, a violent Bounpartist,
and a great enemy to every tiling englisb. lie hud accompanied
Na|H>leini to Saint Helena where bis intriguing* soon brought turn
under the displeasure ol tbe Governor, and be was finally sent to
England. Even there he would not live quietly, hut must needs
mix himself up with the politics of the day : though he could speak
but a lew words ol euglish be attended all the radical meeting's of
note, and used every endeavour to spread discontent and disloyalty
amongst the easily excited populuce. A King's special warrant \v-s
placed ill my hand to arrest and convey him out ol the Kingdom,
but having warning of it he kept to bis house and only weul out
at dark. To seize him I had recourse to stratagem, lor 1 was loath
to uike him in the streets, knowing liim u> be "Well armed and ol twice
my strength. I went to bis bouse one loggy morning in tbe spring of
1815 when 1 knew he had just returned Irum a dinner-party at Holland
House and knocking gently at the door, gave the servant who opened it,
a letter which i suid was Irom Lord Holland. I bad three Bowstreet officers with me who followed at short distances, aud had or
ders to run to the door as soon as 1 was inside. My ruse suc
ceeded ; the girl took the letter, told me to unit inside, and went
upstairs with it. As soon .as ber back was tuuud 1 let in iuyr.
ifccn aud tun soi'tlj up the stubs tulLwcd .civt* by them. I rushed

346

iWo bis room as the door opened, but be was too" quick for roe
atld leapt out of bed on tin- other side; before I could run round
he bud seized a brtice of pistols; oiie of tvliidi luckily missed fire,
and as the other went off I raised bis arm just in lime to Save
one of my men who made a riish at bis throat and held him like
4 tiger, pinned to the wall. Amongst his papers were found letters'
and memoranda which plainly shewed that he was the medium of
uii active ConespondeULe. between Lords Holland, Durham &e.j and.
Napoleon and his friends in France. I look him in a post-chaise
to Harwich, at that time one of the chief Packet* Ports, but bad
si deal of trouble with him on the road, for although he had giten his parole to remain qiiiet he mule seveial attempts to escape,
and I was at last obliged to handcuff him. At one town where
we changed horses he tried to excite the pity of the people by.
thrusting his hands thro' the carriage window-glass and wiping the
blood over his lace, drying in a melancholy tone "murder! mur-,
dcr ! diable ! diable ' ! This of course created a stir and drew a
tuob round our Inn i in the midst of the fray the mayor followed by
Wo or three constables strutted Into the room and began talking very
big about preserving the peace and protecting the live* and liberlirsof bis Majesty's subjects, ending by calling upon me to make over
luy charge to him under1 divers pains and penalties. 1 made no
feply to bis official insolence but contented myself with shewing him
the King's warrant and asking him if he possessed a:.y greater
authority. The little great man was humbled in a moment, and
soon took his leave with a profusion of bows. 1 was right glad to
find on my arrival at Harwich that a packet was in waiting lo
convey my prisoner lo Hclvoetsloys, and lust no time in sniTend< ring
him to the captain nnd taking a receipt. My trouble with bim,
however, did not end there, for the scoundrel sent a bni^ memorial
of pretended ill usage received from me, lo his friend Lord Holland
who brought the case before the House, and obliged me to clear
myself to my Lord Sidmooth who explained the matte'- the fol
lowing night, and set the General's conduct in it's true li^ht.

THE CRKATION AND FAI.L OF ADAM,

ACCIIBDMO TO THE TRADITIONS or TUE UAHOMEDANS

'-

(Extracted from

the Seeha, im epit poem uritten in TamiT ly the poet

Omvh.)

When Rot) resolved to create Adam in order to glorify his prophet Maho
med, he commanded the Angel Ixraeel to fetch for, that purpose some earth
from Medina, and having canted it to be noshed in all the river* of Paradise,
formed out of it with his own hands the body af Adam, and infused his
spirit into tt.
As soon as Adam began to have breath in his nostrils, he opened his eyes,
and found the creed, " Lalii luha-Ulnllah Mahomed retool alloh" (There is no
U'jd but God, and Mahomed is bi* prophet), written over the Gate of JParsi

[
at*?.

347 ]

Ho gave glory to Gov, nd

afterwards

Mid, "O LnfcD God, incomprehensible !

name I

find

affixed to thine in the

resplendent with sparkling gems."

toman f he

addressed himself to bin tod

I know ni>t nho is M al owed, whose

writing over

the gate of

Paradise,

God replied, " 0 Adam, not begotten of

it the prophet, whom I trill raise op in thy generation in after

tine, that he may,

shining like a lamp, dispel the darkness of superstition

and establish the true faith in the world.

Were it not for him, I

abould

not hare created any thing, riot even thyself."

The Ifoor, or ray of divine intelligence being descended npon

Adam, Goo

proclaimed him regent of the universe, and desired evert creature to fall down
ana worship him.

All the angels worshipped him, except Aztizil, who was

therefore damned, and had the Same of Jbiit ot devil conferred on him.
Adnfri hating

evinced much uneasiness

Goo formed IfrtnVa (Eve) out of his

him.

As EVe entered the presence

side

on

account of bis lonely

and directed her

to

life,

attend on

of Adam, he, being unable to restrain

bis passion, attempted to grasp her hand ; but she refused to allow bint
oven to touch her, saying, " Pay me first the

Afnpgar i. e. dowry."

could not satisfy her . demand, he was much afflicted,

Aa Adam

aud implored the help of

Goo, who thereupon hade him recite the creed ten times in lieu of the dowry
which he did accordingly.
Adam and Eve lived happily togother in Paradise; bnt being seduced by
Iblh to eat of the forbidden fruit, they were cast down from heaven, Adam
fell in Serendil), and Eve. near Uidda f and remained separated from each
other for a very long time, until God moved by their entreaties, brought tbem
together on mount Arnja at Mecca.
Adam lived 1,000 years, and had by Eve forty children in twenty births.
The following is a list of the patriarchs from Adam to Abraham :
J.
?.
8.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
18.
13.
11.
15,
16.
17.
1H.
19.
10.

Sttlh. Setb
Yanons. Kno
t'aimm. t Hi nan
lUalmlecl. 51 ahalaleel
Jirrcrf. .la red
Ukmtooh. Enoch
Uri*
Mntkiimlahoo, Methusalah
I.niinrli. I.amech
.- ,
( Noab. He was born 1060 years after the death of Adam,
*on'
\ and lived 960 years.
ShAm. Shem
Arfnxnd. Arphalad
.v>/WA. Seluh
i'elier. Heber
PaUtku. Pelegj
li'iliit.

ReU

Snrooh. Serng
Nahuur. Nahor
Turah. Tenth
.
....
1 Abraham. He was born 1048 years after the death
lura""*
\ f Noah, and lived 300 years.
-...
s. C. C.
* i 1 \ ion.

"f la Arabia,

f 348]

-i'-

:"

Canto tl.
i .1

Twas as lovely a morn as ever broke,

The spell of the darksome night,
And joyously all creation awoke,
To hail. the return of light,
The fire edged clouds lay peaceful and still,
With the sun rays glancing between,
Reflected back from the sparkling rill.
That flow'd at the base of Blacklow Hill, :
*
And (reshen'd its pasture green,
And the gladsome lark on untiring wing,
Seem'd from the Earth to the Heavens to spring.
And downwards again and his matin song,
Rung sweet on the stilly air,
And the strain was resnm'd by a count'ess throng,
And Echo seem'd gaily the sounds to piolong, .
A nd all was beauty there. ...

Tissttfauge where nature is loveliest seen,

The heart of man should swell,
Where the starry Hosts in their glittering sheen,
Beam forth from the skies that are most serene,
His spirit should most rebel.
And that which might almost a Heav'n have been,
His passions have made a Hell.

3.

.-'.'- "' ..'

Yet look to the East, the lovely land,

Which yields to the ever grasping hand,
The gifts of the rich unceasing soil,
- *
Free, from all labor, free from all tiol,
And mark ye the deeds from earliest time.
Of rapine, and slaughter and blond, and crime. ,
Mark ye the dark and fearful, throng,
Of heartless murder and snvage wrong,
That have cast a deep and deathless stain,
From Statnboul's wall to the Deccan's plain.

**

it.-:*'. . . ;. .

On Blacklow Hill at break of day, ,

Were gather 'd a warlike bami . |
Whose dented Mail and wild array,

-:>

. <

t to* 1
And fbe crimson stain 'd and sheatbless brand.
And one wlto.stood with shackled band
Be spoke the recent fray.

Against an elm, and in the sbade

Its broad and leafy branches made,
Sir Ernest Trevor hrebly leant :
His sunken e/es were downward bent,
So motionless you might bare deem'd
Twas some Sepulchral monument;
Or form pm-liam-e of one whrr-Jream'd
Bv mystic spell in slumber deep,
A living deatha wakeless sleep.

He gazed not on the throng who made

That morning council's wild parade;
He saw his direst deadliest foe
'With fetter 'd limb, nor lelt the fire
Of hatred's gratified desire,
Or fierce resentments fever 'd glow;
For he mused on better and nobler things,
in the depths ol his soul's most secret spring*
And though thai foe had remorslessly fell'd
The hopes and the jots be bad dearest held.
And made him the foremost in civil strife
And darken 'd bis picttir'd path of life,
With deep undying utrvanishing gloom,
Yet he spoke not n word to aid his doom.
But bis spirit wits wand'ring lar away
To many a lovely but fleeted day ;:
And be seem'd on the wing of memVy borne
To. bis joyous boyhood's opening mom.
The scenes be had known repass'd liiui by,
From the hours of early infancy,
To his manhoods best and proudest bloom.
And forms now sleeping in the tomb,
Forms that long and lor ever had tied
The sik-nl but iinfurgoiten dead,
Seem'd by a wizard spell to rise
And pass belore his mortal eyes,
And in spectral silence to hover nigh
His soul in its passionless teverie.
7.
Piers, silent stood, with folded arm,
Though pale bis cheek, bis brow was calm ;

350

Though captive bound he still defied

The conquering chiefiains by his side.
And sternly as the stubborn rock.
When storms convulse the mighty deep^
And rushing billows past it sweep,
Yet quails not at the tempest shock^
He stood unheeding the debate,
For well be knew his settled doom.
The ready axe the sil cut tomb.
And little reck 'd what savage hate,
That bitter doom could aggravate.
With1 proud resolve and brow serene,
\Jiiquivciing lip and haughty mien,
He brav'd his fate ,

a.

He heard unmor'd each Baron give

H"is sanction to the stern decree :
And sooth would scarce have deign'd' to liv$
Dependent on their clemency.
He heard unmov'd the sentance given
That was to snap apart the chain
Of busy life and he had striven
With them upon the battle plain,
And through their foremost phalanx driven
. ' But fought in vain.
9.
Yet when Earl Warwick spokehis eyes.
flekindled with the sudden fire
Of feirce and deeply scaled ire,
And flash 'd upon hiinscornlully :
" Piers Gavaston the hand of I leaves
" Has bounded thus thy life ol crime,
"Renounce thy false heart's honied leaven
"And filly spend the fleeting time,
"That yet on Earth remaius for thee;
"And brief it is, tor ere the chime
"Now pealing Irom yon belfry tower,
"Shall hole another vanish 'd hour,
" Thy soul must face eternity.
10.
"I will not taunt, thee with the thought
" Of all the ill that thou hast wrought, . ,
"For well I know reflection brings
"Home to the heart its sharpest slings
"And though that heart itself may steel,.

331

" And proudly quell the inward strife,

"Arid dark remorse but little feel
"Amid the busy scenes of life;
"Yet mask the knowledge as we may
"There comes at length u darken'd hour,
"When strengthen "d by the long delay,
"Stern conscience re-asserts its powet,
"And brings before the wearied eye
"The trace of deeds long vanish 'd by.
" And when the leaf of life is sear
"And wither'd up unseals the past,
" Recalls the dark and wild career,
"And claims the bitter due at last.
"Enoughin truth no clerk am I,
"To preach to thee divinity ;
"I count thee as my country's foe, .
"To her thy forfeit life is due;
"Yet though for her I strike the blow,
"I could not slay thy spirit too.

u
"Then consecrate the time to prayer,
" And learn to bend thy haughty knee
" To that almighty Majesty
" Who churchmen say is pleas'd to spare,
"And if that I remember right,
" Beside yon wood was wont to dwell,
" In some antique secluded cell,
" A sage and holy anchorite,
" And doubtless he can shrine thee well.
12
"Hold yet a moment, little care
"Have I for priestly aid to prayer,
" I shrink not from the stern ordeal
"Of gleaming axe, I cannot leel
"The coward dread that can impel
"The soul to clutch at empty air,
"From churchmen's lips, and book and bell,
" And all the bauble beads they wear,
"To fearless hearts must ever be
"A strange -unmeaning mummery
13
"But let it passI little know,
"Of aught of this,
"The sum of happiness below
"Is but to mark the red wine flow,

352 ]

*To aid. a friend to strike a foe ;

"All other bliss
'That shaven Monk and subtle priest
"The last in song the first at least,
"The dreamy hope of which they prate,
"Ol some unknown and viewless state,
" Reserv'd may be,
"For whining girls and coward knaves
"And p.ions. fouls and bunded slaves,
" For crazy youth aud doling age,
" For peasant churls and palmers sage,
"And such as thee.
"With me or with my spirit's sphere
"For weal or woe, for good ot ill,
"No meddling knave shall interfere,
" But chainless and unlenring still
'And free as yon upsoaring bark
"To him who from the dim and dark
"Abyss of matter, for in 'd this frame
"And lir'd within the vital flame
"That thrills and glows through ev'ry vein,
" Will I resign my soul again,
14
The light of day was roaming fast.
And Eve its lenglhenening shadow cast,
The Seneecbal bad gone bis round,
The bridge was drawn the gates was bared,
All idly lounged the Warders guard,
And from the Hull ther^ came the sound
Of muistre1 harp and irteiry song,
And peals of laughter loud and long,
Whose echoes glided gailj by,
As though within a joyous throng
Were chasing hoary Time along,
With free and careless revelry.

******
*****
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
On Blacklow Hill a lowly grave,
Enshrouded that which once had been
Piers Gavaston, the guy and brave;
For him the brief and troubled scene
Of life was past, and now he slept
In peace beneath, the herbage green,
O'er which a lonely hedge rose crept.
Now genim'd with dew, as though it wept
" That one so young, and blithe, and fair.
Should find his early resting '.here.

t 343 }

Zl}t 0 a t % t v i r.
Humasity. There is no work which of married life.' Strange and unOAmora clearly distinguishes the huma
tural as such a sentiment may appear,
nity which has the love of Gi> for it was just what might hare been ex.
it's principle, from ils counterfeit, a pected from one accustomed to such '
false and superficial politeness, thau selfish views of a relation so holy and
this that while the last flatlets, in blessed in its nature. It is all iui- .
order to extort in return more praise portant that charming pictures of do.
than ils due humanity, like the divine ineslic life should be presented to the
principle from which it springs, seekelh young. It should be described as, what
it really is, the home of woman's af
not even its own. jjaunak Mtire,
fections, and her pUasantest sphere
Advice to the Ladies. A pretty
of duty. Your dauuhter should never
hand and pretty foot always go to
hear her own marriage speculated or
gether, when we speak of one we are
jested upon ; but t\te subject in gene
always sure to think of the other.
ral should be associated in her miuil
For this reason stepping on a woman's
foot is equivalent to squeezing her with everything pure, bright aud cheer
ful." Mrs. Child.
hand, and cquuly proper, but some
Fredrick the Great had five libra
times more convenient, as it can be
ries, all exactly alike, and containing
done under the table. He careful,
the same books ranged in the same
however, never to attempt it at a crowded
order ; one at Potzdam, a second at
table for tear 'of making a mistake.
Sans Souci, and a third at Berlin, a
We once saw a lady very much con
tused, who Mas trying to give a signal fourth at Chiirlnltenbiirgh, and a fifth
St Ilreslaw. On removing to either
to a getteinan opposite, and instead
of these places, he had only to make'
of, his, she trod and' pressed on the
a
note of the page at which he left,
corn-covered toes oi an old bachelor.
off to pursue it without interruption
He bore it as long as he could, and
ou his arrival. Accordingly, he always
then very quietly remarked, " Madam,
bought five copies of the bouks he
when you wish to step on a gentle
man's toes, be particular and get the chose to' read.
foot that belongs to him for the last
five minutes you have been jamming
inv corns most unmercifully."
Foolish Mammas."Some mothers
are always talking about the cares
and duties, and sacrifices incident to
married life! they are always urging
their daughters to * enjoy themselves
while they are single' 'to be happy
while they have a chance' but at
the same time that they give such a
gloomy picture of domestic ljfe (making
a frightful bugbear to the young ima
gination) they urge upon them the
necessity f getting married for res
pectability's sake. They wi<,be 'well
settled,' as the phrase Is. The victim
must be sacrificed, because the world's
opinion demauds it. 1 once beard a
girl, accustomed to such remarks, say,
with apparent sincerity", ' I should like
of all thiugs to be married if 1 could
be sure my httshand would die in a
fort-night ; that I should avoid the dis
grace of being an old maid, and get
ting rid of the restraint and trouble

Friendship. When we see leaves

drop from the trees in the beginning
of autumn, just such, think we, is the
friendship of the world. While the
snp of maintenance lasts, our friends
swarm in abundance; but in the win
ter of need they leave us Daked. He
is a happy man that hath a true friend
at his need ; but he is more truly
happy, that hath no need of bis friend.
Love at. Sight. A servant girl, in
the neighbourhood of Paisley, one day
surprised her mistress by giving |up
her place. The lady inquired the
cause, and found it was that' fertile
source of dissension between mistress
and maidservant a lad. " And who
is that lad ?" inquired the mistress.
" On he's a nice lad u lad that sits
in the kirk just foreuent me." ''.And
when does he intend that you and he
should be married?" "I dinna ken."
'* Are you sure he intends to marry
you at all ?" " I dairr say he does,
mem." "Have you had much of each
other's company .'" "Vo yet." " Wfiin.
;

.j'Jt-d *

354

you did 1a9t convene with him ?" " 'Deed

we hae riae conversed ava yet.*' " Then
now should you suppose that he is
soing to marry you ?" " dn," replied
the simple girl, " he's beeti lang lnokm'
at me, and I think he'U soon be
apakin."
Cehtsmony. It is the etiquette of
Cambridge, and Oxford that no geullfiiian speaks to another unless he
has been formally introduced to him;
*nd a story is told of a student's re
fusing to assist another who bad been
upset in a boat upon the Cam, arid
struggling to reach the bank, " be
cause he bad not the honour of being
acquainted with him."
The Ladies. At a festival lately
'given1 by trie firemen of Detroit city,
an engineer, Pierce Yeblet, gave the
following toast." The ladies, tHe only
Incendiaries who kindled Barnes which
water will not extinguish."
OlD Maids and Sixole Ladies.THe
'ingle state is no diminution of the
beauties and utilities of the female
character; on the contrary, our present
life would lose many of the comforts
and much likewise of what is absolutely
essential to the well being of every
part of society and even of the private
home, without the unmarried female.
To how many a father, mother, brother
and not less sister, is she both a
necessity and a blessing? how many
orphans have to look np with gratitude
to her care and kindness ? how many
nephews and rieices owe their young
felicities and improvements to her?
were every woman married, the paternal
home would, in declining life he a soli
taty abode, when affectionate attentions
are most precious, and but from such
source, not attainable.
It is a single class of women, which
Eupplios most of otir Teachers and
Clevernesses, and from the lower rank,
nearly all tho domestic assistants of our
house hold come. What vast Changes,
not promotive of the general happiness
would ensue, in every station of life,
if every female married as soon as she
was fully grown. Certainly, human life
in that case would have a different
aspect and must he regulated on a
new principle and would lead to roilSequences, which cannot be calculated.
Tbe single woman is therefore as
important an element of social and
private happiness as tho married une.

The abilities of each so different, but

both are necessary, and it is vulgar
manner, unworthy of manly teason, and
and discreditable to every just feeling
for any one to deprecate the unmarried
condition.
If therefore from what is
beneficial we turn to What is interesting
the single lady is not surpassed, by
the wedded matron. For no small por
tion of her life, (I think for the whole
of it) with a judicious conduct, she is
indeed the more attractive personage.
The wife resigns, (or ought to resign)
her claims to general attention, aud
to concentrate and to confine her rej
gards, wishes and objects to her cHoseti
companion and To donieslic claims and
scenes ; she Has quitted the public
stage, she seeks no more the general
gaze ; she has become part of a distinct
and separated proprietary.
But the
unmarried lady remains still, tbe can
didtile for every honorable notice arid
injures no one by her receiving it.
Those of the male sc.v. "ho are in tlio
same condition are at full liberty to
pav her, their proper attentions, as' sho
is to receive them. Iiein^ in this posi
tion as to society at lar^e, she is always
interesting wherever she goes, and if
eh - preserve her good teo-por, her steady
conduct and her modes! reputation
undiminished aud her truly feminine
qualities, she cannot go any where, in
anv station of life, with ml heini* an
object of interest and pi asurable feel
ing, to all those of her circle, with
Whom sho may choose to be ac
quainted.
Clf.anlin'fss. There is a homely,
but very
forcible, expression (most
homely expressions are forcible) that
" cleanliness is next to godliness ;"
meaning thereby that habits of clean
liness lend nut only to health of body,
but to that state of moral feeling, which
becomes man as the chief creature of
the Almighty. One of the first acts
of mental degialiott is nep'ect of th
person; filth and rags are always as
sociated with misery, and often with
vice and crime ; nnd this remark ap.
plies to nations as well as to indi
viduals ; for we find that the nations
lowest in the scale of civilization aro
those which are deprived of political
freedom, of domestic comfort and of
mental culture. A man, even though
the most valuable portion id' his timo
be devoted to hard labour, if supplied
through such labour with the means

955

ct procuring domestic comforts (pro

difficulty awaited him ; and one for"
vided he have njt lost his self-respect which he was wholly unprepared. Ttit>
hv vicious habits') is necessarily an smoke found a vent through a smalt
elevated being. Labour does not de
circular opening or louver, aa it was
grade him; but,- on the contrary, ren
termed,for there was no chimuey-iwt
ders him respected and respectable ; to disperse it in the air, in tin- bat.
it makes him valiiable to bis country Dements. Through this opening; he
and to himself. We seldom see such roust necessarily creep ; and, provided
a miia dirty, or his famly iri rags; he cOnld accomplish the feat, he had
be has that within him which pro- to elude the vigilance of the sentinels
dues the exalted feeling that he is stationed on the roof of the turret.
a free man, possessing and enjoying Luckily, the night was profoundly
dark ; and the gloom, increased by o
the rights and dignity of freedom.
thick mist from the river, was so in
Matrimony. Marriage enlarges the
tense, that an object could scarcely
scene of our happiness and miseries.
A marriage of lore is pleasant; a be discerned at a font's distance.
Thus favoured, Gilbert resolved
to
marriage of interest, easy ; and a mar
hazard the attempt. Watching his op.
riage where both meet, happy. A
portimity, he drew himself cautiously
happy marriage has in it all the plea
through the louvers and without being
sures of friendship, all Dae enjoyments
noticed by the sentinel, was stand
ftf sense and reason, and indeed all
ing beside it, crouched beneath the
the sweets of life. Nothing is a greater
carriage of a culverin. In this state,
mark of a degenerate and vicious age,
lie remained for a short time, medi
than the common ridicule that passes
tating what course he should next
on this state of life. It is, indeed,
pursue, and nerving himself for some
only happy in those who can look desperate attempt, when a door ai the
down with scorn or neglect orl the
southern turret suddenly opened, and
impieties of the times, and read the
three men-at-arms, tho foremost of
p-uh of life together in a constant uni
whom carried a torch, came to relieve
form course of virtue.
guard. Aware that he should now in
Do not entrnngle your mind by ir
fallibly be discovered. Gilbert started
revocable determinations, nor increase
to his feet, and drawing a dairgor
the burthen of life by a voluntary
which he had picked up in the giants'
accumulation of misery. That you
chamber, stood upon bis defence. Th
have been deprived of one pleasure is
movement betrayed him. Though con
no very good reason for the rejection
founded by his appearance, the sen
of the rest.
tinel neatest him presented his partiAw ESCAPI FROM THF. ToWF.II. " Oil- zan at his breast, and commanded
hert having freed himself from his him to surrender. Gilbert answered
by striking tip the man's arm, and
bonds, and clambered into the chim
ney in the By-ward Tower, ascended instantly sprang over the battlements.
without any inconvenience, except A loud splash told that he had fallen
what was occasioned by the ptmgeut into the moat. The men held thesmoke arising from the Mazing fagots torch over the side of the turrent. Brit
beneath, until he reached the level of it was too dark to distinguish any ob
the upper storv, where another fire ject below. Presently, however, a noise
place, connected with the passage up was heard in the water thBt convinced
which he was mounting, so narrowed them the fugitive was swimming for
its limits, thut it seemed scarcely pos the opposite bnnk. One of the soldiers
sible to proceed further. The sound instantly discharged his caliver in tho
of voices in the chamber on this floor direction of the sound,but without
also alarmed him. and for some mi
effect. This served as an alarm to
nutes he suspended his labour to lis- the guards posted on the western ram
parts, as well as to those on the Mid
ten
But as nothing occurred to. dis
turb him, and it was evident, from dle Tower, lioth of which commanded
the conversation of th* speakers, that this part of the moat, and other shots
he had not been noticed, he present
were immediately fired. A signal was
then rapidly passed from portal to
ly resumed his efforts, soon vanquish
portal, until it reached the ftulwarVed all ohstacles, and gained ths open
ing of lha chimney. Here a fresh gate, which formed the only entrance

f 35<J
ie the fortress on the west, and a bo
dy of arruod men carrying lights In
stantly sallied forth and hurried to
wards tho side of the moat, filbert,
meanwhile, swam for bis life. Guided
by the torch oa, which served to dis
cover hfs enemiers rather than to be
tray him, he effected a secuvo landing.
But before he had climbed the steep
bank, he was observed by a soldier,
who, making towards him, shouted to
bis comrades for assistance. In the
struggle, that ensued, the torch borne
by the soldier was extinguished, and
bursting from him, Gilbert darted at
a swift pace up Tewer hill.
His
pursuers were close upon rn'rii. But,
well acquainted with the spot, he con
trived to baffle them, bv flrnnirig
himself beneath tho permanent scaffold",
then standing upon the 'row of tho
eminence, and thus eluded observation.
As soon as his foes had passed, he
track off swiftly to the left, and leap
ing, a low wall, skirted All hallows
Church, and speedily gained Towerstreet."Aintworth's Tower of London.

A Perfect MacSjam. A man haj

been confined in tho Philadelphia A6yr
h.m for the Insane, for picking a print
ter's pocket! He must have been be
reft of his senses to undertake to rob
a printer.
Editorial Seksibit-itt The fa*
rinating Miss C.'s grand toiret, 697,
Broadway, will be given to-morrow j.y
length, with the usaal poetical embeU
tiswents. When we talk or think of
lovely or interesting young women I
always feel poetical, and as if I oc.
ctipied the nest apartment to Paradise,
New York Mdrnihg Herald.
. T>bc!ikolooy.The New Orlatn* Sim
tells of a machine which has been in
vented "out Sooth," which enables a
man to tell when he is getting too
drunk to walk. It is called a fuddleometer, and gives a timely warning by
bitting a fellow suddenly under tha
short ribs the moment he baa gal
enough.

xttart0 from $JcrtoDteals.

, Stoke BAitrmitTAB. A Findland
Newspaper mentions a stone in the
northern part of Findland. which serves
the inhabitants instead nf a bavometar. This stone which they call IImnkiur, turns black, or blackish grey,
when it is troing to rain, but on the
approach of fine weather it is cover
ed with white spots. Probably it is a
fossil mixed with clay, and consisting
of rock-salt, ammoniac, or salt-petre
which according to the greater or less
degree of dampness of the atmosphere,
attracts it, or otherwise: in the latter
case the salt appears, which forms the
white spots.Mirror.

This monument of ancient hospitality

is mouldering [in a damp vault quite
empty. The celebrated Tun of Korjigsicin was said to be the most capa
cious in the world, holding l,869,336>
pin's : the ton is railed in and it atfords room for 20 people to regale;
themselves. There are several wel
come-cups which are offered to stran
gers that they may drink: on them
arc latin inscriptions which say ther
Tun was built bv Frederick Augustas'
Kintt of Poland and Elector of Sanouy, in 1725. Mr. Menx of Liquorpond street, Gray's Tnn I.ane can
show 21 vessels containing in all BA.OOft
barrels, one alone holds 4.500 barrels.
In the year 1790 this brewer built
another which contained near 12,000
barrels, valu-d at about 20,000. A.
dinner was given to 200 people at the
bottom of it and 200 more joined tho
cempany to drink success to this un
rivalled vat. Ibid.

Probdiknao Beer Casks. At Hei

delbcrg on the river Neckar there was
a Tun made in lrifi4 which held fiOO
Hhds. This was emptied and knock
ed to pieces by the French in 1688.
But a larger one was afterwards fa
bricated which held 800 Hhds. It was
formerly kept full of the best Rhenish
wine, and the Electors have given
We have bad an opportunity of. in
many entertainments on its platform. specting the process for manufacturing
V 2
.,
.,
*

t 837 ]
an. entirely new species of tissue and
tapestry, which wus originally invent
ed or discovered by Si. K. 1'arry, and
which, we understand, has been se
cured by pulrut, and which, as the
material is produced in our oni colo
nics, promises to become an article of
great commercial value. In particular,
tve would refer to some coverings of
chairs and tapestry, which have been
especially ordered by her Majesty for
the palace. It bears so strong a re
semblance to silk of the best kind,
that it is difficult, without a minute
examination to discover the diSereuce.
The material of which it is composed,
is the fibre of the I
ui.i. aloe, and
other trees and plums which ure found
in our West India islands, ami by
very accurate experiments, made by
cmler of the French Government, "icy
hiive beeTj found on an average to ex
ceed the strength of heuip by oncfourth. The experiments wt re made
at Toulon, upon cordage which had
been six "months exposed to the air,
and an equal lime immersed in the
sea. We understand that the Trench
Minister of Marine has introduced
ropes and cables made of this mate
rial, into the Royal Wavy, and as it
is so much superior to hemp, wc see
DO reason why it might not be advuutageously employed in ihe cordage
of the royal and commercial natives
of this country. J'ost.

graving: it was executed by Didier,

l'l'tit, & Co. We learned that ther*
4>ere l.t.Hj ilireads in each square
inch (French), in both the warp ami
the woof; and tint 24,0011 bands of
card were used in the manufacture,
each band large enough to receive'
1,050 holes.
Owing ' to the ' bla*clC
threads passing under them, the tone
of the highest light was grey, though
tin's was scarcely perceptible.
'1 he
t;reat difficulty to he. overcome, warn,
it is said, the keeping the broad mar-*
gin round the picture perfectly even
in colour, and regular at Ihe linos'
forming the edge of the picture.
Mechanic's Mtiytifine.
FAREWELL TO HOME.
B?

pbisce Ai.iip.iir.

(Meia LeheictM.)
Let me now recall the pleasures
That dwell around my native home ;
Let me count once more its treasures,
'Ere to distant lands I roam.
'
(
If I pass you Alpine mountains.
If I cross yon parting sea,
Or roam beside Italia'* fountains,
Still home, dear home, I'll think- of thee!
Hark ! a voice this moment calls me
To my part in honour's strife,
There to meet whato'er befa|ls ine.
In the stem career of life.
And in her bright page ol glory,
Where lur deeds immortal shine,
Say ! shall I too live fh story ?
One of the most extraordinary spe
Shall a deathless name be mine ?
cimens of silk weaving ever executed,
iras exhibited at Mr. Morrison's late Should both fame mid fortune bless me
Com t-iauzioue given to the members
V\ ith the jo, s that brightest be, Lra
of the Iustitute of British Architects. Thy flmnght, my home,s!i!ill still possess,
It was a portrait of Jacqnartl, repre
I'll piize Uo in most for love of thee.
senting that extraordinary man in his For thee alike wild sweet emotion,
workshop, surrounded by his imple
I'll snatch their gal lands I torn my brow;,
ments, and planning the* construction And bear tin in hack, withloie'sdi, yotiou.
of that beautiful machinery, which
To that dear home, I purl from now:
now, in its increased perfection, re Come, then, hour of hope and pleasure,
turns this testimony to the genius of
Come, auspicious morning beam,
its inventor. This work, worthily en
titled, " Itommaije n .J. M. .farqiihnrri," And with the joys of home and leisure,
Wcss my '\ pulh's enthusiast dream.
was woven with such truth anil ill licacy, as to resemble a line line-en
Athene um*

E U R A T A.

# VII.
1 I.
Jfo.

uo
(Kl

I'age 280, line 4, for " they go the Astrologer" read " thexi go to the AsltxJoger"
"
"
" 28, fur " intended, Cor the 'mother" (cad "intended for the lather"
"
282, " 7&8 before "brother's daughter ;" "sister's ifnvghtcr ;" anal
"brother's son's wife ;" supply the word ' Jollier's."
f*
"

9, for " Me son lliliiades" reuil the son of Miltiadcs."

358

DIARY KEPT IN THE VALE OF DOOM B ERA NEAR KANDY.

184J, From 15fA February to 22rf. Cloudy skies every day, and strong winds
from Ihe North East, with inly two or three slight shovel's during the week and
these were accompanied with heavy thunder and lightningVery little dew
at night.
Thermometer Average.- 71 6. A. M. 77 2. P. M. 75 8. p. M,
From February 22rf to March Is/. Generally calm this week, with a close
hot feeling in the atmosphere much thunder and lightning every evening,
accompanied with only very slight rains once or twiceThe mornings fine
and middle of the day bright and hot.
Thermometer Average.-74
dew every night.

6. a. m. 80 2. p. m. 78 8. p.m. Moderate

Operation'. These continued the same as last month, on the Coffee plan
tations, hut oij the Sugar Estate this dry season is the period when the canes
ripen most effectually, and consequently' is a busy lime in taking nff the crop
and manufacturing Sugar The slight rains we have experienced have already
brought out a partial bloisont on the loffee tree;
....'.
From March l.</ to the bM. In the commencement of this week the morn
ings were misty and calm, and rain in moderate 'quantities' fell the two first
evenings afterwards the days became hot and dry.
Generally moderate breezes from N. E. but when this fails the atmosphere
is hot and sultry.
' Thermometer Average.72 to 74 c 6. a. M. 79 to 83 2.,p. if . and
77 ' 8. p. M. generally.
The blossom on the Coffee trees has hurst out pretty generally within the
last day or two, but there has been too little rain, and the season is yet too
soon on this side of the country to have a lull flowering.
From March 8th to 15/A. Continued dry and hot days, during this period'
with bright clear skies mostly, but sometime suddenly getting cloudy about
4. P. M.

No rain Breeze as usual from N. E. Dew every night in moderate quan

tities which is regulated by the greater or lesser state of calmness in the
atmosphere.
'
Thermometer Average.li 6. a. m. 81 2. p. u. 77 8. p. .
The petals of the blossom that came out on the trees last week, have all
died 'off, without any more shew more rain is required belorea general flowering;
can take place especially on the other trees which have borne Ihe past year's
crop.
Operation* Continue the same Keeping the plantations clear of weeds
for which the present is a good season, as the hot son quickly destroys them
On newly formed estates, clearing the ground as usual, erecting buildings and
works, tracing roads, Sic, as thet may require, for all which the present dry
season is generally chosen, as the planter can now best spare his people for
these purposes.

COLOMBO:
PRINTED AT THE HEBALD PHE8S.

erte

CEYLON MAGAZINE.
No- IX.

May,

1841.

Vol. I.

OUR MONTHLY GOSSIP.

By the journals which the last mails from England put as in

possession, we perceive that the,re was a more than wonted activity
in the literary circles of the " Great Metropolis.' ' The silence which
had reigned in " the Row" during the preceding six or seven
months seems to have been exchanged for " righte merrie" sounds
of bustling business. The litnary hemisphere is illumined by the
simultaneous appearance of stars of various magnitude from " Quarto's"
to "Thirty-two's;"from Father Prout to Tommy Hood ;from
"The History of Europe" in 10 vols., down to "The History of
Little Fanny" in one. The advertising columns of the weeklies
present a goodly array of notable names and join in one general
chorus of
" Fresh fish from Helicon !who'll buy !who'll buy ?"
In good truth it must be a dainty palate that cannot make a
meal from the rare Christmas fare presented to us.
There are first of all the " Annuals," a species of butterfly-hondoir-literature, which, however trivial in themselves, have never
theless " done the state some service." These little serving-men
| Parnassus, in theii liveries 0/ green gold and scarlet, have uabr

[ o i
trri ia assay a vowr*; artist (hash ersraren and painters) to toe
tmAkx of the world abo aright rise bare gone oa ctrngnfisf in
Wnrity. They h*ve also been ibe DOM of rewarding tbe ta
lents of oer Don eminent engravers in a way which no otbri poaBtationa m!d bare dene.Tbe Animals for I&4I, are, if we ssar
believe tbe London critics, in no ays inferior to those of last year,
either in an aiti^tk-al or literary point of tie*, and that is. saving
not a Kale for them.
In standard liierauiTe there are some novelties announced, amongst
wbrcb we fird a> new edition of SaifTs works with a Life by
Ko*coe ; a new edition of Pilkinzton's Dictionary of Painters, un
der lite auspice) of Allen Cunningham ; a fresh issue of tbe Penny
Magazine on a nvre convenient scale and on better paper. Cap
tains Mam-all and Basil flail bare each prodnced a work of a
miscellaneous nature, the former oi;e entitled " 011a Podrida," tbe
latter " Patchwork," tbey appear not to have created any great
sensation. Some account of Sly Cousin Nicholas, by Ingoldsly ;
Gonipton Audley, by Lord William Lennox ; Greville, or a Sea
son at Paris, by Mis. Gore; The Monied Man, or the Lesson of
a Life, by Horace Smith ; Narrative of a tbree month's march
in India. The Princess Royal, a Satire, Satan in l.ove, a Poem
ami a host of others which, as thai great Orotor George Robins
would say, are too numerous Tor insertion; all these have issued
from the Press within a few weeks : Amongst ilu.ni is a small
volume of " Poems," by Lady Flora Hastings, which, however in
teresting and unexceptionable in themselves (and are told that
they are " marked by a tone ol fervent, yet cheerful piety,") had
butter, we think, never have been published under all the circum
stance of her case.
Among the many literary novelties at . borne, we must notice a
Journul devoted to Indian nfliiiis, besiring the title of the" British
Indian Advocate," tbe fiist number of which made its appearand
with the new year. We shall he glad to receive a copy of it.
The only Theatrical novelty of impoi lance is Bolwer's Play of
"Money" which, it would seem, is drawing plenty of that commo
dity to the treasury of the liny market. The London journals speak in
vary high terms ol the Pautomimes produced ibis year, some of

361

which appear *.n have been gut up with grent splendour and witb
- more than usual mechanical skill in the tricks. We regret having
to record another failure unending the efforts of the supporters of.
-our National Opera. After a sltort and unsatisfactory concern the
company of the Frinoes' Theatre have terminated their performances.
" Master Humphrey's Clock" continues to be wound up every
week in the Strand, with great punctuality, and has just struck
*' sixty." The opinion which we formed of this work, upon the
perusal of tle first few chapters, has certainly been borne out by
the succeeding portion of it. Boa is evidently " making a book"
rather than writing a work : laboring for himself more than the
public ; and the artist, when he engraved the ornamental wrapper
to the work, seems to have had some prophetic warnings, for he has
made the hands ol the clock point towards " Number One." We
do nut question the right of Bo/ to make as much as he can by
Lis pen, but as readers we grumble at having a work of genius
(for such it is alter all,) diluted with wearying puerilities to about
six times its proper hulk. We dislike the style, the incidents, and
with some exceptions, the character of " Master Humphrey's Clock :"
lis harsh, rusty clickiugs sound in unnatural contrast with the merry
chimes of the J'ickwick and NickUby hours.
In the Eastern world literature is not altogether neglected, one
of the hest sjjjns of which is the publication of numerous journals
and magazines for the special instruction of the natives of India,
some of them, too, conducted by Asiatics, Half a dozen such bave
been started witfiiu as man) months ; and in out own little island
we have seen th.ree rising and prospering. A fourth is to appear
t,his month- But where is the "Ceylon Review?" Tbe "Jdesof
March" are pa.ss.ed: the deed icmahis undone. Are we to have no
Big Brother ? Is Lanka to possess no Quarterly clad in Buff or
Blue f We recollect seeing a fair proportion ol names on the
subscription list, as many we opine, as we started with. Doubtless
its obstacles are of a literary natuie. We know from experience
the dilliculty of collecting origiuul matter in a small society.
If we have not the " Review'' however, we have the "Ceylon
Almanac," a veiy useful publication which has appeared with its
accustomed contents and regularity. While admitting its utility, we

862

trould also Suggest thero are several things wanting in it. A

Chronological Table, a sort of " Tablet o( Memory" ol the differ,
ent events connected with our Island the Cinghalese weights and
measures converted into British, and an account of the land dis
posed of by Government, are among the information we in vain
look forin the Almanac.
The Geography and Statistics of Asia by " Wnjor Jervis" will
fill up a great void in the history of our Eastern possessions.
From the Prospectus it promises to be a most valuulic acquisition
to Colonial literature. We fully concur with the Projector in the
great want ot sound statistical information relative to our Colonies :
the little that has been written about them is either by etisual ob
servers or by parties at a distance, who are unable to judge of
the real character of their information. If the absence ol statistical
data be felt any where, it surely must in Ceylon, of which perhaps
less is known than of any of the British possessions. W e believe
however, that we niay say a work nj on this Island, of a some*
what similar nature to the ulove, is alicudy ui.dti consideration.

70 A LADY ON TEE BIRTH CF HER FIRST EORN.

It is a glad and joyous time, when first the snowy blow

Is flushed as gentle lips lespolid, the deep impassioned vow,
\\ hen sparkling *yes are beaming lorth, the glances soil and sweet
And guileless hearts and youthlul lips, in thrilling union meet.
It is a glad and joyous time when ripen 'd love is felt
And deep and burning whisperings in broken murmurs melt,
Y\ hen all ot life and all of hope on one great cast is thrown
And years of blight unshaded bliss, seem centred in u lone.
It is a glad and joyous time, when at the Altar side
The lover breathes the holy vows, and claims the blushing bride,
\N hen lancy soars on lightsome wing and paints the future bright
As glowing Summer's meadows fair, instinct with life and light.
B(ut purer joy than pen may trace, or words alone may speak
1 lie mother let-is n lien first her lip, is on her Infant's cheek,
When first she marks the playful smiles that dwell in dimples there
And oilers up with throbbing heait, a moihci's fervent prayer.

963

Obi seet rrinst be a mother's task, to watch each opening grace

The almost imperceptible, jet certain growth to Hate ;
W hen all is peace and innocence, mid moments lightly roll
And gems bedeck the infant mind, the sunlight of the soul.
Let anguish rend the aching heart, let passion scorch the brain
And long and lingering years drag out, their weary length of pain;
Though love be frail and friendship false, and pleasure change to gall
A mother's deep undying love, still triumphs over all.
Be thine the blest and happy lot, thy gentle child to iear,
And see thy love still more repaid, in each succeeding yeai,
And as thou gazest back upon, lile's bright and sunny plain
Ne'ei teel the grating memory of one un banished pain.
2L

A TRIP TO MATURA
Wume Antiquities Customs and manners Religion Animals,
birds, fish, insects, serpents Face of the Country, soil, agriculture
Commerce, (Jural stones, tyc. Cliuiale, Monsoons.
There are but lew things worthy the observation of the traveller
from the Town of Colombo up to the extensive Cinnamon gardens
of Morottoo, Leaving Galie-lace, and passing through Oolpeliy,
Wellawaue, Mount Lavinia, Pantura, i.alinro, Beiitotie and (ialle,
amidst the Cocoa groves and breadfruit trees which surround every
village, hnmlet and dwelling.house, we come to Malum, a beautiful
and healthy, but a scantily peopled district. At the distance of tour
null's liom Mature is Dondera Head, oi, as it is generally culled,
Dehundere.
1. Dondera Head, the Southern Cape of Ceylon, like njanv other
tlaces in this Island, is known by several names. The Knglish call
p Dondera Head or Cape Dondera. Detamdere or Dehundere
(the Island's end) is the name by which this place is known amongst
the natives. In the Sampotte which is the only spelling book ex
tant among the Singhalese, it is called Dewi-nuwere (tbe (Jodty
city ^ either from the circumstance of its having once biui the a at
or Kaluiia Datusxa's government; a prince to all intents and tmr-
poses (who reigned about A. D, 646) hut one io whom divine
perfections are attributed by the natives, or from the existence offi
beautiful temple dedicated to Derol Cod.
2. The most remarkable of the antiquities still extant at Dondra
Head, is a beautiful temple ot Buddha. The next in importance are
a few slabs of marble, which have on them inscriptions in characters
v bit b are now almost unknown. At the distance of a few yards
from die Buddhist temple, are the remains of a very huge build
ing. Upwards ol 300 pillars and a door, neatly inaue of maible,

364

stand on the spot. "That is a miracle of our God." said one of

the unlives, pointing out to the door above mentioned. 1 asked hint
liowf lie could call il a miracle ? To which he replied : " the tre
mendous slot), of marble, which is laid over the two door-posts, is not
in any wiw fixed to them, and as long as we believe on our God
11 wiH uot come down!!" Why, 1 don't bel civ e on your God, and
will it therefore come upou niv head?" asked \, " were I to cross its.
thrush-hold?" My friend uttered uot a single word in reply. 1 thence
Went and examined the door-post*, and the slab which stem! upon
them.. Thev were exquisitely well made. " Captain Forbes" domonstru,ted '< that the Singhalese a few centuries ago had list d the.
Wedge and the chisel lor splitting and shaping those huge blocks of
marbles, alt?)' the manner introduced into Britain iu the nineteenth
Century." This ' demonstration' will fully be borne out by a careful
observation of the numerous monuments still visible on the south*
west of Ceylon, not to mention south-east.* Besides tin |!lurs
and the door u>eniiipcd above, ihctje is a small temple (dedicated
to Demi God), made wholly of. marble. It is very neatly made.
It is shaded with trees, the floor is covered with weeds; and at
present it is tin} abode of serpents. The temple of Buddha hits
lately been repaired ac the expense of the Buddhists. It is a beau
tiful but dark building. A lamp is constantly horning in this
temple, 'the image; of Buddha, which is 27 feel in length, is made
in a si" ping posture. The only commodious and substantial build
ing of the natives, is a Bungalow of the Dondiu Mpdliar.
3> The manners of the intelligent portion of the community are
gentle and mild; but those of the less, informed are more easilyconceived than expiesscd ; lor there is a striking similarity between
idl s,enn-l>a-.;i)arous nations. One ol the principal lenlurrs in the
character of the natives is, their " extreme apathy." The people
who live about the country ate still barbarous. Most of ihem are
wretchedly poor, astonishingly igno'atit, and grossly superstitious.
They are destitute of lnutij- feeling are habitual drunkards and:
gamblers ; and notorious robbers. Many of them ave neither
Buddhists not Christians; and are quite indifferent about their Sal-,
valiou. I hey would, often boldly say "What care we of Hell or
Heaven ? If we are to go to Hell, we will; lor Hell t,oo must
have some one in it," boine ol the people about the uHocjWfere
so stupid, that often in a court ot justice upon being atiRcd the
day on wlticli a certain occurrence took place, "Ihey have replied
"we don't know." H an ignorant native be asked 'what was the.
distance from such an object to such a place ?' he would say
* In the District of H'cHitrammr aboul 20 miles mith of Oalle, is a
statue, of an ancient Kiiiu excavated fruni the shle of a huge n.nss of
juarble. It is about 10 feet high, anil looks very beautiful. It is. .mini
JCuttimje-galle (the statue of the leprous Kinu,) very probably from the cir.
cumstaucti of its having some eruptions on its feel. The natives who tako
a journey through Welligamnie, we so foolish as uoW-auU-lucu to uitur
money, rice, &c, to this statue.

365

.'? don't know:' but if he be asked ' will it be ns distant from,

A ns B. is from the witness box?'be will most assuredly re*
ply in the affirmative.
Matura is the parent cnnnity (of Ceylon) for superstitions.
iiorn-pullihff, Breaiing-of-Voconnvts, Devil-dance ceiemonies and
various others often take place. In point of learning tie intelli"pent portioVi of lite community at Matura greatly surpasses that at
Colombo. Hence the Singhalese adage " happy is the roan that
is born at Caliura* and is educated at Manila."
There is a fisherman at Mntnfa who is remarkably tall and
propiVrlionably largewhose height is about 7 feet, lie is celled
yoileya (giant) by the inhabitants of Matura. 1 saw this man,
and I confess I was quite surprised at bis prodigious height.
The following are some ol the answers to the questions I put to
him. " I am a fisherman and am obliged to go a fishing for
my maintenanceI seldom or never take any other person with
me I can very easily land my boat as well ns take it to sea
without assistance t once boxed a man, by which he very much
differed I have nevei been mischievous* I earn rny daily bread by
my own persevering industry."
The amusement of the natives consist of religious processions
and devil-dance ceremonies; but though dancing girls (in fact
males in disguise called T/mooditchis) abound, yet Theatrical ex
hibitions are uncommon. The only Theatrical exhibition is what
the natives call Kvtan. The play is every -where and always the
same. Every actor has his head covered with an an. filial face,
made of wood nnd beautifully painted. A tragic pantomime is of
ten introduced in the middle of the play. This play is often acted
in Colombo generally about the Christmas holy-days. '
4. The professed religion is Buddhism ; but the devils f are
worshipped by all except the intelligent native Buddhists. Devildance is very common at Dondra Head, as well as in Matura.
There Is hardly a single day in which the hoistfous c'umourg ol
the tom-toms are not sounded in the hamlets around the town
of Matura. Knpoowa, YnkrnJoorii and Nekelia are daily employ
ed in this district. Devil-worship is strictly lotbidden in (he Buddliislioal Religion : but the superstitious natives often resort tp a
devil-dfthcc ceremony when a person is so dangerously ill, as to
lead his friends to believe that it is in vain to expect any medi
cal assistance. There arc very few Christians indeed nay, from
Caliura Is considered to be a very healthy place.
+ In the native mind three monniURs are associated at the remembrance
of the word "God" I. A dtrio ((inn) is a person, who is borne on of the
36 HeaTens. 2. A tlrrrlam, is a Divine Hems (in dignity inferior to a derio
but superior to a devil.) 3. A l/attun/ii or r<iltsn/ti or ynka is what in under;
no. id by a devil, or' "the evil oue" or " Satan j" who, it is said by the
atives, feeds on human flesh.

,[ 368 J
what T beard and saw a year ago, there were not twenty natives,
who knew of h Siivioiir, still less who conscientiously believed 'in
the " true and only God." Strenuous as has been the Missionary
endeavours for the conversion of the heathen, very little has hi
therto been done in Ma;ura or Dondra. The reason is this:
" Because the people are too wise in their own conceit."
5. Cattle in the district of Matin a are numerous, and are of
ten used to convey coffee, deer-horns*, pepper, and various other
articles from the country. Tbey are nuie frequently used to lha
plough, and those of Matura are the cheapest in Ceylon. The
d"L's are of the cut kind, known by the appellation ol paria dogs.
The other animali are wild boars, jackals,, chetabs, weasels, and
mauv others of an inferior size. Wild peacocks are found in plenty.
Among the. birds mny be mentioned " the lar-faraed bird of Pfc.
rndise," "the jet-b'aek cuckoo," "the splendid azure-coloured king
fisher," "the glossy mapie," "the owl," " ihe panot, " and
" the common ctow"together with several others too numerous to
mention. The nests of the paddy -birds are singularly beautiful ;
and are olten found hanging on the twi^s of ware trees near
fields. At the lime ol harvest, these " leafy homes" are lo>ind in
abundance. I observed a lew at Dondra Head, and while I view
ed Uitui I could not but exclaim in the words of the Poet,
-It win* fflv admiration
To view the structure of that little work
A bird'* netitmark it well within, without:
No i. i.l had he that wrought ; no knife to cut;
Ko nail to fix ; no bodkin to insert;
No glue to join : his beak was all ;
And yet how neatly finished ' what nice hand,
W ith every implement and means of art,
And twenty years' premiership to boot
Could make such another ? Fondly then
We boast of excellence whose noblest skill
Instinctive genius fails.
Thomson.

Land tortoises, and sea turtles abound ; and are eaten by the natives.
C/Tabs,^ lobsters, and oysters plenty. There are beautiful butterflies
and insects ol various kinds. A peculiar kind 'of gold coloured
insect is found in abundance at Dondra Head, parttciirarry amidst
(he brilliantly green foliage of Kosette trees. A - minute description
of the serpents found in the Matura district will not be uninterest
ing. The Pimhoorak, wbich is the largest of the serpents, is as
thick as. a man's thigh, and of a proportioivahle length. It has a
terrible aspect. The forehead is covered with grey and ash-coloured
Those of the Raigam Oya, s few miles frem Galle, are too best in Vstf
island.

367

scales; The scales on the upper part of the body are somewhat
freddish, and are slinded with spots of dark brown. The tail is
slender. Underneath, towards the belly, are large spots ol an ash
colour, and disposed in a beautiful order. The 7 ic-Polotiga is a
beautiful, but mischievous serpent. Its head is adorned with spots
which resemble a wild flower of Ceylon called Baville. The whole
body is of a liver colour, and diversified with beautiful spots. Its
tail diminishes gradually to a point. The Pulonja is of the same
kind as Tic-Poionga, but less beautiful. The Cobra de Capell*
of the Portuguese (the hooded -snake,) is said to be very innocent,
end is admitted into the houses of the natives. They seldom or
never kill it, unless some person is bitten. The upper part of the
body is generally of a dark red, and some white streaks run across
it Its belly is of a pale red. The forehead is marked with two
spots in the slnpe of a pair of spectacles. It lives upon insects
out! frogs. Kniifh'ilomt'ii is a poisonous serpent ; of about a foot
in length. It is of a dark brown. K'irewlla is n beautiful serpent,
about the thickness of a man's thumb and about two and half feet
in length. It is less poisonous than any above mentioned. Its
colour is brown ; but the body is diversified with spots inclining
to a light red. Gartndia is an innocent and harmless creature.
It is as thick as a man's wrist; and proportionably 'long. The
tippet part of its body is of a dark brown and the belly yellow.
It is often met with in the houses and gardens of the natives ; who
neither drive it off, nor kill it because they are fond of meeting
it whenever they go a journey, or go out of their houses. To
meet one of these, is a good omen to the superstitious natives. It
is frequently found in the roofs of native cottages and granaries in
quest of prey, which generally consists of rats and Inice. Allho* the
bile of some of these serpents mentioned above, is followed with
serious consequences, yet it is very seldom that people are bitten.
It is generally believed that the decoctions of the native medical
men are better antidotes against poison than those of the English
Doctors.
6. The conntry if healthy and abounds in various sorts of frnits
and trees. The rrtost complete assemblage of beautiful objects (in
point of scenery) which can any where be found presents itself at
Matura. Fields in Verdure trees Mattered here aim thereflowers
both gaudy and fragrant streams beautiful and small;contribute
ercatly to enrich the landscape. The soil in itself may be said to
be barren ; but prolific showers conspire with labour to overcome
this obstacle. Except the hilly parts, the ground is universally cul
tivated. Rice is the chief grain. The sweet potato is abundant;
with various sorts of yams, beans, find dry giain. Coffee grows
luxuriantly under shade. The soil is the best adapted for the
Sugar-cane and Nutmeg. The pepper-vine grows nearly in a state
of wildness. The soil is in some parts so excellent as to consist
of black vegetable mould to the depth of two or three feet.
W 2

t 368 1
7". Tn a commercial point Of view' the district ofMatura is vtrj
favourable. Arrack is distilled all the way along the load I'rnm
Pantur.a to Dondra Head Coir rope, yarn and jtinlt are manufac
tured both at Galle and Matura. Deer-horns are generally collected
in .small quantities by the moors; who often exchange tliehi for
cloth, tobacco, &c. IVlatura jaggery is the bestthat of Kandy ex>
ceplrd. Plumbago and Sapan wood are also to be inet with -Coral
stones are abundant ; and are now becoming saleable. These Mimes
are burnt into lime. " Of this species of lime the late tort of
KfKapatam was built ; and so great is the hardness which' it ac
quires by long exposure to the weather, that When Major* De Havilaud, some years ago, requested a specimen of the masonry erf
the fort to he procured and sent up lo him, the iron crows and
other instruments used in detaching the blocks, were b'nnted and
bent in all directions by the solidity of the chnnam, which is fat
more adhesive than that obtained from shells, A stone capable of
icing converted into so valuable a cement, would almost pay the
expense of its excavation."* The following Is a, statement of the
quantity of stones purchased by Government during toe last two
years; and contracted for in the present year:
> . ..(:;
For 1839. Bushels 100,000 <g 2{d. P Bushel,.. 1041 13s. -id.
1840.
Do.
25,000 @ 2fd. p Bushel,..
247 7s. lit}.
1841.
Do.
30,000 2,3d. p- Bushel...
273 8s. lid.

155,000f
1562 10. 2.
Boxes and baskets made of Porcupine qnills may be had at Matura.
They are very handsomely mude ; and those made of a superior
quality are often sold for three or four pounds each. This cmiom
workmanship was tirst planned by Mrs. Bafnetl the lady of tbc
late (iovci tiiiieiit Agent for the Southern Province.
8. The climate of Matura is various. Excessive rains and ex
cessive heals form the chief varieties of the year. The country is
generally healthy. The hot or dry senson begins about March and
continues till May or June; the rainy season continues From June
to September or October ; and the cold from November to .tannery.
All the coast of Unite and Malum, participates of the south-west
liiiiiiMHins that blows upon the Malabar coast.The south-west
that blows from April till September, and is favourable to
vessels going Iron) (.'ape Comtuin to Manaar, or the Coast
of Ceylon near itrenders it impracticable to proceed thence lo
Dondra Head. The north-east that prevails from October to Fe-

.... V R. M. Martin's Briliih I'owmM LUmny. p 31. C'ejlon.

,;\

f All these stones have been aud are being brought from the Matura district, bj
means uf Dhomes.

369

brtiarv would facilitate the passage of vessels from Manaar and Don*
g"ra Mead; but there they must wait again lor ihe south-west
before they can proceed to Ttiucooialie, Point Pedro, aud the (Jo-omaudel Coast.
A.

TffE ORGANS OF THE BRAIN.

A COMSPY IN THREE ACTS, TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN*
OF AUGUST VO,\ K.aTfcKIJUE.
[Couliuued from page 340.]

ACT 3dSCENE lax,

MR. VoN RuYKI-.XMAKK (AlONKj

When will Winded mortals learn to know and prize their be*
elactot's ! Wlieu Colombus conjectured ike existence of a new
World, he was. ciiied down for a iool in the old. The tirst astioiiouier wh.o discovered the revolution of the earth was punished lor
heresy. The philosopher who pointed out a path lor the hghluing
was called u transgressor against I'lovidettce. '1 be physician who first
Vaccinated was accused oi connecting men uith caltie. Evety one
' points alter something new, and when it conies to pass he pours
abuse upon it. Is it not, a crying injustice to make me pay 50
dollars because I said a thoroughpaced scouudiel was. a. scoundrel ?
The whole police cannot produce a single member of Us body who
U able to examine u skull properly. The Whole police tberelora
is good lor nothing- I'll luy any wager that in the course of
100 years every government oilierr will be obliged to study cranio*
logy thoroughly ; and the police probably will then consist of
nothing but women, because their lingers are endowed uith a litter
touch Then shall 1 also, though late, meet with justice ; every
<body will read in the journals., Disgrace to human nature! one
buudred years ago Mr. Von Ruckeumurk, so celebrated for bis
collection ot skulls, was fined 60 dollars because he Would not lakt
a thief lor his valet de cbambre.

Scene 2nd.
The Preckedikg and Peter Goodsheep.
Pet. {Somewhat drunk) I am to tell yourhouor that the bu
siness is correctly settled.

370

Riick.I am glnd to hear it : But it appears to we, my good

fellow, that you have been doing lather too much good.
Pel.No man can do loo much pod : much good i* always
belter than little;and if the wine is good, consequently much nine
is also good And I can most humbly asMire your honor that the
wine was good The host is an honest fellow with a brandy-red
nose, and when 1 told him that jour honor had desired me to
drink a bottle of wine at his house, be said that he knew you well
that you were a stupid owl.
Riick. That will do, (tfsidt) strange that geniuses guzzle so 1
(loud) where is Kulzrabe ?
Pet. Oh, he must now be far from here.
Riick. Far ? how so ?
Pet,Yes, look yon ; as we loitered up to the street together,
he said it would be just the same thing whether we drank the
bottle of wine before or aliernards. That was reasoning rationally,
very rationally, and whenever a pcrsou lays a thing before me ra
tionally, 1 can never repulse hitn. " Po yon see tbe (ioldrn Fox
tlide," said he, " I see it comrade," said 1, and I reallv Hid see it.
-7-" Let 11s go in," said he " why should we not," said 1 " We
will go in," said he"Very well" said 1, So we went into the
Golden Fox and drank "The wine is good" said he, "Excellent"
said I." Long live our host" said he. " Huzza" said 1.
' Riick.Well, further ! further !
Tel.Yes, as we drank further and further, and my comrade,
Mr. Katzrabc, ordered a |H>stT<.'baise.-~-
Riick.A |>ost-chai*e ? what for ?
P<." What for my comrade" said I. " I must make a short
journey" said he" Will 't thou not pay the money first," said I,
Your honor will remark we hud diauk brotherhood to each other,
therefore 1 said " Thou."
Riick.I sit upon thorns ! Well, what did he answer?
P*/.He answered, " My comrade I will not pay the money."
"Why not?" said 1. "1 would rather keep it" said he. "There
you do quite right " said I ; he then fell upon my neck and took
a very affecting leave of me. 1 could almost cry now when I
thiuk of it.
Riick. And he really drove off?
Pet." Adieu, my dear Lrother," sobbed he. " God preserve
ihee my dear brother" sobbed I. " Give my best respects to bis"
honor" sobbed he. "That I'll certainly do" sobbed I. With that
he entered the carriage, the postillion cracked his whip and gee up>
gee up ! they drove out ol the gate.
Riick. With my money ?
Vet.Yes, be has taken great care of that.

3"71

Hilck. Did I not tell yon to be present when it was paid ?

Pel. Certainly. But he did not pay it, so I could not be pre
sent. Hey ?
Ri'ir/-.There we have it. Even the greatest geniuses play fool
ish tricks when tliey are much drunk How was it ]>ossible, my
good fellow, (hat you could sin so against your magnificent skull
what shall I do now ? I must have the lellow pursued.
Pet. Send only my couriers boots after him, yeur honor.
Riick.Certainly, they at least are not drunk.
Pet.No, they are quite sober as yet.
/
Mick.J must have warrants got ready.
''
\
^_
.

.'

SCENE 3rd.

The precekpjng asd Caroline.

* Car. {Having overheard the last words) Warrants t what for?
Mick. Only imagine, Mr. Yon Hellsiern, my most faithful
servant, the best ualured crt attire in the world, who is as Hut
behind l|ie ears its under the sole oi bis foot, bus run away
with my ?l)00 Louis-d'ors.
Car. Just what I expected. Ypu would not listen to .my
warning.
' Mick. Did I nol do what you desired? Did I not send that
Mining fellow there with him f
Car. That ass !
f
. " ., !
Mick. He certainly is an ass now because he is drunk; what
would you advjse me to do ? The bond is due this day, and old
Bombeck blight play me most disu^rerable tricks.
Car. Perhaps his son niijjil arrange the matter, if, out of
regard to you, I determine to make over to hi in all my preten
sions to your daughter's hand.
Mick.Never 1 Nothing shall induce me to give my daughter
tQ a man without au organ ul music ; I'd rather let things cuuie
to an extremity.
Car. Well, send warrants then.
Mick. Immediately. Biit when I think over the affair, the
first alarm quite contused me who knows whether there is a word
of truth in the whole Hon ? My honest Kalzrabe, 1 uni sure,
has only been ploying this (imuknrd a tuck. Belore we can look
about us, he will he hue a^uiij and laiifji him out of countenance.
Yes, yes, that will he it. 1 was a tool to annoy myself ahout
it. It is not possible that a man with such a skull could have
robbed me !
-.'_:.

r 7 r
Car.1 would advise nosrever!at ail events
Rik-t. No, no, the warrants would only blast tbe poor follow"*
reputation. He will certainly come back in tbe course of tbe day
and brin;; with bim tbe bond redeemed. At tbe most I will my
self gn and enquire at tbe Gulden Fox about the matter will) your
pet mission Mr. Yon Helklem, I make no ceremony with, you J
I consider you already as my son-in-law. The Golden Fox is nut
far, I shall soon be hack again.
Prt. Zouuds * he is going to the Golden Fox also ? Well, there;
is plenty to drink there and good too. If my knowledge would
permit me, I should like to. go there a Hide while too.
Cor. Go to the deuce !
Vet. {sliiggtrR off) Well? why should; I not? I only wonder
that the deuce is not choked with, ibitst yet.
Car. (alone.) This tragi-eonaic accident has really happened
just at the night lime for me. What f have not been able to.
effect with tbe old gentleman, my money shall. He wants and I
have.
SCENE 4th.
Caroline and Edwakd.
Ed.What, lost in thought, dear Caroline ?
Car.I am considering how I shall get id of 2000 Louis-d'or*
in a proper manner.
Ed.Squandering creature!
Car. Oh, 1 have squandered much more precious thingsmjr
freedom lor instance.
Ed.Do the chains oppress you ?
Car. VV by, no ; they do not exactly oppress me, but they
pinch a Utile sometimes. But jesting apart, the organs of the brain
Lave played your father a precious trick.
Ed. I know. He bus bud a fine of .00 dollars to pay.
Cor.Oh, be will not get oil so cheaply this time! He seat
his fuitlil nt Katzrabe to old Homheck to redeem a bond, and ihe
scoundrel lias run oil with the money.
Ed. Is it possible ? be must be pursued.
Cor. .Your father won't bear of it and in truth it would <lis
please me if they were to catch him. for it would rob me oi the
pleasure ol helping tbe old gentleman out of a diihcuhyEd. What? you are going
Car. To win his favour, for which purpose I shall spare mj
money as little as my wit.

r 9 i

....

'JM. ft'n\ do yon know tliat my father has almost made himself
i K'^av bv his strau :< fancies.
Car.What matters that to me ?
Ed.You risk your money. Who Can repay it you ?
Car.You.
Ed.-l ?
Car.Yes, yoii, my lord arid master, if you- will love me as
much in the autumn of my life as you now do in its spring. Jns{
s much ; no, that were tn require loo much from a frail man go
always kindly band-in-rinnd with me, even though yon do not
(always took on me as tenderly as you no* do. Pluck with me
the flowers along our path, but nevrt Without me the dowels be
tide it. Do not be directly peevish if it sometimes rains or free
zes bi snows ) for on a long journey one rannot always have gno4
weatherabove all then shall I never regret the sacrifice for which
love gave me the courage and the inclination.
E>h -My Caroline !
Crtr. tn truth love make no sacrifieey it gives only ; for a sa
crifice presupposes a kind of struggleTrue love never hesitates be
tween two resolutions, it can only do what it (foes, and it never
therefore assumes merit ; the only reward it aims at, is to be ac
knowledged.
Ed. {At het feel) My adored Caroline !
Car. Stop, stopsuppose any one were to surprize )'ou l &
feet of a man.

SCENE 5th.
y

TltK

PKHCKED1NQ AND F.MILT.

Car.There we have it !
Em. What do I see ? Brother ! are yon kneeling before your friend ?
Car.Now you may see Miss Von Kiickenmark, mv rharms
work not only upon your sex. The fellow pays me his court just
as if I were a lady.
Em.That is really very droll.
Car.Perhaps yon are a little jealous ?
Em.To piove the contrary to your satisfaction, I hereby solemn*
Ijf resign all my rights \o my brother.
Ed. I accept them.
Fm. As often as you thought to lit at my iett, so often may
he kneel to you.
Car.I accept it.
(

374

Em. Bestow npon him nil the blessings which you were pleas
ed m promise in the marriage state.
Ed. I accept thorn.
Em. Only leave me in place, and have the goodness to look
pon me only as your sister.
Car.I accept it.
Em. Your are both unbearable with yonr " I accept," T beg,
otother. What is the meaning of. that malicious shiile with which
you have so often favored me to-day as if I were a silly child ?
Ed.In truth, my dear sister, you are incredibly childish, and
no one Would believe that vou bod been in love more than a year
You see uothing. You hear nothing. You understand nothing.
Em. I see, here and understand that your travels have mad*
you remarkably disagreeable.
Ed. You-dmi't understand, that. One requires a genteel onfidenre by travelling.
Em.--- Which sometimes appears like impudence.
Ed.One sees a great many things.
Em.And becomes indifferent to every thing.
Ed.- --One learns a great many things.
Em.In oidcr to make a figure with them.
Ed. One becomes quite at home in strange countries.
,jE^. And a stranger in one's Futheiland.
, Efl.: One becomes a citizen of the world.
Em.In order to forget one's family. He is a happy man
who in the bosom <>l his family misses nothing and at the utmost
travels twice a week through the Hamburgh paper.
fed.But, my dear sister, greater acuteness, and a greater power
of combining ideas you will never learn out of the Hamburgh
paper. Read a whole years file through from beginning to end,
nd you will still not understand how it will happen that this very
day you will press. this young man with affection to your heart.
Em.No, positivelyThere you nre quite right.
'Ed. I understand it however quite well.
Car. And I also.
Em.Oh of your vanity I have never entertained the slightest
doubt.
'
Ed. And if I utter one single word, you will do it immedi
ately on the spot.
Em. Spare yourself that one single word.
Erf. (embracet Caroline.) My wife,
fcr.My husband !

t S73 ]
Em.What is the meaning of this? '
E</ Did von reSlh ihcti consider your bro|h(-r so foolish as to
throw away his friendship upon a sian:p ? Did _\uu realty ima
gine tliut your brother would kneel be I ore any man, even if he
were ilie gro.it Mogul ? In It word, do you not guess that lira
Mr. Von 1 IcIisutii is your sister-in-law ?
Km. (joyfully surprised..) My sister-iu-'law ? your wife.?
. Ed. Yes, yes ; Bui do not scream sonobody knows it yet.
Em- Is it possible ?
Car. Now, Miss Von Riickenmark, I remind you ol your own.
Words. 1 am to look upon you only as my sister,.
-, '_
Em. (embraces Caroline.) My dear, loguish sister!
E</. D.d I not say, you would embrace this young man to-day'?
Vim. Oh ! with ail my heart ! (site embraces Caroline again.)

SCENE 6tb.
r

The precjsedinc and Mk. Von Bombeck.

'

Bom ft.Ha '. what is that ?

ErfBravo ! he is just come at the right time.
Bomb.f'an I believe my eyes? capital! yonng Lady whilst I
am coming to hazard my life for yom sake. You have alivady
resigned yourself to your fate.
Em. With christian resignation.
Bomb. }]* ! ha 1 ha ! That is the organ of constancy of which
you boasted so to-day !
Em. Who can help ftielr oYgant ?
',
Bomb.False, faithless creature !
. .
*
,

Em. Gently, gently, Mr. Von Bombeck. I am still ready to

be yours.
'.
Bomb.Indeed'?
:"
Em.But only upon the condition that yon accustom yourseli
to see this young man now and then in my arms.
Car.Yes, Sir, you must positively accustom yourself to that.
Bomb.And why not ? There's nothing easier in the world.
Ha! ha! ha! So ridicule into the bargain, my yonng Ladyii
.You, my voting gentleman, do not come off so cheaply 1 That I
must yield here, I thoroughly comprehend, teat tuM yon mmji
meet me, you, I hope also commehevd.^

&t

... ,

-- ...

Car:-"t am at your lifvice.

. Em. No.f I'ain'i let you out of my orms.
-. Car.You see--l cannot. .
.,4
Bomfi. Hell and tie devil ! Sir, you arc not a mac f hor.cr
You are a woman.
Car.That is very ' possible. '
. . .
Erf. And therefore she docs not fight.
bomb. You should wear pins instead of a sword, Car. Tbeie you are quite rj<jht. .
Fa*. She will do so 10-moiiow too.
Bomb.The poor girl is deceived in you.
, Car. I almost believe that m\ sc-1 1". . , , ,
.
Bomb. As for yon, my young lady, I prophecy that the in
toxication will six ii i pass off, and that you will then find a xnosi
insipid entertainment.
.
-.-.
Cr.You have hit the mark
Bowo.---Yon have not deserved it at my hands, bnt I will fret
you from this creature wearing the semblance of a man.
' Km. As.lt my brother fiin whether he wishes to be freed from

him.

Bomb.Come, come, young gentleman where is your swordV?'.

. Car.---! shall not go out with you until you hare retracted
til vout insults at my feet.
Bo)tb.-At your feel?
Car.Yes, yesat my feet.
, Bomb.'- Ha! This is too much! What restrains me still (he
lays hit hand on his stbord.)
,
.....,..:
- w.'t
Em. Ferdinand, Fttdinand, you will surely not murder my
brother's wife ?
Bomb.Yonr brother's wife ?
Car. At last he observes it.
.
.-.
Erf. Yes, dear Bombeck, my beloved wife. Our union is still
a secret from my father why, you can easily guess. Will you still
fce jealous?
Bom. Heavens ! I wake from a fearful dream.
%m.Am I still the false, the faithless one ?
Bomb.. My Emily? ,
> ..,..; ,....,
Erf.Do you observe now that we have all the same interests,
and that w must consequently hold together ?
Bomb. Deer Madamwil] yon forgive me? '.-!A-^":si

m. What did, I say ? at my feet-r*- .... .,., .; _. f ,..-'/

IJwnt.Ob., bow jriHing/ (A kaetU btfort Caroline.)
Em.Here we have it, be kneels before a pretty woman with
jtwi.giveaie&i .-pleasure -, t<
.,-,.-;:...
Car And I magnanimously raise him tip and embrace him, as
a sister,
Gin.Well, wehVbnt too long,'
Bomb.'--1 am enraptured /
Km.'Stii too much, U I may beg;your murderous intention*
are very rapidly vanished.
Bomb Hv dreadfully you tortured me ?
Car.And very properly so for a happy lover ought never to;
trust, kis oWi>-.-6Ye, even if he saw bis unstress ten times in the
grins of _ another,
* .'
Bomb.That opinion is, at least, convenient fen the ladies.
Cor. Hush, bush/ we must' now speak of more important afr
fairs. W* alii" find ourselves in similar distress, conswqtwntly we
must conclude an alliance oflensive and defensive upon the usual
condition that neither party makes peace without the other. Wa
may keep it afterwards as e please, lor allies remain laiihlul to
e^cb other only as long as they stand in need of one another,
Now then let us sketch' a plan of- operations at once. ()iir corif'ederaj.e: there . we all kno> is. not' lp obtain Emily's hand be
cause things are not in the best order outsii/e, whatever they may
be inside, ol his bead j lor the organ of Theosophy has made its
appearunce there.
iiamb That abominable organ .' I'll have it trepanned.
" '-"-''"
Car. Congratulate yourself, my dear sister ? An admirer who
will have himself tiepanned lot the love ol bis mistress is not' to
lie fotnid every day, although the operation is olteu necessary
enough. The question here, however, turns not only upon the
superabundance of Theosophy, but upon the deficiency ol the oigan
of music also.
Bo/mo.Tbere the ojd gmtlemsui i$ certainly in the right. I
have already' tortured myself in vain foi mote than half a year i.i)
]< a ruing to sing " lilouni beiuilcous violet." ,1 can make nothing
of it.
f '"''
Cor.What have you to do witb violets? Here Is the Rose
which shall bloom for you although you could not sing" even' -

.irsvi.;.-., sv*i i..^j(y0-ct^^A^n^y:^i^: ;.;----; ' \..s

Bomb.Alas '. that will be. difficult.. iuUctiriv'- As ing as ihc-oM

378

gentleman hod no money to pay his bond to my, foibrr- with,, so

Ji ng I iwuiished a hope. I Jin now, since I'.dnard bus brought l he
cu. ed coin
Cnr. The deuce has already mrde off with, the cursed coin, but
that wiH not bring us a whit nearer the niaik, lor he would ra
ther have his person seized than accept ol a son-in-law without
mi organ of music.
Bomb. Alas! then I am lost
Cnr. How happens it that love makes yon all so stupid ? Don't
you know (hat no man will ever sell bis Hobby-horse ? Everything
has its price, even Honor and Conscience, if well paid for, except
ing Hubliy-horse*. Foni<aiely, however, ihcy are wry willing
creatures. Only linisen the reins a little that tbey may prance
about to their hearts content and you may guide them whcie you
please?. So we men, uiy dear ally, will bold the reins with a
slack hand.
Tiomb. Hut how and where ?
Cur. So a woman must come fifty miles to lend a lord of the
creation an ounce of stratagem!! Is there no charnel house in
your Churchyard ?
Bomb.O yes.
Cnr.Do you know the Sexton ?
Bomb.O yes.
Car. We" thon do you he off to this worthy personage di
rectly, speak the universal language with him, that is to say, put
a couple of pieces of gold into his hand. Have half a dozen of.
Well preserved skulls consigned over to you. Pack them in a neat
box. Mike all sorts ol marks and letters on the box as ~ 1 1 - it had
come from Ciod knows where; bring it quickly here and leave the
re, a l>> me
Bomb. I begin to see liyht.
Cr.---At lasl'r1 The old gentleman has been pleased to select
tny insignificance lor his son- in-law. Hut, as you very correctly
remarked, this young lady would be deceived in uie, and us 1 do
Bot belong to the sex that is priviie.dged to deceive, so these six
skulls shall free you from a husband who (his or^uii ol music
excepted) would have but little to oiler. But I shall not forget my
self in the business. This creature heie, whom 1 have the misfor
tune to love in spile of all the organs in hicli he is deficient,
shall be publicly proclaimed as my husband. Wish! I think I
lienr the old gentleman! < Ml' with you, conii derate. Slip through
the buck door. Come back as (juickiy as possible, but don't lliiuk
of shewing yonrsell without the empty skulls Your own luad you
may leave lieie [pointing to Emily) in keeping.
Bomb. Ah.
with that,

It is long since she bus doue what she pleased

879

Car. She only avails herself of her innate rigbt.

V.m. M v dearest sister ! What it blessing it is that you have
uppcared u> save us. {Shi: embraces lurviitte.)

SCENE 7Th.
MR. VoV RiiCKKSMARK ASD THE PRKCKKDIKO.

Wilde. Bravo ! [ am delighted, Emily, that you have submitted

to my will so prettily.
Car.Oh, no one can withstand me.
Ri/oa. -But children, you see me in a most annoying posiiion.
Unfortunately all that Goodshcep reported is correct. I have been
to the Golden Fox my sell, and my luiihful Kal/rabe is really gone
off Irom thence with post hoises.- 1 have also spoken to old Bom
beck, for I thought that the good worthy fellow bad perhaps ear
ned him the money but God knows wlini bus belullen him, lor
he has really taken the 2000 L/ouis-d'ors with bim.
Car.Did not I tell you that the fellow had been taken up
before ?
Riic/r. And I tell you it is not true. Katzrabe is the most honest
creat'ire in the world. The riddle will soon be solved and you will see
J am right. Bui just al pic-M-nt 1 til ii myself in a stale ol great
embarrassment, for old Bombeck insists upon the payment or upon
piy giving niy daughter lo a Theosophist. 'that J ill never do
weie i even obliged to turn my back upon house and home.
: Cor. And that you cannot any lunger do, fori have your word.
' Riick. And my baud into the bargain. Ko one but you shall
be my sotwiu-law.

SCENE 8th.
PeTEK GOODSHEEP AND THE ritECEEDING.

Pet. ...Via ! ha ! ha! my comrade is here again, my dear brothrr.

Riick. Who ? Kalzrabe P There, yon see.
Vet." Ay ! ay ! my dear brother whence come yon," said I.
"Leave me alone" said he. " \ ou are welcome" Shid J. " You
are an ass," said lie.
Riitk. Where is lie ? The honest creature has certainly been
to old Bombeck to redeem the bond.
Vet. No, he could not do that even if he wished, for they have
hold of him by the throat.

380

RmJl-.---.Who ? What ? How ? Who has dared to. lay hands

on- my vale* ?
.'
'" Vet.The Messrs. Holdfast. " Why have they laid holdofyoa
by the throat," said J, " Y*>.'\ are tt. stupid brute," said he.

SCENE 919.
WaJ.TKH, KlTZRABS, SOME CATCH-TOILS AND THK PRKCEEP1SG.

Ifin/. Here, Mr. Von Ruckenmark, I bring yon the rascal back
who "wanted in runoff with your money Fortunately, I was in.
tin.' (ioldi'ii Fox while he was drinking toasts nl such a rate with
ill i: sh :cps-sknll there. The thing looked suspicious But at last
when 1 heard him, semi the waiter foi a ppsl-chaise, I. smell a rat,,
took a couple of catch -polls wiih me as assistants, posted myself,
at the gate oi the Iuvyii and there we caught him Here is your
money. Now, I Inuie you will allow me to be an houest man
Here me your 50 dollars also. Jt is quite enough far me that the
Magistrate sentenced you to the penally My honor I cau never
permit to be purchased with money Farewell, (exit.)
V.tk Couiess scoundrel,
R'VX\Stop, stop, my son. Don't be too hard with him
Explain yourself, uiy good Iriend, how ihe lliing happened. Some
other very powerful organ must have been acted upon.
A'a/i.-'-Alas, your honour, I have twelve little children, and they
are all starving.
Riick.Let me see (fit feel* the back f his head) Yes, there it.
is. An enormous organ of the love ol offspring. 1 was sure of
il,it was not possible otherwise.
Car. But lite other man, with the organ of theft, who brought
you your money back .again ?
. .- .
Riick. \\n.a,i will you bet that he has not got a still stronger
organ of vu^ety and thirst of lame : if, that were not thu (use Uc
would have let the mutter alone.
t

Car. (aside.)

He is incurable.

Riick.Come my honest Katzr.ibe, \\] rid you of these fellows.

You aie very much frightened 1 um sure.
Katz. Alas, y nuv honor, my twelve poor children.
*

--

. i

Riick.Well, well, but 2000 Louis-d'ors was a little too marl).

If I hud only felt that organ before 1 should have known nl once
what to think ol ihe matter.Lome with me lo my room, we'll
give the fellows something to drink, and sec if i is worth white lo
famine their skulls (exit with Xalzrabc and the t ntc/i-j oils.)
Tel.I must go and scc'where' thy ''deaf'brother1 puts' up' (/JxiX), .

t 88! J
FV. U is fortunate that my fatlu-r hns iittle
fcatzrabe would plunder him of every thing.
Cm: And your hither would still maintain
trial lie was an honest lid low. Such a man, as
to be ru-li as long as he is not tubbed ol his

SCENE

more 10 lost, this

to Ins last penny
he is, never ceasel
system.

10th.

Mr. VoN BoMBECK (icitll tt box) AND THE PHECFCEDIN-'C,

Bomft. Here 1 have brought you the heads.
Car.Good, good ! Now let us christen them quickly beforothe old gentleman comes. Nota Bene. You received the heads
fiom FranceA friend of yours had ordered them at an mommus
expellee. Four friend of course is also an adherent of the neiv
system, would not part with the skulls at any price, they are all
articles foi a museum': and so forth. Now let us see tliena.
Bowifc.The Sexton has given me all their names.'This was
an old woman a I'm innate teller who canted ou her business in
thii suburbs.
Car. We'll make her chevalier Bayard.
Bomb.This skull belonged to a Negro who was a servant
in a gentleman's house here.
Car.Negro-skulls are certainly not in the best repute, but we'll
conler an honor on this one. Tins is Voltaire's skull stolen Irom
the Pantheon.
.
Bomb.This was once Sexton of St. Sebald's ( hurch.
Car. He shall be named Cagliostro.
Bain ft.This head is said to have been a little cracked. It be
longed to a love-sick girl.
Car.We'll christen it, Robespierre.
Bomb. Some cuts are still visible on this skull. He was a
Dragoon, killed in the late war.
Car.The maid of Orleans.
Bomb. This last surmounted the trunk of a Quaker.
Car.Let his name be Cartouche.
Erf. Bravo ! a notable company t
E;/i. It never occured to any of these good folks that they were te
help me to a husband.
Car.They may thank us for making them even after death do
clever things.
Bomb,If it succeeds it will really furnish the gtound-work of
a Comedy,

<Wr.- Heads would then nod indeed.

Tjvinb. We would cut tliem off if thoy did not nod approbation.
Kim.1 hear nijr father.
Car. {to tioi*0eik) quick, cover them up.

SCENE lln.
Mr. Von Ruckenmahk and tub Preceedins.
Fiirfr.The matter is settled. Aha, Mr. Von Bombeck! Yo
are come about the bond, I suppose. The money ii ready.
Bo/n'i. No, Mr. Von Ruckenmark, I am not come about the
bond, but to bestow a pleasure on you although you deny me tin
enjoyment of lite.
Mick Mo such thin$. As far as I am concerned, you may
enjoy yourself as much as you please and wherever you can.
Bum. ) have a rah friend in Poland who is just as eiuhusiasticiiiiy dvottd to the science of skulls as you are, and bas
spent immense sums upon it.
Hiid: Has he a collection ? Can it be compared with mine ?
Bw6. Not yet perhaps, but he collects unceasingly and spares
neither pains nor money as he knows thut I possess an extended
ajrele of acquaintance in France h bas rhnrgtfd me to order for
lAm six most remarkable skulls which really could only be pur
loined lor their weight in gold and at the peril of life. I have
stti-iecded however and' rbe skulls are just arrived. Before I dis
pajch them further I wish to do you the pleasure of letting yott
scd and examiue them.
Hiid: Very much obliged. What skulls are tbay ?
Bom*. Chevalier Bayard, Voltaire, Cagliostro, Robespierre, The
maid of Orleans and Cartouche.
Riid: What the deuce ! I lave yon really j^ot thorn is vur
power ? My dear friend ! wheie ? where ? where ?
Bomb. Here! {he uncovers the box.)
Biick.Odda Bobbsl Hush! Httsh! Don't speak to me,not
a word, not a syllableyou shall now witness the triumph of ers>
niology. Throw these skulls pell mell to-gelher just as you like.
Til still pick out each individual one. Do you see wit here ?
That is Voltaire. Here courage ? That is Bayard. Hera Thcoso1>ii v P Thut is the maid of Orleans.
Bontfc. Positively ! I am astonished.

383-.]

ttiich Here is enroling ! That is Orjliostro. The two last

fere difficult u> itisiiitgnisL bi-lween, loi they boih hav an enormous organ
*>f rriiirder larger even than that of our friend here, Mr. Von
HellsR'itt.
Cor. Much obliged.
Riick. But it is intimately united in this one with the organ
of theftI should imagine it therefore to he Cartouche.
Bomb.You have guessed it.
Riick. Hear me, my dear friend. You must make over these
skulls to me.
Bomb.That 1 cannot do.
Riick. We'll make an exchangeI'll give you 10 of my La
cedonxmians for them.
Bomb. I dare not.
Riick. Demand what you pleat>e.I'll sell my last coat off my
, back.
Bomb. My friend knows already that the skulls are on their way.
Riick. Write him word that they were seized by highwaymen.
Bomb.' O ! highwaymen never lay hold of such commodities a*
these.
Riick.Or that they were coming by sea and that the ship
had foundered.
Bomb.I realty do not know why I should deceive my friend ?
Riick. Because you will preset ve my life by it, I beseech you
tor Heaven's sake ! I cannot sutler these skulls to leave the house
again.
Bomb. They will nevertheless go off by the post this very
evening.
^ Mick.My dear friend ! I am becoming desperate, I shall use
violence.
Bomb. Ay ! ay ! Mr. Von RiickenmarkIf I had thought of
using violence too when you denied that one single head which I
so passionately long to possess
;
Riick.'My dear friend ! That is hut one paltry skull. How
could you compare it with a Robespierre, a Cartouche f
Womb. And yet this head that smiles so lovely upon me would
De the only equivalent.
Riick. Hear me, Mr. Theosophist ! Are you in earnest f
' Bomb.To gratify yon I would commit treason against friendship.
Riick.Yes, if that is
you have no vestige of the organ of
, music-r-hut six .such skulls.
y s

884

" Car.Stop, stop, Mr. Von Ruckenrnark! yon forget what yosl
promised me.
Wick. But my dear friend ! What shall I do if the man will
not give me the skulls at anv other price ? T wish I had as many
daughters as these sleeping Virgins1 would pay two daughter*
for every one of these skulls.
Car. But I canuot surrender my pretensions. I have youf
word and hand.
Wick. My dear friend ! Don't drive me to despair.
Ed. How would it he, friend Hellstern, if you were to assist
my fathtr to this treasure, and at the same time confer on me,
your hosom friend, a never-to-be-forgotten benefit ? You under*
stand me ?
Cor; You demand much But I cannot withstand the prayers
of IricndshipMy abominable organ of adhesiveness compels me.
Wick. Do you give me my promise back ?
Car.Upon one condition. I have a sister with whom your
son has fallen in love, a pood silly creature, who loves him in
feturn very affectionatelyIf you now will give my sister to your
eon instead of Miss Von Stttznvald with th# triangular bead, let it
be a bargain 1 will sacrifice myself magnanimously.
Briar. Has your sister the organ of music ?
Car. Her skull resembles mine exactly.
Wick. Indeed! I hope a little more love of offspring and a little
less appetite for mnrder. What shall I do ? The maid of Orleans
I can never pirt with, he may rather marry the devil himself who
Iras no organ of music either.
Cer<--My sister is alone at the Inn. May 1 carry her your
t>lessing this evening ?
Ritdr.-In the name of heaven! The skulls are mine.
'Bomb. And Emily mine !
^
Ed. And Caroline mine !
CarFriend Hellstern however sets off to-day, for could he wit*
ness the happiness of his rival ?
Wick.Set out in heaven's name {to Bomberk) Son-in-law the
bargain is concluded. Huzza! the skulls are mine. {He runs off
with the box.)
Car.Thank me for it and mark the lesson.
He who plays with systems becomes himself the tool of allvho
mre cunning enough to caress his hobby-horse.
FINIS.

[384

],

Original Corrr/ftvonBtnee.
TO TBI EDITOR OT THE CF.TIOV MAGAZINE.

8 in, I beg to suggest the following lines as an appropriate motto to jour

ifagaiuie.
Your obedient servant,
A WELL-W1SHEB.
" Si quid novisti rectins istis
'.' Candidus imperii : Si non, bis mere mecum."
Horatii Epist : Lib. 16.
If you know any thing better than these, frankly communicate your know
ledge; but if notuse these with me.
[Our well-wisher is thanked.

We shall avail ourwlf of his suggestion.Ed. C.J M.]

TO THE EDITOR OT TBI CIYEO!) MAOAZIHE.

Ms. Editoii, Ever since I read the Propectus and Plan of your
ttylon Magazine, I have consented to be a Subscriber to it, for I said ibis
monthly paper will be a very good thing if the gentlemen who write it do
what they say tbey will, at any rate it will not be a very bad thing lika
many weekly papers that are written in different places. Sir, I bare conti
nued to Subscribe and I have also never refused to pay for it ever sine*
it was printed, and so I think, Sir, I have a right to tell yon what I and
Some ether Singhalese think of your Ceylon Magazine. I think there are
some good things in it, and 1 think there are some things in it too that are
not so good, but I dn nut mean to offend you or the learned gentlemen that
write them. I only wish you, Mr. Editor, to know what you coaBnl know
unless you are told, I mean the opinion of the native Subscribers and read
ers of your Ceylon Magazine. We think your paper is filled too much with
Europe country v> riling, 1 mean with Essays, Mnries and Poetry. The Essays
and Stories we bear from TMise who understand properly, are good, and soma
of the Poetry loo, although some of it is not so good. Now 1 dare say Eu
rope gentlemen like all that, and so they ought if it is good, and they do
not ask anything else, although I hear some of them say (here is too much
wriiing of one sort in your Magazine. But, Mr. Editor, Sir, should not a Ceyion
Magazine have also something about Ceylon in it? I know there were some
" Poetical Sketches" of this island, but I never understood them. There have
been- one or two good papers about things of onr island and a grrut deal
about the Tamils, which is also good, so much, but ne ask for something
more,some writings about ourselves, about whutne aru and also too ahcut
what we ought to be and what wa might be, aud how wo are to be thai

[
This is what we desire
to ua?

386

and are anxious to have, and win yon not giv It

1 think you or some of the other writers will do it now yu know

I have written all this for you to read and I

about just now.

have said

all I can think

Mr. Editor, you must feel Kindly what I have said to you

in this paper and not take offence with

A Native Sdbicsibxb.
[Wo have not taken

offence at our Subscriber's letter.

kiudlier criticism then his.

We have stood ua-

The Projectors of the Cryfon Magazine never

expected to please all, and we imagine there are very few Periodicals, if
any,

which

Still the
denied.

do not

"some things

Jim Ccy/un Magazine is open to all.

a worthy article
partly

contain

that

are

not

so

good.'*

paucity of articles in our Muga: touching Ceylon, is not to be

save

the authors.

It has never been shut against

once, which, we regret was partly our own

If those

who can

tirite about

fault,

Ceylon would write,

there would be no lack of interesting papers, and we must confess that we

are disappointed at finding so few laborers in the field.
halese scholars and
the Ceylonese?

professors at Cotta doing?

What are the Sing

Where are the literary of

Let them come forward aua put their shoulders

to our,

wheels.En. CM.]

ON THE COOLING INFLUENCE OF A CLEAR NIGHT,

BY

TltE

BEV. J. O.

MACTICAH, SI.

A.

Sin, It occurs to me that it might give additional value to your periodical if

there appeared in iU pages now and thru, a paper on souto brunch of popular
Science.

There are few subjects that find more readers at home.

came time thu papers adapted whether lor

not often do for republication here.

Europe or North

But at the

America, would

In fact, even in those scientific researches

which are intended to be most general, there is often mucli that is local.

And

in the papers and treatises of the North-west there is generally much matter
which though given out as if universally true, is yet quite unsuitable to us
who reside in a latitude and climate so different front thttl of the regiuus re
ferred to.

In treatises on general science,

;lie suljert plainly ought to be

divested of all that is merely local or incidental, aud the doctrines which uro
given out as principles

cue.ht to he uuiu-rfcally true, wherever mutter acting

according to the laws of mulioii ; . f.niud.

the Mechanician The experimental

hat this rule is obsened only by

philosopher tiolates it

in almost every

experiment; and the consequence is, that our systems of physics mid of che
mistry are not general or cosmical systems but more frequently merely classified
statements of local phenomena.

For instance, it is luid down in every scicutifio

t m ]
work u lending fact in the properties of water that It boils at 212 nf Pa,k,
And every one is forming a scientific notion of the natnre of water, Is thus
betrayed into the belief that tbia U one of its characteristics, that it boils at
212 c. In point of fact, however, this is no characteristic of water at all It
is just as much in the natnre of water to boil at 112 or 312s as at 212
Its boiling point depends entirely on the amount of pressure npou its surface.
But because human creatures, who are curious about such matters, usually liva
in large towns which are generally located wh.-ro food is found, that is, in plains
Dear the level of the sea, and because at

this particular distance from the

top of the superincumbent atmosphere, water happens to boil at 2)2 it is

given out as something quite characteristic of water that it boils at 212.
the top of Adam's Peak however,

it will boil before it reaches 200 ,

At
and

while it is so cold, that however briskly it moy bubble, it would be incapable

of cooking many ordinary articles of food or even

of making good Coffee.

And in a vacuum or wherever the pressure of the incumbent atmosphere has

boon removed, it will boil with the beat of the hand.

Now this is only one

of numberless instances of the samo kind which infect almost all our scientific,
treatises (except those which

aro purely mathematical.)

They mix up wha,

is merely local, particular and accidental, with what is catholic and cosmical
and consequently give a very confused account of substances.

Science, instead

of being nearly perfect as the uninitiated are teniptcd to believe from tiro
eulogistic language generally made use of when speaking of it, is still only in its
infancy.

There is no reason to doubt, or rather let us say there is every

reason to hope, that some future generation will look with as much contempt
pn our chemistry as we do on the chemistry of the ancients.
Certain steps have been made however which can uever be overthrown or
need to bo retraced Men of genius occasionally arise who have been gifted
Willi the power, of seeing things as they are, at least down to a certain depth
Ami by them step after step has been made until now that we may safely
say that we know a few things in natural philosophy.
Such a man was Dr. Wells, and such is the characteristic of the discoveries
which he has left behind him in his Essay til Dew The principles which he
thero advances to account for the coldness of clear nights and the phenomena
of dew ami hoar frost, are applicable not to Europe only, or to Europe and
America, together, but hold good universally wherever there are land and water,
air ami clouds or clear ky.
In this

climate there are many fine illustrations of bis Theory which are

all the more interesting in consequence of the monotony, generally speaking,

of its meteorology .Nor are they

altogether uninteresting in

an economic a

poiut of view Few pel-sons, for instance, suspect that the surface of the soil
and Iho plants growing on it in the neighbourhood of Colombo, are exposed
to araiiRO of temperature of upwards of 100 degrees, namely, from 160 to 52; yet
such is iho (act.

At present it Thermometer laid un ihcsurl'uce of the ground

I 388 1
is the Cinnamon garden will rise under the influence of the sun sbiae ifi ifp-^
ami indeed much higher, provided it be small aad well insulated from the
bre ze and colder bodies around.

While on the 2d January, during the night, it

fell in a similar situation tit 02 and on the preceding ni^ht still lower.
No wonder (hen it is so difficult to raise most crops from seed in the open
fie! I in this country.

It will readily be granted that few plants could be ex-

period to survive such a range of temperature In Europe, indeed, there are

ranges as great, but with this difference, that the heat occurs only at one season
when the agriculturist lias prepared for it by having all his

fields clad by

crops, while the extreme cold occurs after a long interval when he is equally
prepared for it.

In this climate again, both extremes may occur within twenty.

lot, hours.
With r gard to the statement which has just been made as to the high
temperature of the soil, the reader will not he surprised at it The wonder
nther is that it should not be greater, since the same temperature has been
jVi'quen.iy observe*! far from the line both North and Scutii, as for instance
at tho Cape of (.rood Hope on the one hand, and in Scotland on the

other,

where the sun shines not otherwise than obliquely at every season, while here
be passes right through the Zenith twice a-year shining perpendicularly down,
and consequently with all the force of which he is capable.

But I believe

there are not many of the inhabitants of this quarter who are aware that
the temperature of the snrlaco of the ground ever falls so low as 52 s. Nor.
is this to be wondered at since the Thermometer suspended at a height con
venient for observation is seldom seen below 70*.

It often happens, however,

that the -m lace of the ground is many degrees colder than that of the air
even a few inches above it.

And this is the primary fact on which the great

depression of the ground-thermometer and all the phenomena of dew are to he

explainedou which, indeed, they have been already beautifully explained ujr
J)i. Wells in his theory of den- already referred to.
In order to the cooling of the ground, or of the vegetation upon it, many de
grees below that of the incumbent air, it is only necessary that the night be
clear and the ground or herbage be freely exposed to the sky.
night it is always

Alter such a

found that a great degree of cold has existed; and the

pli uomcuon is to be thus explained.

Ail bodies whatever are constantly giving off heat.

There is consequently

an universal interchange of heat between all bodies;Every body is constantly

gic.iig and taking heat; and in order that the temperature of any body he
sustained, it is essential that it take as much as it gives.

Now suppose one plot

of ground with the foliage of forest trees over it, and another wholly exposed
to the open sky, the former, according to the view that has been advanced, will
not be cooled so much as the latter, because though the heat (supposiug both
equally warm in the evening) will be given off in equal quantities, yet the

389

kat of the shaded field In radiating upwards will strike (he foliage above
It, which being thus warmed, will return the heat it receives, back to the ground
again. The field exposed to tbe open sky, on the other hand, while it give!
off as much at the other, receives no return, for the sky is very cold rotnpared
even with the coldest regions of the earth's surface. The same result will
happen if instead of foliage over head there be clouds. In that case just at
in the case of the forest, the heat given off from the ground during the night
warms the clouds, and they, being thus warmed, retwrn the heat to the earth again,
and to on till morning, when of course no indications are to be observed ot
that degree of coldness on the surface of the earth which usually follows t>
clear night.
In temperate climatet, and especially in Great Britain where agriculture hat
been so much attended to, great use is made of this principle for the protection of
seedlings and delicate blossoms. And in this climate it might be immediately turned
to account in eoolibg water, especially during this monsoon, when the sky It
often very clear, and the cold produced by evaporation might be combined with
that to be obtained by free exposure in a flat dish to the open sky. Mean
time, however, I proposed to myself no more than to state the principlewhich
tome in this neighbourhood may indeed Consider in no other light than an
argument in self-defence, since when I mentioned that the Thermometer laid
on the ground in the Cinnamon garden fell during the night of the 2d January
te 03, every one to whom I made the statement looked at me at if there
were tome mistake. The subject may easily be prosecuted in future paper*
however should it prove interesting.

BRITAIN'S FLAG.
" The flat) that's braved a thousand year*
" The hattle and the breeze."
Qo forth a pilgrim, wander o'er
The earth's e'er changing face:
From North to Southern Pole explore
Each Kingdom, clime and race.
And there, O ! man, when thou hast been.
Say, cntt aright nation brag,
Or ocean boast it ne'er hast seen
Unlurled, Britannia's Flag.
Go, pilgrim go, and let thy way
Be o'et the trackless deep,
Midst barren rocks, far, lr *rif
Where storms their empire keep.

390 ]

And ask the billows wild, that raw

** '-r* ''

Against each sea-girt crag

If (hey have ne'er seen proudly wave
Old England's lordly flag.
Thence to the North Pole's fearful /one,
The wild bear's lonely hind ;
Where Death sils on his icy throne,
And strikes th' iXploring hand.
E'en there,across that snow-forui'd world.
Have men been seen to drag
Their Irozen limbs, to laise unfurled.
The daring Briton's Flag.

.j
..

:*,
;
. ,.

-;

Then turn thee, wand'rer, to the east,

Whose varying countries yield
Alike the famine and the feast,
The desert and the field.
And ask when on some barren waste
Where pilgrim-armies died,
Yes. ask if there has ne'er been placed
The Flag of Britain's Pride.
Ed. C. M.

REMARKS ON THE AFFTNITY BETWEEN1 JAVANESE

AND SANSKRIT WORDS.

.Annexed is a list of JAvaiuse and Sanskrit words, which serves to point

ont the striking affinity between the two languages.
Mr. Marsden having already noticed iu the Asiatic Jteumrhes, vol. it, p
217 the traces of Hindu literature extant amongst the Jivanne, I beg leave
just to add, in confirmation of what he has stated, that in the course of the
recital of some of their Chirtrtos, or dramas by one of their Gurus, I was
enabled to identify many Hindu names, and was convinced beyond all doubt
that they are in possession of most of the fables and stories narrated in the
Pvrinas, particularly in the KivtAydnA and Maha Bharata, though with some
light variations in the character of the individuals.
According to their own oral accounts, and from what is recorded in their
chirsesH*, it appears tbat the ancestors of the present Jinmne were staunch
adherents of the Hindu religion in all its superstitions, as their neighbour*
the Balese are at the present day, and their descendants, though now pro
fessing a creed which denounces tremendous anathemas against all idolatrous
customs and practices, have such a high opinion of their forefathers Institu
tions that they are proud to be called after tba names of their gods and

[ 391

neroee, and feel great delight in having their dramas rehearsed as well as
acted oil solemn occasions.
The following are the names of persons and places which occur in their
dramas, and by way of elucidation I hare annexed opposite to each the eerlespondiinj ones from the Pui-anas.
Jdranest

Sanskrit

Sri Kama

Rama
Sila Deri

Devi Siiito

Lukshainana

Lb. Samana
Anoioan

Hunuinau

Sugiva

Sukrira

Suliali

'Bali

Anita

Anila

Ahoa.ia

Anguda

Kc\ j .a

Havana

Kuiubakarno

Kumba'carna

BaiUiia

Taruua

US i-.li.ino

Bibishaiia

Antarjit
Bala Ueva

Indrujit
Bala Uera

Vhurraa Bangsa

Dharina

Biina

Bima

Arjuua

Arjnna

Nakula

Nakula

Sadora

Sahadeva

Pandava

Pandava

Abiuiauru

Abhimanya

Sttinbodro

Subudra

TroniJi Bangsa

Drona

Kama

Kama

Parikishet

Parikshet

Kishna

Krishna

Luukapuri

T/ankapuri

Amirtapura

Amur.'u'iiti

In submitting the present observations to the public, I have no other

object in view than \n invite their attention to the subject, and I hope that
they will condescend to receive my mite of information wiib. ndulgence.

A comparative list of Javanese and Sanskrit twords.

Javanese
Btuni

Sanskrit
Bburai

. .

za

the earth

r[ &2 5
JArnncu
Mega

Sanskrit
Wegha
I'nni )

the cfoud

T6va 1

Water

Swtugft

Sffurga

the heaven

A r rural
Gltiimi j

Ar>.Wkat
Ariii
J

the fire

Sainfil
T6.vo f

Sfirya

Sfirya

the sun

Purillim*

i'unmma

the full moon

Raja

Raja

a king

Pfilra

Putfi

a son

I'utrf

Putrf

a daughter

Mautrt

Mantr!

a counsellor

Deva
P6vf

De>a

a god

rtvi

a goddess

Swamf

S4mi

a lord or husband

Bangsa
I.olii

Yangsa

race, tribe
covet ousnesa

L6T>lia

AsG

8i, Swan

a dog

Kama

Kama

mime

PiajulSnaw

1- 1 ii \ tuam

journey

a throne

Durhaka
Slntaslna.

Siml.asana

I.Susiua,

Lakshnua

beauty

Sigra

Siglira

speed

Biuaie,

Viuasha

( perdition
destruction

Sima

Sama

equal, all
all, .every

Samovinja

a cavern

G6vl

GiihS

Upiya

Upiya

stratagi-in

Hfnit

Bin*

disgrace
an image

Ui'ipa

Rirpa

Kasti'iri

Kasturi

musk

8u.'ara.

S61ura

brother

Sceala

SakaTa

all

NiscliayB

Nisrnaya

certainly

Dara

Ru.ihira

blond

Sumpiirna

Sani| iinit

perfection

Cbinta

Cliiola

A: i ni
Jaya

Jija

Harga

Arggha

Bihiga, Dahlga

mind
night
victory
price
thirst

t 393 ]
tantkrit

J&eaufie

V>uJuj
Oulllbala.

Tirga

kindreds

Gdpala

co herds

Malta

Maha

great

Molanja

Mula

ben inning

IHrma

Dharma

charity

li a n'l.l*

Garutla

tin' (MMlYago

- K'uMlia

Knsta
PrCUha
IVttda
}L.;

L-il-i

leprosy

Puriksha

to cxamino

Damla

a line

Kna

UMuir
( .Mil)
( pruduoe

Vabula>ija,, rahalamu

Phala

PnrviV-*

Upavaaa

fast
a goul

Panjin*
l'i i:na

Upaoii

comparison

Ruhaya

Rahasya

Bf'rr. t

Utira

Uttara

Prrtama

Prutbuma

first

Oi'iru

Guru

a ti-acher

I.d'.*

I. a!. ha

P'Oa

Fuja

north

pr.,fit
a sacrifice

Anl&ra,

Antara

air or sky, cavity

GMlia

Gada

a stauT

Kagarn, ?.'egeri

flagaii
U i i or Vina

a city

a weapon

Mauuaiyi, ilauflsi

Cbakra.
Jlanualiya [<ir Miuusha

Jsltri

Btrii

a wife

Muki
Kiijmla

Mukhi

the face

Jutpala

the bead

Hart*

Ail'lia

tieiicH

Gaja
SingaA

Guja

au vU'i'hau:

Sinhi

a limi

Gi;;ik

Kaki

a cimw

Nagi

Kagi

a serpent

Pina
Cltakri

an arrow

a man

Miihi

Madlm

honey

Cbiriti

Ciiiritra

history
bell

Nurika

Naraki

Sipati, Adapati

Adhipati

a governor

Arthi

Art'ba

Sakti

Sakti

morning
power

baksi, Syaksi

Sikshi

a witness

t
Javanese

394

Sanstrit

Jlra

Jatvi

(he Ufa

Rami

Kaini

a pun

Blinikam

Miuikya

a ruby

Tanduk

TinJava

dancing

Aniyaya

Aiiiyiyuin

injustice

Astina

Aat liana

royal assembly

Biji

Biji, V<je

seed

Bita

Batha

a chariot

Nila
l.iping

Mia

blue

A pain

a plain

Nimbi

Mmba

KipAl

Kirpaaa

cotton

Kapoor

Karpum

camphor]

Salru

Satru

enemy

Mleega

Maliga

a palace

Qrahina

Orahani

an eelipae

Aksira

Akabara

/the character of a tanI KWage

worship

Touduk

margose tree

Blhisa

Blilshl

lauguage

Dda

Dh6sbi

(In

*'

Ultima

Uttama

goodness, excellency"

Aglmi
Suka chctha

Agania

religion

Suklia cliitharu

pleasure, joy

Duka

Dukkbi

Dolu kala )
Dihfilu kalaj
Pahaliwan

saduots
ancient

time

Bakwin

a mighty man

Kuinkuiua

Kunkunia

taffron

Varnauja

Varna

colour

Hasta

Hasta

a cubit

Mandalika

Man Jal!

a rulor of the province

Budi

Buddbi

wisdom

Mallgc

Maliga

a palace

Pari si

a buckler

s. c. c.

[ 395 ]
SKETCHES OF MEN AND THINGS
BY THE000
LDIIoR.

"' A chhVs among i/etakm notes,

An fm Ih he'll jirenl it."

No. 4,

Until ef late yeats the "Press" with its complicated machinery,

Cental, manual and mechanical, has been veiled in mystery. Of
ell Histories that of ** Periodical literature" has been the must
neglected, and it was nut until a dearth uf other matu-r forced
the subject upon them, that the Reviews and Magazines at home
took the trouble' to enlighten their readers upon this most interest
ing topic, interesting not only Irotn the moral influence of. our
jteriodieuls, but iron) the vast numbers to whom they give constant
employment. Ol late, however, we have* hud ample details of the
whole mechanism ul "the Press," lor., scarcely a periodical appeals
but there is some paper upou priming establishments, editors, vomuositors, reporters, types and leaders. 1S\ this time the reading
public ought to be tolerably well acquainted with this " giant and
its myrmidons" and have learnt how much it owes to theip. ' As
yet, however, but out- side ol the picture has been shewn, the
fair side; there, is much of darkness and depravity to be explored,
villainy to be unveiled and quackery to be exposed- VVe have
looked on Loth sides ul the picture, and will endeavour, as far as
our feeble powers allow, to paint what others have Jell untouched : tor
" We are (not) forbid
" To tell the secrets of the prison-house."
The present age is peculiarly one of cheap rending,* as much
as it is of cheap physic, and the quacks in both trades are equally
numerous and impudent. Scarcely lias a work obtained some share
of popularity, when a host ol pilferers and imitntois arise. If a;
Magazine contains a clever and interesting article, or a New-pa|xr
tin important express hotn abroad, some pigmy periodical, willful
acknowledging the source, retails it word by word, tor as many
furilnugs as the original cost pounds. Imitating the title and tqi* Wo mouM liavo it understood That we do not wish to full in question
th utility and excellence ol' the ehrau literary i>u|>cr such Hi the IVnny and
Saturday Magazines, Chamber's Journal, the Minor, &c. the good whirl) they
1 avo effected is tucuhuluhlu hut it is to the small fry uf lUo i'olilicul I'rotS
t'-i-t we uuld draw uiu-iniou.

396

peorMice of a new ami popular periodical is another ruse of tha

enemy often with success. Ii is one of ihese petty pilferers these
robbers of other men's brains tl>a,t the present papei is intended
to poi tray feebly and imperfectly in language, it tuny be, but not
the less honestly.
Puseing rapidly nkmg the edge of the foot pavement in the Strand;
is a big, burly man, swaggering awd rolling about with, u thick
knobby cudgel fit to fell u bullock. Tt is a bleak, frosty morning
in January, and he is clad in a gigantic Baib-coat, with very v. ide
velvet collar and toll'-., leather gloves and a broud-biimmcd white
hat. He has just turned out of Catherine-Street and is bending
bis steps lowaid the ci-;, . He appears to be known to many of ike
passers-by, tor numerous are the nods he receives in his transit,
some of which he does not care to acknowledge, others he replies
to in a vavjety, of forms, from, the plehiau. wink of the eye to the
arislocratical. " How do."
This man is named Gholl and is known to the trade as the
"Bear," or " dwindling Jemmy." Mauy are the sufferers by hiru,
from the poor unpaid primer's devil, to the paper-maker, and the
advertising tradesman who has been weak enough to pay for
advertisements, that are never read by move tban a few bundled
persons. Let us follow him iu bis morning's walk from victim tp
victim.
Gholt has suffered some severe losses in his literary speculations,
but Antinous-like he has lisen each time from his fall with re
newed energy, and is now working a pel paper with fairer pro
mise of success than ever. If we aro to place any credit in hi*
flaming mouslre puffs, the " Omnibus'' is the largest, paper in Lon
don, contains more matter than the Times, with the latest and
most varied intelligence, the most able and independent editorials,
the very choicest literary selections, and lastly boasts the largest
Dumber ol readers, though the copies sold may not be quite as
mauy as the " Time*"' r " Weekly EHsiuttch," aH this for tb
paltry sum of one penny ! one copper coin of the realm !
He is no* on bis uuy to the city to heat up for Advertisers,
Subscribes and credit: arrived at Tern pic- bar he is accosted by a
poorly but deccully-eliid manv" Ob J Mr. fihok, ip yon, please,
there'8 that last paved of Ink you \e had,-r- sorry to be obliged to
no iblc a gentleman like you, sir but my teiws is cash and I'm a
poor ma n, s:r, a wery poor man ; an1 these here is hard limes sir,
very hard limes." "Ah, I believe there is a tiifle in join favor
Mears," said the other moving on uiid running his fingets through
his luxurious wiskers, "but thai last lot was terrible stull no gelting on with it at all could n't lake hall the impressions fairly
terrible work however I'll try anoihei hull hundred of it and yon
look iu early on Saturday.""But, sir, Saturday is your" "I know
Wears, no mattei come early" and away slalks the Bear leaving
the poor ink-maker uncertain how to act : an order is, however, a
tempting thing in these hard limes, and eventually he sends the ink,

t 3tf 1
ft) be Sold on Saturday thai Mr. Gbolt must not he Interruplctl.<
Jn Flt-el Street our editor goes into a Patent-medieint and Lozenge
Shop where he is all smiles and good humour, cracks u stale joke
with the assistant,relates some recent scandal to the in .so r, and
comes away with a newly-drawn op advertisement which he declares
will be read by at least forty-five thousand subscribers to the iK-nny
Omnibus. On Ludgatc Hill he encounters another iit-qiiniutnuce,
a young dashing fellow, of the ebony-cane and eye-glass species,
and to bim our hero is haiUfellow-well-met. " Ah ! Myrtle, my
good fellow, ho* d'ye do? eh!1' "'Morning Oholt,"is the reply
"just coming to the Omnibus." "Indeed! why what's in the
wind now ?another comedy written ? Or a French Vandeville
anglicised ! But never mind I'll hack yon, whalevei it is." " Why
no," replies the other, " its not exactly either of those something
in ratber a new line.'' "All the better, all the better, my dear lellow, originality is the order of the day you know;" " 'The fact is,"
continues the ebony and eye-glass, " it's an Fpic in thirty-nine
cantos, and you must know
" "Oh! is that all tell you whsit,
you let me have the first, twentieth, and lost cantos to-night, and
I'll do the thing in a nice friendly way you may depeud upon
me no fear."By dad, Oholt, you're a noble fellow and your
paper's a most independanl and invaluable one and ought to be read
by every body, that's what I say "''And so it is it's read by
all the world by-the-bye, Myrtle, have you any more subscribers
for me?""A few send'em with the three cantos, bye, bye, Oholt."
In Cheapside there was a manufacturer of " Patcnt-vintilatiugwaterprool-all-lhe-belter-for-being-oiit-in-lhe-rair.-beavei -huts" to call on,
as well us an Optician, a maker of Accordions and two FaKutmedicine vendors, all lor fresh advertisements Two Wine merchants
in Mark Lane, an anti-conibinaiiou coal-merchant in Fciithurrh
Street, with a shop about the size of a coal-waggon are next ap
plied to, all with like success; then he has to speak I. ir to his
paper-maker in Upper Thames Street) foi he is in want of a fresh
supply, and his credit is wavering* Coming back through Walling
Street, he gropes his way up to a back-garret where he has heard
a pool starving compositor lives : he finds him, destitute and hungry
just the very man lor him one whose luiseiy compels to work for
a quarter of his usual pay, and he is told to come to the Om
nibus office, receiving ball-a-crown as earnest money.
But follow hira home to his office truce the Bear to his den
and mark the difference of his manner to those, who, unfortunately
for them, are dependent ou his employ and who are consequently
his creditois and dupes.
The office of the Penny Omnibus is in a narrow court running
out of Catherine Street, Strand, with a small liontage in the street
and along range of low, dirty dismal huildiugs in the court. The
windo'A looking into the street is covered with one immense placard
or puff, detailing in gigantic letters and equally gigantic language
the many superiorities of the Omnibus over the other Loudon

[ 398 ]
Eaprrs, whether daily "or weekly. At night, a strong red light w
mi ued behind this window, which thiows nut the colored letters in
bi.-Id relief and reminds the passer-by of the near relationship ol the'
quack-editor and the qnack-doctor. The entire frontage ol the five*
stoiied house is covered with similar placards, from the " Editor's
Box" close to the scraper under the window, up to the sparrow's*
nests in the gutter of the roof, all telling the same varnished lies,
to dupe the unwary and camion the ptudeiit. Round the door is
congregated a crowd ol at lea-<l thirty men and boys, poor dud
Wretched in the extreme, whose garb is not more varied than their
countenances. There is a low inurmuiing of discontent amongst
them which grows into actual words as our hero approaches : these
are bis walking advertisers his locomotive puffers miserable beings
whose poverty induces tbem to perambulate the streets of the me
tropolis with huge bills twins to those on the house, pasted on hoards,
and eilhci exalted at the end of a pole or swinging before and
behind them, for the sum of six-pence a day, and, as their master
rather humourously observes, t In-ir hoard.
*' Well, Jones"begins the great Bear who sees that there is a
spirit of mutiny abroad, "what lsii"1 Never satisfied, as usual ?"
" Please, sir," replies the man addressed and who appeared to be
the leader of the gang: "we aim only got half our last week's pay
and there's as much more owing us for the week afoie, and the
week afore that, and we're determined as how we aint a gving for
to go on in this here way." "Oil! you aim, aim you," is the good
uaturc-d icply, "then you must just do the other thing that's all, I
won't keep grumblers on my establishment, 1 can tell you Here,
you Jones, come here" and Jones glides into the little oflice alter
in in cap in hand -Jones has great influence over the others, and
therefore he receives his half week's pay with six-pence a-piece for
the rest ol the poor hungry beings at the door. Thev receive it,
grumbling, but Jones tells then) the only chance they have of get
ting their arrears is to go on in the employ and a lucky day is
sure to come : so away they march in a long single file, from a
little mau with a long hoard and then a tall man with a short one,
keeping on the curb-stones of the streets.
All is bustle and icrivity in the little dark office as soon ok
the hurley form and growling voice of the proprietor is distinguish
ed. The window is obscured by the gigantic placard, pasted across
it and the little light that only renders the gloom more cheerless,
is given by a solitary candle stuck on the point of a nail on the
rail of the clerk's desk, but it is not set gloomy as to prevent the
"Bear" from perceiving several things left undone: the conse
quence of which is a long deep growl, with an occasional scratch.
" Holloah ! you rascal While ! I thought I to'd you to take that
renin of demy to the Stamp office and get it stamped ! Z ds,
why there's not a single thing done since I left."" Please Sir"
Deuce take you and vour please sirs, don't please me, Siryoa
lazy raga-imifliu ! What (ltugsby '. those advertisements not col
lected yet!Why, what the
" You bavn't signed the bills. Sir,"

399

is the reply of Grogsby, the clerk, who lays the heap of little bills
before him with the air of one who feels confident of bring quite1
correct and lias had his last week's salary. " Oil ! then pruy why
didn't you bring ihcni to me before I went out ?" " Not ready
Sir," is the independ till clerk's reply, and lie continues nibbing his
Stumpy pon with a cool indifference that makes the blood of two
jrrinters'-devils nnd a press-man run cold in their veins. Grugsby
is what is vulgarly called a " knowing hand," he knows his du
ties; and his muster, who in his turn knows him, and also knows
that lie can't well do without iiim ; so the little bills are signed
and then the Editor shots himself in his sanctum, an inner office distin
guishable from the outer one by being much smaller, much duiker and
much dirtier. An open sheet of the " Omnibus" would make an
ample carpet for this room, where if it Were spread " Price one
penny" would form the border on one side and " Printed and
published lor the Proprietor 4fc." on the other. The space is
still further circumscribed by heaps of country and Foreign Papers,
Bill-files, reams of new paper, bottles of ink, &c. kc, which
lay in primitive and literary confusion, and gives the little hale an
appearance of intense, red-hot business. The (our panes of cracked
glass which the landlord had styled a window, are adorned with
a natural curtain of mind, it most ingenious and useful contrivance,
inasmuch as the tax gatherer, utterly ignorant of their existence
liad never levied any window-laX upon them. A square deal table
groaning under a weight of papers, periodicals and new works and
three reul imitation rush-bottom chairs complete the furnishing and
givs an unique and picturesque appearance to the "Bear's Den." There
are scores of real " coi respondents" 10 reply to, the answers to which,
however, do not appear in the editorial ' A'olires" but thro' the
medium of the two-penny post, relating chiefly to sundry little
accumulations of british currency and which are not in favor of
the " Penny Omnibus." When these have been disposed of in
the custom.iry manner, remittances to the hard-hearted ones, soft
*ords to the new connexions and hnllvinir to the easy half-wilted
tradesman he has a set to in his own peculiar turn ; and many
are the long, labored, epistles of bombast and chicanery which he
indites to his victims : there is no paper in the metropolis which for
respectability and circulation can come near his, and consequently,
by his shnwirr;. ih >< is ii" paper which ofT'-rs so many induce
ments to the Advertizing; tradesman as the "Penny Omnibus:"
look at the Stamp o'hee returns. Tlise disposed of, he com
mences replying to another, a totally distinct set of beings the crea
tures of his brain in other words, the " Correspondents" of a
London Penny Paper. Long use has given bim a happy facility
in this department of literature, and it is truly astonishing how na
turally replies flo* from his pen to queries that have never had
an existence, and addressed to individuals and signatures that "nave
in reality neither '* a local habitation nor a name." X. Y. Z.'s
A. B.'s, VV. F's., O's. and P's., lollow each other in rapid suc
cession, and when all the letters in the Roman Alphabet are ex
A 3

400

bansled, we meet John Smith's, Richard White's, RnrfuirerN, Cttw

server's and numerous oilier members of the same family, ulF
equally thirsting lor information and ail drinking at the same Pen
ny Fountain of knowledge. In the midst of his muliifurioits atw>
benevolent occupations, a gentle rap is heard at the door of In*
Mincium, and on being desired , the kiwckr enters. "Aha! my good*
leMow !'how d'ye do, Prole?'" "Oh! hearty ! [low's the " Huss"
getting on ? All right I suppose"" All right ! I believe it i*
indeed -Full inside and out Advertisements come tumbling in by*-'
Hundreds can't set 'em up fust enough." " Well, that's all right,
certainly," was tin' reply of the dupe Prole who pulled out a neir
lor in of advertisement lor Ins goods and bunded it to dlmlt with*
tire-pound note. " Shall be put in type to-day lor an old friend1
like yon," and he glanced at the bank-riiote. " By-the-bve Prole,
Dave yon1 seen the stump returns tot the last quarter? 'inhere they
are, and 1 rather think advertisers will know which is the vi'.iht
Buss lor them : three thousand five hundred beyond the Belt's Weeklf
and
coming close up to the Dwpntck." '1 he puller leaver
the office in the firm belief that his 1 nil' will be read by lilty
thousand individuals at the very least.
Another tap is soon hetiTd of a peculiarly soft and indistinct
hind, and "come in" is again pronounced. '1 he visitor this time
it a young man of rather superior address, though poorly habited,,
nniJ evidently coming on business to h1ih.Ii be is unaccustomed.*
" Weil, sir,' begins the growler in his pun harsh, grating lone^
taking his eyes oil' the letter be is writing and seeing the other
stand with the door-handle in his hand, "1 suppose 1 slall nor
Wt you U you do close the door now then what's your pleasure.
Hflr. diffident, come I've no lime lor any nonsense,' The youth.
Colors up, not with sTiatne but indignation. Fie, however, knows
lie comes as a petitioner, and passing ovei the man's rudeness, ex
cesses his business as well as he may. He is in retimed circuit)*
Stances; has a mother and two sisters to support knows no trade,
nut has had a first-rate education and wishes lor employment a>
a' rcporlei he writes quickly, has a sli-bl atquainlai.ee with short
hand, and will make up fur his ignorance o! the proltssiou by his
ferseverence and care. "Why," replies the man ol lilicis, "do
Ton know that you're asking me (or what is only given to the first
rule men in the country 'f Jxt polling indeed! Why you conceited1
puppy, I've at this vety moment lint less than sij-mii lepoilers,
on my establishment, twelve ol whom are barristers with most ex
tensive practice, and the rimaining lour arc M. lVs" "I really
as nol aware" begins the yonng man. "Then if you were not
aware, why the devil do you come to a paper with such un iui*
nieuse circulation as the Omnibus, with \our preposterous wants.
NiiMi.fi which he lings the office hell with a violence that must
Iljake it heard at Soineiscl House hiscoiilidential factotum answers
the appeal with bis hat on and a pen behind his ear. " Here. Mr.
Grugsby," says the maiiaeovcrer, <* inking his e>e at him, which the
otlier feciptocates by pointing to the stiaiign' with his iluiinl/, "tote'

401

fttete letters arrd' let them he left at the house* of nil the members
Uelore lour o'clock: mind that sir, ns I expect the contents ol thena
will greatly influence the debate to-night. And let there be ten of
our reporters in constant attendance, do you hear Sir ?" " Very
good sir," is the clerk's reply. Alter giving the stranger sufficient
time t digest the pieceding conversation and appearing to be tui,
meistd in papers and officials, he continues, " \Vell, young (pan,
s you are determined to be a reporter aud think you can cut out
fliy twelve barristers and four M. P.'s, you shall have a try. There's
A meeting at [ixetei Hall to-morrow morning something about the
Polish Kxilvs or the war with C'hiua (lang me if \ know which
go and see what soil of a fist you ran make of it, and mind 1
have i he report written out lairly, x\o hieroglyphics, ll you snccocd
you'll get nine shillings a-jweek ir.ie Ommibvs always pays handomcry but you must keep a good coat on your buck for ihe credit
f the paper, Good morning sir, Mr. Grugsby will give you a lewHints." 'Ihe youth is bowed, cuit and turned over to the clerk, who
tells him how to get admission to a good place, ..nil how to hud
i+fit the nnpies ol the speakeis, and away he goes Cull of hope titid
energy to '.oil and slave lor a salary he is never to touch.
Saturday comes, as all days must come, and the Omnibus is
published..
The illuminated clock ol Saint Mary-Lc-Sirand is
striking four as the fit si quire ol [i is brought up warm and damp'
Ironi tile press-room. A story of little hungry looking, meagre
boys, a few old ragged men with hoary locks and blear eyes, and a,
widow in taitei'd, rusty wcids with a baby in her arms, are waiting
anxiously in the little dimly-lit office knocking their numbed, gloveless lingers against the counter. A rush is made lor the fitst deliveiy, for every one is aiixious to get home and escape the, bitter
cold of the night air. Another quire comes up and another suc
ceeds it, while a couple of boys at a back table are folding some
Umiiiluxcs foi the post. In a quarter of un hour the scrambling
is over the news-venders aw served, au4 none but a few straggling
ptirchuseis enter the plate. What, the reader will say, is the tre
mendous circulation of the Oumih us thus readily disposed of?
Are the sixty-five thousand copies that are given iu the stump
ofl.ee returns so quickly disposed ol ?- Herein lays the whole mys
tery of newspaper quackery. The stamp office authorities declare
that the Penny Omnibus lakes sixty-live thousand stamps every
week and it tells the truth, Cor sixty-fire thousand pence are paid
weekly, by our friend G boll lor stamps. His actual sale ol prilled
copies averages thirteen thousand ! ! What hecoir.es of the remain
ing fortv-seven, and why does he pay for what he does not use ?
Yon shall hear. The great support ol a London paper or indeed
f>l any paper, is the advertisements, and to get these every etlort
is made by editors. Now, il is clear that the gtealer the circula
tion ol u journal, the more quickly will advertisements flow to it
ai.d when a tradesman wishis to pull' nn article, he goes to the
tump office returns and selects tin se pipers tit ihe lop ol the list.
Cli aUituluiti knew litis, m.u began by taking leu thousand stamps;

*02

in a couple ol weeks he Wight an additional ten-thousand,, and so

on until he reached the Dumber just stated. Yet during this tiros
the sale of the "Omnibus" has crept on but slowly in spite of
its puffs ; the advertising columns however, are well filled, and while
thai is the case the editor laughs at the sale. In a cellar under
the press-room, are quires innumerable of stamps, just as they came,
from Somerset House unsullied by ink. Once a month this is clear
ed out, the contents are disposed of as waste paper, in small par
cels, to different shops, for it would betray the Secret were they'
all to be taken to one person. The number of penny stamps thus thrown
away, are fully made up by the adveitiseinents which flow rapidly in on
the sdenglh of the false circulation attributed to the paper.
Such is the " Penny Editor" and his literary nostrum, and such, on a
more humble scale, are many of the metropolitan periodicals. He goes on
lying, swindling, and swaggering, obtaining credit on all sides, but
giving none, and when at last bis resources fail, he pockets his
booty and retires for a season to the Surrey side of the water, not
very far from the Borough. Or, if he meets with a victim,
he will sell his piper before the crash comes, and then :ake a.
summei trip to Boulogne : in the mean time the deceived pur
chaser finds out the villainy of the scheme from hitter experience :
the bubble bursts: he is beggar'd, and if he be not backed by
staunch friends, most probably passes years in jail.

.
-90

403

LsAnStxo. '.earning has thin strong

recommendation, that it is the off-Spring
f a roost valuable virtue ; 1 in. mi,
Industry ; a quality 1 am ashamed to
tc- pagans frequently let a higher
Value than we seem lo du.Uuanah

liore.

Writer," and tiree odd volumes of the

" Gentleman's Magazine," the whole
neatly arranged in a dark-coloured
omhoL-any bookcase, with glass-door, the
lock of which looks slightly rusty, and
goes very bard. In the course I>f his
life he visits Paris but does not like
it at all, for he says, tbat all the time
be una tbefe he could never get a
piece of roast beef fit to be seen nor
a bottle of port worth drinking. He
is Very inveterate against paupers, and
if one quite blind, or hardly able to
move, solicits his charity, he asks him,
in an imperative tone, why he does not
Work? He subscribes to the Asylum
for Female Orphans, and turns his
daughter out of doors for marrying with
out his consent. He is a great advocate
for slave emancipation, and discharges
a clerk for refining to sit 12 hours at
the desk : " young men must not be
idle." He is very liij'.d and punctual
in business transactions, and if a man
owes him anything and cannot j ay, ho
sends him to prison in a very business
like manner.
He attends church re.
gularly, and says that nobody can
have any religion who oVng not He
injures s*iis health beyond recovery by
oecessive application to money-making,
but K'Te up at 6S, and retires tn enjoy himself. Ho purchases a villa in
Kent, is devoured by ennui, and for the
first time in his life begins tn have a
glimmering idea that riches are a means
ami not an end. He dies aged 63,
after having partaken, the previous night,
of a hearty supper, and leaves behind
him s very pretty fortune, which his
sons joyfully inherit and spend in a
shorlor lime than the old gentleman
could poss'Mv have conceived.
His
friends, when they are told of his death,
say they are verv sorry to hear of it,
for that he was a highly respectable
man. In a little time the slight oddy
which his disappearance had caused
subsides, and tbe stream of life flows
on us smoothly ns if he had never
been on its surface."Jetl irwrf Enrnett.

A Resectable Mas," His form

is decidedly not that of Apollo, and
his gait would make a dancing master
shudder. He wears a coat of a square
cut; never uses Btrap to his trousers
nd displays a large bunch of seals.
He has a country-house atClaphatn; but
attends bis counting-house without fail
every morning, and alway alights from
the sta_'e-conch in Gracechurch-street
exactly as the clock is striking 9. He
is very unlearned himself, but is at
great pains to have his son uu-rht
Latin and French and his daughters
music, which he has some dim notion
it is genteel they should know.
He
scorns prejudice, and savs he highly
esteems the French nation, lor the
house of Dubois and Co. is one of the
first in Europe. He has heard some
thing about lb* gaiety of Hyde -park;
and goes th;-re for the first" time on
a beautiful Sunday in September, but
is astonished there are so few carriages.
He operts the conversation with a strang
er by sayiug, that, to-day is not so
fine as yesterday, mi. I that in the
morning it looked like rain. In po
litics it is ten to one but he is exactlv
what his father was before him, ai.'d
so he will wish to see his children,
but should they turn restive, and pre
sume to have an opinion different from
his own, be will wax wroth, and say,
he never could have expected such a
thing, and that ih-v ,<> <irt of
his family who ever thomrht so. His
library consists of the " Bible," the
" Whole Duty of Man," Johnson's
"Dictionary," the "Dramatic Works
f William Shakspeare," rtneean's " Do
mestic Medicine," the second and fourth
volumes of the " Spectator," Horle's
" Rules of Whist," " Robinson Crusoe"
(with a copper-plate frontispiece of
Laconics la there any station so
Robinson at dinner in his cave), Gold
happy as an unconnected place in a small
smith's "Animated Nature," Milton's community, where manners are simple,
' Paradise r.ost" ("with a stationary
where wants are few, where respect is
reading mark in the middle of the the tribute of probity, and love is the
second book), the "Complete Letter guerdon of beneficence 1Landor.

"f

404

Tt is more honourable to the head

OS well as the hi Hit, to be misled by
our eagerness in the pursuit of truth,
Jlinn to be safo from blundering by
contempt uf it Coleridge,
Win n an insert dips into the surface
Of a stream, it forms a circle round it,
which culclles a quick radiance from
sun or moon, while the stiller water oh
either side flows without any: in 11k*
manner, a small politician may attract
the notice, of the kin or the people,
bv pulling into motion the pliant ele
ment around him ; tvbile quieter men
jjass utterly away, leaving not even
this weak expression, this momentary
sparkle. Landor.
We must get at the kernel of plea
sure through the dry and hard husk
of truth. Htizlitf.
Absence is the invisible and incor
poreal mother of ideal beauty.LaHdvr.

Imagination is little less strong in

Our later years Horn in our earlier.
True, it alights on fewer objects ; but
it rests longer an them, and sees them.
better. Lander.
The height of all philosophy, botb
natural and moral, is to know thyself;
and the end of this knowledge is to know
God. Quartet.
A conversation with a young Irish
man of good natnral abilities (and
amont.' no race of men are those abili
ties more general) is like a forest walk;
In which, while yon are delighted with
the healthy fresh air and the green
Unbroken tnrf, yon must stop al every
twentieth step to extricate yourself from
a briar. Yoa acknowledge that you havebeen amnsed, but that von rest willingly,
and that yon wonld rather not take
the same walk on the morrow. Landot.

Love's So< now. rride may be called

in as a uselnl auxiliary to assist a
woman to bear up against the incon
stancy or the injustice Of her lover, hot
The fault of the old English writers
few can withstand his sorrow ; for no
was, that they were too prone to un
weapon in the whole armonry of love,
lock the secrets of nature with the key
is so dangerous to a female brafct,
of learning, and often to substitute
Lady Bteatnytan.
authority in the plaea of argument.

There are proud men of so rnnch

delicacy, that it almost conceals their
pjide, and certainly eicuses it. Landor.

BazlUt.
THE ABOLITION OF SLAVERY.
Grand and auspicious wars that happy time
When England rose, majestic and sublime;
ArniM with the strength that only arms the just,
The light of truth flashed in her ^y^n august ;
Wide o'er the earth her mighty hands she spread,
While rays of glory beam'd about her bead
The listless natrons stalled und asvoke,
Aa with loud voice the cheering words she spoke:
" No more," she cried, "' no more, Ihnu teeming eartb.
For me or mine, shall fhon to slaves give birth ,
Ko more for me shall helots till the soil
Stripes their reward, nnd pain and hopeless toil ;
N" more shall slaves produce vile wealth forme
Joy! Afrle, joy! thv swarthy sons are free!
Hour, all ii' nations! Iiear the voice of truth,
And wake to pity and redeeming rnth ;
The wealth is cirrsed that springs from human woe,
And he who trades in men 's England's foe:
Freedom, God's liift, was kindly meant for all
Poor suffering slaves ! this hour vonr fetters fall"!
Earth, as she heard the loud majestic voice,
Should reply, and bade her sons rejoice.
Mackay's Hope of the World*

405

Srtracts from Vrvt'oKtcnlo.

Or-iyjoss n thb "Times."The

cobbler declares the Hint's want " mend,
iug," that his " bttle awl" is insufficient
to support him, although he is the
11 fast" to complain.

The philosophers say there is no

such iliin-: as colour, yet the times
certainly look black, anJ everybody looks
Hue.

The want of money ts undoubtedly

The watchmakers sa^v their watches universal, and the smnlhst rhanae would
" don't go," and they shall be " wound be acceptable. licntley't Miscellany.
up" if the " spring'doeR uot produce
Two Wonderful Clocks. Two very
a " movement." Kven tile undertakers
complain that their trade is " dead ;" extraordinary clocks were, some time
since presented by the East India Com
and the little ale brewer*, that every
thing in their line is "/7rt7, stole, and pany to the Emperor of China, being
entirely manufactured by English artists.
Unprofitable." Cabinet-makers are coin
pelled to return their bills to their They were iu the form of chariots, each
of which contained a lady sealed lean
" drawers;'1 and chair manufacturers
vow tliey have not a " leg to standjOn." ing her right hand on a part of the
chariot, under which whs a clock, little
B.ed- manufactures say these are not larger than a shiliiiu , that struck, re
times for " feathering their neat," and peated, and went for eight davs, without
that they are obliged to " bolster up" requiring winding up. A bird was on
their business by gelling "lick" when
the lady's linger, finely modelled and
ever they can.
set with diamonds uiid rubies, with its
wings expanded as it'lo fly, and which
The trunk-makers, when others talk
was made to flutter for a cousideruble
of distress, hold up iboir hands and
time ou touching a diamond button.
cry, " they never saw inch a rfco',"
The body of this curious bird, in which
and that they daily see more cues of
were the wheels that animated it, was
distress than packing-cases !
less than the sixteenth part of an inch.
The little wine merchant declares, In the lady's left hand was a golden
like the " cabin, boy," that he Is " wreck
tube with a small round box ou the
ed in sight of /'[;'/!"
top, to which was fixed a circular
T'he poulterer, that pujphaMiig stock. ornament set in diamonds which went
is ree.lly milking "ducks and drakes" round in three hours. A duuble um
of his money, for all his customers brella was over the lady's head sup.
ported by a small fluted pillar, and
arc " on the wing."
under which was a bell thai struck the
The rope- maker firds "spinning a hour, though apparently unconnected
long yarn" as unprofitable as tin author's wilb the clock; and at the lady's feet
writing " wonderful tales" without the was. a golden dog, before which were
prospect of a publisher, and thinks se
two birds, set with precious stones, and
riously of making a rope for himself.
apparently dying away with the chariot,
The hackney-coachman says that the which from another secret motion is
contrived to run in any direction, while
omnibuses have run away with his cus
tomers, aud that his vocation is ajl at a a key appears to push it forward.
There were ulso flowers, ornamenu,
stand !
and a flying dragon, all set with pre
Ask the market-gardener " How are cious stones, or formed of them, and
turnips?" or "How are potatoes ?" and the rest was made uf gold most curi
he answers that luey are ' Flut very ously executed, and presenting a won
flat."
derful specimeu of ingenuity and talent.
And lima it is with, every calling
and profession. Some have recourse to
emigration, ami, of course, many journeymen become travellers from necessity.

A New Musical Ikstkvment. " The

inventor of this strange work of art it
a plain Cumberlane yeoman, from near
Keswick, and the rude materials from

405

which he contrives to extract the most

enchanting baru.ony are uothiog wore
than a collection of slates or stones
from the ninre unfrequented parts .of
the mighty Skidciaw. These are ar
ranged in such a manner as In enable
three persous to heal upon them at
the same lime with small woodeu mal
lets ; and this is accomplished with so
much dexterity and skill as to distil
from the rudest possible materials the
most rich and delightful melody of hhvi
sounds thai ear ever heard, or imagi
nation can conceive. The effect is
perfectly magical, and the listener stands
entiimced and wonder struck. Men of
undoubted musical science have. \n.
speciec this novel instrument, end have
given a roost fluttering opinion of the
work which the inventor has achieved,
and also of its vast capabilities.
Whitehaven Herald.
Geooiuphical .Alutkiiation.
The Brewers should to Malta go;
The fools to rocks of i>ciUy;
The Quakers to the Friendly Isles;
The /'u'-riers, all to Chilli.
The little squalling, bawling babes,
That nightly break our rest,
Should be packed off to Baby Ion,
To An /' land or to Brest.
Cooks from Spiihcad should go to Greece;
And while the Miser waits
His passage to the Gviiua coast,
Spendthrifts are in the Ulraits.
Spinsters should to the Xeedles go j
Wincbibbers to Bvryandy ;
Gourmands may lunch at.Snno'iricn Isles;
Ways poke their fun ai /'im-dy;
Musicians- hasten to the Sound,
All Mendicants to Rome ;
And let the race of Hypocrites
At Cant-on find their home,
Lovers should U\ the Cape Good Hope ;
To sotne Cape Horn is pain ;
Debtors should go to 6. 1. I). (Ohio),
din sailors to the Main ;
Bold Bachelors to the United Slatest
Maids to the Isle of Wan ;
The Gardeners should to Botany go,
And Shoeblacks to Japan.
The Quarrihuane in /re-land
Will find their proper level ;
The Printer, when he sets these lines,
May post off to the " Devil."
Colonial Magazine.

Tfs Mathematicai Powee T.ocw,-*

By the introduction of this invention,
it is expected a powerful stimulus will
be given to a staple manufacture, viz.,
the liueu trude, which has for many
years beeu in a drooping state, owing
to the low price of labour in Scotland
The mathematical loom is equally ap
plicable to the manufacture of worsted,
cotton, and all other fibrous substances.
Ibis is called a mathematical loom,
because the quantity pf w*ft or woof
is determined by calculation of mea
surements, thus securing at pleasurecloth of any fabric or stoutness, aud
perfectly equal throughout. The. pres
sure upon the warp-thread can be va
ried to suit the strength of :he warp,
so that the strongest or most deli,
cale yarn rau be woven, and a firm
or soft fabric produced witboul any
difficulty.
The loom performs the.
whole work of weaving, and will pro.
duce a piece of cloth of the ordinary
length without the alteration of any
of its parts. It has woven two bolts,
or thirty yards, of the heaviest sail
cloth in I'-' hours; and the inven
tor has stated that he would undertake
to do that quantity in less time.
Joiiihtil of Commerce.
Marine Populatioh. The ocpan
teem with life the class of polyp* alone
are conjectured by I.ainarck to be as
individual insects. Kvery tropical reef
is described as bristling wuti .'orals,
budding with sponges, and swarming
with ciustacen eohimi, and leMacea;
while almost pverv ti. It-washed rock is
carpeted with foci and studded coral
lines, actinia), and nmllusca. There
are innumerable forms ui the seas of
the warmer zones which have scarcely
begun to attract the alteulion of the
naturalists; and there are parasitic
animals. without numher, three or four
of which are sunn li
s appropriated
to one geuus, as to the Balirua, for
example. Even though we concede,
therefore, thai the geographical range
of marine species is more extensive
in general than that of the terrestrial
(the temperature of the sea being more
uniform, and the land impeding lest
the emigrations of the oceanic than
the ocean those ol the terrestrial), yet
we think it most probable that the
aquatic species far exceed in number
the inhabitants of the laud.LyelVs
Gcoloyy.

407

METEOROLOGICAL JOURNAL KEPT ON THE HUNASOIHIA

It AM; JO OF MOUNTAINS, AT AN ELEVATION OF
NEARLY 3,000 FEKT.
-000-

Range ot
Tber: at
Dat< S.BI

Rain IFal
iti 1 ot
ji.iu bji.n 1 laches 'dew
i

frevailing
IV iuds.

Pel

_
PREVAILING WEATHER.

U.U 62, 7-6V 67.

t. Ii 65 71 68

-.100 Do.

w.17 66

N.E. Cloudy with light showers.

vyhy Variable Cloudy with strong breeze.

.Do.

72

68

l,3G0Hv\

Variable Ooudy & squally with heajy rain.

T. 18 .63

?3

69

-1-

f. 19 64
1.20 63

72

69

-w

73

68

1
Hvj

Do.

72

68

Do.

Do.

Do. weather and wind.

72

69

Kvh.v

Do.

Cloudy with strong breeze.

I. 23' 64

73

69

-,500 Do.

Do.

Cloudy with showers p.m.

w.24 64

72 . 68

1,750 Hvy

Do.

Cloudy & heavy.

T.25 64

70 J 67

-.150 Do.

r.26 64

73 : 70

-lOSOvyhy

Dp.

Cloudy & heavy with light showers p.m.

s.27 61

74

70

S.23 63

73

70

M. 1 63

73

70

T. 2 64

73

70

w. 3 64

72

r>y

2,050 Do.

Do.
Cloudy and fine with do.
Variable 'Toudy & squally with strong breeze.
( Toudy & fine with strong breeze.

S.2I' 63

|
M.22 64

Do.

Heavy shower p.m.

Variable Fine & cloudy day, showery night

Variable Fine cloudy day & night. Strong breeze

Do.

Cloudy and fine vrith strong breeze.

Hvy

$.E.

Fine dry and clear weather.

Do.

North

Do.

Mar.

. 4 65

72

70

T-

Do.

Do.

V. 5 64

73

69

Po.

Do.

i. 6 64

72

69

- V

Do.

S. 7 64

73
70 j

M. 8 64

73

'Do.

2,- Hvy

Do. weather.

Strong breeze.

Variable Ijleavy rain day and night.

Fine cloudy day und night.
Do. weather.

Strong breeze,

Do,

Do.

N.E.

Fine cloudy day and night.

Variable Heavy rain day and night.

72

70 j
69

Do.

Do.

Fine cloudy weather.

W.1G 64

70

68

1,500 Do.

Do.

Fine a.m.

t. 11 65

70

68

r. 12 64

72

70

,- !Do

s. 13 65

73

70

1,050, Du

6.14 65

72 60
73 !68

t. SJ 64

M. 15 65

>,-

Bt,

Do.

-,500 Uo.

Max: 74 p
Total 13,150
Mill: 62
Tar; 12 |

North

Variable Fine a.m.

North
Do,

Heavy rain P.M.

tine &. cloudy a.m.

Do.

Fine uijjht

Showery p.m.
Do.

Do. A.M. Showers p.m.

Variable Fine a.m.

Light shower p.m.

W. A.

408

METEOROLOGICAL JOURNAL KEPT ON THE Bl!N*GIRI^

RANGE OF MOUNTAINS, AT AN ELEVATION QF
NEARLY 3,000 FEET.

- '

of
Ther : at

Rain Fall
in
Dal' fia.m Sp,.i ip.Ul inches

PREVAILING WEATHER.

nig
Winds

Mar.
65^ 74c 70o
f. 16
W.17 66 74 70
X. 18 6-5 74 70

N.E.
Do.

Fine dry and clear feather.

Variable Fine clear weather.

Do.

Do.

On.

Do.

Do. weather.
Fine & clear a. m. Cloudy r. ..

. 19 65

75

70

a. 80 6

74

70 1

Hvy

Variable Fine cloudy day and night.

8.2l' 65

73

69

Do.

69 1

Oo.

N.E. Fine clear, day and night.

Variable I loudy a.m. Showers P.M.

*.-?t

61 1 72

Heavy showers during day, fine night.

Do.

70

69

N.E. Fine clear day and night.

Do. i Variable Fine clear day, strong breeza.

70

Hvy

North. I

71

Do.

Do.

72

Do. ' Variable Cloudy with heavy showers r. Jt,

70

Do.

Do,

Fine dry and cloudy day.

7U

Dp.

Cloudy and heavy with light shower*.

68

Do.

Fine and cloudy a.m. Showery p.m.

70

Variable Heavy rain and squally.

Variable Heavy rain and squally.

North Fine cloudy weather.
N.N.E.

Do. weather light breeze.

North Fine cloudy weather.

N.E.

Fine dry cloudy weather.

Variable Fine dry and cloudy day and nigV.

North Fine dry day and night.
Variable Fine cloudy day and night.
Do.

Do. weather, strong breeze.

Variable Fine a.m. Heavy shower P.M.

North Fine 8c oloudy a.m. Heavy rain
Variable Fine a.m. Showers p.m.
North,

Fine a. m. Light shower, p. M.

Variable fiue dry and clear day.

N.N.E. J'ine A.M. Light shower p.m.

P.M.

't m )
DIARY KEPT IN THE VALE OF DOOMBERANEAR KANOt.
1841, \S)h March to the 22rf.The dry hot weather of last week has been
continued with moderate breere from the N. E. I'nt the atmosphere, instead
of being bright alid clear during the day as usual, has had a very heavy
appearance of a bluish colour, especially upon flooking Innards the hills.
1'liermometir Average. 13e rj a.m.-82c 2 P. u. 77 8 P. at.
Dew nearly every niiht more or less.
This week has been the first time the Coffee trees as well as all vegeta
ble matter has drooped from the effect, of the dry season the dew that fall*
at night however is sufhVient to keep up the health of the trees,; but aJJ pro
cess, of germination and growth is stopped for a time.
from 22nd March to 2P(A On the afternnon of the two first days in thr
week without any previous Warning of rain coming, heavy showers (ell about
4 P. m., on each day accompanied with much thunder and lightning, since
which the days have been, if any thing, better than before, without a cloud in
the heavens, with a prevailing dry Wind from the N. E. quarter which is very
parching in its effects.
The morning uioisty a good quantity Of dew evert night.
Thermometer nearly the
dle of the day.
The appearance of the
showers of ruin Which fell
som is beginning to shew

same as last week, always above 80 in the mid

Coffee trees has much improved from trie twe
in the beginning of the week and si general blos
itself.
,.'

From 29M March to April 5th. Cloudy, hoi, close weather every day
with wind variable, sometimes from S fa. slight rain twice in the weekj
Which has been sufficient to bring out a very strong blossom on the Coffee trees.
Thermometer Average. 73 6 a. M,82 - 2 P. M.78 8 p. M.
From April 5th to 12/n.Tire chnirH weather of the preceding week con
tinued in morning and evening ; during the day hot son niid a most dead
calms ; in afternutm breezes Springing up gently front the Si W. Hot and
close at night.
Thermometer nearly as last week with the1 exception of one or two days,
hen it rose at noon to 86. No rain all this time. The blnss. m on the
estates on this side, nearly general and lasting two or three days.
From April 12'A to \9th.The mornings during this week very foggy un
til about 8 a. M. in consequence of the showers which have fallen every
evening accompanied by heavy thunder storms and strong winds from the & W.
The, atmosphere close and oppressive all day.
Thermometer nearly as last week.
These rains have been very beneficial in setting the fruit Cem'nir oppor
tunely after the general blossoming of last week, and otherwise invigorating the
trees to meet the demands of the coming crop.
Operations. In the. early ami dry part of this month weeding, pn ning and
handling before the blossom appeared. Erecting buildings, &c. During the
last week the new estates have been opening boles, Working the ground, &c,
xeady for the removal of young plants for the coming rainy season.
The health of all these estates continue very good on thr whole: the na
tives appearing to sutler less from diseases dining the dry season than at the)
commencement of the rains.
11. u.

410 ]

ERRATA No. Vlf.

iAOB 293, Like 36.For " into falhm," read " into my father*.*
23.For " house,'' read " Aorie."
> 291
11. For " Aaitrf,"read " head."
297

5. For " number" read " murder."

300
31. F>r " my father," read "my dear father."
302
38.Dele " Edw.' Lines 37, 38, 39 and 40 are spoken by
303
n
Riickenmark.
304 ,,
6.Read an follows :-Car." Ob yes we have often 9ung it together."
iMic*." Indeed 1 I pity," &c. Sic.

No. Till.
PaOB

345, Like 43.For

349
6. For
352 ,,
17.For
n
25.For

" 1815," read " 1816."

"frebly" rend" feebly."
" bark," read " lark."
" Senetchui,", read " SeitMcAal."

CO LOM BO;

MINTED AT THE USB1XD PRESS.

ft$e

CEYLON MAGAZINE.
KTo. X.

June,

1641.

Vot. L

bUR MONTHLY GOSSIP.

W. Harrison Atssworth, of Vewgate-novel notoriety, has at length

put the finishing touch to his "Tower of London," and in good
Booth the manners of the London minor Theaties should present
the author, with a mark of their gratitude, a golden dagger or a
silver skull to wit, for having furnished ihem with materials for
at least a score of good legitimate melo-dramalic spectacles of the
Victor Hugo school, those who have read .lack Sheppard and
wish to peruse a second edition with a few regal actors in it,
with more of historical associations, hut less of historical truth ahout
itwhose sole delight is in scaffolds, trap-doors, racks, thumb
screws, draw-bridges, daggeis and darkness, should take this novel
addition to our JVationnl Literature and study its pleasing con
tents under the cool shade of the Penitentiary walls, in the dusk
Of evening, and if they do not rise from their task with a suffi
cient quantum of ...| y. murderous satisfaction, why then they
inust blame their want of taste and not the author's lack of zeal
in their service. To sober earnest, though, it is truly lamentable
to see a wiiler of Mr. A.'s acknowledged cleverness (we cannot
Bay talent) engaged in thus pampering the abendy vitiated taste
of a low, but we fear a numerous class of readers: equally lobe
lamented is it that .lure are so many who delight in the vile ex
citement of these intellectual opiaus.-this drunken, dungeon literature. The admirers ol Jack Sheppard must not condemn the plea-

[
sores of (lie gin-drinker, the

412

opium-eater, or

cntions: they ull alike seek a

the spectator of rite*

depraved excitement, theii fond it

the same though sewed up under different guises and in different

dishes.

Like regrets attend the present state of live British Stage,

It here Nature gives way to monstrosities, wit

to buffoonery :

the

author's pen is too often secondary to the painter's brush, and a new
play a mere vehicle for scenic effect.

If an allegory were required

to depict the condition of our Drama, we should represent Melpo

mene in chains and trampled on by a
half

I libbcrivsiibhel,

half Frankenstein :

grinning, grisly
the

monster,

Grnees flying from

the spot, and the remaining eight Muses weeping, at a distance, over
the lot of tin ir sister.
Speaking of Ainsworlh's novels brought ns to gin-drinkers and
opium-eaters, from which subject it is an easy
engrossing topic of Temperance, and

Mathew, the Catholic Water Prophet of Ireland.

able fact in the history of

transition

that reminds

ns

It is

to the

of Father
a remark

temperance, and one worthy of being

recorded, that the cuirsc has progressed

most

rapidly

and exten

sively in those countries where dram-drinking was most firmly and

universally established, namely, in America and Ireland.

In spite of

the Yankee sneer thai " water is ery good for navigation," sphildriukiug has been, and still is, most lapidly declining amongst that
people, and particularly with those engaged in " Navigation." There
are now but few American ships that carry spit it-rations, and if they
have not taken to water, they at any rate use only lea arid coffee
which are found from experience to fit the sailor far belter lor hard
work and hard weather than rum or brandy.

Il will be a novel

and pleasing si"hl to witness a Donnyhiook Fair without a single

drunken fight or quarrel in il, to

see whiskey-booths supplanted

bv coffee-stalls, anil the peasants trudging home at dusk, with new

garments and smiling laces, instead of wallowing hog-like, under the
Judges lill day-break, with latter'd clothes and broken heads.
it be nothing lol one
he not

disci vc R

man to have accomplished nil

niche in green Kim's

Will

this?

Does

temple of Fame'

Must

assuredly I .ulici Tllomas lias, in spite of the sneers and ridicule of

a u1

iress, done more lor Ireland's happiness

long muster-roll oi her departed pa-

^^^m

413 0

triots. We attribute the comparitive ill-success of Temperance in

England to the " Tea-tola llej 8," whose ultra ideas have disgusted
the sensible portion ol society. The cheap diffusion of sound, use
ful knowledge, and the great reduction in the taxes on such arti
cles a* coffee, cocoa, sugar, &c, have dine more for the causa
at home, than ten thousand lectures or volumes. It is a rather
curious spectacle in these present days, when Temperance i* ad
vocated by every statesman and minister, to see a Christian go
vernment consenting to derive a revenue ol 40,000 a-ycar from
a very trifling (ax on the sale ol Ariack, in one of her colonies,
where the use of spirits must, from the nature of the climate, be
for the mere purpose of administering to the brute-like appetites of
a heathen, ignoiant people, ami where Salt is taxed at about the rate of
J ,000 per cent. The Cingalese arrack-drinker has not the excuse
of cold and hunger whiih is put loitb by the European tippler.
And is it not an anomaly to iee portions of that same vice-got re
venue employed in endeavours to civilize and polish those lightly
taxed spirit-drinkers !
The railway accidents at home, so frequent oflate, have engaged
the attention of the public, and many diodands, one ol 2,000,
have been levied upou lailway carriages. Still fatalities do occur, and
scientific men are busy iti devising means for preventing them in fu
ture. We have read an account ol aningenious system of night-signals
for trains, invented by U. Hull, Esq. of the Eastern Counties Kailway. The signals consist ol two very strong lights, blue and red,
(the former culling for caution, the latter indicating danger,) one
of which is to be ignited by the guards on the trains, as requir
ed, and being thrown upon a powerful reflector so placed on the
engine chimney as to concentrate the light upon the engineer, it
immediately makes him aware of it, as the reflection is sufficiently
intense to wake him if asleep. '1 he light ma_\ be seen lor twelve
pules round. This is well. It is right that those who are the
means of the loss of life should be at the pains and cost of pre
vention. But we agiee with the " Times" in thinking there are
other accidents accompanied by sacrifice of human life, which should
filso have the attention of the humane. We allude to the many
(licudlul, though little talked of, accidents in Factories, by which

414

numberless young children are killed and wbich yet pats unheeded
because they seldom, if ever, appear in any but obscure country
prints. The railways, on the contrary, are before our eyes, and,
those who use them are of a respectable class, far loo respecta
ble to be maimed and smashed wish impunity hy careless engine*
men : so beavy detdands must be levied on the carriages. But
the sufferers by the Factory Engines are " the children of th
poor," and w ho cares for them ? " Not we, ' faith," say the cot-,
ton-spinners and paper-makers. "Not we," repeat the careful pub
lic. And "not we," echo the Legislature. So these slayers ol the
poor are suflircd to go on in reckless indifference, with no ver
dicts and deodouds to check them, their only care being that their
costly engines are not injured by the accidents, or their papei or
cotton soiled with the blood ol their infant victims.
The new penny stamps of the London Post Office have been the
subject of much criticism Loth nub regard to the cleverness of
their design una execution, and also to the protection they are
ljkely to afford against forgery. rlhese penny stamps receive a de
facing mark when passing through the post offices to prevent their
use for other letters. Our London correspondent makes us ncquaii.n
ted with a discovery by a friend, Mr. T. Watson, of a means of
taking out the post oftiic defacement and consequently leaving lie.
stamp fit for re-use. The discoverer submitted this to the Lords,
of the Treasury together with a new ink for delucing, which could
not by any possibility be obliterated without destroying ibe stamp :
their [.ordships awarded him one hundred guineas, but declined
the adoption of his ink on the plea that they were introducing a red
stamp into use, and that the red being a vegetable color, would fly
if any attempt were made to extract the post office defacement.
In a few days Mr. Watson again attended at the Treasury, and
informed their Lordships that he bad lomid a very simple method
of- fixing the vegetable color whilst the delaeing maik could be
easily taken out. We have reason to believe that Mr. W.'s very
uselul ink will eventually be brought into general use by the authorities.
Our neighbours of the Rhine and the Black Forest are not ona
whit behind ns in the lighter branches of literature, annuals and
almanacs for example,just us tbey outshine us in the number of

415

their Historical, Politic.!1, Theological and Educational works. If wt

re 10 take the translated extracts to be met with in our journals^
as fair samples of their thousand and one Annuals, why all ue can.
say is, that with such bricks the architects ought to rear sound and;
goodly edifices. Ii may be fairly opined that there is a greater de*
gree of solidity and boldness, and less ol the Haynes Baily, lackndbisical literature in the annual wril'ngs of the gcrmans than is.
to be met with in those on the hanks of the Thames. Vienna,
Ber'in, Prague and Leipsig that strong-hold of the Muses, hav.
each and all their own particular Annuals devoted to especial ob
jects, poetical, historical, anistical, musical, botanical and even medi
cal. Amongst i'i.'i] Editors and Conuibiuois we find such uaieg
es Ludwig Tieck, Ssauhtr, Fred. Von Raumer, Riickert, &c.
A few numbers of "The Malta Penny Magazine" have been put
ipto our hands, and we must express our pleasure at finding so
cheap, interesting and useful a periodical encouraged in that island.
It is printed in englisli, with good type and paper, of loyal octavo,
size, and contains four pages of letter-press with an occasional en^
graving of some interesting object. It is got up on a similai plan,
to it's London namesake, and contuins some very judicious gather*
ings fiotn standard woiks.
We have ever considered that the most effectual, and indeed the
only certain method of disseminating the great truths of the.
christian religion amongst the heathen, to be the diffusion of
sound practical knowledge blended with religious and moral pre
cepts and talcs, rather than by means of puiely "religions tracts."
We ate more than ever convinced of this since the publication of
the little Cingalese periodical, "The Lanka Nidhana." It has been,
everywhere most warmly received by the natives; the only complaint
we have heard about it being of the insufficiency of it's disliibution.
The natives in many parts of this island are loo poor to pay for
it's cost and postage ; others there are who have not the inclina
tion to purchase, but who would yet gludly read it were it to be
obtained tree ol cost. In a great number jof districts it is unknown,
except by accident, and the natives are ignoiant of the proper mode
of obtaining it. We are certain that a " Tract" of the like size and
cost would never have found a single purchaser -.\hieu is borne out

by the fact that Tract Societies always print their works for gratui*
tons circulation. We should be glad to see the Ceylon Church
Mission distributing a native periodical gratuitously, or at least at
some very trifling charge, say a pice. With it's resources, it's ca
pital and it's excellent printing establishment at Coita, it is well
calculated to undertake successfully a work of the kind ; and at no
time has the enlightenment of the natives been so loudly called
for as at the present, when it is well known that their priests are
Straining every nerve to obstruct the gieat work of conversion, and
civilization by means oj direlu! predictions and pretended superna
tural wurnings. Tin -it bigoted machinations must be Diet by mors
strenuous efforts on our part. It has occurred to us that Govern*,
ineut might materially assist the cause by allowing all small periodi
cals printed by Missionaries and in tbe native language to be trans*
putted by tappal free of all chaige. Most of the t appals to outStations (and it is there where the good seed should chiefly be sown)
are very light, and even were they not, a few papers might be lor*
warded daily until tln-y were all distributed. This would cost nothing'
and it were well worth the trial.
Amongst the most recent novelties in the literary world are the follow*
ing : The Dream of the Two Sisters, from Dante. By Thomas Moure.
Night and Morning, a novel, by Sir E. L. bvlicer. Henry of
Monmouih, or the Battle of Agincourl. By Major Michel. Home m
Scenes and Foreign Recollections. By Lady Chattcrton. The Seer.
By Leijh Hunt. The Civil History of the Jews, from Joshua to
Adrian. By the Rev. O. Cockayne. The Cardinal Virtues. By
Harriet iaitij.beil. The Hungarian Daughter, a Diumatic Poem.
By Geo. Stephens. Society Organised, an Allegory. By W. A.
G. Hake. Alda, the British Captive. By Aynet Strickland. Moca,
a Poem. By R. G. t'unninyhame. Klhelstan, or the Buttle of
Bruneubuig. By Q. Barley. The flay Uur Papers, or Brother Jonathan.

rffffnal CamsponBettth
TO TUB EDITOR OT THK CtTlOH M.'CAZIVE.

"THE CONDITION AND CHARACTER OF FEMALES IN HEATHfcK

AND MAHOMMEDAN COUNTRIES."
Sis,I have been induced to address this to you in consequence of having
met with a little American work bearing the above title, and contaiting some
dreadful, though I believe not overcharged, statements.

Ai it should be lbs

aim of every christian, as well as of every christian Journal, to eradicate '

errors and to soften and elevate the hitman character, I will hope that these
few lines may find insertion in your .liai/mine; should they but in one in
stance draw the attention of the pbilantrophic my pen will not uselessly have '
been taken up.
" It ia difficult," commences the above named work, " perhaps impossible^
to describe the wretchedness of heathen females, without wounding the feel
ings of the benevolent, or shocking the delicacy of the refined.
muat be told.

But the truth

'1 he remedy can never be applied, until the disease is known,

Tbe sympathy, evor anxious to relieve, cannot be felt before the misery ia
teen.

The charity that kindles at the tale of woe, can never act with ade

quate

efficacy, 'till it is made to see the pollution and guilt

now buried in the death-shades of heathenism.

ful the sigbt, shrink from the contemplation

of 6;>G,0(!0,000,

Shall we then, however pain

of their real state?

We shall

only see what they endure"

The book tinea on to shew that the heathen woman is despised, neglected
in her education, cansidered unworthy of an after life, not at he-" own dis
posal in marriage, and at any time capable of being divorced.
over a stranger to domestic

She is more

happiness, secluded from society and made to

perform the most servile hmis'hold duties.

In character, she is equally bank

rupt, being destitute of female delicacy or propriety, superstitious in the ex.

trcme, aud hesitate not to sacrifice their female offspring to gods of wood and
spine, or to expose them to be devoured by wild hensts and birds of prey."
After thus depicting them, the author emphatically says,
"CmuaTiiNs!

She

now appeals to you ; she points

her ignorance, her superstition; to her degraded

hopeless prospects
thrilling

for the

world to come; and pleads with yon, by these

motives, for the light

your charity, your benevolence.

yon enjoy.

She appeals to your sympathy,

She urges upon jroti the question, upon the

decision of which is pending her kappinen Jvr

81 te II TBI GospSX?"

to hor w'ekednesa,

condition in this life, ber

time and eternity, Win. you

418 )

It is bat too true that while so much lias been done towards enlightening
'mankind in general and converting the heathen, woman', degraded woman, has
Vemnined neglected and almost forgotten in her abject, condition.

Now and

then a voice has been laiaed, or an arm stretched out, but it has proved a
tnere drop in the ocean.

The late Miss Roberts commenced, just previous

to her lamented death, a series of papers on this suhject, but with her it fell
to the ground.

In this Island there are, it is tme, female schools at almost

every missionary station, " but whnt aro they among so

many !"

It ia im

possible to be long a dweller in this favored isle, where all is fair and " only
man is vile," without feeling most deeply the deplorable state of (he native
wnmen. It is my 6rm belief, as well as that of many others, and it has
been proved true in various countries, that the educated, christianized woman
is the most able and powerful iniscioiisry our religion can possess. Her
she has no influence because she is without mind, but niake her a bumnn:?ed
being, give her pure and refned v'-es end feelings, teach her those beauti
ful affections of the heart which nnertry her sct, instil into her the gentle
ness of Christianity, call back to her bosom the banished sympathies of wife,
mother, sister, friend, and she will rh"n triumph over the stubborn nature of
her master, Man, and make him like herself.
ber husband. should he he too deeply

Put should the wife fail with

imbued with the nature of his fore

fathers, there are her children; will she not mould thefn to her hwn heart?
Oh ! yes, she must, she will.
But how is this to he brought about?
heathen

woman ?

Her white sisters.

Who is to do nil this for the poor

The

Fng'ish females.

every one of our dwelling-houses herome schools ; every

T wonM have;

lady a missionary.

Cannot our wives and daughters devote one or two hours in each dav to the
education of a few poor girls in their vicinity?

Ts it ton nH\rh to *sk them

to sit for a short time in their vernri'lnhs during the morning, Snd teach the
native girls how to he some*1 ir.g like themselves?

Surelv

and yet how useful and gratifying vfnuld these labours be.

hot.

flew east

Our country. wO-

njCri have it in their power to become the instruments of India's regeneration and at no pecuniary cost, hut merely by the sacritice of a little of what
could not be better emplnved, time.
subject may

he

Once more expressing a hope that this

seriously considered,

particulaily by toy

countrywomen, t

subscribe myself
BR1TANNICU3.
P.. T am aware that a school was established in Colombo by the Fe
male Education Society at home, and which bus failed, because the founders
were ignorant of what they had to perform.

The native girls are too poor to

pay, even a trifle, fur education, and, if they be

nut, their parents look upoa,

it as a waste of inuu and muuey : but let tducation steal anmugst them jri

419

vutely and imperceptibly, and the cause will prosper. Hs who despises no!
any creature of his hands will prosper the work.

TO THE EDITOR OF TBI CEYLON MAGAZINE.

Sib, I read with much interest the letter from Mr. Macricarin your last,
npon " the cooling influence of a clear night." I have made some experiments
jn the neighbourhood of Kandy, with Thermometers exposed under various
aspects to the influence of the sky and I find the results corroborate the
Statements of Mr. Mac vicar. I first exposed a very accurate thermometer to
the direct rays of the sun at mid.day and found it rise to 130 and 135.
The same thermometer was placed on the same open spot on a fine cloud
less night and it fell to 50* whilst an equally good instrument placed on
the ground within six feet of the other, but under a verandah, sank no
lower than 60 . The next night being cloudy I again exposed my ther
mometers in similar situations and found that they stood at 64 and 62.
Should this be deemed worthy, please give it a place in your forthcoming
number.
An Up-oouhtby Subscriber.
N.B.Can your scientific correspondent tell me how to construct a cheap
and perfect instrument fur finding the quantity of dew falling ?

NATURE.
Would the young and the lowly be taught
By the loveliness breathing around ;
F.v'ry leaf with instruction is fraught,
Each stream hatb an eloquent sound.
The sweet leafy haunts of the bird,
The biook, in it's musical flow,
That in silv'ry cadence is heard,
With the music above and below.
The dark shady paths of the wood,
The peace of the cottager's home,
Amid trees that for ages have stood,
And the orchard's bright showers of bloom.
Would ye learn that their Maker is love.
That he stoops from his glorious throne,
Encircled by seraphs above,
To look on a world like our owa j
C 3

( 80

Ye may read in ihe page of the sky,

In the light of the suns and the sun,
"Pis his mercy that placed their, on high.
And gives them to shine as they run.
E. J. M.

IIFfi IN THE JUNGLE,

OR LETTERS ynOM A PLANTEh

to BIS COUSIN 111 LOMDOI.

To Joum Smith, Cbutchbd, Friams, Lohpon.

Colombo, April Iri, 1041.
Mr Deau Coumk. T have scarcely

a heart for

letter-writing just now,

but having promised to lei you know at least once a month, of my progress
in this, our adopted country, I uiust e'en to my task "itti what appetite f,
may."

I shall not attempt to give you an acconut of our voyage out, t!iougB>

perhaps my wife may.

We've not got rid of our

sea-sickness yet, and 1

often find myself holding on by the table at breakfast time.

of a iii.I v who

I once read

played a thunderstorm on the pianny, so beautiful

that she always and invariably

nat'ral

turned the milk in the cupboard sour, and

cousin 1 b'lieve It, for as soon as ever 1 begin to think over the semes and
the catnstropbs of our voyage, an

soon do I feel the motion of the ship

again, and then d'rertly arterwards Ihe nasty giddy qtialn ishness cornea
over me like a wet blanket. Our five n.onths at sea may be described in
a very few words, for it was a gale of wind one day, and a squall tha
next, and then another gale like the first, only worse.

I cau't help think

ing of the sailor's bill of fare in the story-book ; a biled piece of pork, and
a roast piece of pork, a pig's head, and another piece of pork, a pig's feet
ami brains, and pork sassiges.

So it was with us, blow, blow, blow, and

when the wind didn't squall the

children did.

Rat here

we are at last in

pile of my dying at least half a dozen time* at sea, and Mrs.

Brown

declare* solemnly that even if I make myself a Nabob twenty times over
he'll not go home until there's a good turnpike road, or a railway, right
slap from this to Tower Hill,the Borough wouldn't do.1
I dare say, now you'll bo wanting to know what like of * place this sams
Colombo Is, bat I just can't tell yon, for there's no such thing as moving
about to look at things, while the weather's so cruel hot as it is here.
f the dog days in

London!

Talk

Why, cousin, if they are dog days I should

like to know what these are,elephant days at least.

A sugar refiner's oiling

house in Whitecbapel would be quite comparatively cool and agreeable to Colombo

just now.

I'm expecting to see my thermometer bile over and bast every boar.

t *1 1
There's not* breath of air all the day long; not a drop ofrain, and all the treat look
regularly done up ; they won't move a twig or a leaf for love or money. Thw
(ligbts are as bad and there's no sicb thing at sleeping any hows. You'll
nr how pale this writing it, well, itt all owing to the beat, for the perapU
ration runt down my . fingers on to the pen and regularly waters the ink.
Oh ! Smith what would I give for a good deep mud-bath in the eity Canal,
or for a few hours nap in one of them nice, dark, cool cellars in Upper Thames
street, where the wHgtin wbeelt roll over yonr bead like peals of thunder and,
where the light of the sun never enters but for few minutes at twelve
o'clock on midsummer day.
At present we are living, or rather dying, in a place most improperly
called a " Kest House," lor what with the heat, the mutquitoes, the black
servants, and the comers in and goers out, we get no rest at all. After
spending a restless, sleepiest night, I rise to suffer from otber torments.
From day-break to sun-set our verandah and sitting-room are literally rraramed with native dealers in all sorts of jimcrackery. They are as impudent,
rich and roguish as our Wbitechapel jews, only tbey toll a lie with far
greater assurance. After all I think I would rather he cheated by one of
these Moorish gentlemen than by a nasty dirty jew: it's some consolation
too, to have paid your money to an ebony Arab with eighteen yards of
muslin round his head,, set with precious stones ; besides who knows but
tome of them may be the descendants of the far famed Haroun Al Rat*
chid ! Returning from a stroll by the sea-side, a morning ago, I found my
Wife in ihe midst of about twenty of these turban'd gentry who had accouimo.
dated her, to the tune of twenty odd pounds, with a whole waggon full
of curiosities and nick-nacks. I was
excessively disgusted at this,
but the Arabs were so very civil, that I paid them without grumbling and
begged them to keep the change. Here's a list of the principal of Mrs. B's bar.
gains : five work-boxes and dressing-dittos, of various sizes, eight ebony and
cinnamon walking sticks, a pair of Elephants tusks, a monkey, two tortoises,
a stuffed snake (these of course, are not to be met with in the jungle) a
case of shells, a gross of ivory studs, twelve pairs of color'd slippers, nine
straw hats, four ivory paper knives, three ebony letter-holders, a work-table,
a dozen fans, four bundles of peacock's feather, eighteen jars of sweet
meats and a quantity of precious stones, the latter bou^h very cbeap. All
these have to go into the jungle, a distance of about one hundred miles!
ii a country too where there are no railways or waggons, but where the
roads are along the brinks of precipices aod the carts of the size of workhouse
wheel-barrows, drawn by bullocks not larger than full-grown tom-cats ! !
Had I a mind to amuse you, I might write a whole chapter of disgusts
With the things and people of this island, but it would only vex me. The
most ridiculous custom I've met with it that of calling servants, /><<;.-, no
matter what their age or size may be. 1 remember how astonished 1 wjm

422

on landing, to bear our captain address what I thought an elderly native kh

grey locks, "Boy."

Well, thinks J, if that grey -beard is a boy, I should just

like to tee one of your old men, that's what I should.

Patience is at a discoont in India, and I who left the land of Cockaigne,
e perfect Job in temper, and now a very JezVbel's son.

I don't know which

js the most vexatious and annoying, the) musquitoes, the heat or the servants.
I am inclined to give the palm to the latter.

Yon've no idea, rousin, what

a rascally set they are: what with their laziness, their impudence, their lying
and stealing, they are very pests.

There ought to be a mission sent out ex

pressly for the conversion of native servants to honesty and industry.

I dont

think there's anything so vexatious as a servant who has an inperfect know,

ledge of English.

One who could not speak a word would be far better, fur

I should either make him understand me by signs, or thrnngh an interpre

ter.

But

with the former, not knowing how much English he is acquainted

with, I am never sure if he understands what I am telling him

Fancy my

annoyance the other day, when, after spending full ten minutes in cautioning
my boy not to be again absent

without leave under pain of dismissal, the

rascal grinned like a drunken hyena and said " yes, sir."
annihilated him.

I felt I could hare

The worst of it is that the blockheads never say they don't

understand you, but prefer blunders and thrashings.

It was only this mom

ing that I read the same " boy" a lecture about my

clothes, and told him

(hey were wretchedly washed; the rascal grinned again and said "very well,
air;" and when I asked him

if he understand me, he said "I not know."

I think uothing of asking for a light and getting a knife, or of sending my

servant to buy some article of dress, and getting for my money an immense
basket of fruit.
We have been
meat is
ditto.

much disappointed with the living in this country.

abominable, tougb as

leather and

about as

Poultry very small, but sometimes good.

able thing, we are warnsd against as unsafe.

flavorless.

The

Vegetables

Fruit, which is the only eat

A pineapple reminds me of a

cholera hospital! Curry is about the best thing after all, for it doesn't require
much labour to eatand it can be made from almost any thing, only they make it se
everlasting hot, that I can't take a glass of nine for a quarter of an hour after it,
Mrs. B. is very busy trying to learn the language.

Our servant hired a

teacher for her, but when be came I found lie could not speak a word of
English, so we bad to pay another man t > interpret what the
and that makes it rather slow work.

My time is mostly

over my list of tools, &c, and iu reading books on

thing seems simple enough with plenty of money.

Coffee

teacher said,

spent in looking
Planting.

The

Nothing like golden tools.

My agent had my land surveyed and paid for before my arrival, so that I
shall go to work in a week or two.

From what I hear, I calculate we mutt

rough it a bit at first, for there's not a town within twenty-five miles of our
location, and no road for five or six miles of the way.

As X said U Mrs' B.

[ 3 ]
last night, whatever shall *e do with the children until our house is builti
" Ah!" says she, "to be sure, what indeed!

Why, we shall have 'm run

away with by elephants, or serpent*, or some other wild animals." And when
1 looked round the room and saw the work-hoses, auj ||:e peacocks feathers,
and the monkey a pulling off the head of the stuffed snake, my heart sank
within me.

A planter's life is no joke after all, coiusin Smith, depend on it,

particularly when yon have two small children ami a wife who

has a taste

for curiosities and nick-nacks.

April 6th.

My agent

has informed me that 50 coolies are hired.

have all received a part of their pay in

They

advance and are ready to start at

a day's notice, so hey ! for the jungle, and adieu to this furnace of a place,
this stew-pan of humanity !

I had an advertisement in the local papers

here for a superintendant, and this morning

about thirty

their appearance, English, Portuguese and native.

candidates made

According to their own rc

counts, they were each and all perfect masters of the art of Coffee and Sugar
Planting, and those engaging tbem

would be certain to

able fortune under their able guidance.

My agent,

realize a consider

however, thought other

wise, and put a few home questions to them, which brought out the truth, that
they knew nothing at all, practically, having been nearly all cU-rka dismissed
from government employ.

I was highly incensed at learning this, hut

assured me that they knew quite as much, and

most f the " gentlemen planters" who were managing large estates.
however, we picked up a man who had been in

they

were fully as competent as

charge of some

At last,
Cinnamon

laud, who understood some Singhalese, a little Malabar and still less English.
He was a little dry Portuguese fellow, with a knowing look and a ready tongue and
as he brought a good character I

at once engaged him.

Cousin, I am sure, if you saw this little monkey in

You would laugh.

trousers, and were told

that his name was Leonardus Francisco Ludwig Tronck !

" Heavens ! what a name
To fill the speaking trump of future fame !"
We have been debating as to which of his names will be most convenient
for common use.

I voted for Francis, but

my wife persists in calling him

Mr. Trunk, and so Mr. Trunk it must be.

I And I shall require a little in the medical line, which nevtr struck me
before.
at first,

But my friend

here tells me that Jungle Fever

must be expected

and indeed he says that the land would not be considered good if

no cases of fever were to occur.

It's rather a pleasant prospect, truly, par

ticularly as he assures me that my land is most excellent.

So pray, Smith,

send mo out by the first ship sailing, half a hundred weight of Quinine and
two pipes of Port Wine, for I hear that is the best thing to take it in.

Re

collect that delay on your part may lose me all my coolies, not to mention
Mrs. I), and the children.

424

Since writing the above I've had a terrible shock.

My wife came running

In from the next room, in a dreadful state of excitement, reminding me

the tragedy

lady at

Richardson's show.

do you think!"so says I, "what

" Oh ! Sam,"

do you mean

said

she,

of

" what

by thinking!""what do

you think has happened!"Happened!" said I, "why I suppose that infer*

Hal monkey has been and choked the babby, or thrown one of the tortoises
at Jemmy's head." " No,- no," replied Mrs. B., " it's neither, it's the toggery
from the ship; come and see" Well, while I was a thinking if it could be
the musquitoes that bad eat 'em, or my gunpowder that had ignited and burnt
'em all, I got to the room, and there sure enough was the things.

Would

you believe it that the rascally sea-water had got in and spoilt everything of
consequence of our clothes.

There aint a single thing left fit for wear.

There's

all my shalley and figured satin-waistcoats regularly done up!

At least two

dozens of satin cravats of all colors; silk stockings without end.

Some dozen

of Mrs. B's. silk and sarsnet dresses.

The children's embroidery frocks and

their velvet caps with gold tassels, that stood me in fourteen shillings a piece,
and lastly, all my fancy ducks that couldn't have cost less than one and twenty
shillings each !

But there's no help for it.

be done out of my guinea ducks

However I'm determined not to

and my satin waistcoats, and as I can't

come upon Lloyds, or the captain, or government, for their value, and

cant

go to church in 'em, I'm resolved to wear 'em out in the jungle and plant
coffee in 'em out of spite.
April 9th I've just arranged to start for the hills the day after to-morrow
by the mail-coach : so as there's lots of jiincrackery to be packed up I don't
think you'll get any more from me just at present.
you when we're up in the interior.

However I'll not forget

And if we're not walked off by wild beasts,

or birds of prey, or fever, before the next sbip sails, why the chances art
that 1 may give you a description of our journey up.

We both send regards

to all in London, and believe me,

Your affectionate, tho' distant, Cousin,
SAMPSON BROWN.

RECOLLECTIONS

GOVERNMENT EMISSARY:

COMPILED BY TBI EDITOR.

CHAP. V.
Disaffection. Violent measure* of the Sidmouth Administration.
Riots of 1817.
The Tower assaulted. Fliyht and Cap
ture of Thistlewood. His releast from the Tower. Cur
rency and Coining, an anecdote.
The year 1817 was the harbinger of much anxiety to the Bri
tish Government though, 1 hesitate nol to say it, most needlessly
so. Of all the Tory Governments the Sidmnmh one was undoubt
edly the most tyrannical. Giltcd with ho ordinary talents ; deeply
imbued with a hatred of all libera) institutions, and a correspond
ing veneration for all the ancient types and forms ol a monatehial
constitution, Lord Sidmomh could not brook the idea ol yielding
to the popular riots, and mated the complaints and murmurings
wbith were now Decerning louder and more frequent, with silent
acorn or bitter moektry. The French Revolution had been dreaded,
but it was now forgotten with the bloody lessons it bad read. Peace
was re-established. there was nothing to fear from external ene
mies, and the haughty statesmun determined in the bitterness of
his heart, to bow down to the dust the liberal spirit of the day,
which was being so Irequently and so signiticiantly manifested.
As a justification of his measures, dangerous societies were de
nounced by the minister, as existing all over the country : secret
committees of both Houses were formed, whose proceedings were
cloaked with the deepest mystery. Their result was only known
to the nation by the suspension of the constitution, which was ef
fected early in the sessions of 1817. That numerous meetings were
held all over the country at which violent and often seditious lan
guage was used, cannot be doubted, but certainly not of such a
nature as to warrant the suspension ol the Hebeas Corpus act. On the
contrary it was the importance which the ministry attached to these
assemblies which stirred up others to embark in the same cause,
either Irom sympathy or a foolish emulation. Had government ac
ted firmly in the first instance there ran be no doubt that the rio
tous acts of this and the two following years would never have
taken place ; but instead of arresting the ringleaders the moment they
received information of their secret meetings which would have gnashed
the thing in the bud, they contented themselves with watching their

t 426 ]
jnovemenis by means of spies who loo often on their part, rather
belped to inflame the minds of the disaffected. \\ hether the go
vernment spies thus incited them at the suggestion of their supe
riors can only be known to theaiselves> but certain it is that iheir
conduct was never blamed.
My first knowledge of what wits going on in 1817 was in May
when I was summoned, to attend Lord Sidnronth at the Home Office.
The minister explained the nature of the services required of me,
which was not only to watch the movements of the rioters, but also
ol the government agents, and to report upon their fidelity. I must
confess I did not much like the job, but what was to be done?
I dare not refuse a man who held my lortunes at his disposal': a
frown fioip him would have ruined me. There was to be a meeting
held by the people but it was not known with certainty when or
where, and I was requested to find this out. I set about my work
in good earnest and a hard and difficult task I had to perform;
but alter overcoming many obstacles I got iiurodiicvd to one of the
secret committees. I was just in time to learn that a great public
meeting was to be held on the morrow at Spa Fields, and also that
the afterwards noted Arthur Thisllewood and Doctor Watson vApre
to take the lead at it. I gleaned something about an attack on the
J i a 1 1 k and the Tower, but there was so much secrecy observed that
I could learn no particulars. When I told His Lordship oi the
hiiemled attacks he laughed at the bare idea of such a thing, and
said that the Bow Stieel officers would look after them. Whether
or not he really despised the mohs or whether he wished them to
commit some treasonable act, I know not, but certain it is no
measures were taken beyond ordering the Police officers to be in
readiness to ucl.
At an eaily hour the next day the streets in the vicinity of
Islington and C'lerkenwell were crowded with groups of mechanics
and disorderly persons, some of whom were evidently interested in
what was going on, but great numbers flocked together fiorii mere
curiosity and in the hopes of plunder. Spa Fields was the ren
dezvous and when I reached it the streets leading thereto were almost
impassable from the thousands who crowded them. I found it im
possible to get near the speakers and was content to learn what was
going on from those around me. Doctor Watson had been speak
ing for some time and Thisllewood was then in the act of address
ing the rioteis. He appeared to be but an indifferent speaker: the
doctor on the contrary possessed some powers of language, and evi
dently made a strong impression upon those around. There seemed
to be but one belief abroad, that some violent step was to be
taken, but what it was no one appeared to know. After Thisllewood
had spoken, a man of colour, one Davidson, addressed the multi
tude and lastly a butcher named lugs. The latter was a most fe
rocious looking being and would have done honor to the sans-culottes.
I could but contrast him with Thisllewood who was of a rather
mild demeanour and certainly iho most respectable of any of the

r 7 ]
leaders. At the concls;on of lugs' speech there were loud shout*,
id cries of "To the Tower!" "To the Bunk!" "Burn the Pa
lace1" Some cried out lor "Alius" others shouted "T<> the Bar
racks X" hile a lew would have marched to assault the Tower uud
the Bank just as they were, unarmed. Al the fust indication of
these intentions, I posted off by couch to Lord Sidinoiiih who, strange
to say, received my intelligence with perfect indiHcrciicc. He told,
ni'- to make my way to I he Tower and Bank, give them notice of
the riot?, and then quietly watch the mob, aid 1 ling my report to
him. Mis coolness was aftel wards itcconntid for, when ] lc mid
that he had leceived notice of the intended proceedings at least a
Week helore Irom his own secret agents. I posted off", as desired,
and gave the alarm lo the city authorities: in a very short time
every shop was closed and every street neatly deserted by passeugeis. In the distance, westward, was heard the loud yelling and
huzzaing of the approaching rioters, while eastward not a sound
was distinguishable save of hammers, holts and bars. It appeared
th-it the moh, to the nuinlrcr ol at least thirty thousand, had been
divided under different leaders. A portion under Davidson and lugs
inarched upon the Horse Guards where they were soon dispersed:
others, led on by Thistlewood, paid a visit to the Bank and the
Mansion House, while the thiid division with Dr. Watson and his
son, marched in battle array towards the Tower. With the hulk
of the iimb plunder was the chief object, for as is usual on these
occasions a vast number of thieves were amongst them and these
incited the rest to all m inner of outrages. M.riv windows were
broken and several houses were entered and pillaged, hut the greatest
outrage was perpetrated in the Mi in lies at n Gunsmith's shop.
The moh hud entered it and were seizing all tin- weapons they
could lay hands on, when the proprietor and a gentleman who had
taken re Inge there from the crowd, attempted to expostulate with
them, and to save some of the arms: one of the rioters gave the
cenilrinaii a blow on ih- chest which he unthinkingly returned, and young
Watson, who was leading on the moh in the shop, stepped up to
him uud plunged an indian dagger into his side, up to ttie hilt.
The blow was fatal and th>* stranger lell dead at Watson's feel, who im
mediately decamped us did all the rest.
The greatest en,>r'ision was reign'nff in the Tihit, for no notice
had been given before T arrived, of the tumuli. When the Iiord
Mayor sent to the officer on duty lor military aid to put down the
disturbances in the streets, it was refused, for the few troops that
Were there were all iuvdids and not capable of meeting a numer
ous body of rioters. The latter, therefore, had it all their own wav
for some hours, stealing or destroying whatever thev came across, until
company of Dragoons from the Horse Guards, n a lc their ap
pearance swnid-in-hand, and prill* soon chared the streets of them,
A good number were apprehend' d, but thev were mostly thieves
and vagabonds; the real actors in the day's proceedings got clear
D 8

428

off, though great exertions were made to seize some of the leaders
saore especially the Watson*.
; Fur a long time the Police were endeavouring to lav hold
of Thisflewood and the mints, but in Vain : young Watson
escaped to America fearful of the ctmscqui nets of his deed,
lind there was every reason to believe that most of the
Others were about to
follow him.
A
m<>mh
passed and
still no an i sis took place, at length I was again sent for by
Lord Siilnioiilh uho requested (hut I would use my endeavours to
sprnre Thisilewood.
I went to work, and not being a marked
man as every Bow-street ofticct was, found :i cine to his hiding
place, through some of his friends. I gathered that he wns concealed
ni a small larm-honse at days m K.ssex, neat the liver, ready
for embarkation in an American ship. To l-ave attempted an arrest
there would have been useless, for the mere uppearanit <>t stran
gers in so retired a village would have put him on bis guard nnd
frustrated our plans.
I therefore proceeded to Ciiatvsend, fur I
knew he would emhafk somewhere ihere-ahouts, and concerted a
8Ian with the commander of llie King's searching vessel hiving
lere, which I Ml confident would ensure fny object. I weni oil
board several ships hound to New York with emigrants, which I
gearehtd under pretence of seeing that fin machinery was being
carried out of the country, such being prohibited. Al last I lound
in one of the ships a female and her little bov with a *ood deal
of luggage of a description much superior to their apparent cir
cumstances, nnd I learnt lti.il the hnshaiid wns to come on board
just below the town of firaveseiid. I lelt confident that this was
the man 1 wanted, and wailed anxiously lor him to come off, low
tiling about the ship in conversation wilh some of the emigrants.
Al length a boat was seen to pull ofl from lire Ksscx side ol the
river, Containing one individual in a kind of miller's dress
J
surveyed biin very closely as he came alongside, and allho* I
fell that this must he ihe man, anil had so olteu hull in his com
pany, yet I could not take upon myself to swiar that I was right,
mi well vvas he disguised. He had cut his hair close off nnd shav
ed away his whiskeis. and in place ol his usual genteel dress, had
on nn old broad-brimmed while hat, corduroy iroiiseis and grey
millers coat and waistcoat. Accoiding to the ph.n previously cufcrlcd, 1 told him thai it was necessary he should he rcgisteied
in the list ol emigrants, and that 1 had sent away the register: it
wns therefore necessary for him in accompany me lo ihe King's
cutter anil there sign his linuie. lie complained of the trnnbla
nin! delay, Inn nliinianlv went with me. 1 took him on lion id
and we wenl below into ihe armoury where I had several ol the
new ready l assisl in his capture, lot I knew that he went armed
and was a powerful man. In order to make sine that there was
no mistake I had a very old acquaintance of Thistle wood's who
]cnew his person well, in an adjoining labin, with a small hole to
peep through, and in lire event ol my hriugitig the right man he
was to ring a small bell, ui.d we were at ibul moment lo throw

429

ourselves upon and secure our prisoner. I gave. Thistlewood or

lules and orders to rend llint my assistant might i-i a good view
of him, und not be flmthd ; accordingly, while he was in the net
pi signing his name in (lie emigrant list, 1 heard the signal of
all being right, und locking round to see if my men were in
readiness, J threw myself upon him with my arms around ''is
body. In a moment lie was overpowerd and pinioned, and it was
well he was so, for his hand was already upon a small, sharp dag
ger in his bosom und in ihe side pockets of his ample coal we
found a brace of dnnlije barrell'd pistols loaded to ihe mouth',
Jlis rage upon finding himself a prisoner exceeded all bounds, and
be regretted that mv quickness had prevented him giving me a
taste of cold steel. When he was well secured with handcuff's and
a guard placed over hint, 1 went on shore in order to obtain as*
'lislaiice I loin the Mayor to conduct him to London by the ni-ht
Coach. Rut that worthy personage declined interfering with a state
prisoner and It-It nic to look alter hint as I best could. As ihe
Safest menus, I got the captain of ihe cutter to lend me his barge
with eight hands to pull her, and after sending lor Airs. "I"liis>llewood and lot child li<". the ship and lauding ihcni, 1 made a
Itait lor London. I left Gravescnd at 6 P. M- with eight capital
oarsmen and a coxswain, Mv prisoner was laid down in the boiloin of ihe bout and well secured.
It was a beautiful moonlight
flight and the tide *vas in our favour, so that with a rest at the
hall-way house in Long Reach, we got to London Bridge at midnight,
I took him mi to Westminster and there gave hi in over to ihe
Bow-street officers \yho were in attendance a,l the Home office, I
altel wards paid him a visit in the X""'?' and had a long chat
'Villi liim. lie tried very hard to find out who my informant had
"been as to his leaving the kingdom, wh.ieh I did not think fil to
tell hiiu. Me was very anxious lo know il any ol his companions
jSud been arrested, and whether young Watson had got out of ihe
country. Dr. Watson and Davidson were the only two who were
in custody, and their trial" was fast approaching. I told him this,
and he s-inl that il he were uicd and hung, my Hie would not be
worth a !;u;inii^, tor he had plenty ol friends in- ihe country and
they would be certain lo have ill) life for his.
.,
He, however, was not tried tkix time, but got off" only to re
ceive a greater punishment two yeais alierwards.
Watson was
tried, but acquitted thiough the over Zealousness of Castles, the
Government spy who had certainly gone much further than his
duly should have allowed him ; the oilier prisoners were released
as the ministry did not wish, tor any further exposure ol the vil
lainy ol some ol their tools.
A week after Thistlewood was at liberty, I got a letter from him
telling me that I might go about without leijr, for that I should
Hot be touched, as he hud escaped. He added, also, that he meant
to give me more work by and bye, but that next time he would
uol be taken quite so easily. 1 kept the letter as a, cariosity ui.d

[ 0 1
bnre it to this day.
We shall see *.httricr Lis pit dictions
Verified.
In ihe same year a circnmslnncc occurred which shewed in ft
curious way tlie depreciiiled suite of li. turret u-y ol hi mice, as
Well as the poverty ol' the Fundi Gomnuiciit. Minis. De P.
the Gallic minister in London, vailed on the II cine Secretary and
requested his aid in a certain case of coining, u inch lie siiui' was
being carried on to a great extent. A contractor ol sexual public buildings
in Paris vus then paying his workmen with . hall-It nnc i.nd Irunc
pieces made ut Birmingham ol brass, and ashed with silver, and
he wanted the British Govirnmcni to inn Hue and prevent tba
exportation ol them. Lord S. icplicd ibat he bad no such power,
but would nevertheless put a slop to the thing somt bow il he tould
find out the makers and shippers. N'-l biing able to learn that,
I was sent lor and requested to trace the panics. I confess] set about
the task with some reluctance, lor I li.nl not I'urgoUcu the " coacbmnn's son;" however in the end 1 went to woik, ai.d alter a
fortnight of spy inn and peeping, hit upon mi old house in Bel*
ton Street, Long Acre, which proved to he the receiving bouse
for the base money previous to us being shipped. I ihue loiind
-twenty -seven battels of brass pieces ol limits and ball francs :
they were very well made mid might have ckceivtd a prailistd eye.
When we curoe to enquire into ih extent ol ibis trade at Bir
mingham', the murder tame out, and to, we loimd itial in .tiiei.se ije.m
titles ol the same coins bad been n ade aiiu exported to the older
of the French Government ! 'Jbiy lid lun paying tbeii troops
&c, with them lor some time, m.il nothing was said, but n ben, a
speculative contractor got a hint of it and lolloued their example,
the case was altered, and the currency was to be prolcchU. 'Ills
twenty seven battels weie seized and destroyed, hut l be hieneh mi
nister received a bint that his Government had heller make ill
Own coin lor ibe I mure.

TO TBI EDITOR OF THE CETI.CK MAGAZINE.

- Sib, Should the accorrpauyhig translation from Ihe Italian of one of Al"
fieri'* select tragedies appear lo you, to fall within tho range of ohjects
aimed at, in }our interesting publication, you are entirely al liberty to limn
er it to your ce.lun.vns. It has been made in the pursuit of literary acquire
ments, aud its publication therefore may in some small degree subserve lb*
cause of literary taste and application. The distinguished author of the ori
ginal has handled a very difficult subject with wonderful |>oer, delicacy,
and. addreas. The prosaic form of my Knglish version and its being more
over as literal a rendering of (lie original as I could make it, lessens ia
some degree its attractions to the general reader, and obscures even to lb*
snore cloae observer the spirit and expression of ihe original. Some glimpses
however, of these occasionally break forth, even thiukgh those disadvantage*

431

which, at the same time in not effect the general character of the tragedy
at an effort of geuius, iu depicting the working of dark and malignant pas
sions.
I am, Sir,
lour'* obediently,
May 1841.

S. '

'

PHILIP A TRAGEDY.
The AliGUMENT.
Thekb is nothing in history which is reported in a greater
variety of ways, than what, relates lo ilie iliitucnr ol Philip 2nd
of Spain, and the lot tunes ol Prince t harks. Lis unhappy sou by
bis first wile, Mi ry , daughter ol John 3d ul Poland.
Among these various traditions, the iitiibor of this Tragedy lias
nuclei taken to paint 1 bilip sutb as not a Ittv writers ticiuaUy des
cribe him, suspicions, ferocious and sungnitiary in a wind tbe Ti
berius of Spam But as lor (. Laths (ol win in marly till tbe
historians say very little good) he has thought it itecrwary lo be
stow upon him, many endowments and virttus which be did not
possess Still leaving him however some delicts and crin.es, which
sic generally attributed lo him, such as hivotiring the people ol
the low countries in their rebellion against his father and ihe be
ing enamoured of Philip's third wile Elizabeth or Isabella of'France,
dataller ol Henry 2d, who had been at first actually betrothed to
C Liiles, but afterwards wedded to 1'hilip.
Thus also the Poet has thought himself privileged to adopt lb*
opinion ol si me, that ( harles was put to death by his Father
and he has I'irlher of his own pleasure, ciusiil IsuUlla to expire
ml the same time with Charles, though it is certain that she sur
vived linn many mouths, and died afterwards (at least sutAt
is the belief of many) a natural death.
Philip afterwards married a fourth wife, Anna, daughter of iha
emperor Maximilian the 2d, by whom he had Philip 3d who suc
ceeded in in ou tile ill roue.
His second wife hail been Mary, daughter of Henry
King of England, by whom be had no issue.

the 8th,

PSRSOKH HElItESENTED.
Philip

the 2n

King of Spain.

Isabella

The

Chahlks

His t oy a former marriage.

Queen.

(io.M ks
Pr.RKS

, .

Lkonakdu
Councillors,Guards.

42

EfllLIP Act the First.

SCENE THB FlKST.

Scene. The Royal Palace at Madrid.

hnhfljii. Flora wishes, fears, doubts, and guilty hopes, be. my
breast now liail !
Do I, the faithless consort of Philip dare to love the son of Philip, t
But who ran behold him and not line' him ! a brave and gentie heart! a noble haughtiness ! a sublime genius and under a
giacclul aspect, the most accomplished ni'nd ! Ah! why haih na
ture and Heaven n^ade thee thus! All me! VMmt a in l sayiiTg !
Is it thus I am enaeavomipg to pluck out his sweet image
froni niv inmost breast ! ()! il'such a pussion should he ever d(vnlged 10 mortal! O ! it he were to suspect it \ He sees me eveV
ad it is true, but he sec* that I avoid his presence, and be knows
that all joyousness is hanisUed Irom ike Spanish Court. W ho rivu
read into inv heart ? Ah might I be as little able to penetrate it
ms others are ! Might I thus deceive and fly lium myself, as from
olheii ? --iJnhappy me ! No solace remains U> me but tears and to
shed them is a ciime. Bui let ine carry my sorrow to the inmost
apartments ; There more freely
What do 1 behold ! ! Charles,'
All, let me escape him ! My every word and look may bctiay uis !
O Heaven let me escape him ! !

SCENE2d.
i
Charles & Isabella.
Carles, O. / what do I behold ! '.and what ! O Queen/Dost
thou loo avoid me ! dost thou loo fly Irom a man unhappy and op
pressed ?
Xnabtlla. O Prince...,.
i
CAiir. My father's court is ^1 know) unfriendly to roe;' what
wonder is it if I read haired, malice, and vile, ill-disguised envy
jm.priutcd upon every countenance, 1, who am. obnoxious to ihje dis
pleasure ol my lather, and master P I5u.l thou, bom under a less, ri
gorous sky and with heart not yet corrupted beneath the influence
of cruel airs prevailing here ; shall 1 believe Unit under so sweetly
majestic an aspect thou harbourcst a soul averse to pily.
\ta. 'I'lioii knowest the life 1 lead within these doors. The
usages, stttlu^e to nie, (if an austere court, have not j'el entirely
expelled Irom inv mind that sweet first love of natal soil which
U so | low ei nil within us !
1 know the trouble, and the unmerited wrongs which thou ndurest ; and, 1 commiserate ihee /

[ 4S3 1
'Char. Dost ihon commiserate me? O jov ! now hehn'd; such
Word lial.li spriliLli'J with sweet oblivion sill my c.aic; and I loo,
participate in thy giief and 1 frequently lay aside my trouble, and
bt- wiiil iliy hard fule and would that **#***!
. ha. I hope I shall have a less Hard ha in lime; mj ills are
not to be compared to thine; grief so severe thou should si not then
bay el
, Char.Does my commiseration off* ml thee, when thine is lile to

m?
Isa. Thou estecmest at too high a fate my Commiseration !
_C7tr. At too high? Ah! what snyest ihon ? and what nhajl
flection is there which equals or exceeds the suit emotion of pity
which every geneious heart experiences in itself; which is able to
repair the outrages of fortune, and does no] allow any to l>e longer
called unhappy who bring to their common gt id's the solace of com*
mon teal's.
/ia. What dost thon say ? yes! pity for thee! Rut O Heaven!
surely 1 am not a stepmother to thee! 1 might venture to
speak to the enraged Father lor the innocent son, thou shouid'st
see! * *
Char. And who dare so much ! and if ever thon shouid'st dure,
it becora.eth thee O hard necessity ! thou alone though innocent, nr
die occasion of my calamities still nothing in my lavor fioui thee!
I*a. I the occasion of your trouble ?
Char. Yes, my troubles have commencement altogether from that
wretched day on which thou wast at once betrothed to me and
snatched away.
J$a.Alas what do you call to mind ! that lope was too transient!
j Char. In me it grew with mv years, the belter pail of me;
rnv father nourished it, yes that lather whom it afterwards pleased
to break the solemn bonds.

IuuWell:
Char.Subject and son of on absolute lord, I suffered, I was
silent, 1. lamented hut internally; his wi.'l was a law to n.y i!l,
he became thy husband and how much I have Wn loin tilted in
keeping silence and obeying, who can know like mysell ! I- nun gucU
virtue (and it was virtue and more than human) I wnt proud
in heart, and at ihe same lime sad; 1 kept my serious duties al
ways fixed belore my eyes, and il I was ever criminal even in
thought, Heaven knows which sees the most inmost thoughts; I
passed the days and long nights in lamentations; and to what piny
~pse? Haired of me increases in my fallal's mind, as much a*
rief in my own.
_
,
Jta.-r- Hatred is not conceived in l|ic heal t, of a I at her, , believe it,
w--biri Mispieii n cVvlainly :'lhe crowd of. cum tiers which ban -ih thejs
nd is so much the more provoked "by Qiy cou'tcoipt, as tticy 'are

434

deserving of it, possibly has instilled suspicion within ibe paternal

bosom.
[Char. Ah' tbon knowest not what a fa I her I have, and would tp
heaven that thou hiayesl never know 'I lion know est not the irilumoui
windings of an impious court: an upright lit art CMiliol believe
or even imagine it mote cruel than oil the cruel ones he has around
him. Philip is be who bales me, he gives ibe rule to ibis servile
ciowd, he, if even he perceives himsc-ll lo he a lather, is llius ex*
asperated. 1 however coniiol therefore forget that 1 am bis soli, hut
il 1 sliould one day lorget it and give u loose rein lo repressed coin*
plaints he should never hear me grieve, jiii never, cither far honor
snatched 1'iom me, nor for fame injured, nor for bis own unnatural
and unheard of paiefnal hatred J 1 should grieve lor another loss!
he took every thing nway from me the day he look thee.
lta. Prince! Rememberest thou so little that he is th/ lather and
lord ! !
Char. Ah! excuse the involuntary burst of a heart so full till
Sow I have never .been able lo open to tbee niy whole heart !
, Jta.Thou should 'st not open it to me, not to heur * * ,*.
Char. Stop thee! alas, if ihou hnst heard a part of my misfor
tune, hear it all, it relieves hie lo speak.
. iia. Ah! be silent, leave me!
Char. Alas! I shall say no more, but O bow much thea re
mains for me lo speak, a last hope * * *
lta. And what hopes hast thou which are not criminal in thee!
Char. The hope that thou dost not bate me!
lta. I ought to hate thee and thou knowest it, if thou daiesjt
to love me!
Char. Hate me then ! Accuse me thyself before thy consort
Jta. Me present thy name belore the King !
Char. Dost thou bold me so guilty ?
Jta.Art thou alone guilty ?
' Char. Art thou too theiefore (guilty) in heait ?
ha. Ah what do I say ! Wot; is me, either I have said too
much, or others hast understood lno much ! Think alas ! who
I am ! Think who thou an ! We should deserve ibe auger of
the King. I should hearken lo thee, and thou should*! persist !
Char. Ah ! if thine heiut were consumed us mine is, and pines
away, didst thou behold the beloved object a thousand limes a
day, in anolhei 's arms, thou wouldst call il but a vi uial error lo
keep following the lust good ; to Iced the eyes, and desire occa
sionally as I do, the blief innocent indulgence ol a few words to
a distressed heart !
Jta. Fly, iilas ! and forsake these fatal halls so long as 1 breathe,
and may that be lor but a short time.

435

Char.Oh Heaven, mid ran T thus withdraw myself from my

father ? III concerted flight would be a fresh fault in me, and my
father already imputes too many laiilts to me. The only instance
in which I am guilty, he knows not at all.
ha. --Would that I knew not.
Char. If in this I have offended thee, thon shall have rcveng*
and soon. Leave me in these halls, if grief should not load me to
death, the hatred, and rancour of a father will conduct me thither ;
a father who hath sworn in his heart of blood, my death ? in
this horiible palace (dear however to me sincu it lodgeth thee),
ah ! suffer me to breathe out my life near thee.
ha. Ah prospect ; as Inns' as thou remainest here, T fear too
much for theea voice portending thy sad fate sounds in my
bosom ; hearken, this is the first and at once the last proof of
love which I ask from thee ; if thou lovest me, withdraw thy
self from thy cruel father.
Char. Oh Lady 1 it is a thin;; impossible.
. ha. Tieave me then nv.v, m >re than before. Vis ; preserve
my fame untouched, and at the same time preserve thine own,
clear thvself thus of the fake crimes of which envious rage ac
cuses thee. Live, I com ivind the-, live : mav my virtue remain un
impaired wiih thee, my thoughts, my heart, and mv soul in
spite of myself are with thee; but of mv footsteps lose the traces,
and cause that I shall not hear thee ever more hitherto Heaven
only is witness of the fault, may it be hidden entirely from the
wnild, may it be hidden from us, and pluck out the recollection
of it even from thy heart
if thou canst.
Char. Will thon not hear me ever more' {While he wishes
fo follow her, she absolutely forbid* him.)

RCF.NK

lit.

Charles.
Char. Ah wretched me
Oh, day Does she thus leave me ! Oh,
my barbarous fate. I ant happy and miserable at the same time.

SCBNE IV.

Charles and Peres.

Peres.J am in seanh of thee, my Lord. Rnt Oh Heaven, where
fore art thou so perturbed ; Oh what can it he ? Thon art as it
were,' beside thyself. Ah speak thou shall have me as a par*. a

436

tirr of tbv grief. Prt art tlion si'ent t Did J rot pro* nf ny
tliy side from ihy u-ndercst years? Hast lliou not always name<f
nie a Iriend ?
Clmr. And darest thnn in ibis palace, titter surb a name, a name
alwwts proscrihtd Sij ihp impious conn although il is daily beard
Here. To ihi-e lalal. To me use'ess. 'I liv fidelity is liow out of
place, yield, yield to the torrent, and do thou also follow the fickle crowd
and to the sovereign idol present with it guinlnl incense and
vows.
Pnes.Alas. Do not thns slight fne. Pistirptiisb nie frnrn the
doreillnl crowd. But what avails it my swearing fidelity here here,
where every one swears and betrays it. Put my heart and hand
to a more ship test, s/ey what danger von wish nie 10 encounter
for thee, where is the enemy most obnoxious to thee? Speak.
C/'flr. 1 have no other enemy lh:>n my father, since 1 have
not the wish (nor ought I) to honor his vile people with such a
name. To nay father I oppose silence; to the test contempt.
. Pern. But the king does not know the truth, an nt reasonable
displeasure against thee is kitdhd in bun, and others pniposely
exasperate it. 1 shall be the first to tell it him plainly lor thee.
t'Anr. What say est thou Peres? The king knows the tnilb
much more than you imagine, he hales it rather than is ignorant
of it. Nor does he pay attention to any voice in my favor.
"Petes. Ah it is the force of nature that he should hear it !
Chat. He has closed his impenetrable iron heart. I/eave mjr
defence to innocence and Heaven, which sometimes vouchsafes to
bestow upon, innocence a hmigo regard.
Were I guilty thnn
art the only pel son whom 1 would not disdain as an intercessor)
what greatei proof of my friendship can I afford ibee *
I'erex.
of thy destiny ("and may it be such as thnn wisfeest)
make me a partner; so much I desire, and no mwre what other
honorable burden remains in this horrible palace '
Clmt. Rut are you ignorant that my destiny, whatever it ssajr
be, cannot he happy. .
Vrtfs. I am thy friend, not thine equal ! ah, if indeed it be.
true that divided grief is lessened thou shall have me as an inseparuble companion of ihy every sorrow !
Vhnr. Such gii"f is enclosed within my heart as brings me to
death, deep grief which is no\eitholess prec.ions. Ah * alas is it sneb
that I cannot disclose it to thee ? ah in>, 1 do not seek, nor is
there a more generous friend than thee, and to give ihee a true
proof of friendship in opening lo thee my heart. Oh, Heaven, I can
not ! go now, what hast limn gained from so great ami so il)
placed a confidence ! I do not deserve it ; again I repeat it to lbe
leave me,you know not the atrocious gmli which it is to keep
faith. vmiIi a man towards whom hi* king rani us hatred.

437

Veres.*But thon Innwcst not what glory It is o keep it des

pite ol cviTv king ! In doubling me, thou piercest, though thou,
cmisi not change my heart ! dost thu hide within thy breast a
deadly sorrow whiih thou canst not tell me. 1 by no means wish
to know il, bin il 1 ask tints and wish, that thy grief should
bring Die to die with ibee, eonklst thou cruelly deny it me ?
(barirs, dost thou wish il ' then here is tny unlucky hand !
] give thee as a pledge ol inauspicious friendship. 1 commiserate
Ihee ! but I shall no longer at any lime complain ol w>/ desti
ny or ol' Heaven, which has been thus liberal to me in so choice
a Iviend. O Philip how much am I less unhappy than ibee,
tii'iu url deserving ol pity railiev than of envy, in ihe midst ol
vain pumps and false adulation, thou bast never known sacred Iricnd-

ship.

ACT THE SECOND.

ICKKK THE FIKST.

Philip and Gomes.

PA//.What thing. Gomes, above all oihers in the world, doit
thou prize?
Gomes. Thy favour.
PAi/. What means dost thou reckon upon for preserving it?
Gomes. Those same means by which I obtained it obeying tl.ee
ml being silent,
Tkil.This day, then, you must do both one and the other.
Gomes. Il is no new charge lu meThou knuwesl ibal I
P/7.-^l know that up to the present moment thou hast been
the most trusty among ruy confidants ; but upon this day, in which
) am revolving in my mind a vast project, |iciha)S in con.
fiding lo ihee so important and new a charge, 1 should first bring
to yoiu remembrance in a lew words that your duty has given me
satisfaction.
Gomes, ibis day the great Philip will be able to know me even
better.
VA;7.That which I exact of thee now, may be easy; and to
tbee alone it can be easy: not so lo any olhei person ilicquteii
conies here in a lew moments, and you will hear me converse with
her at some length during the time, observe and mark even the
smallest movements of her countenance, lis upon her thy penetral.
lug gaze such as that by which thou k nowest how to read often
even the hidden wish in ihe most secret bieast of thy king, and
siusuilv to execute il.

438 ]

SCENE THE SECOND.

Philip, hitlella and Gome*.

Ita.T hnve come, sire, for thy commands.
Vhil.Oh Queen ! an important reason has willed that I should
call lliee.
Lsa. Oh what!
Phil. rIhou shall soon hear! can I hop* from thee? But what
doubt is tlieie, who better than (In sell' may give me sincere and
impartial counsel ?
lsa. I to counsel thee?
Vhil.Yea. 1 value ihine opinion more than any other person's;
and if (up to the piesent linn ) thou hast not divided with me th
care of my empire, thou shouldcst not ascribe it tidier to the little
affection ol thy consort, or to the least waul of confidence on the
part of thy king wily 1 have ever wishtd to withdraw thee totally
from cares ol siate loo serious lot thy sex; but to my misfortune,
the day has now aimed lliul 1 see a case arise wherein aie mingled
with reasons ol slate, laniily reasons also, to such a degiee, that (lion
should'st he my principal adviser. But previous to my speaking,
1 would wish to lieai Hum thee whither lliuu legaidest as uiore awlul,
venerable and sacred, die name ol father, or dial ol king '
lsa. They are both equally sailed, and who knows not
that
. Phil. Such an one pcthaps, such an one as ought to know
it better, than any one else. Bui tell me also belore I narrate
the (act and tell me the truth my son Charles, dost thou love
or hate him ?
lsa. My Lord !
PAi/.Well 1 already understand thee; if yon attend to the
affections ol thy heart, and not the voice of ihy virtue, thou feel*
est thai thou ail his siep-niuiuer.
lsa. Ah no, thou deceivesi thyself; the prince
Phil. He it dear to ihee then! and thou hast therefore in
thee so much virtue, that being the spouse of Philip thou lovest
notwithstanding the sou of Philip with a iove
maleiual!
1m. Thou alone art the standard to my tr-oi gliis 1 ion lovest
him, ot at least 1 believe so, and in like manner I also U.ve.
Phil. Since there is not contained, then, within thy kit.dly and
great heart the temper of a step-mother, nor feelest thou the blind
affection of a mother, I wish thee to be judge ol my sou hear
me Charles was, for many years the only object of all my
hopes; previous to the time when
wit'hdiawing his feet

439 1

from the path of virtue, lie deceived mv high expectations. Oh hotr

many limes since have 1 solicit within myself paternal excuses
for tin- repented (nulls of my intractable son. Bui now his rash
and I ran tit audacity has reached, to-day, it's highest point, and I
m compelled to employ much more violent measures; a crime of
such magnitude is superadded to his other so glial delinquencies;
one in comparison lo which all the otheis are nothing ; such as all
that I can say fails to express : he has done outrages lo me which
have no equal ; such winch a faiher never expects from a son ;
such as make him to be no longer a son in my eyes. But what,
even thou thystll ; (and before ihou knowest it loo) art thou hor
rified ? Hear it then, aiid be horrified in quite a different way.
Thou knowest that lor ulieady more than five years that poor and
miserable population of a marshy tract upon the sunken border of
the sea has dared lo attempt an opposition to my power, no less
rebels to God than to their own ling ; making ol one breach of
faith the pretext lor another] thou knowest how much gold and
sweat and blood this war has been continually costing this empire
to no purpose ; but should it cost me both throne and life, I will
not suffer ibis vile race to go <xn audaciously nor unpunished for
their atrocious crime s 1 swear to sacrifice this impious people aa
a victim to Heaven ; and despite of them they shall learn how lo
die, since they cannot know how to obey : now who would believe it,
that with such ferocious and cruel enemies, my sou, iny only sua
alas, would have joined !
Jxa. Is it the pjince P
Phil.The prince, yesj m.any intercepted letters and clandestine
messages, and his openly insolent seditious language, make me much
loo sure of il ah ! think for thyself what may be the condition of
a betrayed king and an unhappy father! and what late may
await (by just right) so guilty a son: do ihou declare for meP
Is. Unhappy me! post thou desire that I m the fate of
thy son '
P
PA/7.Yes, thou art now the arbiircss of it ; Thou should est
neither fear the king nar flatter the latherPronounce !
l.'.Y!. I lear nothing but lest I should offend against what is just;
hetore the throne the innocent and guilty are often confounded to
gether.
PA/7, But canst thou doubt concerning that of which the King
assures thee ! who can wish him not guilty more than I do ? alas!
to charge him lalsely with an unheard ol crime!
Jsa. Hast thou ihen yet convicted him of il?
PhilAh who could ever convince him fierce and prond he
disdains meeting clear proofs, I will not say with reasons, but even
with pretences. I should not be trilling to speak to him of his new
treason if 1 liml nul previously commuted in my breast the indig
nation of my first passion: but cold reasou of slate (although re

440

(eminent is entirely silent) it not stilled within me

Heaven, but 1 slill hear ibe toice ol a inthcr viiliin me

1 Qfc

I*/f. Ah hearken to it 1 It is a voice which nothing- equals;

perhaps, he is less criminal !-i-It even appeals impossible tbat he
should lie ciiiniual in ibis instance: but (such as be may be) beat
liiiu ihyself to-day. Become an intercessor lor a son with a lather
who can be so bellei lor a sen P Though he should have beeii oc
casionally banality - i i li persons not Iriendly to truth, with thee
be will certainly not be haughty ; lend In him thine eat, and open
thine heart, to sweet paternal affection; thou never callest him to
thee and never showest bim favor; he is always tilled with mingled,
dread il he approaches thee iiid in mi obstinate fatal silences
distrust inert ascs and love is lcssmcd. Do thou arouse his original
virtue in bim. Though, it should In even dormant in linn, yet
fxtinet it cuutiot he in one who is thy son. Do not cooiidf to others
thy paternal cares. Show to bim (he rontiiciiance ol a lather and.
maintain towards all others I he austere majesty ot ihe king. What
may not be won by generous means Irom a gi neroiis heart? Does
lie seem gniltv ol some laull to ibee, (mid who does not err) do
thou in private show to bim alien he is alone with thy sell the justice
of thy resentment. The resentment of a father is mild, what son
HOlwithstai diug can help trembling at il ' A single word ol thine,
the word if a true parent, is hettei fitted to auuken iu bis noble
hnast remorse, and to leave there less ol rancour, than one hundred
spoken by olheis with malignity and ol set harshness and violence,
J.et your whole comt hear that you love mid esteem your son, and
rcgardesl bis y outliliU unieiilv as claiming at oure coivection and
indtilgeiici ; and yon will suddenly hear jbe court resound in every
dir.eii.in with bis praises. I link Irom thine heart suspicions not
natural to ihce. The base apprehension of infamous ireasoti leave la
bings who deserve lu be betrayed.
Vhil.This is a work worthy of thee and of thee alone. Il
Wakes the father's heart attend to the cry of nature. Ah ! others
cannot <l so! Oh sad late ol kings, to whom it is, not allowed^
1 nil not say to follow the affections ol their own beans, but even
to ack ;: wl . urc them ; acknowledge! what do 1 say? not even to
name them; most olten to deny aud to conceal them; but the
time is coming when we shall utter their dictates free aud uuicser,
ved. Thy words make every thing clear to me, much more than
thou thiiikest: ah ! the prince appeals innocent to me, since thou
lelievcsl him lunoceul! domes, lei him come lather wulioul delay.

SCENE THB THIRD

Philip and Isabella.

Vhil.Now thou shall see that I still know how to show mysell a lather to him better than 1 should be uble to do it ut m.\

t 44i y
time I should have to show myself to him in the majesty of ait
offended Sovereign.
1m. I will believe thee; out he comes. Permit toe to withdraw
to some other pla<-e.
PA if. Rather do thou retoaln here.
Isi.---I have dared lo lav open my thoughts before thee, bemuse
thon wishedst it, why should I now remain ? Besides, a step-mother'
Is a vain witness between a father and a son.
. Phil- Vain! ah thou dcreivesl thyself, thou art to me a neces*
iary witness heie: thou hast only the name of a stip-moiher, and
even that name ihou inavest forget. 'I'hy presence inav he grate*
fnl to htm. So here he is. Li't him perceive that thou art the
urety of Lis exalted virtue, ol bis lidelily and ol his lure.

SCENE THK FOCRfB.

Philip, Isabella, Charles and Gomes.

Phil.'Draw near* Oh Prince : say now when shall the day he ill
which I Can accost thee by the sweet name of son ? Fn me thou
tnayest have ever seen mixed (would that thou corresponded theretoJ
the names of father and king -hm why at least hast thou not
loved the faibei and feared the king !
Char. SireThis mortal reproof is new to me, notwithstanding
Ijiy having often heard it. To be sileut is not therefore strange tc
meif 1 appear guilty to thee. 1 am cetiainly guilty, 'line it i
that 1 have not ielt any remorse in niv heart but profound grief,
that you consider me guilty ah, would to God that I might know
the true occasion of my mislurtune, or (if it pleases you belter)
toy fault !
Phil.The having so little affection for the country, none for
thy father, and the hearkening too much to artful flatterers. Seek
no other reason fur your faults.
.
Char. I am pleased nt least that thou hnst not asetibed it to a
naturally perverse disposition in me. I may thus, in some degree, re
pair the past, learn how my eoiintry is, how it is loved, how much I
ought to lone a father; and the means of putting away those flat
terers who plot against thee more than against me in proportion as
your power is greater than mine.
Phil. Thou art a youth, yet it may be discovered thai in heart,
in acts, in countenance you presume not a little be\ nl what yon
ought. 1 should have regarded it as a fault of youth n thee, but
I perceive that as years roll on, thv discretion lessens instead of
inct eases. Thy error ol to-day I would name a youthful fault, al
though perhaps thou bast showed aged malice.

[ 442 >
, Cfyr.Error!

But of what kind?

PAty- And dost ikon ask it? art thou ignorant that T know evett
thy thoughts, not merely thy incautious acts, hut ihv thoughts, yea,
thy mist hidden thoughts
Queen, thou seesl that not the being.
guilty luu the not leeling himself to be guilty makes it worse id
him. i
Chtfr.Father / lead me to an end of doubling : what now have
I donje f
Phil. Hast thon so many crimes that now thou dost not know1
of which I am speaking? Heafken-^-There where she most sedi
lions forge of impious error boils, hast thou not secret plots ?
within my palace, by stealth, before the rising of the day hast thon
riot given n long and criminal audience to (he orator of the rebeU
liens Batavians, to that wicked person who, if you credit his uords,
comes for mercy, but in bis heart carries perfidy and the hope of
unpunished treason ?
Char.Oh Father ! and shall it he that every least act ol mine is
thus imputed to crime ? It is true that t spake to the orator at
some lengthit is true 1 bewailed with him the destiny of these
thy subjects, that however I should dare to do in thy presence: nor
perhaps Moulds! thou thyself be fur from bewailing it if it was fully
known to yon, the iron rule tinder which thy subjects groan for
so many years, oppressed by ministers cruel, avaricious, timid, inex
perienced and unpunished. 1 feel in my heart pity for their cala*
mities and by no means deny ii ; and wolildst thou, that I, I'hilip's son, should have a soul vulgar, cruel, base'' In me the dope
of opening again thy heart to pity by telling thee the whole truth,
has been perhaps too dating todny<but how should I offend a
father in supposing him susceptible of compassion, if thou ait a
true image upon earth of the Kuler of Heaven, what makes thee
resemble Him if it he not pityl? however, if I appear to thee or am
guilty in this matter, thou art the so:e an aider of my punishment*
I ask no other thing from thee, only not to be named a traitor ! !
Phil.-' All thy words breathe a noble pride hut thon canst ill
penetrate the reasons of thy king, nor shouldst thou therefore; there
18 occasion for thee to restrain the ardour in thy youth1 ill breast
and the bold impudent wish of giving advice masked, of displaying
thy opinion as if il were a gieat judgment. 1 1 it be destined
that the world shall one day see thee and venerate thee upon the
greatest of ull the many thrones of Kurope
Leant thou to !>e
cautious. The presumption may be pleasing in tliee now, from
whence thou wouldsl then derive no slight Itlume. It entirely ap
pears to me that it is time for thee to change thy style, thou
hast sought compassion in roe and thou hast found it. but only
for thysell ! not all ate worthy ol it ! Allow me to be the sole
judge of my own business. The Queen has spoken to me before
at length in thy favor, and she has not spoken to me without
effect and she thinks thee no less worthy of my affection than of
her owu ! thou owesl thy pardon to Let inure than to me, to her !

f 448 ]
In the meantime- it pleases me to hope that henceforward from to
day thou wilt know how to value bet.er, and to deserve belter my
favor. Tiioo sees! madam that I resign myself to thee and that
from thee I learn not only to excuse, but to love dearly my son.

Isa.Sir !
Phil. I owe it thee and to thee"alone, for thee I have this day
subdued my indignation, and in the sweui tones of a father have
chid my son may I never have occasion to lepent of itOson!
Hot to disappoint her hope consider ever to make thyself still moia
agreeable -to her and thou O ! Queen in order that he may ever
more advance from good to better, the more frequently see him and
speak to him and direct him aud do thou lisleu to her without
aVoiding her ! !
Char. O how painful to me is the name of pardon ! but now
since I have had to accept it from my fnthe-. and thou madam
to obtain it for me, all .' may my destiny which is my only crime
never more make me descend to snrh humiliation ! !
Phil. Hold it the greater humiliation not in obtaining pardon
but in having occasion for it^from thy father But enough already.
Go take account of ray words Re:;:rn forthwith O! Queen to thy
apartments Thou shall see me there in a short timeat present
I owe some few moments to other weighty concerns.

8CESE THE FIFTH.

Philip and Gum**.

Phil Hast thou^hcaid?
Comes. I have heard.
Phil.Hast thou seen '
Gor/iM.I saw.
Phil. O wantoness! Is he then suspected?
domes. It is quite a certainty.
PAii'. And is Philip still uiirevenged ?
<?Me*.-i-Consider.
Phil.1 have consideredFollow me.
BM> OP ACT THE HECOSD.

10

444 J

THE POLE'S LAMENT.

My heart is sad, for I am far

From where my home and Kindred are!
Yes, I have led far, far behind,
The green graves where my sires are sleeping,
In battle lall'n, by glory slmiied,
Around whose bones their sons are weening.
Not vainly has their blood been shed,
Twill mark the path for more to tread,
Who like themselves all tyrants hate,
Mayhap to meet a better fate!
Bin should they Hot, and should they fall
In freedom's cause, their virtues all
Will shine in History's future pages,
Amidst the blood and dust ol ages.
There was a time my home's gteen sod,
By none hut freemen's feet was trod.
Then proudly shone each warrior's eye.
To see the banner waive on high,
. Of his loved conn try, from some lower
Of Warsaw's walls. Oh! happy hour!
But those bright days have fled away.
Like sunshine on an April day:
They have not even left the glow.
Which passing sunbeams leave below.
For all is darkness, and the coM
Of slavery's winter chills the bold.
Our laws are wiped out with the gore
Of Poland's Princes now no more;
Fallen belore a despot's rage.
When History filled her ihuken'd page,
Willi our wild deeds, our suffering years.
She half effaced them with her tears,
To see her favoiite in the dust.
Many the tyrant helped-, bnt rurst
Be he who- linked the fellers firsl !
If ought could wake the sleeping dead,
The cries of woe above their head,
Would cull their bones- to life again.
To rise and break the tyrant's chain.
Yes, they are dead lo all but fame.
Nor feel, nor know their children's shame.
They do Rot see ihe Russian sit
Around the hearths where once were lit
The ever-blazing, peaceful (ires,
Of them and their long race of sires.

445

They know not that iho foe's red hand

Has fiercely stamp'd the redder brand
Ol bondage, or! each Polish brow,
Which their cold mercy spared till now.
The}' do not see the C'ossaque wild,
Aye, worse than kill their children's child,
Save when the lather's trusty knife
Preserves what is more piized than life.
They do not hear the foe's proud boasts,
They do not hear their scoffing toasts,
They do not hear each drunken yell,
Sounding Hke revelry from Hell ;
Oh ! then they hear not Poland's knell !
None dare to name the patriot dead,
Some solace for their grid to boriow;
For there it is a crime to shed,
Ojic secret, silent teal of sorrow.
Britain, I lovj thee, for thy smile
Hum cb.ccr d a wand'rer on his way,
And lit his footsteps to thine isle
Whose white dill's know no tyrant's sway.
I love tliy flow'ry lulls and meads,
Thy lordly sons, mid hrigbt-eyed daughters,
Thy many heroes whose great deeds
Have made thee mistress of the waters.
I love to see thy proud flag waive
O'er the pure marble ol the biave;
1 love to see the white stone tell
Of hearts that lo.ed their country well.
Yes, next to mine, 1 love thy land,
For thou hast stretched a kindly b;md
Towards the friendless, homeless Pole,
"J'hou'st warjned bis heart and cheei'd his soul;
Yes, thou art generous, well we kjiuw
Thou hast a halm lor every woe.
Whoe'er the sullerer thou ait near,
To wipe away affliction's tear!
And if the life thou can'sl not save,
At least thou givest a peaceful grave.
Oh ! (hat our foe thy hand could feel,
For it can strike as well as heal.
Yet, if it does not 1 will rest
Where pity shelters most and best
And when death comes I'll in t repine,
But lay me down at Freedom's shrine;
And my last feeble words shall be,
That Freedom's Pilgrim blesses thee!
Ed. C. M,

REMARKS ON THE CULTIVATON

tBE 6CBAB CASE 18 TUB ISLAND Or CEYLOH, BT JOB1AS 2.AMSEU ESC|. *. *.*

At a period when public atuniioii is directed to this important

branch ol Agriculture, in a Ctlony, which hem its tvi, aid clU
mate ofl'ers all the advantages tliat jiotsriily can he retjitiitd lor
its complete devclopcmcni; 1 am indict d to ofitr in liuiheionce
of its extension, n few observations which n r.y assist these will:-,
out practical knowledge, i<iid ensibie others who have a desire to
embark in sugar, plantations lo do so with n decree of confidence
satisfactory to theii views regarding expenditure and pit ha Me re
sults and in presenting niy&ell with these objects, it becomes me
only to observe; that what follows is the result of nearly fifteen
yeais of practical experience in the ciilu.ie til the cane a. d n.i.i.ufacuire ol its products, in ihe isouth ol Fi.ioj c under a tenia) ol 4
per acre per annum with free labor und with an average produce
of 4,500 tbs. Haw Sugar per acre.
Accustomed to observe the nature of the soils best adapted to the
culture of ihc cane and from a close examination ol the bullc and
Dtombera districts, together with ninny otheis, J am !.<! in the con
clusion that very lew spots in ibis Island wl.ee iniguiioii is piacticable, or where depth ol soil and leteliliunoi ol n t.lsi.ue, is
evident, can there be nny probability of failure. It has frequently
been objected that chena lands mid paddy (it Ids pieiionsly ex,
hausled by cropping, have lost dun virtue, and from a mistaken
notion it it believed that nothing but virgin forest iund is uoaiiy
of consideration; tl.e mistake licit- made, must be obvious to any
agriculturist, who is well awaie that dtps ol different giuina may
in succession be grown on the the same land, rupturing only once
in four, five or six years of the rotation, a lallow, or the interval of
a green crop with manure or absolute repose in grass ; consequent
ly there can be no leasou in condemning a piete ol chena land
because ten years previously it has borne a crop of paddy ! it Ik-.b
had ten years rest, has been covered by grass or perhaps the jun
gle may have sprung upon it; these do not exhaust, nor iurt the
sun (another subject of apprehension) have had any influence be
cause it has never been exposed ; the paddy fields have been con
stantly under ciops, but the nourishment required for this grain
is ostensibly derived from water, and even were it not so, that
which is extracted from the soil lor g:ain, is according lo all re
ceived views upon agriculture, totally different from that necessary
for the production of roots or canes, and without entering i"io the
argument upon the propoitious of sdex, ahimine, live and vegetable
moulds which are generally required lor the production of certain
grain corps it is sufficiently proved by experience that wheat, grass,
oats, turnips, barle/, beans and wheal may be successive)* grown
and the land kept in beau. Why then, may it be asked, is tbtt

t "7 1
eternal paddy to be the bugbear of eveiy operation in tie Islnpd f
end why are llie natives or holders of paddy fields so short sighted
end so obstinately apposed to I ring tinder sugar cultivation those
grounds which in paddy, yield with excessive labor and watching.
in their present suite, barely a subsistence ? ilaliit and ignorance
can be the only motives lor the error, to which may be added on
the part of large holders of these descriptions of land, their uncer
tainty of the results. \n the case of paddy grounds there can be
no doubt, in proof of which 1 would instance the lands of
Demerara and many others of alluvial soil and which have
been constantly overflowed during their continuous occupation
as sugar grounds, and the Deltas, in the south of Spain,
which have cat vied the plant without intermission, save the year
of replanting at the end of seven, and even eleven years, for
the extended period of seven hundred.
The chena or hill
grounds falling towards the rivers in ibis Island are may ol them
Capable of being brought undei aiiifiiial watering during the dry;
season, and the majority from their extreme tidiness and tena
city of subsoil are sufficiently retentive to hold moisture for the
preservation ol the cane in ihe same period, from the commence
ment of February to the pn sent moment J have not seen a can*
differing from drought and I have known ninety days elapse in
another country without ruin or a possibility ol iriigation, with
the thermometer at a medium range ol fc2 c and vet, the canes,
subject to such ostensible hazard, have produced a superior quality
of sugar, although qiiiinmy was deficient; excessive moistuie on
the contrary is productive of greater e\ils; it is baldly possible to
prevent the cane throwing out new shoots along its whole length
at particular seasons, cspvciiuly if it has not been planted from
cututgs of a determined growth; the flower, or arrow, shoots in Oc
tober from ihose planted loo early, and belorc tin y have attained
maturity, and when the ctop time occurs, which ought to be a fixed'
eviod, these canes are loi.ind in their second deve-lopcmeul com-'
iniug a portion ol sapjuice with the saccharine, reducing of course'
the quantity of the latter, and deteriorating the quality of the
augur produced. Such is llie feracity ol the soil iti this Island,
01 such is the naluie of the atmosphere, thnt in many instances
the cane ought to be checked rather tliun stimulated in its growth.
Under these encumstances, it cannot admit of doubt that a proper
Season lor planting once fixed no question can exist us to ptoduce, and experience ol the operations already commenced affords
sufficient proof of the value of quality obtained. This period it
would seem should be, from the middle ol April in the middle of
May in the Knndy country, previous to the selling in of the rains,
having previously taken rare to break up ihe laud whilst it still re
tained moisture from the pi creeling rainy season, throwing it up in
trenches the first showers (in delect of irrigation) will enable the
plough or the hoe to he hiougbt into operation, and dining their
occurience, that is, according to the present season the end oI April
being indicated as lavorable, the wtninlli and moistuie tend to lotce

448

out the shoots before the excessive rnius of the end of May an4
June wash off the soil covering the plants, and once through, they
are perfectly sale, and yet will not from the want of sun, advance
so rapidly as to arrow in October, excepting in those highly rich
portions of soil, which forte the pljnl forward as if it were in a
nut bed. Once past this period without exhibiting a disposition to
arrow, the cane will push forward with amazing vigor towards
malum v and in March or April lollowing will be fit to cut, and
should even the signs of complete ripeness not appear, not on this
account should it be allowed to stand, lor so soon as it is influ
enced by the ruins, it will immediately sprout not into flower,
but every bud upon the joints will shew Ircsh shoots, the sap
changes in nature and no longer does the saceharine juice exist
pure, it experiences a mo dilution and what would otherwise pioduce su^ar is now converted into that destined for the developejiieiit of the germs and nourishment ol the shoots produced Irom
them.
In selecting an estate, it bcoomes necessary to combine as many
as practicable of the following requisites, endeavouring in the first
instuniv, if possible to fix upon a free loamy soil, with gentle de
clivities clayey land is not so good for first crops on account of
its sti Iiiess, but the addition of lime and ashes from the boiling
Jitinse fires wilj in the course of a year or two render it admirably
adapted lor any purpose; the acquirement of, or proximity to forest
ground for the supply of fuel, heihei steam or water power be em
ployed, is very desirable, in the former case indispensable; facility
of transport by good roads, or water conveyance must be consi
dered, and that of obtaining limber and building materials ; the ex
istence of a stream of water is an item of such importance, that
a great portion of other advantages might readily be waved for 'this
consideration; pasture lands lor stock uie very desiiable and if they
cannot be obtained, artificial grasses, Indian corn and Plantains.
$hould occupy every spare piece of ground.
(To be Continued.)

t 449 ]
2Hjc atfjeW
by far the greater number of thn at intervals, into smaller passage*,
primitive! Christiana, were buried ii> which again led into a variety of cham
subterranean Sepulchres. As, during bers; and on either side of them wen)
the first three hundred years the sword several rows of niches, pierced in the
wall, serving as catacombs, and filled
of persecution was constantly impend
ing over theii heads, nud dear bought wilh coffins. The chambers were paint
experience taught them, that their ed, for the most part, like the churches,
onlv safety lay either in withdrawing wilh passages of history from the old
to uninhabited deserts; or sheltering ami N* Testaments, In the centra
themselves in inaccessible hiding holes, of the large street was an open square,
multitudes, who preferred the latter large and commodious as a market
alternative, died, and were interred place, in which those who took re.
fu^e there, in those troublous times,
in their places of tetreat. These serv
ed at once as their home and their were wont to congrsjifute for worship]
burying place; and, as it was natural and the comfort of tehich, as a placa
that they should wish to have the of abode, was greatly promoted by ibo
bodies of their departed brethren cou- liberal iise which the Chrisiians made
of spices and perfumes on their dead.
veved to the samo peaceful and in
violable sanctuaries, it became, first In the more distant o[ these cetse.
from necessity, and afteiwards from teries, whose remoteness rendered theiri
choice, the approved and invariable less liable to be disturbed, there were
practice of the Christians to deposit small apertures left in she surface of
their dead in deep and obscure ca the ground, through which a dim twi
light was aduiitteu ; but the other where
verns. These, owing to the vast mill
titudeswho fell simultaneously in times these were closed, were absolutely
of persecution, and to whom, except dark, and except by the aid of light*;
in some few cases, the riles of bu ltnpassable ; so that, on any sudden
rial were not refused, evidently required surprise, tlie refugees hal only to
to be of no ordinary magnitude ; and extinguish their lamps to insure their
accordingly at what time is uncer safety from the invasion of the ene
tain, but at an early period, tin- cha mies. The depth of these vaults was
rity Of some wealthy friends of (Heir sometimes so great, that two or three
storeys wer6 ranged one above ano- .
body put them in possession of ceme
teries, which remained ever after Ibo ther ; and the whole aspect of tho
place conveyed the imp <ssion of a
common property of the believers.
city under ground. History o/ tlie Pri
AtrJorig the monuments of Christian
mitive Christinas.
antiquity, none arc more singular than
these abodes of the dead; and one
Oddities or Gdkat Mek. The
feels at a loss whether most to ad
greatest men are often affected by tho
mire their prodigious extent, the la
most trivial circumstances, which hove
borious industry that provided them, n apparent connection with the effects
or the interesting recollections with they produce. An old gentleman, of
which they aro associated. Like the whoin we knew something, felt secure
Moorish caVes in Spain, they were against the cramp when he placed his
generally excavated at the base of*a shoes, on going to bed, so that tho
lonely bill, and the entrance to care
right shoe was on the left of the left
fully cwncealed that no aperture ap
shoe, and the toe of the right next
peared, and no traces were discerni
to the heel of the left. If he did
ble except by an experienced eye not bring the right shoe round tho
of the ground having been penetrated, other side in that way, ho was liablo
and of the vast dungeons that had to the cramp. Dr. Johnson used al
teen hollowed underneath. The de
ways, in going up Boll court, to put
scent was made by a ladder, the foot one foot upon each stone of the pave
of which stood in a broad and spa
ment; if he failed, he felt certain the
cious pathway, which extended like a day would be unlucky. Fluffon, the
atreet along the whole length of the celebrated naturalist, never wrote but
place. This principal entrance opened, in full dross. Dr. lluulb, of Oxford,

[ 450
studied In fbTT canonical*. An "emlrrent living writer ran never compose
without bis slippers on. A celebrated
pr< seher uf the Inst renttirr could never
make a sermon with his garter on.
A great (ierman Kin ilar writes with
fail braces off. Reiseg, the German

critic, *rote hl rnmmentar'es on So

phncle* with a pot of porter by his
si-le. Schbyel lectures, at the aire of
72 extempore in Latin, with his snuff
box constantly in his hand; without
it be could not get on,

THE DISTRIBUTION OF THE EARTH.

Ill give (said .love) yon nether World away

" Take it (he cried) ye Sons of mortal Mothers I
* It shall he yours for ever and a day :
M But part it fairly 'inoug you all, like Brothers."
To share the spoil nil ran with eager hands ;
And old and Toting to the division came :
The Farmer seized upon the fertile lands ;
The Squire claim'd the covers and the game.
Tile
The
The
And

Merchant fill'd his magazines with goods;

rosy Abbot took the generous wine :
King laid hands on bridges and on roads,
said " the tithe of all that pass is mine."

(Tow late, when all was o'er, of his share reft,

The Poet came, from far, and poorly stored ;
He look'd around, but there was nothing left;
And every thing already has its lord.
" Ah woe (cried he) shall I be thus alone,
* Of all tby racethy truest Son, forgot T
He threw him down nt Jupiter's dread throne;
And loud lamented o'er bis hapless lot.
Replied the god, when his complaint he'd heard,
If sorrow be thv portion, blame not me,
* Where wast thou, then, what time the World was shared'*
Tbat time (the l'oet said) was J by thee.
My eyes upon thy radiant countenance hung;
Upon thy Heaven's sweet melody my ear:
forgive the fanlt, that brighter worlds among,
J lost my share of the Terrestrial Sphere.
' Alas ! (said Jove) the Earth away is given ;
Mo more the fruits the chuse, the mart are minci
* But, if content to live with me in Heaven,
Whene'er thou can'staccess shall still be tbixt*/

THE HOT SEASON IN NEW YORK.

Bt O. W. Holmes.

The folks that on the first of If ay

Wore winter-coats and hose,
Began to say, the first of June,
" Good t,ord how hot it grows!"
Al last two Kahrenhoists blow up,
And killed two children small,
And one Barometer shot dead
A tutor with its ball.
Now all day long the locusts sang
Amona the leafless trees ;
Three new hotels warped inside out,
The pumps could only wheeze :
And ripe old wine, Ihat twenty years
Had cobwebbed o'er in vain,
Came spouting thro' the rotten corks'
Like Jolly's best champaigne.
Plump men of mornings ordered tights,
But e'er Ihe scorching noons,
Their candle- moulds had grown as loose
As Cossack pantaloons !
The dogs ran mad, men could not try
If water they would choose ;
A horse fell dead, he only left
Four red-hot, rusty shoes !

Extract* from $molJfcaIs.

D.Jormos in am Omnibus' Boswell
(In Elysium): "Sir, if you were lyin^
now, and you were to be turned into
a coach, what sort of coach would you
become ?" Johnson (rolling about, and
laughing with bland contempt); "Sir,
in parliamentary language, \ "U are
frivolous and vexatious;' bnt the friTolity surmounts the vexatiousness."
Boswell (tenderly): "Nay, sir, but to
oblige an humble, and, I hope, not
altogether undeserving friend." Johnson: "Sir, where reply is obvious,
interrogation is disgusting.
Nay, sir,
(seeing the tears in Hoswell's eyes),
I would not he harsh or uncomplying ;
but do yon not see the case t once ?
I should formerly have chosen to be
a bishop's carriage perhaps, or a chancellor's, or any respectable lord's."

Boswell (smiling) : '* Except a lord

mayor's." Johnson (angrily): "And
why, sir, should I not have been a
lord mayor's? What hare I done, that
it should be doubted whether I would
countenance the dignity of integrity and
the universality of commerce ?" Boswell
(in confusion): "Sir, I beg pardon;
but to confess the truth, I was thinking of Mr. Wilkes." Johnson: "And
why, sir, think of Mr. Wilkes, when
the smaller idea should be merged iuto
the greater? when the great office itself is concerned, and not the pettiness
of an exception ? Besides, sir, Wilkes,
though a rascal and a whig, was &
gentleman in manners as well as birth
(looking sternly at Boswell). He would
not have made such a remark. To be
sure (relenting a little, and lookiuk arch)

G 3

f 452 fl
be got ('runic Fomctimes." Boswell
(interrupting): " Dear sir! "Johnson:
" Neither was he scrupulous in his ad
miration of beoutv." boswell: "Dear
est sir! " Johnson : "Though what
soever the frensy of his inebriation,
or the vagrant-} of his nocturnal revels,
be would hardly bare raistakeu the
plethora of an oyster-woman lor a pro
hibited attraction. B ell, well, sir, let
us be mutually considerate. Let us
be decent. To cut this matter short
sir, 1 should be an omnibus." Hoswell
(with gratefui earnestness) : "Way I
presume, dear sir, to inquire the rea
son ?" Johnson : " Sir 1 should not
be a cart. That would be low. Neither
should I aspire to be the triumphant
chariot of an Alexander, nor the fune
ral cart of a Napoleon. Posthumous
knowledge has corrected those sympa
thies with ambition.
A gig is pert ;
a curricle conrumbical ; and the steam
carriage is too violent, perturbed, and
migratory. Sir, the omnibus for me,
it suits with my past state and my
present; with the predilections I havn
retained, and the humanities I have
acquired. Sir, it even n.akes me beg
pardon for what I have mid ol Wilkes.
Morse omnibus communis. Like death,
it is common to all, and gathers them
into its friendly bosom. It is decent,
and unpretending; no respecter of per
sons ; a king has been kuonu to ride
in it ; and opposite him may have sut
a republican weaver." Bosnell ; " But
you would choose, sir, to be a London
omnibus, rather than a Parisian one,
or even a Litchfield ?" Johnson (with
bland indulgence): "Surely, sir; and
to go up the Strand aud Fleet-street,
and occasionally to stop at the Mitre.
And, sir, I would not he driven by
everybody, though I can now tolerate
everybody.
I would nave a hum ane
and respectable driver; an elderly man,
sir ; and my windows should be taken
care of, that the people might not
catch cold." Here Boswell, begging a
thousand pardons, |with shrugged shoul
ders, lifted eyebrows, and hands spread
out in deprecation of offence, bursts,
nevertheless, into an uncontrollable fit
of laughter, at the idea of the solemn
vnd illustrious Johnson converted into
an omnibus. And the doctor, though
a little angry at first, recollects his
Elysian experiences, and at length con
tributes to a roar worthy of the in
extinguishable laughter of the gods in

Homer. Johnson (snbsiding into a

human measure of joviality) : "Sir,
it wa ludicroDs enough, if you con
sider it as a man; hut if you consider
it as a cbild or a divine person (to
speak in the language of our new
Plato) the subject will be invested,
with the mild gravity of an impartial
universality. I see, however, that it
will take many more draughts of Lethe,
before you, Bosnell, can get the fumes
of the gold la vein wine out of your
bead; so let us consult your capabili
ties, aud return to human measures
of discourse ,- letj us have reason once
more, sir ; for I see you wish me to
say it), let us be good mortal jolly
dogs, and have t'other bottle."
British Miiccltoin/.
l.txtHT or a Pipe. Let those abuse
that cheap luxury, a pipe of tobacco,
who never knew the enjoyment of it.
We would uot quarrel with any man
on this matter, although we are avowed
worshippers of tbe "soothing weed,"
Bear old pipe ! but happy hours bast
thou and 1 spent together, in the still
midnight, when tbe busy world slept,
haye we kept natch and close com
munion. We hatched no treason we
did injury to no oue ; we rested Up
on lip n ith sincere affectkn, aud our
loves but grew stronger through this
renewal. 'Ihou an a loud mistress,
that raitse me no jealousy thy look
anil welcome are ever tbe same. 1
parade not thy beauty before the world,
and thou complainest not if I aban
don thee for a time, I have ever found
tbee faithful. '1 hoti bast been my
comforter in sorrow : and when elated
with joy, thy old familiar whisperings
have soon made me thoughtful. Thou
art my wisest and best adviser. There
as something venerable in thy brown
and dim looks; the thought of loug
years are imprinted on thee ; the
musings of many a midnight are chro
nicled on thy huge bowl. The faces
of dear old friends have passed iu a long
array before us, when we wore alone;
we have mingled sighs and smiles
together, which the world can never
know of. Ihou bast endured much
for me, my dear old pipe! Ihou hast
passed through fire and water for my
sake. Thy voice is ever low, and I
love to hear it, and I ran regulate it
at my will ; at times it seems mea
sured and solemn, as it keeps pace
with my thoughts ; and when the brain

133

runs riot, It comes laughing from thy

lips in quick succession, and ill v ebony
end curia tip its volumes in silent Uelight, ami we mingle our breath toge
ther, tuiil waste our ell'orts upon the
empty air, while we make " ambrosial
clouds/' What shapes have 1 seen
spring from ibee '.'forms of heavily
ascending with their scarfs blown into
arches as they rose with, their floating
drapery, then dwindled into air. Moun
tains crowned with blue mist, with
winding path* that seemed to lead into
the clouds; valleys deep and purple;
ocean depths, which no eye but our
own looked down into, whole the huge
sea-snake curled and moved in its watery
cave, and looked as if its blue folds
would girdle a world.
What hours
have we sat dreaming together, with
half shut eyes, giviug wink for wi:ik,
as something new rose before us, and
whispering iu " whiffs," lest our speak
ing aloud should break the spell ! How
our forefathers pasted their long winter
tii.'hts without such a companion as
tbou art, we know not. All great dis
coveries came to light with thee. Our
steamships and railways are hut pipes
set in motion ; we pass over half the
globe smoking. Let no man, then des
pise a pipe. Even the gieal Homer
ent his heroes to battle with it ; and
Achilles " smvlseil along the plain."
And now tbou art out, I will rear thee
gently >n end, for 1 would not have
those who love thee not grow wearyut
bearing me praise thee, my deardrtainy
old friend. Girltoii G{le Hie Jlv/trr.
CoXPi BKKCE BETWEEN I..1I1V J.VM:
GEY AHD HlSHOP Ci.lBl-tSKB. The

bishop, immediately proceeded to in

terrogate her on the articles of her
faith ; and being a man of profound
learning, well versed in all the subtleties
of scholastic dispute, he ought iu every
way to confound and perplex her. In
this he wa6 likewise assisted by Bouuer
and Feckeuh.nn, both of whom were p
admirable theologians, and who proposed
the most difficult questions to her. The
conference lasted several hours, during
which Jane sustained her part with ad
mirable constancy never losing a simi'.e
pointbut retorting upon her opponents
q eitions, which they were ui utile to
answer displaying such a fund of eru
dition such powers of argument-- such
close and clear reasoning and such pro
found knowledge ofjlhe tenetsof ber own
faith and of theirs, that they were com1 Ktcly baffled and -astounded. To a

long and eloquent address of Gardiner's

she replied at equal length, and with
these emphatic' words ** My lordx 2
have lived in the l'rntestant faith, and
in that faith I will die. In these sad
times, when the power of your church
is in the ascendant, it is perhaps need
ful i In 10 should be martyrs iu ours to
prove our sincerity. Amongst those T.
stall glory to he numbered happy iu
the thought that my firmness will be.
the means, in after ages, of benefiting
the Protestant church. On this rock,"
she continued, pointing to the firble,
which lay opeu before her " my re-,
ligion is built, and it will endure, when
yours, which is erected on sandy founda
tions, shall be utterly swept away. In
this sacred volume, I find every tenet
of my creed, and I desire no other
mediator between my Maker and my
self." Twer of J.vi:(hn, J'ttrt VI.
A chromatic slide trumpet, manu
factured by Messrs. Robinson. HnsswcU,
and Kubiusou, of W estuioreland-street,
Dublin, is supposed to be the most
beautiful and complete specimen of the
kind yet manufactured iu the I lilted
Kingdom.
It 's cnuipascd of silver,,
and its gencrul const! uclion resembles
the slide trumpet unw employed by
coucert-pcrfoimers. It possesses, how
ever, a marked superiority iu the in
creased length of the slide, by wbic.lt
the performer is enabled to produce
(in addition to all the artificial notes,
of the ordinary system) the low D.
natural, 1- natural, and (j sharp, and,
we believe, even the low < sharp.
'1 his is a great improvement, since the
scale of the instrument is thus ren
dered perfect with the advantage of a
much belter lime than can be produced
from a trumpet with valves. Atlintttum.
KxiiAisTtoN or Coal, In the sitting
in the Model Hooui of the late meet
ing of the British Association, Dr.
Ituckleud, speaking of the consumption
of coal, said, bis opinion was thai of
Dr. Watson the day would come when,
we shall have used all our coal. He
described that not less limn a million
Ions were wasted e\erv year at New,
castle by the slink, or very small coal,
thrown away
He impress d il strongly
upon the meeting to adopt the follow^
ing method of converting the small
coal into a useable forut : Willi every
ton of slack mix from JiO lo 40 gallons
of water, 4Clbs of coal tar. SiDlhs of
lime pwdcr, '2 rwt. of dried rivel mud!
lilts fuxrn this cooiuosl into bricks.

t 454 )
METEOROLOGICAL JOURNAL KKPT ON THE HUNASGlRtA
RANGE OF MOUNTAINS, AT AN ELEVATION OF
NEARLY 3,000 FEET.

Rain Fall Prevail

in I of
ing
Dati-6a.m3p.ml6p.in Inches dew Wiu ils.

April
r. JO 68"

71c

PREVAILING WEATHER.

verv
I- II vy Variable Fine A.M.Heary showers P.M.
Do. Fine & cloudy a.m. Heavy shower p.m.
],25( I).,.

8. 17 67

70

S. 18 67

69

1,300 Do.

North.

M. 19 67

69

1,350 Do.

Variable Fine a.m. Showers P.M.

T. 20 68

89

w.2lj 67

Til

T. 22 68

70

2, Oo.
3, Do.
2,500 Do.

t. 23 68

69

3,750 Do.

b. 24 67

Til

S.2.5 68
I
M. 26 68

7(1

T. 27 69

71

w. 28 69

7(1

T. 29 68

(ill

*.3C 88

70

Til

FineAM. heavy showers p.m.

Do".

I loudy & flhe a.m. Heavy rain P.M.

Do.

Fine a.m. heavy showers P.M.

NNiE. Fine A.M. heavy rain P.M.

8.W. Heavy rain all day and night.

2,050 Do. Variablt Fine a,m. Showery p.m.
-,wo Hvy North. Fine a.m. Light showers P.M.
1 ,500 Do. Variable Fine a,m. heavy rain P.M.
2, Dr..
2,150 Do,
3
1,500 Do.

Do.

jFine a.m. heavy rain p.m.

Do.
Do.

Heavy rain and squally.

/

Do. weather.

North ,Fine a.m. heavy rain p.m.

Mav
1,- II vy Variable Tine a.m. showers p. M.

1 68

70

S. 2 ON

69

u. 3 OH
. 4 69 ;

"(i
70

North Do. weather, strong breeze.

light Variable' Fine dry and cloudy weather.
Do. weather.
N.E
Do.

(r. 5. 691

70

Do,

I. 6 69

7(1

1),,.

r. 7 89

70

Do,

a. 8 68

711

Do.

N.N,E. Fine weather and light breeze.

Do. Fiue and cloudy.

(to

71

I)".

Variable

n. Hi 69 |

71

nunc

Do.

69 I

71

8.

S. 9

l,050|Do.

Variable Fine and cloody.

Do.

Do. Weather.

Do. weather.
Fine dry and cloudy weather.
Do. weather.

I),..

North

w. 12 69
T. 13 (is

r2

1).

N.E.

7-'

1. 14 68

7(1

Do. weather.
I),.
N.E.
light Variable Fine dry and cloudy weather.
Heavy squalls with frequent showers.
Hvt N.E

t. I"

. 15 67
Wax: 76
Win:, 67
Var;' 9

Total 31,000

Fine dry and hazy weather.

W. A

t 455 ]
DIARY KEPT IN THE VAJ.E OF DOOMBERANEAR KANDY.
ooo
1841, 19f4 April to the 26th. Showers of Tain have continued falling verjr
^ay this week, with the same clese anil oppressive state of the atmosphere
in the middle of the day and eveniu as last ttevk, but the mornings are
cool and calm. Wind variable, scarcely any, but just before a shower of rail)
com."* on.
Thermometer Average.71

6 A. M.79 3 P. *.78 8 P. M.

.From 26(A April to 3rd Mnu. Ylore rain in quantity has fallen during this
week than the last, the showers partaking more of the character of continued
rain which has fallen sieadilv every day for two or three hoars at a time- .
The atmosphere has been generally cairn bat much conjei than liittflrto.
What wind there lias been, was from the S. W.
Thermometer Average.71 6 a. 11.-78 3 P. M.77 8 P. H.
All this rainy weather has been of exceeding ftreat benefit to the planta
tions in this valley, and all the trees hi conseqnence look fresh and vigorous.
The fruit begins to shew itself in considerable quantities.The Tain which
has fallen dm in the past month April, may he said to be -as much again
in quantity as that which fell in April 1840.
From 3rrf of Mai/ to Mc IO//i. During the first two or three days of (bis
period the weather was cloudy. nd "a few showers fell, but since the days
have been fine and dry with a strong Breeze Troin the S. W. generally.
Thermometer iiKraqe.T)0 6 A. M.78 2 p. M.77 8 P. m.
Very little Dew in quantity falls now especially if there is any wind dur
ing the night.
From lOth Mat/ lo the \7th. Sky cloudy generally but the weather fine
and dry with a strong breeze all day from S. W. during this week, except
the last day which has been one of continued rain for the last 34 lnnirs and
seems likely to continne.
.
Thermometer Average. About the same as last week though the climate
is decidedly cooler and pleasanter to the feel than it was a fortnight ago.
'Operation*. In the commencement of the month, "were, planting on the Es
tates which are forminsr supplying with plants tin the older estates where the
trees have died or been missed and for the last ten days every one has
taken advantage of the dry weather to get the planted parts cleared f weeds.
The rain aptiearlni.' likely lo set in again, makes it a favorable time for
all Planters about to commence estates to get in Coffee "Seeds" nod "Seed
lings" into Nurseries, so that thev may have the benefit vf all the cloudy
end rainy weather, to he expected from the 8. W. monsoon.
The/i formation of Hardens likewise should not lie omitted by the Planter
during this season, in order that he may have all the culinary vegetables so
essential to the health o1' residents in a Tropical climate, nearly all of which,
with a little care, grow most luxuriantly in every part of the "Central province."
Those who can do so, may also plant between the Coffee trees of neirlu
planted' parts of their estates, the Tndiau maize" for the use of their cattle,
and what, will also answer for the same parnose, several kinds of Native grain
known by the names of " Colin," " OuiiJlm." " Moong batla" Sec. which grow
itli. nit further trouble than slightly stirring up the soil and throwing in the
seeds.
The health of all Europeans on this side of the country remains very
|! 1 bnt from what little can be learnt of the natives they appear to suffer
from attacks of diarrhea, dvsentry and fever during these rains. The health of coo
lies on the estates remains as yet generally good.
B. D.

f 456 ]
OBSERVATIONS OF THERMOMETER AT THE KANDY LIBRARY.
FOR THE LATTER HALF OF THE MONTH OF APRIL.

.Mean.

REMARKS.

Noon.

l>. P.M.

76*

82 =

77-

78J5 rhundcr and Ugbtuing from 3 P.M. succeed

ed by a good shower of raiu, night fair.

16

75*

81J

80

79

Very heavy ruin in the eveniug with thun

der uud lightning, night cloudy.

17

76

81

78

78i

Very heavy rain accompanied with thun

der and ligiiUiing in the eveniug.

April.

>. A.M.

IS

18

74

81

78

19

78

81

78

77f
79

20

78

81

79

79J

Kvening cloudy, slight rain.

21

78

81

79

22

76

80

78

79J
78

Cloui'.v from 3 p.m., slight rain, fine night.

23

75

80

78

n*

Slight rain in the afternoon, very heavy

raiu from 7 to 9 p.m.

44

75J

78

78

77J

V Hiiful shower of rain in the afternoon,

cloudy night.

35

76J

80

78

78J

\ good "shower in the afternoon, showery

from 6 to 8 p.m., cloudy night.

26

77

80

80

79

,'loudy.

27

78

81}

79

79J

[envy rain from 2 to 7 r. M. fine clear

night.

28

70

81

78

78$

Heavy rain ia the

night.

29

76

80

77

77f

ll.iin from 2 to 7 p.m. with

der ami lightning.

30

75J

79

77

77J

Heavy rain from 2 to 6 P.M. lino clear

night.
P

Evening cloudy, slight rain.

Slight rain with thunder.

TliMii'lcr, lightning, wind

from 4 to 6 p.m.

COLOMBO:.

rSlKTED AT THE HEBJLD FBESS.

and heavy rain,

afternoon,

fine clear
much thun

fffic

CEYLON MAGAZINE.
Ko. XI.

Jci-y,

1841. .

Vol. I.

OUR MONTHLY GOSSIP.

We have read with much interest somt " Papers " printed by tho
Agricultural Committee ol tlie Royal Asiatic Socii'tv of London, on
"the CiihivntioTi ol Cotton in India." It is .proved beyond the
shadow of a dmtbt, that the only kind of Cotton likely to thrive
in onr eastern possessions and find a large and profitable market at
home, is the " Pernambnco." This plant flourishes remarkably well
in high situations, having a red laieriiic soil, and from the little
care required in its cultivation and preparation for the market, we
should say that it is deserving of attention in ibis island where
there is so much of the poor, slonv led soil adapted to it, and which
h unfit for either Coffee or Sugar. One great advantage of the
Pernambnco Cotton is that from the peculiarity of the pod, the seeds
can be easily separated from the staple, and that a hand picking
to free it from dirt and impurities, is all that would be requisite
to fit it for the market. It is stated on competent authority that
at least otre half of the Cotton yarn exported from Great Britain
tnight be manufa.Miiiid from this species of Cotton, if at a mode
rate price, which would at once create a demand to the extent of
150,0(K) bales per annum. In the manufacture of Cotton goods
tire warp, or long threads, might be of the Pernambnco which if at
a low figure, would supplant all other descriptions of Cotton for
this purpose. Here then would be a further ditnand of 250,000
bales annually, making irt all a market for 400,000 bales, which at
the American price of 7id. to 8d. per pound would he a total
value ol 6,500,000!! Some samples of E. I. Pernaiubuco have

t
been pronounced of

4-58

a moot serviceable qualitv, and such as to ih

duce a most extensive use of it/ The chiel

peculiarities ol it are

fine colour, a property of smelling in llie process ol bleaching, whch,

filling up tin- vacancies beitvie.11 llie threads, piles -the fahtioa most
substantial appearance, and also

a greater tocility lor taking colon

than is possessed It n-iitry el the All criruii ^ni: (oiuts.

'1 he

" Agricultural and Ni riicultural Society <>' liilin" butt often d three
prizes ol 2,000, 1,000 and "500 to the growers of the finest
samples ol Cotton iu the" provinces ol (he Bengal or Agra govern
ments.

The samples musi consist of 300 bales each

growth <>f one prr-un.

and

be the

The prizes are to be repeated during three

successive wars, commencing in 1813.

. Until very recently we were not
most extensive institution

called

aware of the existence of- a

the "London

Library.''

It was

(jurm-d as a kind of joint-stock society lor the purchase of all* work*

of value appearing in the metropolis,

which

by tiie shareholders ot their own houses.

were to be perused

Thus combining the ad

vantages of a circulating library, with the high* r ones of the British

Museum.

The capital ol the Libiary is, we believe, f 00 ,00 and

in )he list of the Committee we perceive the names ol several of

our hading literary characters.

The secretary

is Thomas Curly!*,

the author ol "Chaitism," "The French Revolution," &c. &c.

. In a recently

published

statistical work we met with some in*

teresiiug details of the Geneva clock

mn.'iil export of these articles
vciy large.

and watch manufacture.

to various parts

The

of the world it

The manufacture was, until of late years, confined to

the towns of Tvrhevg and Neuiuidi, hnt it has now extended to

other places.

In

were exported to

1836 not less than

America

town, in which there

198,000 clocks and watches

alone from one

are 70

master makers

single manufacturing
Inlly employed.

good workman can finish sis common clocks weekly ; of those that
strike and also that

h;we

an alarum,

h>nr weekly ; and

ol the

best eight-day clocks, two weekly ; therefore, if one reckons at the

medium late of four clocks fur each workman per week, and al
low to each

master two

journeymen, the yearly

manufacture of

clocks and watches, in Schwenningen alone, is about 30,676 ; which

]Pfi ati average, uie tvoith 91,728 florins! (.about 10,000.)

439

The manufacturers of Germany are rapidly progressing-, and iu

many articles taking the supply of loreign inn: Ki is. out of our hands.
The manufacture of machinery is being tarried on most extensively
and pinfilably, and in many cases under the immediate superinten
dence ol some of our country mcu. Next to machines, sugar is
perhaps the most successfully manufactured. In ISoli.mia alone
there are upwards of liliy establishments lor making sugar from
Beet- toot, the whole of which is lor home consumption. The Cotion manufactures are represented as being in a most prosperous
State, as also that of glass; there aie not less than 75 maiiulactories of glass, which give employment to 3,500 families producing
annually to the value of 60,000,000 gui ders,
\Ve (rust that the serious attention of many of our renders has
been given to the letter of Brilannirux in our lust, on the subject of
" Heathen Females." 'J here must be few hcie who are not deeply
sensible ol the truly deplorable stale of the Singhalese women, both
moral and physical; iu prouoTliwn to that feeling should be our ex
ertions to remove the causes. As yet but little has been done; that
little, however, we will look, upon as good seed, and although, doubt
less, some ol it has been sown in bad ground, there must be some
which will bring forth good and plentiful Iruit. \Ve believe that the
Female School alluded to by our coi respondent has failed chiefly
in consequence of the natives ol high castes not liking then daughters
to mix with those ol inferior castes. It would tberelore appear that
female school to be conducted with success sboitid be divided
into several classes in separate rooms: lor to attain our objects of
education and. civilization, we must go prudently to work ajid not
war too openly against national prejudices. The curse of caste
must be undermined by sjovv and imperceptible degrees, not by ac
tual opposition: to attempt tu overcome it before educating, would be
as useless as to endeavour to diive a wedge into a fissure with the
lno.id cud loremost. On the oilier hand give the native sound
practical education and caste must lull.
While upon the subjict of education we will say a word about
the " Cotta Institution" and the "Colla Youths. We have been
present at the examination ol the latter and were certainly surpris
ed and gratified at tbeir thorough acquaintance with Greek, La

460

tin, Philosophy, Chemistry, Mechanics, fcc. But wc couM rot help

thinking at the time, and have thought it much more since, that
to iiiiiiin such excellence in Requirements of (10 thctn) ques
tionable utility, much vahiuhle line must have been sacrificed.
Precious moments must have been fritlii'd away with Click, .Me
chanics, and Chemistry, that should rather have heen employed in
diffusing amongst their ignorant breiheien the elements of mental
regeneration, sound, piuctical, and where it may be done without
alurmii.g prejudice, Cliruliou knowledge. We believe that the whole
of the Cotta Youllis are intended to he sent abroad, in lime,
either as Missionaries or Teachers. If as Missionaries of the Gos
pel should not theil education he purely Theological ? If as Teachers it ought to !> as simple as possible, and in reference to
the capacities of those to be taught, not of those who are U>
teach. Is it intended that the ()o.l>ey's child should be initiated
into the mysteries of centrifugal avd other lorces, that our Appo*
should grow up learned in liie wisdoyi of the Atomic Theory, or
that the Cinnamon Peelers' children should be taught the mauve.
ol the essential oil which flavors that spicy hark, uud how much
of its quality depends upon the action of the solar rays! Wo
make these lew remarks without ltleletice to the gentlemen at ll,c
head of the Institution, who we believe act upon a system layl
down for their guidance by the home committee, and doubtless
cannot depart therefrom.
It is possible too, that we may be
wrong in these ideas, but ui.til we heal some stronger arguments
than have reached us as yet, we cannot concede the utility of an
Uuiveisity Education for the enlightenment and conversion of the
inhabitants of the Jungle Villages uf Ceylon.
Mrs. Trollope, the vulgar though clever satirist of the follies of
the human character, has commenced in the " Metropolitan," a new
work entitled "The Blue Belles of England i" Irom wh.u we hear
of the opening chapters, it promises to be a performance of considerable merit and free from much of the objectionable iu her
luriuer productions.
Sir David Brewster's work, "The Martyrs of Science" is well
spoken of: it comprises the lives of Gullileo, Ticho Brahe, and
Kepler. Ainsworth, we ncrcure, is determined to nuke the most

461

of his present popularity, and promises to rival " Brz" in the nnveariedness ol his pen: another " Historical Romance," with the pro*
tnising title of " Windsor Castle" is announce! Irom this prolific writer
Mr. Iti tiili v promises us the following interesting novelties ;
* Belgium." by J. E. Tennant Esq. M. P., in 2 vols. Memoirs
ol the Column Family. By R. B. Peake Esq., 2 vols.
f Children of the Nihility.

Portraits,

Mr. Colburn announces "The Book without a name." By Sir

Charles and Lady Moryaji. The Life and Letters of Beethoven.
gililtd by J. JUvschetes Esq. Society in India. Ly an Indian,
Officer, and The Hon: Mrs. Dawson Darner's Diary of her
Tour in Greece, Turkey, F<g)pt and the Holy Land.
Besides the above there are. the following novelties; Man
ners and Customs of the Japanese in the Nineteenth Century. A
.personal narrative ol a Journey to the source of the River Onus.
By Lieut. John Wood. Heroes, Heto-worship and the Heroic in
History. By Thomas Curlyle. The Last Pays of Mary Stuart
By Miss Entity Finch. Six Months with lite Chinese Expedition.
By Lord Jovyln. The Origin, Progress and Present Condition of
the Pint Aits in Great Britain. By W. B. S. Taylor. My Lite. By
An Ex Dissenter. Y\ hat to Observe, or the Traveller's Rcmtmbr.tncer. By Col. J. K. J.uchipn. Rudicul Cure ol Sluliciiug by
Surgical operation. From the German, by Joseph Trunin. Russia
undir Nicholas the First. From the G.ernian, by Copt. A. C. SUrling. The Lile of Petrarch. By Thomas Campbell Esq., Author
of the I'lciisures of Hope. The Love Match. By Mrs. .Maberly.
Joan of Are. An historical Romance. By '/'. J. Str/e Esq. The
French Stage and the French people. Edited by Theodore Hook.
A delence of Joint Slock Banks und Country Issues. Currcucy
alld Bunking. The Cuncncy Question.

C * )
DREAMS.

There's a soldr-n vision thai flits awnr.d,

In a babes Woe eve "lis ever iound;
There's u cbami l'ia( we leol but niay not lefl,
And wc would noi bitak, il we could, ihat spell.
Tis Childhood's Dream,
There's a fairv vision that brealss open.
And dazzles the sight, as it dances on,
A far off scene iu some land ol bliss,
Aud it leaves behind a sigh aud a kiss,
"I'i the Dream of Tooth,
There's a chsagintj vision of dark and fair,
The sunshine "I joy and the clouds ol care.
And d. ar!\ the limey Ions to truce.
The lulute's path through, that cbequer'd space.
"lis Manhood's Dream,
There'* a holy vision ihnt floats above
The lime-iouvlu-d brow iu a halo of lore,
Il bi rathe* lepose with its evening breath,
Auu it aluuibtis ou 'till it site|>s in death.
Tis the Dream of Age,
Ep, C. M

LIFE

IN THE JUNGLE,

OB UTTEHS FBuM * FLAME* TO BIS COUSIN III XOKDOX.

JLfcTTEtl II.

To John Smith, Ckuichkd 1um, Londo.w.,

lipping BitngnloWy May 10M, 1841.
Mr Deab 0 opsin, At I promised iu my last, before stalling for this, I
take up in) pen to tell you our uprisings and duwufajls, and I assure you
we've seen a lew since then. No duubt you'll waul to know something,
about " Epping bungalow," so here yon have iu Ou first coming in m.uIii
of my laud covered with large aud gigautic, lofly trees, and tbitk with brushwood, I exclaimed, "How very like Epping Forest!" Mis. U. agreed with
sue, so we determined to christian our clearing " Epping." Bungalow is lbs
sialic, and I believe also tbe orleutal name, for a small bouse or cottage,
aud aillimtgli we tiave not eveu the walla of a bouse up yet, but merely a

.*.

lett of a lent, Mill T call it our Bungalow.

T am rather at a loss for the

derivation of the word, hut I am in'iined to bi.:eve it urose from 'he lunglinn, hurried manner in which they are luiiU, and from their beiu,; very low,
fur they've never more than a irouud floor.
Put I must tell you our adventures on the road.
come up by mail, and so we did.
1 bad packih? up!

I said in try las' wi were to

Cur Irais tool; thirteen carts, ahd a nW litilejob

There was a box of straw to he got for the monke\,aii'-ther

for the tortoises, and innumerable slips of elo'b to wrap the erk-bc.xe in.

Tba

Jewels we took with us, as also the Walking sticks, and the childr n had tha
peacock's feathers to (lay with.

After

a doien mishaps with the furnithrOj

atid the natives, and the bullocks, and having huge trunks piano1 open Mra.
fi's bonnet boxes, all Was fairly started, ahd aWay We wire oft" to bed, bat
not to quiet sleap.
ney and all
gination.
ground,

t passed the night in a feverish half dote. Ohr morrow's jouf-

the bidden horrors of jungle life flitted

T saw a splended Coffee garden

ftoes, rakes arid pickaxes Were

before my fretfhl ima

rise up in full blossom, frtttn the

working away

in it by invisible

hands.

I tried to reach it, hut I found deep ravines and mountain trrretota,

In my

way, and

little fiends Spreading

fevers and maladies aroufad. Then-

1 was in the mail coach and the horses were oalloping us down a pM-ripicr1,
rooks were tumbling about oltr ears, and
Ing around me.

echoed from rock to rock.

lo!

b.y wife and children were cling.

"Brown, Brown!" shouted some voice, and " firown, Brown*

I started forward to seijie the trunk of a tree, and

I found 1 had hold of the bed post with my wife by my side telling

tee in was four o'clock, and time to he dressing.

Well it was hurry, sknrryaml sornnihlefor one entire hour, at the end rfubicb we
found ourselves groping about the steps of a- carriage with wheels like a c< i waggon,
It was as dark as a coal-mine, and everything had In If done by 'tel.
children and Mrs. B. were lugged in, and I
fast as I
mercy

could, for the horses Were being put In.

of the

coach niggers,

The

scrambled over the v heels si

] left my Ingwe to the

for seeing that all was

right appeared to be

otlt of the question, and the horsi s were rearing and kicking In a dreadful
manner.

Just

as

all

wns ready, a gun was fired

a signal for us to start, and away

we went

rolling from side to side like a drunken

till it was

black and blue, and

from

at a furions

sailor.

the children

the batteries aa
rate, the carriage

My wife grasped my arm

screamed

most ir n ercifuily.

After the first start all went well eni.tigh and we had leifitre to h< }c ar. uiii.
tut : however I saw little that was interesting for the first half of onr jonrney, it reminded me a-jain or the " hlled piece of pork and the roast piece
of pork," for it was a paddy field and cocoanut trees, and a hut, and ano.
ther paddy field and more cocoanut trees and then another hut.

Pot r.n cut

leaving the half-way house after breakfast, the s.cene on all sides was truly
grand and picturesque: it heat Burford's PYnnyram all to nothinir at all.

guess he could 'ut do better than take a trip oat to Ceylon and paint a few

464

of the fine Pennrrams to be met with up here.

I lifted to thinV Rh-Kmnnd

Hill a" I Win I tor Forest first chop things of the kind, and that there wasn't
tbei t equals any wherej but bless you, they was nothing to the hills and
woods here!

It made Mrs. B. and the voting ones scream to look down into

tome of the valleys, and we all the time rattling along a road close to the edge of
about two thousand feet of perpendicular rock and bushes.

I told my wi'e there

Was no fear at all, but to speak the truth I laid a light hold of the carriage rails,
and tried to whistle some

popular airs, occasionally asking the driver how

Cur we should fall if we made a slip, and how

road we had to go.

much

more

of that sort of

Bnt that was not the only annoyance : we had some of

the most scampish cattle t ever remember to have met with.

The horse*

Were mostly strong and went on well when they did move, but the thing was to
get them
disgusting !

to start.

They were full of all sorts of ridiculous tricks, quite

One horse had his legs tied while being put in ; another would'nt

wait till the traces were fastened.

A third Comical little chap had a knack

of laying down occasionally in the road, plump in the mud;

most tiresome of the lot.

I said to

the driver when

he was

he did this,

lha

" why

coachman, whatever in the world is that ridiculous horse a thinking of, to be

a laying down here instead of waiting till he gets to his stall ?"
says

he

" when

Astley's and
s stroke

he

from

this
had

'ere
to

horse

sham

was

Abraham

his master, and so

putiey
and

you see if

he

used

portend

to

" Why, Sir,"

to
be

I happen to touch

act

at

shot

at

him in

the old place he thinks he's on the stage again, and must fall down arid die'
tie's a clever bnnimal that

there, sir!"

I however differed from him, and

thought it was a very silly horse not to know where he was

np aud down the road so often.

after going

I also thought that if the proprietors would

have play-acting horses they ought at least to engage a clown or a pantaloon

to drive 'em.

We had no more bad horses after this, with the exception of

one who had a kii.i. k of climbing his companions neck, as though ascending
an imaginary Sight of stairs.

suppose li e had been educated at Astley's

too, an I ha I been in the. habit of getting u p the ladder.

Well, cousin, wo got at last to Knml\, the ancient capital of the Emperors
of Ceylonabout 5, p. m. hot, hungry and tired.
groped

With

our way to the house, or rather hut, prepared

attack on rice an I curry, without paying

where, and indeed it's uo

use

some difficulty

wa

for us, and began an

much attention to the how or toe

being over nice here.

I've often heard that

travellers see strange things, but I never thought of seeing what I have in ona
of the kitchens here.

They remind me of the dog's meat shops in Cow Cross,

where they bile the poor old doad horses, only the Suyalee kitchen is dirtier
by a good deal.

If old mother Squeers

had lived

saved the expense of the brimstone aud treacle,

boys walk through

in t eylon she'd have

and have made the school

her kitchen before breakfast, if that did not take away that

(oor things' apueiites they must have been cannibals.

466

1 shall new forget the first night we spent in Kandy, not if I live to the
Sue of old wuat's-liis-name.

On one side of our miserable hut was a Buddhist

Temple with about half-a dozen holy elephants 1h it, and what must the wretched
heathens do but beat great drums, called Tom toms, and blow a sort of Bagpipe
all the blessed night long.

It was their new year, so I suppose the elephants was

a keeping their Christmas holidays.

There never was such an

unearthly

noise as they kicked up, except perhaps iu the incantation scene in De'Freyschutz.
Sleep was out of the question,

so I had the felicity of walking In tha

verandah during the night, occasionally going in to quiet the children.

In the

morning lhat nuisance was succeeded by another as bad, for on onr other side
whs a nasty, little papistical chapel, and it being some great festival of the
Romans they had a succession of singing all the day long, interspersed with
a second edition of the Tom-toms and bagpipe", when
their dinner.

Had

it

been

fine

the elephants bad1

1 should have strolled

nut an 1

quiet, hut no, as if to try my temper it set in a regular sonking day.

of your April showers: none of your woterins,-pot
Falls of Nia^gHruin.

H mined shower-baths.

sprinklings, but

son -ht
None

a regular

Half the tiles on .mr roof wera

broken, so we had a dozen or two of private water -apnnt* inside the howse,
which amused me during the day in placing pots,
to catch the rain in.
half so full of despair.

Fancy my situation !

pans nnd rnenannt sheila

But you can't fancv anything

Dodging between the loose cattle in SmilhfieM on a

rainy day, with pantaloons and pumps on, would have been comparitivelv, art
agreeable recreation !

There was the chapel a sinking, the drums and bagpipes

a. coaxing the six elephant* to eat their broth, the rain a pouring like horse
beans on the roof, with an occasional gust of wind taking off another tile,
my wife grumbling, the young ones crying and asking

for dinner, the black

servants hollowing like mad things, an IT. poor " pl'l garlick," trying to keep
cur bed dry by sitting on it with an umbrella i ver my head.
On the third day after our swivel in Kandy I received an epistle from my
superintendent, Mr. Trunk, and as it sets forth some of the difficulties of
Planter's Life, and is, moreover, a curious specimen of Anglo- Portugese li
terature I'll e'en give you a copy of it:
Junijte, TiievJnti,
Hokbk'd Sir, May I take the freedom to state you with these few lines
and hoping you would excuse me.

On the 29th inst. after four days hence,

I was arrived at this Jungle to be commanding on your estate and hoping

to find ihe Malabar* and others all ready to me to commence my office no
May 1st hut to my excessive indignation no peoples is oomn and I am so
perplexed Sir, that vengeance itself is as nothing still I have no

mens come

and that is a very great botheration to me therefore, will you have the good
ness to inform to my notice how I may act: els that I may be able to pro
cure some more Malabar and Cbingalee peoples by proper time and to keep

I 3

t: m ji
if^kdV.

Will y"ou fa? tlcreptod that I go <nm( time and pit the bM

because T am fraid we

sbalt not

tit our lines or

mens

huts ready prepared to- '

Wide our labors hi and that will also be a very great botheration and vetr*
crashing to me.

Howbeit hare von got the requirable Imrdinients for the srf.

vice of our branch, if sire not

ready to cormrfenco with

seM do*ti to Colombo to bring on first opp*rtunity, the

the tools, Ur.

our writ,

please1

principle thing: *

that we require to carry on Operations for the present.

dM ilex git these

it will put

a tad stop on everything.

If w#

I have pt-ver beet*

ln> th s place be fore, Shall stop for 2 days for your anstfer und then go fee*
labors: if anything do nut perrcnt me.
I remain to be, Klr,
Your most ohdt. humble servant,
Lkonai dub FbakcisCo Lddwio Tun xi.
Of course T
the rains
arrived

Were

and

tn'd him
coming
was

to
fast

lo p do

time1

hi'

npon us.

In

three

procuring laborers,
days after,

our

fur
cans'

glrtd to make another start for the wood* and leave;

our wretched abode, fur which, by tho bye. We bad been paying at the rate?
of' 5, a month !

Away we went a;>aiii, but this time along a safe road antf

in- a quiet bullock carriage, callfd a

hackery; our loni/ tri'in of carta fol

lowed us remiiiiting me of the Caravans Ruing across lbs desert in

Man Nights.

the Ara*

Nothing occurred worthy of notice beyond a few quarrels moons;

the drivers, and now and then a stupid bullock insisting on

the mid He of the mad.

laying down in

We stopped that night at a Rest Home about half

way* ami started avifi at peep of day, fresh as larks, Mts. B. and I much
tinted at the idea of being so near our " clearing."
oer all the carriage road and

By noon we hnd gnrj

came to a halt at a

little bungalow where

there was a newly cut pathway striking off into the forest and hilly country,
Here we halted for rest and break !'ar'j
could be so called.

If hard rice and tough buffalo flesh

But to us every thing was new, arid the hare idea of

eating in a real Indian hut was sufficient

stewed top-boot, or a silk

hat fricasseed.

to bare

made u relish even t

I even begun to fancy uivself t

sort of modem" Coffee Robinson Crusoe, and

when I looked at roy double

berrelM Manton, almost wished the natives would rise

against me en masoe'

V/bile endeavouring to gnlph down our rice with Hip aid of

a little brandy

and water I received a note from my man Friday, nlfas Mr. Trunk, to tea
effect that a dwelling was prepared for me and that the bearer would act a
guide.

He bad sent coolies without number, for otir traps, so loading then*

vltli mil most precious moveables and starting them

off, we jogged

reimrel/

on, under the shade of thick, lofty forest trees, leaving the rest of our thing*
for the next clay.

It would have been a subject for

our little party tramping it along, the children carried

loaded with

Rubeiis to have set

by coolies, my wiW'

the jewel box and bundle o| walking sticks, while 1 ucitnlrei

Vm i
under the Height pfadopble.barrel'd gun, a telescope, a flaiA- of gunpowder, a writing
case, a bottle of brandy aud drinking horn, and a parcel of gernian sausages as a
stand by. I bad cm a most picturesque suit of scarlet aud yellow plaid, fancy
gaiters, a shovel shaped black and bite straw bat with a brim ample enough
{ r a donkey race round it. A\'ith the above and a huge talipot leaf over my
head I looked, as Sam Weller bad it, " a reglar picter card." Alter a trudge
of two ijjili-s over Btoues, streams, &c., and knocking our toe* against slump*
of trees ull the way, we were glad to pull up under shade aud lighten my
brandy bottle with the aid of a little brook. Ky the time we had made half
a dozen such halts we came in sight of what appeared to be a roof, aud
in another minute desired Mr. Trunk, segar in mouth, aud surrounded by
"thirty coolies. It a as then, standing no an elevated piece of lalleu ruck, thai
1 took a sweeping survey of the dark forest before me, breaking out into the
' most txtalic raptures at the prospect, it was then that I saw the striking
likeness to Epping Forest, and it was then that the name of my estate was.
for ever decided !
In another five minute? we were all at the door of our " Bungalow" glad
notigb to be " at home," as my wife, woman- like, in.mediaiely called it.
What our Home is like, what " my Estate" is like, what the views are like,
what my coolies are like, and in short what "Life in the Jungle" is like, I
really must defer until I again take up my " grey goose quill" as Shakespeare
bus it. And so good bye, aud when you've nothing better to do, just llimlj
of the iiackwoods of Ceylop, and
Tour attached Cousin,
b AMI'S O.N UKUWN.

Valedictory Lines.
I would be in the gTavetwitb thee !
Yet si'll be in the world with thine:
1 would thy- dazzling glories see
liut Oh! ili}' tendrils iutet wine:
I wonld shake off these bands of clay,
But oh ! thej cry, "stay lather, slay!"
Jjeave uol thy Iragile brunches bared
To the sole fury of ihe biasi !
Pull many a storm thy mink has spared
And this may spate as spared the last.
Whtm it bath wrought it's Muhht'k will,
t*4 voice wdl Sb,eej wti^j " Jt'euve be still."
ILsB.

48

SKETCHES OF MEN AND THINGS.

BY THE EDITOB.
000

" A chiefs amimg ye talin notes.

An faith he'll jirent it."

No. 6.Brtrtam.
The Female VVahd.
Bedlam what a mass of misciy and woe what a long train
of feurlul men and things is comprised in that one word ! Were
is not loo drcadjul for mortal ken, it nrigbl we wished thut the,
records of tliut melancholy prison-house were opened lo the whole
world, to read the heartless, the avaricious, the bigoted, and the
deceiver, lessons of piety and love. What dark tides could those
cold walls tell ! What suffering, sorrow mid despair have been
entombed within their preeinths. How many young and gentle
hearts ilint have begun their career strong in hope and love, have
been blasted i' the bud, and hate gone down lo early graves in
this abode of woe, unknown, unpilied, unwept ! How many no
ble minds warm will) tlie glorious son of youth and genius, have
been wrecked upon some false rock, and hurried though these
gloomy portals to dreary maddening solitude, where iliey have
thought and thought until the very power oi thinking has passed
from them, and insanity has left them mere intellectual petrelacuoris ! But to bare such a mass of misery to the bureau eye would be loo
much. Men would turn away loulliiug and disbelieving. Never*
tireless some faint outlines ol the picture may be given ; some fear
lay s of lijit may be shed upou die dreary midnight within..'
It was a lair and cloudless day in summer, when I paid a visit
to the melancholy but noble building from which ijiis paper takes
its title Beihlehtm. Hospital or as it is familiarly termed, Bedlam.
The sun shone gaily and brigtuiy upon ils while pillars and its
dome, aud threw out in bold and sombre reliel the massy walls
and the dismal iron gratings ol the windows. The trees were green,
the flowers were shedding their sweetest perfumes, and ihe birds
chirped merrily in the shrubs: the lawn was neatly trimmed, and
the gravel-walks were clean and smooth, while the little porter'aJodge seemed more than usually comfortable and tpiiet. Without
the walls, the busy, happy woild passed heedlessly along, in one
continued hum ot life ami hope, as though such things us care
and woe were not. The rich and the great rolled carelessly by in
their gaudy equipages : the young and the healthy tripped gaily
past ; the student and the merchant sped onwards, cautiously and
thoughtfully, deep in their seveial puisuits: but a lew tcet of
ground and a stone wall intervened, aud yel, perhaps, not one of

f 469 J
the many passers by gave a thought to the snffctings of their fel
low-mortals within. Or, if upon some still summer evening, lb*
passing breeze brought uiih it the low moaniugs and ibe deep*
toned wails of idiotic and maniac misery, perhaps one or two
idle stragglers would pmise before ibe gnat iron gales and gives
long stare of curiosity at ibe beads of ibe madmen visible through
tin- gratings ol ibe long dark windows: for a moment pit)' may
Lave stolen across their leelings, but a gay carriage rolled by and
ibe) iorgut all about " the poor m.iaVpeople."
A feeling of dread almost approaching to awe, came over me as
I passed the spacious ball and uscendi d ibe wide marble staircase
ol Bedlam. From ibe apuilimnts ol the Matron ol ibe Hospital,
thai lady conducted me through a long stone passage to tlie fe
male ward: ibe first pennon of ibis was quiet in the the extreme.
Such a calm., systematic activity reigntd around, that one would
have, thought il bad been s^ime well-regulated school. The inmate*
were in spacious and airy rooms, variously occupied, according to
their tastes and acquirements. Some were sewing, some kniuiug,
some making liule 'fancy articles, arid others reading and writing:.
bill all apparently in ibe full possession of ibeir faculties. These
were such as weie but partially insane, or only so at certain in
tervals ; and a few ol them bad nearly recovered and were to be
discharged in a sboti time. From this we passed on lo a mure
gloomy and noisy pint, where we (ouiid the dtcided, thought not
violent cases. These purls had communications with the gardens
lit the back, which Were laid out in different ways. Meal flowergardens were allowed the orderly ones, while those ol a troublesome
disposition were confined to gravel walks with rather high walls, and
the violent maniacs were only otcasionly allowed a stroll in small
square yards with very lofty walls surmounted by iron spikes.
When we entered the second division of ibe yard several of the
hapless females ran up to us, laughing arid making grimaces, and
took hold of our bauds, chattering away like a troop ol monkeys,
and quite as harmless. We descended a wide staircase into the
gaideus where lb.eie were great numbers of patients variously oc
cupied. One was walking rapidly about as though engaged on most
important business : another was standing stock still in the centre
ol a grass-plot, watching the gnats in the air with true spunisb gra
vity : a thiid was seated in a corner deeply immersed in a small
boak. Others wore walking arm in arm, or running chases, as mer
rily as though they were school girls just heed lit in ibeir lessons. In
short nearly all appeared lo he lively ai.d gny : there were bul very
few of a melancholy cast, such by me way are generally ihe most
difticuli to cure.*
At least oue half of the female eases are mused by love, while with men
drunkenness is the chief reason ; disappointed ambition stands next, and lavs
last in the lUl. The proportion in i>i< h the. professions furnish pRtiems to
Jieilluni is as /allows. Merchants uul Tradesmen 60: ottieers, riavul and ml.
UuajfSO: Lleiyjiueu aud lauded proprietors M: Lawyers UO: Medical men 19.

. At the end of one of like walks, fixed against (be wall, era* fe,
long Mick with a narrow strip ol while linen uitacbed to the up
per end ol il. A young Icinale of prepossessing appearance uas
Walking up and dowu before it, and every lime she passed, sh
jiave an anxious look at the iillle vane as il fluttered in the wind,
All conductress, seeing thai 1 looked lor an explanation, related
to iiii: tii-.- history, briel as melancholy, ol the young person.
bhe hail been wooed and won liy a lieutenant ol a inan-ol-uar,
lint the match was disapproved ol by her ichilives, who used their
Utmost endeavours to break il off. When eveay ell'ort lulled to
swerve iter Ironi her deleruiinaiion, ihc parents' consent was relpc-r
tantly given. Al the important period lite ship in which lie was
laud, was ordeied oil" to a foreign station, at a wjfk's notice, and
being unable lo procure his discharge he was compelled, lo defer
llie maniage until his return. At the end ol three years news
V,:une of uis arrival in the channel, and the lailblui, happy girl
counted the hours as they flew. Bui her joy was soon damped j
strong easterly winds kept the ship Iroin her destination, and alter
heating about lor many day^ she was diiven upon the Irish coast,
iu a heavy gale, and every soul on boaid perished. 'I lie fatal
news w.is concealed Horn the poor girl as long as possible; when
il Has lold ihe shock proved too threat for her anxious and sen
sitive mind, and Bedlam was llie consequence. She however lived
on in a comparatively happy state, still holding the biliel thai her
lover wis beating about the inoiuli of the channel, ai.d kee . .ng
an unceasing watch upon her tiny weathercock lo uole any change
in the wind.
la another comer of the garden, tinder the shade of a fine
lavender tree, was sealed a leuiale in a loose while lobe. Her
long unburn hair was hanging caielessly round her with a lew
flowers woven amongst it. On one side ol hi r was u low mound
f earth, besprinkled with daisies, and surmounted by a small
wooden cross. The young creature was too deeply engaged gazing
at the rude cross and the wild flowers, to notice our approach, and'
when, alter standing a while by her side, she did perceive us, il
was with a long and vacant stare, as though iu a trance. She
hud married early and well, and lived lor a year or Iwo in afflu
ent happiness. Ol a highly excitable and sensitive disposition,
her passions, whether ol good or of evil, carried her along lar from
the paths of reason, and brooked not control. In the pieseni in
stance the full lide ol her feverish, womanly affections swept her
heart in its mighty course, towards one only object, her husband.
In him, and mi him her cherished all of happiuess was placed,
to the exclusion
of every other object, every
other duly.
He was her mind's duly, her heart's idol ; and. while she
lived and luvtd in his presence alone, she seemed lo wish to
think of nought else, whether of this world or the next. Her deep
passion grew deeper with lime, and made her neglect first her friends^
then her only child, and lastly her. God. The voice of religion,
was drowned in llie ravings of an iuurdiuule uli'ectiou. But a (ear*

t"4to ]
fnf piliiishrnent wail at hand. Her child sickened and d't.d. She
h wded il not, mid clang the closer to her husband. At liisl lie
was seized with lever and it was only then that some faint idea of
her real condition gleamed upon her. Still her whole mind was
absorbed in him alone. It is true she prayed for bisiecovery, but
In a wild and fearful manner, without faith, and thcrclore without
hope. He died, and with him perished her reason. She was veiy
inoffensive in her madness which took rather a childish turn. Hel1
chief delight appeared to be sitting and watching the flowers that
giew upon the little mound which she called his grave, whilst she
would at broken intervals chant some soft love-ditty which he had '
been fond ol in happy, hve-gone days. There wele times, however,
wlien reason partly relitined; and she would then sit, weeping and
praying for hours togelhei. She was in such a mood when we vi
sited her, and upon my guide asking what she was about she burst
iiitti tears and pointed to the flowi rs and the cross. Then suddenly
drying her eves she took my hand in hers ami asked had I ever
loved. "Mind" she added, "should you ever have a young and
beautiful wife, let b"i" not carry away your senses, lest yon should
in leaving all for her, lose all in her. 1 loved thus once: but
I'm punished "or it, atid have now only thi* Utile cross and these
few daisies to look at and love. I somelihn s look at the pretty
flowers so long that I fancy I see his features in them: and then
they will change, and the flowers stare and grin at me like fiends
ami devils so horribly as if in mockery. And yet 1 gaze on,
hiiping once more to see his beantilul face. And then at night,
while t am asleep and dreaming, little angels come and weep over
the grave to frighten away the devils, and in the mornine 1 find
their tears glittering like pearls and diamonds, in the daisies' . clips,
and then I can't help crying, and my tears are mixed with theirs."
Leaving the poor widow we passed several groups of females
amusing themselves in a variety of Ways, and of whose mournful
histories my conductress gave me some particulars' One rather
elderly lady, was of trench extraction and hud been bereft of rea*
soil ori hearing of her parents' death by the guillotine. Another,
almost a child, had become idiotic through a fright leceived from
some joke played upon her by her s< hool-lellows. Several bad lost
their reason during violent levers, and there were others who had
been seized with a melancholy madness from disappointed love,
I'rf a sequestered nook of the garden where ll.eie was not r*
flower or a shrub to be seen, and where even the trees had an
unhealthy look from the poorness of the soil, sat a \onnt; yirl of
rather interesting appearance, whose features bore marks of deep and
settled melancholy. Her hands were folded across her hofom, and
her eyes were rivetted npon the ground. We stood hy her side*
for some minutes, but finding ourselves unnoticed, passed on. Horn
of good family, she had been bionght up in the lap of luxury
and gaity, and hud received a first-rate education, of which how^
ever, ns it but too frequently (he case, religion formed no portion.

t 4*2 3
Ana1 when at an early age she lost both her parents, she found*
herself without comfort and consolation, in the charge of guardi
an* as austere and bigoted as her parents had been friroiotis and
irreligious. Rigorous followers of Calvin) they viewed with pious
horror the state 61 their ward's mind, and Irom the day she came
into I hen- house, bowed down as the young thing was by her
recent sonows, she was assailed by long and gloomy orations.
They taught hei that religion was a fearful, auuibilalory creed,
that' the Deity was a revengeful and almost relentless being, and
that Christ was the Redeemer of a favored few selected from all
eternity. Day after day were these dark tenets instilled iuto her
tender, unsuspecting ncait: il is not to be wondered at that
the nil I was seined with a spiritual dread, and that her slate of
ekcilement Irom sorrow aud fear, threw ber into a fever. For
Weeks the poor child raved of a dark eternity, of fearful spirits
ami of nevcr'-ending torments : no hope lit up her pale bectic
feat n res, no smite played upon her parched lips, and she seemed
sinking rapidly into her grave. Hut it was not so. A strong con
stitution carried her through nil her bodily sutfeiiugs, and al length
the lever left her, though her mind's health was gone past recovery. A
victim to bigolrv, returning health lound her a mania.' of the worst,
because most incurable, description, silent and gloomy. Hire conVersed with no one, took no exercise and seemed absorbed in the
contemplation of some terrible thing. Whilst those around her
sported aud laughed, forgetting their madness, she was huned deep
in the horrors of her' condition, without one glimmering ol li^lit to
cheer the darkness within. Surely the murderers of the mind
Lave as tearful a thing to answer for, as the slayers of the body.
Returning' towards the building by another way, my friend point
ed out to me a patient sitting on the edge of a lillle plot ol grass,
and am using herself by heaping up the round pebbles on the path,
(the was more than ordinarily pretty, and there was a bright flash
in her large, dark eye, and a wildness in ber manner which in
dicated a gifted and sensitive mind. It was one ol those but too
common tales of sorrow. She added another to the long list of
the victims of man's deceit and vileness. Possessed of a warm
heart, she had in her early days given her affections to one who
was utterly unworthy of them. When her displace was known,
although the youngest and favorite child, her proud parents shut
their hearts and their doors against her. They saw only her lault,
aud heeded not the frailty of their common nature. The family
was respectable, and they thought it more consistent with their
standing that she should wander through ihe streets, a houseless,
friendless fugitive, ihan defile their hearth with her presence,
6i*oriied and shunned by friends, as an unclean thing, the poor
tir! took shelter beneath the roof of an old servant of the family.
Indaniited by her helpless condition, and determined not to be a
burthen to her humble Irieud, she sought, when well, employment
a* a daily teacher of music and drawing. It was a cold and cheer
less task ; almost trodden under loot by those who bought her

r 4W r
services Tor ft few shillings a month : living on tlie coarsest fare,
and clad in tlie mwi humble manner, she repined mu, but only
thought of how mnoh bread she had earned, of how much mora
toil she would endure for independence, and of what the future bad
in store (or her.
Her's was truly a life of pain and penance,
and oh ! if sufferings and privations cheerfully and meekly endur
ed, ever brought down forgiving smiles from Heaven, surely her
bumble couch must have been watched over by angels of luve
and pity ! But if spirits of peace Wept over her sorrows and re
pentance, man, pharisaical, heartless man, had not one cold tear
for her. Her relatives saw her strength fail and her health decline,
but there was ho shadow of relenting. Vice forsooth, must not be
encouraged, and while her known deceiver was received into the
best circles, she, \he woman and the weak victim, was spat upon
and loathed as a vile creature.
She had sisters, young and beautiful as heiself ; sisters that should have
wiped away her' tears, bent over her sorrowful couch and smiled
away a pari, at least, ol her woe. But they were not near her. Ob,
no, they must not be so m.ich as seen with her, or thtfr charac
ters would be" lost for ever. She h>td brothers too, young men
that passed well with the world. One went regularly to church,
and as he knelt devoutly on his velvet cushion, liftel up' his eyes,
and thanked his God that ' he was not so vile as his sister ; the
other, once a roue, thought as little of her, for the subject leminded him too strongly of his own gav life; her name was a reproich
to him. Happily for her, we may sav, privations and sor
rows proved too much for her, and after a lingering illness she
was transferred lroro, Saint George's to Bethlehem Hospital*
\'

{To be continued.)

K8

r <T4 i

NAPOLEON'S

VISION1

From Ike French of Catimir Delavigne.

Bt Victor.
1
Oil ! thou bright siot of darkness and of light :
Ol glorr and ol nothingness the slave,
Faial U) kings and Irrenien. In thy flight
A storm did heai I lite upwards and it gave
A gioiy 10 thy madness ! * * *
*
*
*

#
*
*
2
Thou who hndst nothing in thy bright career
Equal (o thy good frrrtune, save die day
Of thine adversity, thou didst appeal
A god-like man, and lo, the mountains thejr
Did how their heads to thee, and made a way
Of triumph for thy lootsteps. At thy word,
Tb\ simple wish, the elements obey*
The rain doth cease, the wind no more is hcnid,
And all goes fair for ibce, thy (ties were never dtler'd.*
3
The sun announced thee on it's radiant car,
And Europe feared thee while her sous admired.
One glance Irom thee, one wish which none could roar,
VA ent shaking though the world, it's centre fired,
W here ihy chaotic breath 'ere it expired,
Belched forth its iron laws. Thine imnge too,
Mocked the rich. spoils of monarchs, and attired
Tn them while borne up by thy warrior crew,
With thy wild exploits thou didst make Heaven ring anew.

Men of all sects, for they were brothers born,

IT pun their rival altars Ik a flame,
And joined their prayers for thee at night and morn.
" I'lt serve," said they "the conqueror to whose name
" Thuboi is linked lor ever, and iMio came
'* A hero Irom the Tiber's sunny shore.'*
And to ihy glory be it, to thy tame,
The i lidded this, " O !<jod thy blessings pour
" On him who rules a people free lor evermore."
This if in allusion to thr sintpilnrlii fine vcnlhrr uhich nltrni/s attended iff
Jile duyi and JestUuls, ettn tn the midst uj the u inter ttumths.s. t. M.

( 476

5
Thou might'st reign now hadst thou but wlll'd it so
Ungrateful son of f liberty : Imt thou
Wast leagued against thy mother with her foe,
To hurl he! from her sncred throne and bow,
Hei head unto the dust. For thou didst vow
To crush her 'nealh thy o'erstreuh'd power. Anon,
The cypress wreath that's twined lor Freedom's brow
By tyranny, is ever placed upon
The ty rain's own : he falls and dies but she lives on.

Oh ! was there nothing which thou couldst respect,

Rights, Justice, Oaths ! must all of these, yea, all.
On thy ambition's fatal rock he wrecked ?
Spuiu was our sister, and at glory's call
She shared our dangers, \el thou madest her fall.
Wishing her for a slave that thou might'st see
'Her laurels chains, hei standard made a pall,
But what thy pride had hoped was nut to be ;
Still thou didst give her crown to one loo like to thee.

Twas night, the hour when solemn dreams come o'er

The troubled mind, with visions fvoin the dead,
The hour when Brutus his sad Genius saw,
Rising with awful visions round his head ;
The hour when Richaid on his troubled bed,
Saw the avenging manes, wild and agbust,
Of murder d relatives, with awe and dread,
. Flit liv his curtains, and as each one p.tss'd,
It cursed u curse, and cried " Behold this night's thy last."

, Twas. such a night, Napoleon watched alone

lu silence ami in thought ; lieloie his lace
An ouistretch'd map was placed, o'er which were thrown
His eagle glances, seeking there to trace
S.i .o> secret road, some foe's strong lurking-place*
Or else some luckless kingdom which was spent
With wars and the misdeeds ol rulers base,
He raised Ins eyes, and lo ! bj'lorc him went
Three sjsier- warriors' lorui.s, and siuod Lcutv.iu his lent.

*
Tte'fttin wii* VAe a Roman maid, for prid
Was mix'd with sweet simplicity of inein.
Poor, and ennobled but by deeds, she eyed
Those of a higher eagle with . : nets keen.
Her bropge skin mid hat sunny lands she'd
Jknd round her noble brow was lightly twined
A virgin-wreath ol oak. so young, so gretn.
She leant lit r on a flag ibai waived behind,
And bi ought a day ol fame eternal to the mind.
10
Three tinted rays shone on the sacred cloth ;
lie rays ol Truth, of Justice and of Fame.
It was all blacken'd by the ibuinlei's wrath,
And lorn and bloody ; but it's wide rents came
. In the propd strile of glory, not of sbaoie,
Twas lorn by Victory's band. The maiden she
Addiess'd him thus, " Soldier, thy tatr I claim,
My' sister, dread Marengo, must with thee,
Sow to any higher uetds, unci lake place alter me.

; * Twas I who pnided on thy steps, 'twas I

First pointed out thy wild, thy bright career.
And whisper'd tbee that word that numbly cry.
Which nerved tbe trembling nrm and startled fear*
Op ! when it fell upon the list'ning ear,
It win in "tl iliy soldiers' hearts. For all were fill'd
V^ ith m n i il.ii g in of nan whtn thou wast near.
'Ninth Arcolc's walls when death grasped all he will'd,
He shruuk uwuy Irotu tbee, his Jury busli'd and siill'd.

12
* Tbou'st changed my colots which led thee to fame.
And deck'd with glory iliy triumphal car,
For a dark brazen sceptre. Oli! shame! shame! .
But soldier tremble, lor I see afar
In the high heavens, tliy bright, thy splendid star,
Frlipsed and puling at the opening day.
The sons ol Force grow helpless when they are
Without u curb, and have unbounded sway,
Adieu! iby reign expires, tby glory lades uwy."

47?

The second came from where the Palm treed waltf

O'er the parch 'd desart of the burning sand 5
\Vhere Egypt's spoibi were gather'*! by the brave.
The snn-Iit fires that scorch 'd ber native land,
Live in her silaii v*. conquest aims her hand,
\Miich as she lifts is dropping w i i h tbe gore,
Ol Islam's sons, that proud and tyrant band.
She holds at once great Ctesar's sword of war.
And tbe gold compass of Ptolemy ol jure.

<Oh* King, I'velttiown thee banish 'd hence," said the.

Of Mount Thabor tbe celebrated day,
\n thy bright records takes place alter me.
'I'll" eternal name, tbe spoils T brought away
From the proud Pyramids' feet, all these I lay
To tbee and thine, O! man of mighty deeds.
I see outstretch 'd upon tbe Nile's dark clay
Full many a Moslem lorpse that lu) s and bleeds,
While the: white i urban"* rode o'er by thy guulish steeds.

"Tf tbon didst wander In 'thy glortons flit'bt,

Tws as the bird that sought the sun's bright car,
And lust himself amidst a world of lightYet thou would'st hide it. Tremble, for afar#
In the high heavens I see thy gorgeous star.
Eclipsed and paling at ill' approach of day.
The sons of Force grow helpless when they are
Without a ctnb and hve unbounded sway.
Adieu! thy reign is o'er, thy glory's puss'd away !"
1C
The last, O ! piteous sight, O ! shame, disgrace!
. Her arms were bound with irons, and her eye
Fell to the ground, where euc.ii sic-p kit u truce
Bloody and deep. She moved ou with u sigh,
Muttering these words, "not conquer'd lh<>" I die!"
She brought o victor's spoils, and her renown
Was not piocluim'd where captive colors liy,
But round her blow, where dwell a troubled liowu
Cypress as loir us luurels twined a sombre ciowu._

17
*<Oh ! Ifst and tremble, monarch for I say.
In thine eternal records after me,
Wilt come no other great <>r ulorious day.
Of valour and of sorrow, I shall be
A cold, disastrous chronicle to thee.
And I shall liberate die kings that are
H-ld by thine iron grasp, and they shall see
The chains thai bind thrii limbs with many a scar.
Transferred to those who came to free them, from afar.
18
" When Time hath sped the woild to after ages
Those wondering generations then will read
Id the bright columns of thy history's pages,
And they will doubt as scanning each great deed.
Whether those men that for thy lame did bleed.
Those living wrecks of many a daring tight,
Against far nations foes by birth and creed.
Are more immortalized in glory's sight,
By years of victory, 01 by one sad day of flight.
19
"And thou shall know racbut when Fate's dark hand,
. Doth sweep away all save tb' inconstant name,
Of what was once so mighty in the land,
1^ loo, shall drive thy sjar to whence it came,
Breaking thy warlike sword. Thine eagle, lame.
Will crush id bcacaili thy brazen sceptre lay.
The sons of Force grow helpless, blind and lame.
When they 're uncurbed and have unbounded sway.
Adieu! thy leigti expats, thy glory's pass'd away."

20
AH three had fled, and left earth far behind-,
When e.ich voice still t lie warrior seemed to hear:
And on his dark, oppressed, astonished mind,
biill weigh 'd their strange forewumitigs, but a near
"I'm rolling ol the war-dr.uui woke his ear;
And with its stirring notes fresh thoughts were bom
E'en us the shades ol midnight disappear,
At the first peep of gay und gladdening morn,
Or as the buduiuu simuks liom Virtue's buipsim^ scorn.

479

21
&e thought to have subdued the sons ofSpaify
A>id borne along on his eVr watid'rjngcar
Which carried war, and slav'n 's liaielul chain.
Onwards he pass'd so proudly, from a lur,
His steeds all smoking, tin d and breaihlcss are,
Alreudx drink (be dink and Rozrh wave
Of the deep Heresitili, Russia's liar,
W bile fresh from where the sun their flanks did lave
With sweat and loam, but the}' for bini all things could brave.
22
Beneath the faith of his unfaithful star,
He slept in lalse security, deceived
By those whose words ;ire honey 'd b'lt who are
The mind's dark poisenets, these he believed
And thought them oracles, until beieaved
Ol power, dominion, all: he was their mock,
He slept when dropping these, and nations giievcd;
He Oped his eyes, but at the thunder's shock.
And where did he awake? Upon a desert ruck!

Alone, and in an island, far away

From all his scenes of jjlorv, yet though there,
In his exile, his memory holds the sway
O'er men's minds still, 'tis present everywhere.
Great are his sorrows, and a prey to care
He stands upon bis shatter'd fortune's wieck,
Leaving all dark what once was bright and fair.
But now Death's hand has lallen upon his netk^
And the vast sea doth wash the tomb that laurels deck.
24
Qh ! thou who by no word or vow wast tied,
Thou whom an empire's bounds could not contain,
In a lone deseit island thou hast died!
Thy head is laid where earthly things are vain,
And ne'er will rise to scare the woild again !
At eve' the fisher loaded with a coil
Of nets, which he bears homewards with much pain.
Rests by thy grave, and from it's sacred soil
Slowly retires, and thinks upon the morrow's toil.

t 48d }

TO THE EDITOR Of THE CEVIOS MAGAZINE.

Sin,The recent trial

of a Peer of England has brought the question

of " Duelling" once more before

the public: there is scarcely * periodical

either at home or in the I\usl, hut ha* taken up

the pros and Cons with

much Bctiteness.

the

There is

ho

subject and

argued

doubt hut that the

bpportents of duelling are on the encrease, just as are the opponents of war,
and the folly of supposing a man to be redressed for an insult by standing
tip to either be shot by, or shoot, his insulter is daily becoming more apparent
This is a natural consequence of the spread of education and of the enlargemedt of people's thinking faculties, and the same progress of the mind has
convinced us, of the present day, of the advantage of preserving peace.

Yet,

few will I think, allow that a nalion is to he instilled and aggrieved

with

impunity

simply because

Duelling Is no doubt
nevei theless. if a man
down the next,

war is

a had

a bad

thing, and

submit io

thing !

So it is with

individuals*

the innocent party sometime* falls,

an insult one day, he may be knocked

ho must therefore have

some protection,

or society would

speedily be rent to its foundation. What that protection should be, in Hen of
a duel, it is no easy matter to decide; many a suggestion has been brought
forward but none of a feasable nature.

The last overland papers, told as that

a prize of 1(10 had been awarded to a Mr. Mn namara for his " Essay on
the best means of preventing
would have been

had the

war amongst nations."

Essay treated on the

l?or IhM a remedy may be found,

for war, and therein lays the

suggest, that as we
pistols.

much better it

but I am confident that none ever

great difference between them.

pects the same arguments apply to both,

the injured party may tall. *

How

" Prevention of duelling.'*

In other

Tbey are both evilsj and in both case*

Until some remedy be actually found I would

must have duelling, awords should

A flesh wound, a mere drawing

be nsed instead

of

of blood, would be quite sufficient

and would prevent those >ad dpaths so often the result of pistol duelling.
who have wives

will
res

Alt

or children depending on .them, are bound in duty to avoid

the possibility of making them orphans and

refuse to go out with pistols
sneb firmness would

be

widows : such should positively

and amongst the

sensible portion of mankind

respected rather than laughed at.

P. B. P.

-t

True. Rat. ma** of national injustice invariably create sympathy in other

nations an oppress'd people nearly always finds assistance in it's neighbours
snd then the chances are that the oppressor is defeated. This cannot be the rase
In private affairs of honor where it must be roan to man, and where tbai
adept U but too often matched with the noakiUaL.Ed: C. .Uuyuztse.

PHILIP.A

TRAGEDY.

[Continued from page 443.}

ACT THIRD.
SCENE JIHST.

"i

Charles and Isabella.

tihar. Excuse, t beseech thee, my mad boldness. If I bae
caused thy Elvira to solicit from thee a biicf audierce at a late
and unusual hour, an important occasion has urged me to do so.
/*.What would 'si thou ! wherefore dost thou not leave me to
myself ! Wherefore deprive me further of thai peace which I do
not possess
why do I meet yon !
Char.Alas ! Be not offended ! now, now I leave thee ! O
ruel fate, 1 leave thee and return to my wonted tears. Hear me,
thon hast even now dated to speak in my favor to my father
Thou hast committed a great crime, I come to warn thee ; and
may it please Heaven that I alone bear the penalty He assumes
the semblance of an austere companion, and he has given me
pardonever the earnest in him of darker resentment' A heart
prone to compassion is a deep offence to a tyrant. Thou most
excellent didst not think of this I come to remind thee and at
the same time to admonish thee, that in him Pity is but the
forerunner of every misery, a ter?or with which I was never before
acquainted posscss'd my heart from that instantO Heaven*
1 k-o\v not. His language was new to me! He showed nnwon*
ted tenderness ! Oh ! never, never again speak to him of me !
Is.Ho first mentioned thee to me and forced me, as it were,
to reply, but at my words his anger Seemed completely to subside,
and even before he had spoken with thee he complained tenderly
with paternal affection, and praised thee in my presenceHe is thy
father, he is thy father in a word ! and may it never happen that
I shall be able to believe that an only son is not beloved by a
father ! Resentment blinds thee, you imagine a hatred in bin*
which cannot have an existence I am lh occasion, wretched li
the occasion that thou Invest him not !
Char. O Madam ! thou art but ill-acquainted with ns both \
It is indeed not untrue that I am indignaut ! still I do not hate
him ! I am envious of a good which he has snatched from me,
and does not discern its rare value ! Ah, wer't thou but happy, I
should be less miserable.
Is.See ! thon tnrnest to thy wonted complaints despite of thee !
Pnnce I leave thee ; live perfectly assured that I shall well weigh
all my words and signs, before Philip hears me mention thee.
Still am I fearful '. but of the son much .more than of ihe father I
...
13

C I* 1
tCEXfi TBI aECOSB..

CAr- O noWe bejrt, ill-conversant villi disu-nsi ! whither bast

<Lou ta>i thyself !
but, who comes here
!
SCIXE

T.'.B

THIRD.

Girmet and Charles.

Char.What dost thon want ?
Gomes. I await die kin; wh'o h coming here momentarily. All
Prince.! let me enter meantipie into a par.uci|9<i"U ol (hat just toy
kith which the at length recovered favor of a father covers thee,
Assure thyself (so much influence as I hare *nlh hint) 1 always,
poke in thy behalf. 1 am still ready
.
SCKXE THE FOCBTH.

Gone*.Vastly insolent, hut still more imprudent *

spEXB THE FIFTH.

"

Philip, Leonardo, Veres, Gomes, Councillors & Guards,

VhiL Ho there' let none dare inimde a few, hut josi an4
fcitlilul, ait here ibis day fur unusual consultation ! Let every one
hearken to me ! but what horror possesses me even before I begin
to speak ! What a chill passes through my veins ; tears stand upuq
jnv brow, and my feeble voice wavering tremulous, rei'uses as i,l
w.cre, to give utterance to the feelings of my heart.Ain I how
ever obliged ? yes! I am obliged- '1 lie country claims it, not V
\\ ho would believe it ? I seat mi vsnf this d iy among you us ay
accuser, not a judge which i could not by any means be
i
And were not 1 to be the accuser in a case of such guilt, which
of you would venture to do it ! 1 see you shudder already ! already
at.li out; bonified, what will it be then when you shall have
beard me pronounce th,e name of :7~-Charles !
Leo. Is it thine only son ?
Per.At4 of wh.at crime is he guilty ?>
PAi/.By an ungrateful son my peace has been robb'd. That
blessing which each ot you in the bosom ol his family enjoys,
much more happy than me ! In vain I tried clemency with him
in vain mild tir.uuess and by turns affcclionute incentives to
virtue Insensible id example and, iniicatiea and sii.l more regard
less of menaces, h,e. ndut.il one crime to another and to nicked
guilt, frantic audacity ! Yes this day he reached the climax of
evety fierce excess? To-day when I bad given him fresh 11 nqu.estionable proofs of my excessive indulgence be gave me, to day,
the last proof of unheard of impiety. Scarce had ipe luminary that
brings lis day the bright witness ol all my labours, departed to
light up my other kingdoms, till with the shades pi night,. (fiend;
l/ to the traitor, another horfjblu conception sprung up iu the

I 483 j
taund of CharlesTo lie avenged for his pardoned cringes, be moo
ted towards my purl men t ; will) u parricidal sword* lie dared' (p
arm his hand; He already approached me liom behind he ah\ady raised ihe sword, lie already aimed it at the nnpi elected side
of his Fullier when bilmld un iMitxpeelcd scream came upon
me from a different direction. Beware ! IMiilip, Beware ! It wax
Rodrigo wlio was coming to me. 1 felt 'at the very moment as
ft were a' blow glancing by me, 1 lonked behind, at riiy feel I
beheld a nuked sword, and in the shadowy underlain light I saw
my son making oil in rapid flight. 1 have told every thing. If
there be among you one who can accuse him of another crime
^f-qr if theie be any u bo can clear 'him ol this Ah speak truly
and learlessly ! ^lay heaven inspire yon to thut degree ! This is
a tremendous business ! Weigh it Well () judges. 1 look to you
(or the sentence of my son, and at the same time of mysell.
Gomes. -What dost thou require of us Q king, cap we betray
Philip ;' betray oarselves. But run we plunge a sword into the
bean of a Iniber ! ulus, urge us not to a stern measure.
/,eq. The day may perhaps arise, O King, in which the
truth heard' will he displeasing to thee; and ns, who shall have told
it tlt.ee, thou shah even wish to make soiry for doing so!
Per. Tiuth cannot hurlTruth is sought after, let it be told.
PAi7. The father does nol heat you here, it is ih Kipg who
hears you.
Gome? I shall speak then first. I first will brave the anger ol
a faiber! Thou an still a lather and by a purposely severe, a dis
turbed rather titan a threatening countenance, it may be easily pet'-,
ceived; that il lliott accusesl Chillies, thou ucquilicsl thy son and.
art not willing lo enumerate nor perhaps knowesl nil ihe crimes
of thy son. To propound a compact with the icbcllious Balavians,
appears in Charles ' a light error : now behold a letter taken from
bim, a wicked' letter in which he contracts for our ruin, and at
(he same time his infamy. He dares' tp treat with the Frcpch ; yes, with
|he abhorred French Here, here you may read that a Unfile is
infamously made pi' "Navarre, Catalonia, and other tich provinces an
nexed lo the Spanish crown by the valour of our ancestors, sub
sequently preserved by us with, our blood and sweat. The execra
ble hire of execrable assistance afforded to the son against his
father,' so great a pari ol sued a kingdom lo go as a prey lo the.
French and tjie remaining part would he oppressed with impunity
by the* deceillul son of a king, who "in judgement and valor could
rule singly nol only a part oi lliu world, but ihe whole Brholdw lial a lute impended over usOh! dear and necessary, and ^((ired
are thy days lo us, O king ; but no less necessary and sacred is
the glory of the Spanish empire Horrible dcsiie to attempt the
life of a kj-iiig and of a Father but to betray a( one and ihe same
(line bis own honor, .and lo sell hjs gounj,ry is (suffer, me to say
it) perhaps equal!/ horrible The first thou canst forgive; it relate

I 484 ]
to thyself! hut canst thou the other? Thou eimst pardon the other
also but when I see it superadded to such unheard of excess, what
else can I pronounce than death.
fV.Death ! what do I hear P
Vhil.O Heaven!
t.eo.Yet, who would believe that t should be able to the
execrable names of parricide, traitor and rebel, to add others ?
There remains one however much more execrable, such as a man
cannot, as it were, venture to pionounce.
Yhil. And is there!
Leo. A sacrilegious lying despiser of just HeavenOh Omni
potent tiod! do thou now expressly loose the veracious tongue of
me thy unworthy yet laithlul servant. The day is arrived, the
hourthe moment is arrived, in which thou ovevthrowest with one
flashing tremendous look of tin tie, him who has been long insolent.
Thou makest me rise me the champion of Thy sublime insulted
Majesty Thou breathcsl a preternatural boldness in my glowing
bosom, a boldness equal to the occasion. O earthly sovereign ! hearken
thou to that which the King of kings, speaks to thee by
ray lips! The prince, whom I consider so impious that I will
not date to call him the son of my king, the prince dors not cease
to pour from his impure mouth words of horrid contempt with
which' he insults Heaven itself, not less than the minister o' Heaven
the wicked profane scoff daringly is raised up against the Tem
ple; he reviles the worship of our ancestors he applauds the hew,
and if he should vcign one day we should behold the sacred altars
upon the ground and in the mire, trampled upon by sacrilegious
feet; as much as now we do honor to them with prayers and in.
cense! we should see
what do I say? however if the thundering
swotd of God should delay so long I shall see nothing of it He
shall see it -a ho will not rather dare to die. I shall not see turn'd
aside the sacred veil which shades from the vulgar the troth which
they do not understand but believe, nor that tribunal which repie*
tents upon earth the justice of Heaven (andv renders it more mild
to us J shall I behold overthrown as he has sworn ! That tribunal
which preserves to us unhurt and pure the faith to the shame of
others; may Heaven blast his impious vow ! may the hot rid fiend hope for
it in vain ! O Philip, do thou raise thy look to the Sovereign
King. Thou hast honor, empire, life, evtry thing from Him he
can withdraw all if Heaven is offended and is the offender thy
sou In him, tu him is written the fatal sentence, read it and never
hinder it Heaven throws back its vengeance upon him who
disturbs it.
Pr.Tt is not a small matter to find free sentiments in the
mind under a hard despotism Thought freely expressed is not
always free, and sometimes even vileness clothes itself with pre
tended frankness ! hear me, O King, thou shall see what it is to
sjjeak with trecdom, hear me and thou shall see another load of

' L*

486

frankness The letter is .suppositions and the charges are too much
at variance one with another : either the Prince has attempted ari
impious parricide with his own hand, and in that case to what pur
pose the foolish contract with the rebellions Batiiviuus, to what pur
pose the French aids, to what purpose the dividing with theru the
paternal heritage ? wherefore his own kingdom dismembered ? But
if he hoped by these latter impious means to make lor himself a
destiny more mild
.vherelore attempt the dreadful parricide; why
thus attempt it P to undertake so much and to stop short in the
midst, hy what - persuaded ?
II he had attempted tt in such a
manner I should hold him more than criminal mad he knows
that iu defence of the king, persons nun friendly to himself) keep
watch continually with emulation, who derive from thence lustre,
old, and power ; hast thou seen that thy son was fleeing, ah perhaps thou
last no; seen htm but with the eyes of others Let him come, let him be
heard, let him tring forward his reasons -that he shall not make any
attempt upon thee ( these days) I swear meantime, I swear it upon nay
head in what not sufficient upon my honor ; of which neither
the king nor Heaven itself, which has the disposal of every thirty
is mister, now wh;ii shall I say of the impiety with which feigned
godliness has dared to condemn him the words of holy indignation
-[ shall say
vhat avails it that I should say, that under a most
sacred veil always called Religion such persons have clocked wicked
designs then artfully mixing up personal objects with celestial, at
tempt to make it, moreover the minister of horrible deception and
of blood who does not know ? I shall sav indeed ilrit the Prince,
as a youth, has ever shown himself of a humane heart and deep
feelings agreeable to his pleasing aspect, and that he has grown
up the sweet hope of his father from his most tender years, and
thou saidst it, and every one believed it, \ further believe for man
can never arrive at the height of wickedness all at once ! I shall
say to so many repealed outrages he never opposed any thing but
patience, silence and tears ft is true that tears are yet frequently
crimes and persons have drawn anger from the (ears of others. Ah
thou art a father, do not be angry but commiserate his grief
that he is not guilty, but much unhappy ; but were he a thousand
times more guilty than every one here proclaims him, a father never
can, nor ought to condemn his son to death.
Phil. Pity at length I find in one of you, and pitv T follow
Ah, I am a father, nnd yield to paternal affections my kingdom,
myself, nil I abandon to the sovereign disposal and inscrutable
will of Heaven. Pel haps Charles may be the minister of anger from
on high, let mv kingdom rather perish, let Philip rather perish, but
let my son live! I acquit him already.

Gomex Dost thou regard thyself then as above the law -To what
purpose call us hither ? Thou could'st easily have broken the law
without us; let him be absolved, but if oue day pity should happen.
to he fatal to thee
Per.In truth pity may be fatal since I see pity most un-

rf

486

wonted arise. But whatever may be the event, this it not a council in
winch I dare seat niysell longer Fume is still dear In me, but life
not! The world shall know that L would not dip my hands in
innocent blood let him remain here who withes ii, 1 however
raise my prayers to Heaven, the truth is fully known n> Heaven
but what do I say ?-only to Heaven, ll I turn no uttenlivc
look around me don't I see that each one fully knows the truth
---that every one is silent ahotii it, and that to bear it and speak
it has been lor a long time a capital crime here.
PA/.To whom dost thou speak.
Per -To the father of Charles.
PA/". And to tby king
' Leo."-Thou art the father of Charles ; and who does not see in thee
the anguish of an afflicted parent. But thou an the father of thy
subjects too, and these hold in estimation the name of thy sop, as
much as he disregards it.'1 he Prince is only one, they me num.
berless persons he being saved, the others lemaiti in peril ; btris
guilty and all the others are innocent, ait thou uncertain between
(the alternative ul) sating one or nil.
PA i.-Let not the dagger be plunged with repeated blows into
my heart, cease yeoh 1 have not strength lo bear you any
longer, let a new council be assembled, free from any presence,
and let the priests also sit in it, in whom wordly affections are
silentlet the troth he oi.-pla;<ed in the nmLi ol them and muy
the truth alone he heard Co lhn in d dilemiii.e! my presence now;
may too much injure the right or perhaps may impose too heavy
a charge upon my firmness.
SCENE VI.

PAt7. Oh how many ttnitors ate there? can Peres he so anda.

?k>uk? ah no
but in truth what discernment, what impetuous
Sridc! has a soul ol this churacter been born when 1 ru^n ? and
as it lite while I reign?

ACT IV Scene t.
Cliar.Oh darkness; much more nppropriate to this horrible pa
lace, than the bright day ; how much ihy return pleases me, not
that during thy continuance 1 place my grid in repose; hut 1 do
not at least behold so muny vile and wicked countenances. To speak
to me here in the name ol Isabella desires (he luithiul Klvira; what
will she ay to me; Oh what silence; in the midst of lemorse,
among unhid cures, and guilty suspicions, does placid slumber des
cend to possess the eyes ol traitors and tyrants : that (sleep) which
ever shuns the oppressed innocent? but watching is no hardship to
Die, 1 divert niysell with my thoughts, and with the deur image. of
ever) beauty aud every virtue. JU u grateful to me to return here

48T ]

wheie T saw her, and heard words which alas, were life and death'
In nie nt one and (he same (inn- ;ili ; yes, frorn that i:i ltd mo
ment I fancied myself somewhat less unhappy, bill tttore guilty
than I was whence then iim in me fear mingled with horror. U
it apprehension ihe due penally of crime ? Penalty ? what crime have
] ever committed; | wus. not siletn and who could ever conceal in
silence such intense lovepeople are approaching. It must he Elvira

But no wlint imi muse do I lieai , whui persons are coming ?

what blazes of light; armed men lo me ? away traitors!
SCKNK

II.

t?MIipK Charles and Soldiers with arms and torches.

Char.Oh Heaven, is my father preceded by so many swords?
Vliil. At night, alone in these apartments, armed, what doestthou ? what thinkest thou ? whither hearts! thou thy uncertain steps
speak.
Char. And what shall I say, the Arms which I snatched up at
the iippioHch of armed insolent' biigniids, fall from me at ihy pa
ternal aspect ; art thou their ieader? Thou a lather; dispose ol uie
as ihou pleaM'si. But tell me is there need ihai you should use pre
tended reason; and ol what description 'Ah lulhtr picleiided rea^
tons are unworthy of a kingBut excuses, are still more unworthy
pi me.
Vhil. Audacity possesses thee, audacity which is evet the com-,
panion of the greatest guilt thou mukes.1 of feigned respect an in
famous clci'.k to thy luilhless, ambitions and atrocious mind ; thou
dost not even excuse thy sell; Better is it thai thou shoiildesi open
thorough passage lor thy rage; disgorge now ihe deadly poison
Which thou, shutlest up in iby heart audaciously oh braggart
toilless all thy wicked intentions worthy of lb) self.
lt
L'htn. VN bat ought 1 to confess? spare, oh lather superfluous in
sults, give me every punishment that is must ciuel; ii 'will be just
if it's agreeable lo thee.
PAt7.---At this premature age, Oh how hasi ihou arrived at this
most eminent degree of peilidy; when hast ihou learned ihe ail of
iniquity that though caught by your king in this hoiiible crime
thou dost not even change countenance.
CAar.-r-\\'here have I learned ? Born in thy pala.ee.
P/n7.Thou wast so, miscreant, for my misery and sham*.
CAm r.And, why ueluyesl thou any longer to repair thai shame,
why not make thyself happy in shedding the bloou oi ihiue own
sou ?
PAif.Thou my son ?
Char. But what have I done ?
PAi7.Do you ask me thai? dost thou ask that of me?does

488

not remorse tVien scourge ihee? Ah no, already it is a long time

that lliuii hast not known Mich a thing---or the only thing which
ihi.ii fs-elvst for not having accomplished a father's murder.
V/iar. A Father's murder; what do I hear? I a parricide; tbou dost
Hot believe it thyself ! what proof, 01 information, or suspicion.
Vhii. Information, proof, certainty, I derive all from thy male
volence.
Ck*r.~-t)o not alas, urge me to the savage efccess of over step
ping the awful harrier which the laws, Heaven, and nature have
placed between the subject and king, between the sol and lather,
PA//.Thou hast already fot a long time passed it with sacriligioii9 del: what do I say, ihou hast been ever a str angel* to itlay aside the lolly scnlinieiils of rigid virtue whiih ill become thee,
spe.ik such as thou an ; disclose likewise thy warty treasons pro
jected and already accomplished. Go on now, what fearest thou P
Js it that 1 shall be less great or you less wicked. II thou speakesl
the truth and hidesl nothing then yon may hope, bat if thou re
insert to speak or concealest,-Tremble.
Char. 1 s|>eiik the truth ihou foinst me lo it, I know mvseU
too well, llierelorc 1 cannot ftar, and I know ihee too well, there*
fore I have no hope, do then recall thai unlucky gilt* my life
which is thine. LSul_iny honor is my own, thou canst not take
it, tor hast thou given lt~ 1 should be most guilty if meanness
should persuade me to confess myself guilty, thou shall see me
breathe my last breath here; prejiaie for me a protracted cruel
and oppiohrioiiK der.lh, death has nothing which can avail to de
base me ; thee only not myself, I pity, O Father.
Phi.- Audacious! darest ihou in such a manner to give an ac
count of thy misdeeds to thy Sovereign !
Char. An account, than hntest me, hi hold my only crime,
thou art blood on lhiisty lhafis my only excuse. Thy only right is
absolute sovereignty.
Phil. Gnards arrest him, there.

Char. This is she only answer of a tyrannical king, behold I

resign my arms to chains. Behold I hare my breast to the sword,
wherelore delay. Is it only to-day ihou hast begun to be cruel,
thy sijju is already day by day traced in the dark character of
blood.
I'AiV. Let him be taken from my eyes ; let him be shut up
in the darkest dungeon of the adjoining fortress. Woe if any of
you leel pity for him !
Char. Do not fear that, Prince, thy ministers are equal to thy
self in cruelty.
Phil. Let him
mum force.

be dragged

by

force

from my

presence, by

SCENE

3
lit.

Jmbella and Philip.

ha.Oh ! Heaven ? hat do I behold ! alas.
. ;
Phi. What ails thee madam ?
U*. I heard the whole palace mournfully resounding in every
direction with melancholy cries.
. Phi.Thou heardest melancholy sounds it is true.
ha. Did I not see the prince dragged by force from thy
presence.
PA j. Thou didst see Well, it was the same.
ha.Thy son ?
P/i.---Does my consort grow pale and tremble at seeing him
dragged away.
ha. I do terrible f
Phi. And thou hndst good reason that thou trembledst, it is no
alight proof to me of thy affection for thy consort : thou trem
bledst, hut let thy heart be reassured, the danger is vanished.
ha. Danger ! and what ?
Phi. Great danger did I run, but nevertheless my life is secure.
ha.Thy life!
Phi. To thee so dear and necessary, is in safety.
ha. But the traitor ?
Phi.He shall have the merited pnnishment of treason. Fear
not any more that I shall ever again open my heart to weak
pity lor him ; that time has passed away, now 1 shall listen to
the dreadful cry of justice only.
ha. But what, what plot?
Phi,O Heaven, perhaps the p'ot was not contrived against
me alone, to him who desires the blood of a father if he hates
his step-mother equally with his father, iliu blood of a step-mo
ther will not appear anything.
Is*. Against me? what sayest. thou qlas, the prince!
Phi.Ungrateful he forgets thy, no less than my many favors.
But do thou turn to thyself and live happy, confide to me alone
the impartial care of securing thy peace with ray own.
SCBNE IV.

T. Oh words, O looks, with great difficulty do I recover my

senses, what did he say : may he have spoken perhaps of rny love.
But no it remains shut in the very depth of my heart, and those
eyes flashing eager and fixed upon me, alas, he poke then of step

t <*> 1
toother, what did he say ef my peece. Ob Heaven ! and Wfeat
did I answer, did I name the Prince? Oh wilh what cold dread
do I feel toy sell' congealed. V\ liitber. whither does he 1 un, ab wbitLtr,
What is he preparing for, and what do 1 do ? 1 should Wiab_ u>
follow him, but iuy last fail me and my strength.
SCENE V.

Gome* and Isabella.

Corn. Pardon my too great boldness, I imagined the lung to
te wiili thee.
\ta He left me hut a little while ago.
Gom.I must seek him elsewhere then, doubtless he will be kn
patient to hear the event at an end.
\$a.The ereM, stop for a moment, tell me.
Cam. If thou hast been speaking with him he will have fofly
explained his doubllul expectation of the fin*] sentence.
Isa.-~.No he spoke to me in dark and ambiguous words of *
treason, but
Com- Otd he not mention the name of the traitor.
Im.<01 the Prince.
Gum. Tliou buowest all then, I carry of the council.
l*tf.Of what council ? alas, what dost thou catry ?
Gom,For a lonp time the deep matter Was under discussion
and at length was concluded unanimously.
loo.What ihen ? speak !
Gom, '1' lie sentence stands written in these leaves-and nothing
id wanting to it, hot the King's consent.
fs<i. And its tenor ?
( mm. Tt pronoOnces death ?
i*. Death? unjust orteaf. Death? and what crime is then in
bim '
Gom- Has the King been silent to thee concerning it?
Isa. He has been silentyes.
Gem. He attempted parricide !
. _ .
To. O Heaven ! Charles ?
Gom. The father himself accuses him and the proofs.
Isa.The lather and what proofs does he pjie ? suborned proofs!
eh certainly thou hast another cause which is bidden Irom me,
disclose to sne bis true crime.
Gom.His true crime/5 and can I fell it to thee, if thou
knowist nothing of it P can I tell it to thee at the cost to me of

my bis?

- -

- i -" ,>miJr-09

'491

Isff.Oh what dost thou say.

I can betray thee.

}
Hut what! dost

thou fear that

1

Gom. I !.-t ray the Kii>;_i if I say any thing of the King.
%bt sa strong cause bast thou to know the truth.

But

!/.--- An inquisitive wish alone impels me.

Go//), In conclusion then, what does tins concern thee ? The
Prince stands in gleat danger and. it will possibly have to impli
cate thee. But alter all what' ehw art thou to him hut a step-mothi-r ? at present his death cannot injure thee, it might on the contray he the road to tin* throne, l thy sons.
Believe tiiou the
(rue origin of- Chailcs' misdeed is partly love.
I*a>-\Kb>t ato yon- saying?
Gout.The love which the King hears for thee. He wnnk) be
much more delighted in having a sou of thine to succeed, him,,
than thill Charles should ever do so.
Jso.I breathe ! Dost thou daro to suppose such a hasp design in me.
. H it hi. i date to tell thee the thoughts of my King, such are
901 mine, no, hut
1m.It is tine then that w,b,ich I neves tip to this day believed,
that a lather a lather himself, could abhor his own son !
Gom. Oli how much madam do I
Uieriu known the king so little!

pity thee if thou hast hi*

ha. But whom do I believe! thou surely

iiom.t surely yes;
cations of pity. I break;
^-(t is too true however
Other chine than being,

I iipw discover in thee no unceitain indi

the dark silence which oppresses my heart.
the prince unhappily is not guilty ot any
the son of a homble lulher.

lsa.Thou makest me to fear exceedingly.

Horn. And 1 also fear no less than th\ sell ; dos;, thou know whence
arises the hutred ol tlie lather. It is. base envy which excites it at
the beholding so much genuine virtue in. the s'in the lalse virtue
ol the wicked parent is piovoked, H^e sees that ho is altogether
loo ii'ilike himself, and impious, he. had. rather that his. son were
Extinguished than, that he should surpass, h.niisell.
lsa. But more unjust is the council thau the
demn one to death who. is iuuoceni.

king, why con

(Jom. And what council would oppose itself to such a kingbe himself is the accuser, the charge is lalse every one knows it
to be so, but every one trembling lor himself assents to it silently;
the shame of the unjust sentence falls, urjpn, us. We arc the basexuiuisicis, ol bis rage we are so indignantly, but to no purpose,
whoever should, refuse would speedily fall a victim to his fury.
Isn. And can. that which 1, hear be true; I lemain dumb with
amaze ineut : and does then; remain no hope, shall he peiish unjustly ?

Oom. Philip it gifted with dissimulation above every thmg-

He will wish lo appear doubtful hi firs!, He will make a great
display of grief and pity perhaps even be will put offthe coming
to a decision foolish is he who would put faith in his. grief ana
pity, oh that in that heart profound any might be diminished erea
the smallest particle by the protracting ol tbe time.
\sa. Alas if thou hast not a sutij hardened equally with his own
by crimes, alas, Gomes fee! some pity.
Gom. And what can I do ?
\ta. Perhaps thou.
tn
r
Gom. With ineffectual and well concealed teivr.s I ran honour
tbe memory of this jusl man, but nothing further can I do.
. Isa.Ob who ever heard who ever saw so atrocious, a case?
Gom. I should be ready to sacrifice myself so that I might
save the Prince and Heaven knows it; 1 already feel my heart
gnawed and tormented with the remorse which the fatal intimacy
of such a tyrant draws with it but-?

I*. If remorse is sincere in thee thou canst be of no little useto him, yes thou canst ; not _ is. it necessity thou sbouldcM destroy
thysell thou art not suspected by the kingThou canst seemly
fiord the means of escape lo him, and who would desire to betray
thee; who will know? Perhaps even some day, Philip reluming to
himsell may tewurr! the generous boldness ol the man who taved his
honour together with bis son.
Gc;. And should I even venture upon (his, would Charles
agree to ilP know cm thou how haughty lie is, 1 loiesee his tage
already in merely hearing the name ol flight and ol coudcmualiuuf
ah ! vain to ten ilv his un.tauu-u.ble spirit is evecv announcement of
death ; nay even I see him already obstinately purposed to perish.
Add to this that my very advice and assistance would be suspici
ous and odious to him, he believes me to be like tbe king.
Tsa. Hast thou no other obstacle f cause me to behold him,
conduct me to his prison, surely thou hast admittance there; I flutter
myself to be able lo persuade him to flight alas mm; deny ma
not so great a favour; the hours of the night ate bit, advanced,
meantime prepare thou the means ol his escape, and defer, tbe pre
senting the lutal sentence which perhaps is not expected so soon by
the king: I beseech thee let us goThou shall have Heaven ever
propitious, I pray thee let us depart.
Gom. And who could refuse thee so compassionate a help, I an
willing to attempt it at any price, let us go Heaven will Dot suffer
lo perish those whom it does not desire lo perish.

t 493 ]
-.
ACT Y 8CBSE I.

t.

Chqe*What but death now remains fpr. me to fear, what to

tope; might 1 but at least have i,l free from infamy uli 1 must
expect it irom the cruel Philip lull of igoomy; one single 'doubt
Worse than every death, pierces, my heart, perhaps he is aware ol my
love, In lys Aasjiiuj sinister looks, I sa\y sparkling in spite of him
I know not what new lury, and his speaking with the Queen, but
a little while ago, this calling me and closely observing; what, may
it be? oh Heaven what may it be il his consort has become sus
pected by hirji at the same time: alns,, already perhaps be has cruelly
punished in her the unceriuin crime since the vengeance of a tyiaut
is always used to anticipate guilt; But il our passion is unknown uv
every person and as it were to ourselves even, l.\ what nieuns could
he be informed of it?, perhaps piy sjgljs baye betra/vd me? but
what do 1 say are the sighs of love known to a wicked tyrant; is it
necessary lor suet) a father to penetrate into my love in order Unit
he may lie mode atrocious and unnatural ; Hatred bad readied it*
height in bim, and could uo 'longer be put. off surely the day
h> come ili which I shall make satisfaction to bim with my
head ; ah., treacherous crowd, of Irieiubwof my happier fortune, where
ate ye now? I desire nought from you except a sword; but n sword
ly means of which 1 might avert infamy none ol you will present'
to me, what voice do I perceive ?, the. iron door is being unbarred
what is being bt ought to me, let " beai_who may n be?
SCKN8 it,.

lsuhella and Charles,

Chtir,Who do I see?- art thoji the Queen * who has been thjr
guide5 Ob what cause brings, thee' Love, duty, pity?- How hadst
l)iou admittance ?.
"-''-.
I*a. Oh, thou k nowest no|. yet all the horror, oftliy cr,uel destiny;
thou art charged with parricide, tfiy lather himself accuses il|ee. A
wicked council condemns thee io death, and nothing is wanting to
its execution but the consent of the king.
Char.If nothing else is wanting it may be soon executed.
Asa. And what! dost thou

1191 ttembje ?.

Char, \l b\ now a long liino that I wisl| only to die, and it

is well known, to thee oi whom 1 ask nothing, but to mi Her me
to die where thou art k is lutrd upon 'meyes the horrible
accusation is haul but not, unexpected ; die J must, but can I
tremble
when thou announces,! death to rue !
-'"
iIsa. Alas, do not. speak of death to me if thou lov,esl me
give way for a little to necessity.
Char, Me to give way ? loo well I pctceive npw; that, yo.t^ have
undertaken the cruel otiice of auasiug mo; the iniquitous Utther
has coiumitted it to thee!

t 4* )
Tm. And canst thou believe it Prinee! nie minister ej PhU
Hp"s anger !
Ckar.r^o for he wouhl have power to cnmper thpe
besides
be has. perhaps, deceived ihee, hm how then has he suffered lhee
t cane lo roe in this, dungeon'
Int. Poes Philip know it ? oh, Hon.ven woe if he should know it?
I ho r. O what saves! thou ? I'hilip knows all hue who
then transgresses his rigorous commands ?
Xfii.Gomes \
Char- What do 1 hear, ah what, what abominable terrible fatal name hast Uiou etle'cd !
I.v.i. Ho is, not such, an enemy to thee as ihon think 'at.
Char. Oh Heaven, il J, ever, believed him. a friend to me, I
should blush more Irom shame lba.ii, anger.
Isa.He alone however cow feels compassion, for th.ee
It is
be who disclosed to rac thy father's atrocious puippse.
CAar.---Kush! uh. loo credulous thou! what hasi thou done'.
why lo..d luiih to such piiyJ If the most abandoned servant o
an iinoi. us King told lhee nie truth he deceives thee by meant
of the ,iulb.
Isrt. -Mere words, what do they signify; thou canst experience,
presently no doubtful effects ol his pity if thou snrreiiderest
tbyseil to my mirealies, it was lie who conducted me hither clan
destinely and even now lie is preparing the means lor thy escape,
1 have pcisnaded bim. to it, ab do uot delay, convey thyself away,
flee Irom, tli y father, from, deadi and from, me ?
Char. Whilst thou, hast time, ab, do thou thyself escape far;
lioin me. lioines does not, pretend pity without n motiveah inia
what an insid.ious. snare basl thou tuileii. Yes, uow indeed J da
tremble really, what doubt now remains, fully has Philip penetrated,
into the secret ol our love.
i ,\ii.Ah !_ no, a little ago I saw him whilst thou wast being
dragged by main loree Irotn his presencehe was turning with
dreaiilul anger { listened lo bim trembling, and ihy veiy selfMine suspicious agitated, me, bill 1 remember h's speech alieiwurds
diieet.d low ards me, and eel lain i am iliai he thought every other
thing oi liiee except ion. 1 remember in line tliut be taxed you
Willi having a Resign even perhaps upon my days as Well as bis.
Char It would be necessary thai I should be equally vile
fnorc vile ibnn htm to penetrate, all the .hidden nays of the in
tricate, infamous hi by rinih," but it is quite ceriani that it is a musk
for horrible treachery this sending you to me, that which he ( up
to this lime) only suspected, be now undertakes to substantiate;
but let il be as il will, do ihuu lum tliy steps quietly from una
111 laleii j; lace. In vain thou -believes! oi boj.esi thai domes vflU

I 49$ 3
exeTt himself in my behalfstill more vinly than hopest, even if
fee wished it that I would ever consent to it!
Im.-*-And can it b true than that t pass my unhappy days
amid such persons.
Char.True, ah too true indeed, delay hot now any longer
leave mo, save me from the most deadly anguish, the pity that is
in thee offends me, il thotl dost not feel it lor thyself go if thou
boldest thy life dear.
Ixa. Is Hie dear to me ?
Char.~'My honor then, and thy fame !
I*a.Sbbnld I abandon thee in slith peril !
C/tar.To expose thyself to such peril ? and of what twe is it;
thou bestraycst thyself and d'ist not save me,-- -one single suspicion
stains virtue, also deprives the tyrant ol the wished joy of being
able to accuse tbee of even a guilty thoughtgo conceal thy grlet
repress thy sighs within thy bosom ; with a dry brow and unmoved
countenance it behoves thee to hear niv death. lie those
sad days vhich thou shall survive me consecrated to virtue;
land if thou shouldsl seek a solace for thy grief-among so ma
ny guilty there remains one most **cellcnl Peres whom thou
km. west well and he ctn secretly mourn with thee, and thou be
able to speak sometimes with hint of hie; but meantime, go, de
part, make me not to grieve, nlas do not tear my heart to pieces.
Take a last adieu and leave me go, t have need of all tuy
firmness, now that the fata! hour ol death draws bear.
8CKNB

lit.

Philip, tsbella and Charles.

Phil.The hour Of death has arrived ! it has arrived, I bring il
to thee.
Isa. O sight, 0 Treachery.
Char. And I am prepared for death, give it lo me.
PA/7.Thou shalt die felon, but first thou shalt hear my terrible
accents, you wicked couple ! infamous, f ktlow the whole/ yes the
whole, that horrid flume which Consumes yon with love, and ina
trith fury, has been long known to me; oh what suppressed emo
tions of i age, what a lengthened silence. But at last yon have
both fallen into my hands, wherefore should I grieve ; ought I to
employ complaints, what I wish is vengeance, and 1 shall have if
toon; I shall have it full and unprecedented. But it pleases me
meanwhile to enjoy yuut shame. Thou wicked
Lady da
Dot suppose now that I ever loved thee, or that to a jealous rags
my hi east has ever been a martyr; Philip does not repose bts
deep affection in a base habitation such as thy heart, nor can the
lady who deserves it betray it. Thou hasi committed an offence
against me iby princenot thy lover. Thou bust couumiuaiett

496 <]

the sacred name of my consort; I never. cared for thy lot*, bat
so engrossing a dread of .thy sovereign should linvc dwelt in lhe
that even the mere thought ol. any other afli-ctibu should hut have
Haivd to pivseni itself.
Thou seducer, thou vile one ;To thee I do not. speak. To the*
nothing, is strange; the ciihie was Woithy of thee alone; mauilest
prufiis, (too much so) although I dissembled 1 had in your guiltysighs, your silence, your emotions and the grief uhich I saw and
still see, enclosed in your guilty breast. Hut why do I any longer
sneak; yoni crime has been equal, jour punishment shall be so
like wise.
Qhar. What do t hear; there is no crime in her; what do I
say? crime ; there is not even the shadow of a crime in her;
tier lle'uri is pure; I solemnly Swear that it never felt so wicked
si tiilthfc; she sturtely knew of my love till she condemned it.
!
Phil." i'he lehgth lb which you have I olh proceeded I welt
know ; I know (hut iliou -hast not yet raised ah alldacionR im
pious thlittghl towards thv Collier's bed. |-lmbu thou dotie so shonldst
tijoii be how living ? but the accents of horrid passion buve procecderl-frem thy impure mouth, and she listened to them ; that is
enough.
;
Char. I alone have offended thee, nor do I deny it,a slight
ray ol hope shone upon my brow but her virtue instantly dis
persed it. She listened to me, but only to my confusion, and only
to extract from my breast the wicked unnatural passion; unnatural,
yes, it is now too much so, hut it was at onetime legitimate: she
was mv spouse, thou knowest it, thou gavest her to me, and thou
coulds't better give her than take her away.
. I am indeed iu every way guilty, yes, 1 love her, and she waa
taken from me by thee. What further enns't th"H now deprive
me of? Satiate thyself In my blood; Fxpiate in me the rage of
thy jealous pride; but spare her, she is perfectly innocent.
Phi!. She is thine inferior in daring, hut not in guilt, though
it should please thee, madam, to be silent, even thy silence convicts
thee in my bosom (nor does it avail thee to deny it) thou art
Consumed hy a horrible flame, too much thou betravedst it to me
when I spake to thee purposely concerning him a little lime ago.
Why didst thou keep reminding me that he was my son ? Per
fidious, thou daredst not to say that be was thy lover; Hast thou
really betrayed in intention thy duty, honor and the lawless man
be has ?

l*a.Silence in me proceeds not from fear. A vast stupor seized

me at thy incredibly deceitful, savage, ferocious disposition. 1 re
call at length, 1 recall my astonished spirits,
It is at length my dtity to repair the great fault of being thy
wife, heretofore 1 have not offended thee. In the presence of Hea
ven, in. the presence of the Prince 1 am not guilty, la my bo
som ceruiuly.
. ' .
' ~'i

X * T
Chdr. A false ftly for mn move* her words* All do not listen
to ber!
J*<. In vain dost thou try to nave mr, all thy words are to the point
of father exasperating in him the festering woujid. It is no longer.
{tie lime lor excuses. It is now to fly from his presence which
no torment equals since it may have been given to a tyrant to
feel sometime the force of love. I will tell tln-e dying, that it .>*
thou who fastened the bond* of love between us. I will tell thee
that 1 bad eveiy thought turned upon liiin from my early years,,
that 1 had placed every hope upon him. It was both a virtue and
thy command to love him thin. And who made it afterwards a
crime? Thou, by dissolving the snored bond ni iTst it so; It was
easv to absolute will to untie it, but can the lie tube ihus changed?
within my breast he remained tix-d, but I was not thy wife till such
a flam* within me w:ts dormant. I\> my a'tei years, to my Iriitite and perhaps to thee, 1 looked for its extirpation.
Phil. I then will certainly do :h:t eiTeoinally which neitliet thy
virnu; nor thy ve;irs have done. Yes; in thy lailliless blood 1
shall quench the impure flame.
lsa. Always to spill blood, and still spill more blood, is thy
only w.irth but can that be the price for which I can ever bes
tow upon tliee my affection withdrawn from him thou as unlike
thy son as vice is to virtue, thou art accustomed to see me
tremble, but 1. tremble no longer. 1 was silent heretofore, with
regard to the wicked passion which thou believed'st in in-, now
lei it he manifest, now that I discover thee to be more wicked
mate it.
Phi.He is worthy of thee sind thou worthy of him.Tt re
mains to see whether you will be as brave in dying as iu
peaking.
,

SCKN'E

IV.

Gomes, Philip, Isabella, and Chariot.

Phil.Host thou fulfilled my commandsdost thoo bring what
I told ihee ?
Gom. Peres hns Wen stn} bed to death ; behold the dagger still
reeking with his warm blood.
Char.Oh sight !
Phi. In bim however the traitor nce is not yet extinct. But
do thou Charles meantime behold - what recompence I reserve for
my friends.
CA<ir. How many, ah me! how many deaths am T to see
before dying, thou too Peres; oh rage; I follow thee already.
Where is, where is that sword which atvails me, come let it be brought
to me; oh ! might my blood alone queucli the buruing thirst of
this Tiger!

Int.Oh that I alone had the power to satiate hi* Buttonl

fury.
PAi.Cease your infamous emolatioa. Lo for your choice this
aword or ihit bowl. Oh ihou despBer of death chose tltou list.
Char.O awotd, Mill warm with innocent blood, I choose thoa
as mv liberator. Oh, thou nnhsppy lady.lliou bast said toa
mncbto lliee there remains nothing ele bnt death. Rut the poU
aon alas choose; it m\ be less painful; this is the last adrka
f an ui.happY passion-collect all ihv courage within thee-Wru>ld
me! I die (he stubs himself.) Follow my example, 1 lake the
fatal bowl-delay not !
Isa.Alt yes, 1 follow thee; oh death ilion ait joy to me. In
tlietPA7.---Thon sbalt live thenin spite of thee thou shall lite.
T*a.-Suffer me
O cruel punishment, he is dead
and "I
PAt/.Separated from bim, yes thoti shall lire, days of lameotatioti thou shall lire! thy prolonged grief shall be a consolation !
me, and when I'neJ Iroivi thy iniamous passion thoo shall desire to
Jive
theu 1 will give thee death.
1.To live by thy side; lo endure the light of thee; It cat
neret be, no ; I will die ; my sword will supply the place of the
howl ihou hast snatched from me.
JVilh great rapidity laying hold of PA/7*, dagger she slabs herself
Phil.Hold! bold!
Isa. I die.
Vhil.O Heaven ! what do 1 heboid !
1m.Tlion beholdesl thy wife and thy aon die both innocent
and both by thy hand. 1 follow thee beloved Charles.
Phil. A culprit dripping with blood and such blood! 1 obtain
a complete and drvadml vengeance, but am 1 happy ? Gomes
let tl.is atrocious affair he hidden from every mortal. 11 thou art
aileiit upon it lUou wilt save my fame and thine oh u life.

riKTS.

:>

P !> ]
AS MARKS ON THE CULTIVATION OF THE STKUR CANtf
IX TBI

Is? AM)

OF CEYLON, BY JOSIAS I AMI.1KT ESQ. W. 0. S.

l~untiuucdx

Marshy lands, those which cannot he drained with facility, and all which
are subjected to Ions continued floods, are totally unfit for planting Many
grounds howevej, that caunol be irrigated, if of good soil, and in a climate
subject

to

periodical

rum*, are quite

capable of

\ave seen

canes flourishing upon the Hsuienne

above

sea level, and

the

very little doubt

producing i;ood oops I .

rid^e, certainly 2,000 feet

exists

in my

mind -thai they

might he u>okii with the assistance of manure in many parts of the Cinna
mon Gardens on tbe const; I would not answer for the white sandy soil, but
there are

tracts in these

Gardens of a loamy description, and to then? I

jjow allude.
The nature of cattle- food cannot be too highly estimated, if the stock b*
vol

properly attended to, the I'lanter exposes himself t tit

the power of taking off his crops when

loss of a week's work from illness, weakness

Consequences very fatal to

the

risk of losint?

it is uiost imperious to do so; theor defect in

interests of the estate;

condition,
the

entails':

sugar boilers

mill feeders, rape cutters and the host of men employed about a mill, and
who, from, the natum of their habitual work, can scarcely be advantageously
employed about any oilier, are thus thrown idle, and these men, instructed
Tviih great trouble and expense inijsl be kept on at unproductive wages.

Adds

to -this comparatively minor expense, the loss which accrues from the canes
getting out of season, the alteration of the juice nud consequent inferior pro
duction cf sugar, but still more tbe enfeeblement of the stole from which the
canes would have been cut
throwing out all

at a period when termination bad commenced,

its. vigor through thu cut .surfaces of the cane composed

of one mass of arteries, a rapid exhaustion

of its powers and

premature decay of the plants which ought to last far

consequent

years. These

evils,

may occur from accidental circumstances, but never to the extent which may
be entailed by the failure ol *lockv without which tjo cune can be brought to
the mill.

I am th<t worn urgent upon this particular in consequeuce of the

present epidemical, or rather endemical disease, which afliicts the colony, but
even were not this unfortunately the case, it becomes no

less

the duly of

the I'lanter to take especial care of the cattle ; limiting them to w hat food
may be found in the jungle and pasture lands during Black time, is exceed
ingly injudicious, for u* the stock be kept low whilst idle, no stamina will be
found in them to enable the endurance of the fatigue required in a w to king
bollock,

(ittinea-grass as it grows here, is notoriously useless during the dry

season upou the uplands, it runs up immediately on the first rains, its juices
are then purgative and without nutriment, recourse must be had to semi or
dty. food, and therefore 1 am anxious to impress upon the mimis of flauiurs

r soft ]
<be Imperative necessity or <<ediroiiup considerable portion of tretr
to lb culture of Indian Comthe green leave* of this plant alonp uilh the
flower are very nutritivethe lakini; them off after flowering does riot injure
the quality nor reduce the quantity of the grain. In be produced, on the con
trary it would seem the juices (lowing to the leave* and Bower concentrate them
selves towards the cob, giving it an encreaaed devalopement, the quantity of
leaves produced ia

so great that they cannot be consumed immediately, tba

extra purtion therefore should be dryedthis description of bay is so valuable

a to form tbe sole food of cattle in other countries
the year, when the oxen

are

during six months ia

daily ploughing three quartets of an acre of

Jand with Iron ploughs pr dragging a heavy k.ml fifteen miles1 he addition
of a feed or two of the corn itself daily at other periods, will keep then, in
condition for any work that csu be required from them.

Thus it become*

of the most paramount importance to pay attention to stock lands, and still
farther is it interesting because the manure produced by

the cattle is more

important economically speaking, than any extra expense that may be incurred
by keeping them

in condition.On tbe point of manure fur sugar lew) hi

this colony, I am aware it has been objected to a* expensive, and that tin
idea of duiug no more lhau out-cropping

the soil bus been prevalent ; th

consequences of Ibis fatal error are so obvious as scarcely

to permit then;

to lie discussed it arises iu a certain extent from the great number of arm
constituting an estate, which gives the pioprietor the opportunity of saying I
will work out 2(1" acres and when that is exhausted, there i* plenty more
to fall back, upon ! and pot only is it said, but it ia contemplated to carry
it into I'Ueci It would be much to the interest of the Planter to create a
permanent estate be would thus keep his land in order, the buildings and
improvements in

machinery

and apparatus might be made complete which

would not be the raau were it necessary to pull dotiit and build up again ia
order to get near out-lying fields, or if the buildings rtmuintd stu;iouaryM
would become no small item of expence to cart two or three thousand ton*
of canes, two or three utiles. Hitherto when land has been taken

iu for

runes, nothing more than opening a trench in the hatd ground aud putting
in the plants ha* been done; us I have before remarked the productiveness
of the soil is extraordinary and everything that can be expected aud mora
than

ought to

afterwards, the

be expected is produced ;
trash remains

the capes are

pu the field aud up

cut twelvemonths

attention is paid to the

ground for Home time, when at last a tardy raking together of the trash take*
place, in the meantime mils,

vermin of every

description luxutial. iu lliU

refuse, deposit their progeny or eggs, said the hist food they hind is composed
of tbe nascent shoola of the ratloons ; the plant ia

thus left to the tender

mercies of every limit: tnat can poasibly be Injurious to it, whilst it is struggling
endeavouring

to derive

xtourialuueot trout a soil hard a* a brick, and the same system

to force its

way through

a trampled surface and

continued

I 501 }
Wittl the lapse of threo or four years find* an nn productive stole, whilst ball'
culture been employed, these very

stoles \rould bare continued to product

canes of an avetage crop for ten years at least It must however be arkuoW.,
ledge.l iq this place, that experiments only have been made and the cmleairour to produce canes at the lowest possible cost seems to have guided these
experiments and it is a matter of wonder only

explained by the extreme

fertility of the toil that the results have been so highly satisfactorybut hoar
infinitely more so would they have been bad the plough, the hoe and the manure
ripen made use ef in order to do the justice accorded to every crop in.eTery
part of the world! I hare

no doubt but that fiuffalnes may be traiucd to

tile plough the Elephant in not suited to this work and the

Island, cattle

are too small, it would be a great desideratum to get op a stock of Cape cattle
mod the experiment is well worthy of trial they ought however to be yoked
by the heada as in the South of France and in all the Peninsula Iho antpial lias one-third more power, witli this yoke than

when drawing from lbs

neck or from the collar, for not only is his whole weight applied to the loath}
bin the immense muscular power

of (be neck is exerted to overcome

any

obstacle Whenever practicable, the plough should be used the saving is very
great and the work done infinitely more efficient than

cau be the case with

the miserable tools in use In the Island called Maorontlf* the real cane hoe
should have a surface at least as iai ,:e as a good sited garden

spade and

the eye should bo so constructed as to permit the haft to be aet inwards it

syith an an^le of 45 degrees by which means the line described tyy the work,
ninn when swinging the hoe from above his head will as nearly as possible
coincide with the position of the hoe-blade when,

it reaches the ground and

i\ will necessarily enter with facility o,r vn other words the complete effect, of
tile instrument will be produced ; with such a 190! 39 men can trench an acre
of land 18. inches deep in a

oommon working, day With

nearly at right angles to the haft,

is lost in consequence of the line of the tool upon

verging from, the line of sweep

the mamootie set

fully one half of the effect of the stroke

in w,hich it

striking the ground di

has been directed Some veire

good tools for stiff laud are crescent shaped in the cutting edje, to rmiug a
eort o( prong on each side these Instruments are very effective.
In the preparation of the soil I would recommend all land.1.1 be broken up cfiuvplelelv in October or November, and trenched up at Iciist two feci, high, it may
lemain in this stale until the rains have terminated which may b<$ supposed to
occur towards the end of the year, and when it si i 11 retaius sufficient moisture
to render it easily

worked, it should he broken up by

two J>1< lij^hini. s, one

across the other, a niouUi later It may bu . stilted again and in the planting
season one p'ougbing and harrowing should be given, a double breasted plough
may then be run through it to lorni the whole lines, or two turns of a single
Isreasted plough will answer the same purpose, various opinions ere maintained
tospectiu^ the widUi ul uruucli ami bank,

uiany giving

lUciu each lUree and

*en four feet.

I am inclined tg prefer the greater distance from tke onaM>

rjienre it affords for ploughing aud manuring and cleaning, the boles are. mad*
vith tbe bin' 13 inches in length, and 10 or 12 wide in (be bottom of the
furrow made by (he pious;!) aud at a distance of tbree feet iuterval and
two or three, or mure plants ure placed

one

parallel to each other in these holes

and niovi'd with about an, inch depth pf soil, tlie number of plants being re-.
guliUfd by tb'i quality of tbe aoil,

Upon planting, so much has been so well

written it is tint necessary to dwell furiher; if

tbe weather continue

dry

wlim ih,. shoots nre eight or ten inches high it will In- advisable to irrigate but not milf.sa the soil in tho immediate
viously losing its

neighbourhood, of the

plant be obi

moisture weeding should bo perfoimed now : care

taken to work only when the land is not wet

being-

or pasty or on tbe coutrnrj

hard and cloddyall work duue at such periods being useless aud injurious,,
the weeding and gradual earthing up of the plants may be proceeded with as
occasion requires.

I uiu not aware if October or tbe

proceeding month be

so dry as to require irrigation, this will be ascertained when the period ar^ ,
rives, and before then the. constant earthing up will have left trench between,
the rows of cane*, through which

the water

is conducted

aud dammed

four, five or six hours according to the absorbent qualities of the soil.

for

When

the land pits dry in January luou irrigation must be preceded with at inter,
vala of thirty days or less, if necessary, but care must be taken that no pe
riod less than thirty days must elapse

between the

last irrigation and the

grinding, otherwise the juicv will not be uf the proper specific gravity as soon,
as- possible alter tbe

cane is cut and carried off, the trash

must be

raked

into smuil heaps and burned on tbe field and the plough set to work between the
row*, and again across the intervals, manure at the rale of 30 or 40 loads per acre
should then be thrown into the furrows aud hoed in by hand, which operation at tu*>
same time loosens thu soil abound the stoles und enables them to push out new;
shoots and roots with all facility, pretty nearly the same operations must be
practised as during tile preceding year

ami so

on consecutively

root gets exhausted; when this occurs they shoujd

off and burned the laud will bear an excellent

until the

be ploughed out, carted,-

crop of

when that is off it may be trenched up lor a six, mouths

Indian Corn, and

fallew as in the .

first instance, and may again be planted with equal success as at the com
mencement, with this advantage mat the Sugar
go on cropping.

(To it Continued.)

improves m quality as you

T fi03 ]
fftjr Satijcrcr.

(iF.KvtUl.
COMtTJPTIOK
OP IMPlUtAL
on tbe best Way of dressing a tin-hot.
'some. For the aspect of the times in One other example, a Sim y- to] I fact,
Will
teach us h,.\v far offi el subser
' general, it may be enough to take one
'isolated feature from eai-h .if the three viency could carr} tbe deyadatiou Of
great sections uf national lid' (tie court! pi rs.uir.l cliai aeter. *Vhilc Tiberius was
fhe senate-house, and the haunts of on the throne, Titins Saninu.fc, an associate of the murdered (Jeruiaiiicus*
tho people.
was e'nticed by one of his own frit nds
The reign of crime in the imperial
to enter his house, and tii- re tv press
jKiluct 's during the worst times was a
rr. ; fearfully exaj gorated prolnt ype of those Vis indignation against the tyrant.
Three senators, hidden between the
Jorrors which stained the petty courts ceiling of the chamber and the ronfiif
of Italy in the latter of the middle
the mansion, were allowed to overheat
. . ftges. The Human series of executions
the ennve i Station; arid as soon as Tilius
and confiscations, indeed, prompted sole
ly by suspicion or avarice, has had had quitted the place, the four traitors
concocted a memorial to the 4mpirnr,
DO equal since its own days; hut there
in wlch they Bet forth the seditious
.iia* e been tppeated likertesses of the im
words they had heard spoken, and boast,
perial mixture of lewdness, cruelty,
ingly related the infamnna meanness
.Unbridled passions, extra v&gance of
by Which they had purchased their
refinement.
There was much of a
knowledge.
modern taste in Nero's favourite amuse

ment of scouring the streets bt night,

.insulting everyone he met, and some
times returning to bis palace soundly
beaten; a recreation emulated succes
.sively by the Emperors (Mho, t'ummodtis,
and Heliogabalus. Hut we can conceive
. ourselves studying the history of the
Sforza or the Ducal Medici when we
turn to the darkest pHges of Nero's
nnals; when we see him in his closet
with the hag Locusts, trying experi
ments npon poisons ; when he enters
the banqueting -hall,, and in the midst
.of his court sees bis victim Hritanuicus
flrink the portion, and fall on the floor
in convulsions; when wo watch tho
speechless horror of the spectators, and
.behold among them the unfortunate
Oetuvia, the sister of the murdered man
.And the wife of the murderer; and
when, in the same night, amidst durk.hcrr, rain, and tempest, we follow the
corpse to the Campus Marlins, and
. see it thrust into its nameless grave.
The general reputation of the Imperial
Senate may l>e gathered from two sources;
from the younger Pliny's contemptuous
'description ol their monument on tho
'Tiburtine road in honour of Pullas,
the freedman of Claudius, with their
act in honour of the same worthless
favourite; and from the bitter but well,
merited satire of Juvenal, in which he
presents the Fathers" of Koine as

iniled together by Domitian to deliberate

The populace: we shall better under

stand when we come to examine the
public amusements, for these were their
sole occupation. If they rereived their
allowance of food and hud trt circus
arid amphitheatres opened t Iherh,
they were contented and no st loyal
subjects : for those reasons they did
not hate the bad Emperors; ori the
contrary, they usually like I iliem better
than the good ones. Most of these ex>
tlirivagant and profligate despots scattered
their treasures freely among the mob,
while their cruelty exhausted itself (tit
the rich and noble.
These the Em
perors might always destroy with im
punity ; but it was not so safe to
attempt executing any member of their
own household ; it was still less safe to
provoke iite imperial gnard ,- and, pam
pered and wretched as tbe Roman
populace were, an attack on them would
have been the most hazardous adven
ture of any. Nero, with his mad jollity,
his shameless exhibitions of himself,
and the unequalled splendour of hie
spectacles, was tVe idol of the rabble;
who loni.' hung garlands on his {tomb
npon the I'iuciaii Mount, believing for
many years that he was stilt alive, and
would return to punish bis enemies and
restore the regretted days of licence.
Tn the year of grace 69, the troops
of Vespasian stormed Rome, which wjs
held by Vitelline.
The two parties

t 604 j
fought in three divisionsin the gardens
of Sallust, among tho streets of the
Campus Martins, and at Ihe rampart
of the Prretorhin barrack. At all these
points the populace of the rjtjr swarmed
out and looked on, cheering the com
batants as they would have done ill
the amphitheatre; Ihe wine-sHops and
other scenes of guilt stood open ifa the
middle of the fight ; the people rf sorted
to thera to spend the minify which
thev plundered from the dying and llie
dead; and, when the baitle was over,
they hurried to the. Avenline lb see
the capture of VttelHaa, their late
favourite, followed him while he was
dragged, with his hands bound, across
the Foriiin to Ihe Geinoninn Siaiis,
and shouted as thev beheld the soldiers
kill him.
Managers and At'THOBB. Of some
hundreds of pieces sen! promiscuously
by unknown writers lb the. manager,
during my appearance in that capa
city, there was but one deemed fit
fhr representation, and amongst those
submitted by men of note many were
found fraught with danger, and distnis-ed accordingly. As one instance
among the various others to which
tie is subjected by candidates for singe
honours, mey be mentioned this anec
dote, A tragedy of nearly 600 pages,
srritfeu by an author totally Unknown;
and likelv ever to remain so, was
sent me by one particular friend of
mine, and strongly recommended by
three others. The first was a moon
light scene, and in Ihe opening soli
loquy thereof the hero, gazing on the
Unclouded glory of Diana, accused
her, despilp her beauty and alleged
chastity, of intriguing (with whom can
the reader imagine?) with the "Man
in the Moon." I mention this little
circumstance merely to designate the
ditto-nlt position of a manager in on
ly <ie deportment of his vocation, for,
owing to my rejection of this pyra
mid, one of the friends in question
has never spoken to me since.
WsLMKOToVs ExTnAVCE TO MADRID.
The population of the capital had
been reduced, br the French occupaHon and devastation of the country,
to a third of its 'formeT amount; bflt
the people in the surrounding districts
were highlv excited when they heard
tbat Joseph, and bis eonrt were re
aring; ami whan the long and mourn

ful trains act out, on the evening at

the lllh, for Toledo, crowds trodi
all quarters hastened to Madrid to
witness the entrance of their deliverer!
on the following morning, long be
fore Ihe British soldiers were seen oa
the Ouiidarama road, every balcony,
every window, every door was crowd
ed wtlh eager mullilndes: joy beam* d on every countenance ; and the
general exultation bad led the peopla
to array themselves in the best re
maining allire in their possession, so
that it could hardly have been ima
gined to what an client misery had
previously existed. No words can ex
press the enthusiasm which prevailed
when the English standards were Seen
in the distance, and the scarlet Uni
forms bei'lin to be discerned through
the i-rirwd. Amidst a countless mul
titude; wrbtaghl Up to the very .high
est pitch of rapiUrobs feeling; amidst
tears of gratitude and shouts of tri
umph j through throngs resounding
with exultation and balconies graced
by beauty , to the sound of military
music and the phtup of military pow
er the British army made their en
trance into the Spanish capital, not
aa conquerors but as friends, not is
oppressors bot deliverers*
On that
day their chief drunk deep of "the
purest, holiest, drahght of power."
The crowd came forth to meet him,
riot wilh courtly adulation or bought
applause, but heartfelt gratitude and
deep enthusiasm ; for famine had been
among them, and the wan cheek and
trickling eye of the multitude who
thronged round him to kiss his band,
or touch his horse, bespoke the mag
nitude of the evils from which he h*d
delivered ihetn. Incredible were the
efforts made to manifest the universal
transports. Garlands of flowers wens
displayed from every doot; fostooris
Of drapery descended frnfn every balcony ; men, women, and '.children
came pouring out of every house to
welcome their deliverers, eagerly press(ng on them fruits and refreshment*,
and seeking to grasp the hands which
had
freed their country.
In tho
evening a general illumination gava
vent to the universal rapture: all di*.
tinctiona of rank, sex, and profusion
were forgot ten in the festive blare}
and the servitude of four years seem
ed to be lost in the intoxicating joy
at aVa first motaentt of emancipation.

604i

on th. pavement of the porticoes. Thefe

' In Rome ami Ihrnughoul Ilnly there were three regular sources from which
were outrages in abundant*?! v.'hicu the Italy was supplied "frith these fiufortaimperial police durst uol out look. As tittte beings. The first was opined by
examples, we may select crimes which the frequent wars of the Republic iiud
Kmpire, irom all of which were de
Seem to have together forme. 1 a. pro
fession practised by numerous bands of rived large numbers of prisoners. There
miscreums; " ki in.ippiii/, highway rah- was, secondly, an established slave-trade,
berys and sumsebri-akmg. The lii'st of which had its piTucipal marts ill Hie
the**! offences is uicuiioued iu the Inst Islands of Greece-, on (he coast of
ages ill" the Republic hs committed oil yria, 4ilJ in Egypt, receiving ils sup
travellers; it again oixurs re)>ea'*edly plies partly from the incessant wars of
under the Emperor; Hadrian attempted the Asiatics, aud, peril) frmn kidnap,
to stop it by an ordinance for shutting ping tttid piracy. 'I bete wen;, thirdly,
Up .toe private slave- prisons, in some the slaves already imported, whose
of wait-It the robbers contrived to con- descendants were retained inthu families
ceitl their captives; but the private Of their proprietors' If the bondmen were brought from.
duti.'eous and the criihe lasted as long
as the Empire. The victims appear Ui a distance, their birthplace had great
have bteu sometimes detained lor 'years influence in fixing their Veputatiun, their
at :h;tTil laiwnr; bnt the frequency of 'price, and the nature of their work.
the outrage can scarcely be accounted I lie native's ol Asia Minor were the
fori unless are believe that the ban lilti usual attendants nil feasts, and the
held th.-fr prisoners id ransom, like the wretched mnllsleiS ef their masters'
rjiodern Italian robbers. One of the debauchery; the Alexandrian tireeks
ni<>sl noted haunts of the ancient high- were thought to make the best buffoons 4
iraymen was the Pontine Marshes, which the Greeks of the continent were moat
Jay conveniently near the high-road frequently employed as teachers, artists,
from Naples to Rome ; and another, or artisans; the errand-porter, letternot less infested, was the Galliuarian carriers, and other labourer b, were se
Wood, which stretched northward from lected from ill nations-, bnt ofttnest
CnmiE, and by its situation enabled from the Northern regions both *>f Asia
the bandits to saily out on those per- .and Europe; the Dahi&ns, Geas, and
sans of rank who spent the summer Germanic tribes, were the favourite
tnrirtths >n the roast of Compania. gladiators ; and the barbarians bfEriWhen the military police scoured those tain,

'
' Italians
'<"<<- were
-- pleased
'
>
whom
the
forests and guarded their outlets, they to think n tall and handsome race,
produced by their vigilance another commonly (Inured s assistants end'
end worse Tvil; for the villains then supernumeraries In the theatres. To*
fled to Runic, hid themselves ami. 1st mountaineers from the hall- conquered
the labyrinth of the overgrown city, islands of Cersica and Sardinia were
(as . modern thieves flud themselves considered the ftefcest and most useless
safest in Paris or London,) and com of all menials : indeed, they very fre
mitted ilarinj robberies by night on quently destroyed themselves; and the
the persons and dwelling- houses of the natives of the latter were contemptuously
Citizens. * *
characterized ill a current proverb;
Every one, however slightly ac.
' From the seventh centurv of the
.city, the market places in Rome were, quninted with antiquity, has heard of
on tb. days of sale, not at all unlike the * biuniti Arla\ b' ff have the
what an Eastern slave-bazar is at pre- distinct notion of Roman newspapers
sent.
The slave-merchants, a class conveyed by thefnllow'mg extract, thou/h
notorious for dishonesty, aid strictly we think the * fact' of their Pxisteiiea
watched by the police, kept their vic
has not been so mne" * '""''"oked' as
tims in large Warehouses, whence they Mr. Spalding iHfers. News, indeed,
seems a necessary of l'f", I I,, re weisj
Were brought out in crowds, and ex
hibited in barred cages, with descrip- a class of new writers in lndja; in.
tive labels hung round their necks. Europe, wanderinir pilet'"" nd_ nr%
. If a slave had been recently made like answered the purp<,8e of penntcaptive) a circumstance which greatly a-llners, till the post-offi"" arose, when
increased his price, he had his feet we hud 'writers.' too, "rh dncolated
chalked ; if he was not warranted sound, manuscript reports; and persons of a
--JI rap win put upon his head; and similar kind, though under different
if a customer desired it, he' whs made names, ma? be found in very barbarous
to couie out of bit Ueti aud ahuw Ills paces slates of society.
< SUTHS AD SLAT SYSTEM IH HOME

605

Hitrarts from ^JrrioBuals*

feHSCT

O*

ColOCBBD

1.1GIIT

OK

fuMv-I planted id it box vimcurled cress seed, and so arranged

bottles of carmine fluid, chroniaie of
potasta, acetute ul copper, and mi sul
phate, ol ammonia that all hut a small
space of the -earth was exposed to
light which bad permeated llhrvc fourths
of an Inch of tlfuse medra. Fur some
days the only apparent difference was
that the <-*rth continued esnip under
the green aud nine fluids, whereas
it rapidly dried under the red ami
jeflowV The plumula burst the can
ticle in the blue nnd green lights be
fore ally chancre. was evident In the
pother part*. After ten days, under the
blue fluid there was a crop of cress,
of an bright a green as any which
'grew in full light, and far more abun
dant. The crop was scanty under the
green fluid, and of a |iale' unhealthy
colour. Under the yellow solution but
two or three plants appeared, yet they
were less pale 4haU Ihuse winch grew
In green light. Beneath the red bot
tle the number nf plants which grew
Was also small, although rather more
than in the spot the yellow covered.
They too Were at' an unhealthy colour.
I now reversed the order of the bot
tles, fixing the red in the plaf* of
the blue, and the yellow in Unit of
the green ; after a few days' exposure,
the healthy ' tesa appealed blighted,
while a few more unhealthy plants
began to show themselves from the
Influence of the blue rays in tile spot
originally subjected to the red. It is
evident from this that the red an 1
yellow rags not merely retard germi
nation, but positively destroy the Vital
principle in the seed. Prolonged ex
posure uncovered, with genial Warmth,
free air, and indeed all lhat ran in
duce growth, fails to revive the blighted
vegetation. I have repeated the ex
periments many times, varying t' e
fluids, hot the results have been the
same. \i this time I have the above facts
strikingly exemplified where the space
cove-vd by the bichromate of potass*
is without a plant.
fhose results
merit tie attention of those who areik-aged in the study of vegetable
economy. Alheiuum.

Air Trishmak's tai or his Fathkr.

" Well, it's a good many years ago
my father listed in the North i ork,
just to oblige Mr. Barry, the landlord
there ( ' Ibr,' says he, ' I'hil,' says he,
' it's hot a soldier ye'll 1* at ail, but
my own mini, to brush my clothes
atid go errands, ,md the like o' that,
and the king, long life to him, will
help to pay ye for your trouble ye
u'ndeVstaiid'meV W'ell my father agreed
aud Mr, Barry was as good as but
word. Never a guard did toy father
mount, nor as much as a drill bad
he, nor a rnll-rall, hor anything stall,
save and except wait on the captain,
bis master, just as p'easant as need,
be, and no inconvenience in life. Well,
for three years, this went ort as I'm
telling, and the regiment waa ordered
down to rlanthry, because of & report
that the "boys* Was rising down there;
and the second evening there was a
night patty patrolling, with Captain
Barry, for six hours in the rain, and
the captain, God be merciful to him,
ink could and died : more betoken,
they said it was drink, hut my father
says It wasn't , ' for,' says he, * after
he tab eight tumblers comfortable' my
father mixed the ninth, and the cap
tain waved his hand this Way, as.
touch as to say. he'd have no more
'Is it that )e mean,' say* my father
and the captain nodded. 'Mueha,but
it's sorry I am,' says tny father, 'ba
see you this way, for ye mast bie go
entirely to leave off in the be^in, of
the evening.' And throe for him the
Captain watt dead in the morning.
A'sorrowful day it was for my father,
when he died ; it was the finest place
in the world ; little to do ; plenty of di
version; ahd a kind man he Was.
Well, then, when the captain was
buried, and all was over : mv ather
hoped they'd be for letting hlro away
But, upon tny conscience, thev had
other thoughts in their heads} for
they ordered him into the ranks lobe
drilled just like the recruit* -they took
the dav before. ' Vloshu, isn't this
hard," ssid my father: 'here I aw an
ould vitrin that ought to be discharg
ed on a pension with two and six
pence a day, obliged to go capering

t 306 ]
Tiut th barrack yard nraetisini: the
goose stepj or some other nonsense
ttt hecomihg j age nor mv habit*;'
Tout so it was. Well, thin went on for
vine time, and, sure, if they were
bard on my father, hadn't he hit fe
venue, for he nigh broke, their hearts
with his stupidity ; oh ! nothing in
l'fe' could *qual him ; devil a thing,
t>o matter how easy, he could learn
at all, so far from caring for being in
confinement, it was that he lilted beat.
Every sergeant in the regiment had
trial of hiin, bnt all to no good,
atnd he seemed striving so havd to
learn all the while, that they were
loatli to pnnish him, the ould rogue !
This was going on for some time,
ben, one day, news crime in that a
body of the rebels, as they called
them, was coming down from the Gap
at Mulnsvick, to storm the town, and
brifii all before them. The wholi re
giment wast nf roorse nnder arms, and
teat 'rrreparations made for a bat.
fie; meanwhile patrols were ordered
to scour the roads, anv sentries posted
at enda turn of the way and every
rising 'ground, to give naming when
the boys came in sight, and my fa.
flier Was placed at the bridge of Drum
ming, in the wildest and bleakest pari
oi the whole country, with nothing
Itrt fnr7.ii mountains on every ride,
and a straight road going over ' the
top ol them. This is pleasant,' say*
toy father, as soon an they left him
there alone by himself, with no huVI an erayture In speak to, nor awhisVey shop within ten miles of him ;
cowld comfort,' says he, on a winter's
div, and im i x bnt I've a mind to give
you the slip. Well, he put his gun
down on the bridge, and he lit his
pip1*, and ho sat down under an ould
tree and began to ruminate upon his
affairs. ' Oh, then, it's wishing it well
I am,' says he, ' for sodgering; and,
had lnck to the hammer thnt struck
the shilling that listed me that's all,'
for he was mighty low in his heart.
Just then a noise came rattling down
ear hi-.n ; he listened ; and before he
could get ou his legs, down eomes
the general, ould Cohoon, with an or
derly after him. ' Who goes there ?'
*ey* nir father. ' The ronnd,' says
the general, looking about all the time
t" see where was the sentry, for my
father was snug under the tree. ' What
round ?' eys my fuhei. ' The grasd

ronnd,' says the general, more puzzled

than afore. ' Past on, grand round,
and God aav(* you kindly,' says my
father, putting his pipe in bis mouth
again, for ha thought all we* over,
D n your soul, where are you?!
say* the general; for sorrow a bit of
my father could be see yet. ' I'ts ben*
I am,* save he, 'and a cowld plae
1 have had of it; and av it was'ut
for the pipe I'd be lost entirely.*
The words was'nt well out of Lis,
mouth, when the general began laugh
ing till ye'd think bo'd fall off hi*
horse; and the dragoon behind hi m
more by token, they sey it was'nt right
fur him laughed as loud as himself,
' Yer a droll sentry,' says the general,
as soon as be could speak. ' Be gorrn,
it's little fun there's left in me,' says
my father, ' with this drilling, and psk
rading, and blugiiard'ng about the
roads all night.' ' And Is this the,
way yon salute your officer?' says tho
general. ' Just so,' says my father;
' devil a more politeness ever they,
taught me." ' What regiment do you
belong to ?' says the general. ' The,
North Cork, bad luck to them,' sajs
my father with a sigh. ' They oue, In)
to he proud of ye,* says the geueralv
' I'm sorry for it." says my father,
sorrowfully, ' for may lie they'll keon_
me the longer.' ' Well, my good fel
low,' says the general, ' 1 hav'nt more
time to waste here ; but let mo teach
yon something before I go. Whenever
your officer passes, it's your duty to
prnenl ottos to him.' 'Arrah, it's
jokln ye are,' says my father. ' No,
I'm in earnest,' says he, ' as ye might
learn to yur cost, if I brought you
Jo a_**nurtmartial.' ' Well, there's no
knowing,' says my father, 'what they'd
be up to; but sure if that's all I'll
do it with all ' the veil s' whenever
yer coming tiiis way again.' The Ge
neral began to laugh again but he
said:' I'm coming back in the even
ing,' says ho, 'and mind you don't
forget yonr respect to your officer.'
' Never fear, sir, says my father ; ' and
many thanks to you for your kindness
for telling me.' Away went the Ge
neral, and the orderly after him, and,
in ten mi nines, they were out of sight.

*
The General was walking
his horse down the steep part of the
mountain, followed by the orderly.
Mv father immediately took up his
mnaket off lbs wall, settled bis belts,

f * !
book tbc asbes ont of. his pipe, and
put It into his pcriel, making lornself us smart and neat J, okinc as he
could be, determining, h ou]d
r, i ., ,.. ni , nsk h.m f ^
leave to oo home, a) least for the.
nipht. Well, by this time, the Ge.
tirral was turning a shnrp part of the
cliff that looks down upon the bridge,
from where you might look Gve mUes
round on even- side. < Ho sees me "
says my falberj 'but I'll be nisi as
quick, as limself.' No sooner said
than done; for., cpniity forward to
the parapet of "the bridpe, be up with
his. musket to his shoulder, and pre
sented it straight at the General. It
Was'nt well there when the officer
pulled up his horse quite short, and
touted out, ' Sentrvaenlrv !' 'An.iu'"
says mv father, still covering hiin..
Down with your musket, you rascal:
dont you see u,"s the Brand round.'
To be sure I do," savs mv father,
never changing for a minute. 'The
ruujaa will shoot me,' savs the General. Devil a fear,' says m* fathar.
av it doea'nt go off of itself.' ' What
do you mean by that, von villain,?'
savs the General? scares ahle to speak
with fright, for every turu he ga.-,.
CD his horse iny father followed with
the gun'What dp yon mean?' 'Sure,
tut I presenting,' gays iny father:

blood an ajrea, do .y^n. jrsnt- m* to,.

fne next?' ' Viih lhut lbeGeuemV
drew a j;itl tr,,m vlih ),ivi,.r, nt.d
to.l delibirate aim at u v fniber; n\
there- they hotb stood for five -mi.
rjuies, looking at each ether, the' or
derly, a,ll the while, breaking him
heart laughini: behind ar rrk; fur,
ye see, ihe General knew at he can*
on that he might fire hv rhanre; andsorra hit be knew whit was best t
be done. 'Are ye v,.nyt i ps IbA.
evening up there, Grand Konnd?^
says iny fntbor, 'for it's tired I'am
gelling houldin' ibis so long?" 'Port
arms,' ahnuuyt the General, at lf-ou
parade. 'Sure I 'ca.n'1, till ver i assed,' says ray fjuher, 'ami mv haal'r
tremhliiljj alueady." By hive|:s!: t>
shall be thm," savs the General. ' Be
gorra, it"* what I'm afraid of,' ears
my father; and the worda wasn'nt,
out of his month heCnre off went the/
musket hang, and dwrn fell the (it.
neral smack on the. .wound senseless.
Well, the orderly ran out at this, an!
took him up arjd examined hiv amend-,
hut it waa'nt i wound at all, onl> th
wadding of the gun, (or bjv father'
God ha kind to htm ve see, ronl*
do nothing right, and so he hit offthe wrong end o/ the cairhhje when
he pnt it in Hie gun, and by raaaoq,
(here waa no Uullet in iu'-'

v.. i

v ,r. . . i

f 59 ]
SlETK^-M.iVrurAL JOURNAL KEPT ON THE Ht'NASGIRIA.
RANGE OF MOUNTAINS, AT AS KLEVATION OF
NEARWf 3,0W FEET.
OUO

Range nl
TW: at

Uate

Han

ol'
""*
6a.in3p.u 6pui;Iuche>- Jew
May'
I
iii

s. i WaA 7b-

t'rinnil
ill)!
Win us.

PREVAILING WEATHER.

Sdo; 3,25 light

V.ui.i

[.aw ruin with fresh breeze.

66,

60

V, Dp.

N.N 1.

T. I> 63

66

l,50o'Oo.

Do.

'aw ruin with, breeze.

eavy with frequent sltowt.ro.

8, '!').>.

Variabi-

T. 20 66

6U

-,501/ Do.

* -'

KSSi 89

00
(is

-,300.1>o.

Souin

$.23 M

?f

1).,.

Variabi

' K.24 OU

70

Do.

N.N.J-..

T.25 66.

70

4,- Do.

Vadabl

*F

GO

ia ^~ Da

Do.

67

Do.

D...

64 ! 68 j

67

"r17

04

V.l!

ra
a. 20

4,

2,500 Do!

N.K.

North

l io, a.m. -howery P.u.

Do, weather, fresh breeze.
>ine and cloudy weather.
. IneA.H. showers p.m.
:' ue and cloudy weather.
Do. ivi'ather.
.Tomly a.m. Showers p.H.
line a.m. heavy ruin p.m.
Do. weather.
, . uvy rain day nud niyht.

4,- Uo. , Variabl.

mo a.m. frequent showers P.M.

2, Do.

Do.

..lining il.t.i and ni^bi.

6y | 66

2,5^1 Do:

S.W.

leavy rain with squalls from S.

64

3,500 i,

Varial.i

I earl rain will) violent squalls.

Is

Do
4- 'l-t..

S.S.W.

Do. weather.

64

3,- Do.

S.W.

leavy rain with strong winds.

Moderate Willi frequent shower*.
iue and plojjdy day.

69
66 \ 70 j
06 'to! 67
64

IDo.

Do.

j i.!
I 63

66

2, 62

66

:; 62

>
r- 4 ..,
. 5 66
. s. 6 66
> / 6/

67

T.

68

66

2,6a D...

Solid.

7i

69

Do.

Variah:

70

6j

4,- Uo.

73

Do!

66

t. 8 66

73

i[. 9* 66

70

63

r. 10 66

I 71

69

i. ia 66

Sou a.

Do.

Do.

4,501

)o.

S.W.

Do.

Iqsjsfl* Willi frequent shower*.

S.W.

.lean rain
i and tqballv.

I,- po.

66

I fiH, Do.

Do.

t- l.:

74

71

2,73o|Do.

S.W.

Do. weather,

S.W.

;7

1 5,000;

riequcnt showers with violent squalls,

2,- [Do.

72

- ,-,

Variabl tine and cliiUdy day.

M.ii

Max
Sin

-,.0t i.j.)o.
1 69
I l
8.13 67 70

77

.iue am. showers p.m.

Variabi. lino and cloudy day.

Variabl* 1'ineA.M. showers p.m.

Heavy rain with violent squalls.
Finn and cloudy weather.
W. A,

PURY KEPT IN THE VALE OF DOOMBKRANEAR HAND*

WHI*i7fa .l/mr to /A* Hlh.Tbe rainy weather which came ou udJenl* .

the end of last wek coiiunned fur the first two days of this, since which we
bare Lad cloudy days wilb slight showers and strung breeies from ibc S. IV.
Thermometer Areraae.72 6 a. <7? c Jf. .75 8

S p. u.

?Ve->t 2-t/A .V'jy '" Me 3li/. Cloudy weather continued, with stror>s hreexes
abstost approaching 'to gales nf <rind from the S. W. these conlrniM-d semf.
riwic during ">s night as wei! a* day slight showers fall frequently and
sure or twice daring the week, ending in heavy, rains.
Theraxmeter
73 ; 8. a.

Average*-71 e

a. .76 and 75

2 r. at.74

and

Tb*sf strong winds and cloudy weather make tbe climate of the Kandiaa
country at this period of the year, very cool and delightful, enabling Euro
peans to remain out at all periods of the dav. Little dew falls at niicbt now,
and if there is any wind, none, ami it is Bravely required as the grruod is
constantly- kept moist from the euntrbual showers.
Pram 3\*t Mag to 7tk June.Colli winds and rainy weather every day
this week; Sun constantly cloudedwind from S. TV. and as strong as last
week.
Thermometer Kreramr. From 6$ 75 - generally in the evening.

to 70 6 a. M.73

to 75 D 2 r. at,

from 7;ft J*xe to Hie l4f*. After the first day of this week the rainy
weather cleared up generally arid the Sr..:- ha* been seen and felt one or two
ways, hat slight showers occasionally and during two nights henry rain, baa
fallen in this period ; strong breezes frmri the 8. W. continue and sometimes
aqnally nn thunder or lightning accompany these rains.
Thermometer Average.it*

6 a. at.763

to 77 s 2 p. M.74 -

8 r. *.

From Mth Jinle to 2I(. Dnring this period nearly all the mornings anil
evenings cloudy and calm, hut the middle of the day fine with moderate breesta
from S.' W. about every other day a shower of rain in the afternoon wh'cb,
while it lasts, isl generally accompanied with a strong wind, so that rain fa
no great quantity fulls at a time.
Thermometer Average.-72 6 1. at.76 2 r. tt.74 e 8 F. at. Little at
no dew falls at night.
Operations.The same as last month, getting in Nnrseries, and planting
oof, rlearitii; drains where the water stands and on the idder Kstates the
reeds must be kept under to give the trees all the benefit of the? rainslke>ssise ' Pruning, or rather " handling" the trees in hearing, is very necessary,
taking off from them all super abundant wood and suckers, whirh spring forth
rapidly now, while the circulation of the sap is vi.-orous, and which if al
lowed to remaiu would retard the fruit and weaken the powers of tbe tree
thereafter.
From the great and continued quantities of rain which hare fallen in the
interior during the latter half of May and greater part of Jane, it might be
supposed that all tbe cultivated productions of the Island (except Rice and
even this though nourished chiefly by water, requires the heat of the Son
to perfect it) would be tai-ved and chucked by tbe constant moisture, and ct.

*J_ ^M

r m 1
titer tntdonVeclly *#nnld, were the natnre of the rnontry flat, or sufficiently
level, to allow nfwntfr standing i'i the subsoil bill on the contrary,*! ll is
Brarlv everywhere heantifolly unrinlatins with derlicinus streamlets running
toward all the greater jtreimsthe rain as It falls is readily carried off. the
fonts sf the trees and plants esttrsctlne their nourishment froth if as it passe*.
This sloping nature *f the ground is particularly necessary for the Sngar fane,
and even the roftee tree (which is i-enersllv snpp > ed to reqnire so much
moistnre> soon diets from starvation In swampv ground as is often fonnd
on a Plantation whetl it ban been planted hear a ditch or ally low place7
where water stands.
, There is no donbt that _ the above mentioned formation of the country with
the ready means of carrying off water Kv the great, rivers, likewise rontributes
to the healthiness of the Kandian country in generaland tbft attpearanre of
its vegetation, tpon"h sufficiently luxuriant, indicates itin some parts where
the natives bare Ion*? cleared .and cultivated the eronnd, it has views eonal
to the green open meadow fields of Kngland. and in its more thickly wooded
parts it has not the rank, dense unwholesome vevetatian. of many trop'ral
t^nnntries. This does not appertain to the lower lands snrronodim the Kan
dian border, which in many situations possess all the character of tropical ve
getation, the absence of which in the "central province" furnishes ho proof
that anv th'm '9 wanting in the qualities of its soil for the Fhrrmean cnlti.
Tatoras the many thriving plantations of Coffee and Sugar In the vicinity
cf Kandy fnlly prove.
'
The health of coolies on the Estates remains good and th supply of labor
it plentiful.
B. 1),
ii) uli

ERRATA No. X.
I* Paob 446, Lis* 40.For "live and vtaelnblr mnuUt" read "lih* and
vegetable moulds."

COLOMBOi

tBtSIEB AT TBS BSBALD PK6S.

CEYLON MAGAZINE.
""'-"'- * >
>K>. kit.

AWci>T, ITB'4 1 .

Vol. I.

OUR MONTHLY GOSSIP.

AforNc'sfr The hoveftie* of ft literary nature lately started at home

' is one of a peculiar kind and winch shews limv fertile is the brain
of man in expedients for realising money. 'J'he novelty we allude
to is the * Post Magazltie." It has emanated from the recent al
teration in the postage of letters throughout Britain, which our
readers may remember is equalized to owe penny for all parts of
the Kingdom. Postage is now paid by means of stamps stuck on
the letter, and which may be bought for the pm pose, ot by means
of stumped envelopes. The originators of the "Post Magazine*
oner their periodical as a substitute for the latter. Tt is a simple
sheet of letter paper with one page or more of letter-press of ai
nsefnl description, the remainder being left blank for correspondence,
and the outside is stamped to go free by post. Advertisers in the
Magazine are entitled to receive a certain number Of copies at the
mere cost of the stamp, one penny, the public being charged three
half pence. The latter therefore, only pay one half-penny Tot the
letter paper and the page of printing, the penny being for the
stamp; whilst those who advertise get then letter fur nothing, only

t ai* 3
paving for the postage stamp, and thus write their friends without
cost and at the same time distribute their own advertisements. It
is a curious fact, and one that shows wheie the profits on these
speculations are, that this Magaeine will be given to the trade for
retail sale at a larger discount than is allowed on the stamped covers,
by government, and consequently more thun allowed on the stamp
affixed to* the Magazine. But the secret of this is to get the sellers,
chiefly stationers, to push them off in preference to the ordinary stamped
envelope of government, and thus raise the circulation which is all that is
wanted, for the advertisements are wlial pay in these matters: the
mere profit on the sale of the Magazine as a periodical, would bt
comparatively nothing, certainly nothing for the trouble and outlay
of capital on the undertaking.
In the Athenaeum of March 27tb we find some extracts from a
leitei addressed by Prince Paul of Wnrtoniberg, to the Avgtburf
Gazelle concerning, the charges made against Mt-bemet Ali, in the
Globe, of having destroyed and pulled down some of the noblest
architectural relics of Egyptian antiquity. The Prince, who lins re
cently returned from his travels, refutes these assertions by statements
of what he has himself seen and known* and they certainly en
tirely contradict the writer in the Gloke. He says, "Great negli
gence was shown it is true, at the commencement of Meheroel'i
Administration, so that strangers and travellers were permitted to
pillage and destroy with impunity the various specimens of anti
quity. But the oversight was the fault of the Pacha's neglected
education and ignorance of their historical worth. Later on the
Viceroy's learning the value of the same as woiks of art, be im
mediately took measures to prevent their total ruin. It is incorrect
la assert that the smalt temples of the island of Elephautina were
used us materials for the construction of the government building*
at Assnan. I lived there and perceived no symptoms of antique
building-stones, any more than in the state buildings of the modem
Sjene. Moreover there is abundance of building material in the
immediate neighbourhood of the town, so that ncrtiody would dream
of going for it to the ruins of the adjacent island." We agree
with the writer jn this improbability. The Prince also states that

513

two large temples on the site of Apcient I.utopolis, said to have"

been pulled down to erect stabling with, are standing to this day'
and being used as corn-magazines which circumstance will ensure1 '
their preservation. Other edifices, which the writer in the Globe'
would have us believe have fallen before the ruthless hand of Mebemet Ali, have in fuel been undermined by the overflowing of the
Nile, as may readily have been seen by any one who visited I
the spot, and may as easily he believed by those who have not
when they consider the extent to which the wateis of the Nile^
frequency inundate the surrounding country. Upon the whole wed .
are deciaedly of opinion that the Globe has not made out a case,
against the ruler of Egypt.

Those splendid productions of Raphael, the Cartoons, have had

a most narrow escape Irom destruction, owing to the carelessness of
persons entrusted with the charge of a arming the apartments in
which they are kept. It appears that a portion of the hot-air lubes
which pass behind the waiuscoatings, bad Irom some neglect become
over-bedted, the consequence of which was a part ol the panelling
ignited, fortunately, however, before the rooms were closed for the
day, so that it was perceived and the alarm given before any in
jury was sustained. Had the accident taken place only one hour
laurr, there can be no doubt but that the whole of the noble colhction could have fallen a sacrifice, lor there is nothing to protect
thjiu in any way, TheLouaon journals complain, and iustly so, ol the
very little care taken of the Cartoons wliich are exjwscd to public gaze
w ylioul covering, in n room w b.eredust, dump and heul alternately prepon
derate?. VVhy huve these paintings, no place in ouj national gallery?
\\ by do tbey not receive the care and attention which the first efforts^
of the first master so well deserve ? \N hy have lliey no building
lot; their reception such as sjiould, at once do honor to the painter
and the paintings ? These are questions asked irnd vainly, by the
literary journals at home. Tbey are questions which, should hqve
been put and answered hall a cerilury ago, and would nut have
been asked now, had it not been lot; the acrid- in before ni' . i C- <d.

.
,
(
,

.
}

'J he fine arts, without doubt, have more Irjtuds iLaii spuiei (t.. {
years since, but our heads are still loo lull ol politics, partus, rail-

*14

tt0.i. Leviathan steamors and Joiut-Slock-Cpnipanjea. to givtmuclt,

attention to sucl) profitless tilings as pieces ol painted canvass. We
irilj, however, hope for better things ; we already uetceive llie dawn;
of brighter days: and the time may not be far distant when the.
studio will be a welcome relief to the toils of the co.uuiing-house^
when the grey goose quill will be occasionally laid aside lot the,
painter's brush.
Of the man}' discoveries and improvements in science we know none
more interesting 01 moic important than the' agency of electricity*
and the application of atmospheric pressure to the purposes ol rail
way communication. The former has been successfully brought into
action as a powerful and cheap substitute for steam, as a very per- '
feci and beautiful means of engraving the most intricate design*
and for the purpose of speedy telegiaphic communications in all wea
thers and at all times. Several experiments have been lately mad*
with the atmospheric railway apparently with the most perfect success.
At a trial on a, new line of railway between Shepherd's Bush and the
Great Western Railroad, the loaded iraius were propelled at the rata,
of 36 miles per hour, and it was said that even a greater velocity.
could be obtained. The object of ibis novel railway is lo draw
trains over bills where locomotive engines, could Lot w oik, and
through which it has hitherto been usual to cut tunnels, thereby
saving a vast outlay of capital lo railway companies.
The formation and prosperity of a " London Professional Cho
ral Society" is another evidence of the progtess of musical taste iu
England. The Exeter Hall Festivals laid the foundation of much
spirited emulation in that very neglected branch of vocal music,
chorus singing. The zeal that has been awakened has not sprung
up amongst the great and the wealthy: it is the middle tanks of
life that we find coming forward lo redeem our national character
for musical taste. The time was, and that not long since either
when a chorus singer was only expected to possess strength ol*
lungs ; loudness constituted excellence, and the farther a vocalist
could be heard the greater talent was he supposed to possess. Now,
however, things are altered end public singers study the science of

f w }
*>e voice.

At the April meeting*, of this young society, Haydn**

seasons were levivcd in a niaiiuer that reflected the highest credit

on the performer^
'
The most recent novelties in the Literary world at home ar
the following, The Wood Spirit, a noul. V\ ho shall he Heir, a
novel. By JUisi, Ellen Picketing. The Election: a poem, Tb*
1' antasia, a poetic offering. By J. J}- S. holtson. Observations
on banks of Issue and Currency. By David Price. The Religion,
Agricultme &c. of the Ancient Kgvptiuns. by Sir Gardner Wil
kinson. Outlines of China. A suuiaier in Western Fiance. Edited
by Frances Trollope. 1 he CbuTch in it's relation with Truth and
the Stale. By Joseph RathLoae Esq. Selections from the despatches
of the Duke ol Wellington. Lockari's Autient Spanish Ballads.
Fellows' Latest Discoveries in Antietit Lycia. The Zincali, or an
account of the Gypsies, of Spain, liy George Borrow Esq. Strays,
from German Authors, by Sarah .Ivstiii. What is the meaning
of subscription! By the Herd, C. A**. tVidehovse, Canon of Aor-i
wich. Maximums and Specimen is of William Muggins. By C.
SelLy Esq. The Lift) and Literary remains ol L. E. L. By Lawan 11 l,iiu fund, her Literary Execvtur- Mince years in Persia.
By George Powler Esq. Mastem.an Ready, or the Wreck of the
pacific. By Cajit. Marryatt. Journal of a residence of iwo years
and a half in Great Britain. By Jeehanjeer Xowrojec and tfir*
jeebhoy Merwanjte, of Bombay.

I m l
MEMORY.
The brightest star in memory's wane
Shines but to light our tears.
Casting a mournful radiance Luck,
On past and bnppy jean.
The heart where grief ha'h set its seal
Clings to hfr dreamy ligbl,
Seeking a calm in buried joya,
'i'o make the present bright.
JIow vain the h >pe I In memory's cell.
Those only find repose
O'er whom no thongbi of treasntes gone
' Its rteigbt of sadness throws.
To lore that lives through hope's decay,
' I'o the lode bosom's yrfef, '
That mourns the lost, the changed, the dead,
{ier light bnhga no relief.
for thought looks darkly from her cave,
And tm-m'rj 's.fonn is seen,
Guarding like holy love ihVshime
Where beamy once bath been.
One low, sad voice for ever near,
Poison's each song of mirth, '
And weighs our bmdeii'd snirils down,
Willi tones that bieullie of earth.
We gild with hope otir earlier years,
' And when those hopes are past.
Our souls are bow'd with vain regiet,
For nil thai might not last.
Oh ! let hope paiui that holier sphere,
Where stars ol gloiious hue,
Whose light hatl^ long been wanting here.
Whole ages shall renew.
Where nil lost treasures that lo earth
Too dear a charm h tlh given,
Made free Irom slain of grief 01 sin,
Shall welcome us to heaven.
E. J. M.

t 6.7 )
10 THS EDITOR .OF THE OETLOd MAGAZINE.

Sis.In sending you the following narrative, allow me to say

that all the leading features are facts, and in no instance is thrre
any deviation from strict Truth, except in points where thr validity*
of the narrative is not concerned and I y which it cannot ba
fleeted. In detailing the conversations between the parties, I hnva
voided the style of expression in use among the lower orders of
Irit>'li, except in one or two instances Where its omission vvoiild have
keen unpardonable. I have done so, not in compliance villi hiy
own feelings, but to satisfy the taste of the day which, while it
Voraciously swallows the vulgar ccckheVism of England, scoffs at
and detests the simple expressions which come from the hentt of a
poor Irishma.n, who is forced to speak language as Uncongenial to
his nature as it is foreign to his lips. As 1 hare been boin, edu
cated and have resided for many years in the vicinity of the
scenes alluded to, my knowledge of the circumstances as well as of
the language and habits of the Irish poor, with whom I have been
long conversant enable me to vouch for the accuracy of the de*
tails related.

THETA.
Colombo, June, 1841.

" NORAH OP GLYNN'"

A Til F FROM THF. T1MCS OF CaMMM ROCK.

** The eye that tnoebrth at his flither and nVspis Hh to obey Wk mother,
the ravens of the 'alley shall pick it nut, and the voting eagles shall eat It.*
" Whoso rohbnlb father or mother and saitb, it is uo Iruu&ureasioi], the same
II the companion of >ba destjojer."

CHAP, I.
The period at which the events about to be related in the fol-
lowing narrative, had their origin, was burdened with trouble and .
alarm to the South of Ireland. The greatest distress had prevailed
throughout the whole kingdom, but it fell with peculiar misery upon
the peasantry of a country, at all times but ill provided with the

t tob i
menus of sustenance. The connlies of Limerick and tla't* ptti
cipaled largely in the passing trouhle, and also in :he liberality
with which r'nglanfl so m.My emptied her coffers for the assistance
of her Suffering sister. Nnnieroiis instances of reKef afforded I*
families at the extremity of famine, were recorded for the encon*
ragement of Philati trophy with belter success than the most ardent
minds had anticipated ; and every effort was made to sustain lift
sinking energies of the sufferers.
Riit times, such as we have alluded to are tne most propitious
for designs and movements of insubordination. Tliry to whom re
bellion could bring no loss of pioperty and whose characters could
scarcely surfer by accnmnliiled rrime, found in the very misriy
hiih snnounded" them, materials with which to feed their lre*i
eonahrc desires. The peasantry who bad been hmg artintomed M
look upon their situation as one not likely to suffer by political conhJxions, and confirmed in these views both by the agencV of
Captain Rock's emissaries, and by a freqrient interchange of
sentiments and feelings, exhibued decided symptoms of insnbordrnation very early in the winter of 1819So thai, before the Govern
ment had six-reeded :n obtaining the sanction of Parliament for calling
into force the insurrection act, crimes of the deepest dje had been
perpetrated. Minder followed mutder ; fire and abduction succeed
ed to burglary and robbery .with, a degree of rapidity which proved
(he desjtcrnte stale of feeling which pervaded Wth counties as well
as the well-laid schemes ol those by
whose instructions the
people were led. The Dillons fell before "their mitrdereis by a concert*
ed plan of consummate skill in which a large nwtt of -the county
of Limerick was eiir<n_'ed. Messrs. Raker, Gnwing and Torrens shar
ed ih<; same fate. Holly-Park, Faiia, Stonehall and several other
lesidences of the highest respectability were bately saved by the xigilance of their urnpriet >rs ; insomuch th-it in less than six n otithi
from the commencement of the ont-freak almost vvery bonse in the
county felt the foice of that Inry which well-limed and judicions
measures would have easily suppressed in its infancy.
The plans of Captain Rock were nsmlly laid with so much skill
and carried into ffect wilh 84> mnch energy thftt the Government
mold not shut iheir eyes to the fact that persons possessed ofiif
teHects and information- lx>ve the common herd directed and con
fronted ibese measures. Instructions were accordingly' forwarde'd to
the magistrates and police to be particularly watchful of persons of
all ranks against whom their suspicious might by possibility be jnstified. Allbo' the opinions of the police were not permitted to
tMtmpfre. Vei il was well kmVwn that Iheir suspicion's rested oh bh
of two indisHdriurs of some pretensions to lespcctarnTity.
Among those upon whom the eyes of the magistracy fell with
Stalked attention, was a young man, a son of the belter class of
farmers, whose conduct had lor soma years been the cause ol Both

 *19 }
gfrirf and disgrace to his father. Enjoyment and dissipation pro*
vid more jwwerlul in (heir attractions than learning; and the con*
geniality ol wild and desperate pursuits with his natural disposition
led lutu to despise the sage and anxious counsels ol his parent.
Unfortunately lor him he was too often shielded Irom the pun
ishment which he deserved from one parent In the foolish indul
gence of the other, and the rod winch he ought to have been made
to feel was arrested tliro' the instrumentality of his mother, wlio
at oilier times was wont to restore the purse which his father had
teviously wiilidiuwn. Carried forward by his own wilful passions,
e at an early age forfeited the confidence and latteily the affec
tion of his iaiher. It was generally suspected nay even known
that he hud involved himself with the desperadoes of Captain Rock's
party, but his advantageous circumstances as well as his shrewd ilio'
desperate disposition saved him in many an emergency. He was
tall, active and tho' slightly made yet well proportioned. He pos
sessed faculties that il properly directed should have elevated him
above his fellows. He was shiewd and calculating in the selection
of bis opportunities ; and bold and resolute in availing himself of
them. His progressive course in wickedness with such utter disre
gard to the feelings or the commands of bis father, alienated the
affections of the old man so much, that harassed by increasing ra
ncours of the suspicions which were entertained against his family, and
distressed by the visits of the police on two different occasions
searching for dangerous characters who were known to have been
in his son's company, he finally forbid his return to Loughmoie,
his family residence.

, Before we enter into the full tide of our story, perhaps the rea
der would not feel indisposed to follow us to the scene of its* oc
currence and trace its bearings. The Shannon, previously to its
forming the noble debouche by which its waters are carried to tho
Atlantic, allows them to extend some distance into the county of
Clare, at a point where the course of the channel is almost con
cealed from the view ol mariners and in a manner so inviting" as
to have caused the loss of many valuable cargoes This inlet, term
ed the bay of Clanderlaw, is bulb shallow and rocky, and affords
no safe anchorage for vessels. Nearly opposite to ibis bay is " the
little town of Tarbert, which is also dangerons for large vessels ;
and ten miles higher up the river is a small village composed of
scattered cabins erected along the river side in a such manner as
to form a sort of crescent round a dirty unwholesome swamp into
fchicli the river enters and overflows during full tide.
This village named Glynn was chiefly inhabited by day labourers,
whose miserable allowance often pence a day was barely sufficient to
support existence in their families. A few tenants of some acres
were scattered about the neighbourhood, but the majority were
fetched in the extreme. It was in the neighbouihood ol this village

fco

that F.dmnnd Meara chose to take up his residence after liis *jtpu!si8ri
(com his fabcr's house.
About a quartet of a mile above the village there is small
mount tin-pass through which flowed a stream that mine Iron) a
liei^hn.mriug ban. At the date of ibis story, the sides ol this pss
wrre wild and uncultivated, not affording a supply of more pastu
rage than was sufficient for a few goats. 'I lie upland lornnd
a common where afe<, pisjs, &c, strayed undisturbed. At the
upper extremity of tbu pass or 'Glen' as it was called,
lived an old man HaAied Sullivan, possessed of some little
propetty and wnh ii the cliuracter of a miser.
His onljr
ibiujiii.-r, the heroine of this siarrative, livr-d with him and en
dured with all the gentleness of lender, obedient love, and soiieiud
down by her kind and lorbearing manlier the parsimonious and
jealous habits ol her father.
' After" the country had been resulted through the exertions of go
vernment to it* former tranquillity, and that the removal oj the insur
rection act permitted u more Iree intercourse among the peasantry^
the spring evenings brought with them the return of the Sunday
evening's dance on the knuck or mound under the old eltmree
oh the common, or the llurly and Bowling matches ou the green.
It was rarely tint the villago maids nipped off to the knuck that
Edmund Menra was not there to meet them. He was the favorite
of the village, and always had his choice of his partner for the
dance. Bat " Mr. Neil," as his name went, could seldom dance
with the same sprfchiliness or enjoy the fiesbness ol the eveuiiiij
air, unless Norah Sullivan or " Nolly of tho Glen" was present,
'fhere were many evenings however iii which she would not be
permitted by her jealous father to leave her house. He dre.idcd
atl candidates for bis daughter's hand, but above all he dria led Ed
mund Meara, whose supeiior birth and free yet gentle manners
pave him a considerable aseeudancy over the girls ol the village.
He had also other reasons for apprehending his advances. Edround Meara bad rendered services to several of Capia n Rrnk's
agents, and he had by several cautious manoeuvres directed their
movements with so much skill that he was unanimously greeted
by the appellation of Captain, and held in high esieem among the
peasantry ofGlyn. The old man knew that Norah loved him, and
that it was -the general desire ol the village that they should be
united. He also knew that through Meara's agency, a nephew of his
own his brother's son was saved from transportation through the cor
ruption of one of the witnesses. Tantalized by such apprehensions
he frequently prohibited Norab's visit to the dance. About three
months after the removal of the insurrection act, a parly bad beeu
appointed to meet under the old elm to join in dunce and merry
making in compliment to the wedding of one ol Norab's nlatives.
She was invited to join them, and was adorning herself wiih her
little Sunday ornaments preparatory to going to the knuck, when
she was iuteiruptcd bj he: father.

t Ml )
t*TVher* are you going to girl! Is it to the kntukf* nye, nn^
Je'll be bringing home your cousin that fat niostheen, to be eating
fiy bread anil drinking my tea on me! Tis litter 'twould be for
von to sit down agen the hob and be saying your rosaiies this1
blessed nigh:! what do you wuni at the green f I'll be bound *iisr
|o meet Mr. Ned you want! I tell you what Norab., I'll have
none ol your gentlemen (or a son-iii-luw ! It you wuni to marry,
why, mairy one ol an age and keeping with yoursell! 15ul at nil
events out of this house ye'll not stir this niyhi!
Tis too loud
I'm of you, jewel !"
The old man accordingly rose up and fastened the door of his
cabin, then growling lorlh fears about thieves and speadlhrills he
tvatched until he saw his patient child lay by her lew omamtnts
and sitting down in silence prepare their lonesome supper, when
satisfied that all was sale, he look out his old stocking Irotn its
hiding place and proceeded to count \\\s money.
"Tis all for you, Norah ! all for you, that your onld father is
Stinting his belly of ihe bit, and his throat of the drink in the way
I am! Son a bit of me but would eat and drink it all but for'
you ! Och hone, tunl to think that 1 should do all this foi the
fore of one that would throw it away on a wandering rebel if the.
sod was once on niy head. 'Tis a. happy mail 1 \j onld be this night'
but lor you'. "Its too loud I'm ol you !"
" Indeed father," replied his daughter, " I would r.aihct. see you:
spending all the money in the slocking on your own comlons, if
1 was to walk bear-headed and bare-loot all my born days, than
laying it up where it's no use to man or mortal. Sure and whoi
told you that I would give it to Mr. N^d ? may be tin re's others,
that would be readier 1101 mjself to do that same, "lis not too,
fond of him I am since the matter with poor Mary Brauagau'
ul Cahircon ; and there's others that knpns that as w-cll as rnysell.
tie's ;i Gentleman no douhl, but it's not lor the likes ol me to
he looking up to a geiillrruan lor a husband. .No, lalluvr dear,
don't he saying that you're keeping the money lor t me, lor I'd
a ileal r:>ier be sbui of, it, tha,^ see you hindering yoursell lor
n.jr sake !"
' T's not too fond of bim you aie!!' said the old man, fixing
his grey eyes on her with a degree of inleumess that made the
girl blush in spile of herself, 'and docs the paint on your face
tell nothing! Hut I'll take care you shall be as good as your
woid, for ihe dickens a taste of the contents of this slocking shall
cross the palm ol his dirty hand, soft as it is. My curse and the
curse of the blessed Virgin he with you il ever you ma
<v tio
with bim ! I tell you, let him alone. lie's not ihe man to come.
liext or nigh the likes ol my child. So do not be loir having ilia-'
Curse ol au onld man on your head!"

" I believe, father dear," said the poor girl endeavouring to snp
\er tears, '* that it's only to rite me you want by ta'.kiii}.' in the
way you do! and indeed father it's not (air, when I've ueiiW
mother, nor sister, nor brothei to stand by mc against w hai you're,
saying !"
The effort to suppress her feelings at the nnkindrxss of her
father was unvai'.ing, and Noiuh burst into a fit of subdued, hut
bitter grief, Th old miser was not without vine feelings ofaflectioB for the only family tie which united him with this world,
and perceiving the effects of hi* unnecessary reproof, he softened
bis tone and endeavoured to soothe the wound* which he had
given.
" Stop Norah, Jewel; stnp.nvourneen mnchree; tbete now ; sure and I
did not intend it ! T was only to rise you I wanted. There ma colleen ;
bavedone asthore ; my so wit but I'll throw every shilling into the fire if
you'll only say the word ! I did'ut meau it, Norah darling ! there
there ; that's a good girl, and make the tea and don't be angry
with your poor father. And tell me; did you see Shane Bui*
at chapel to-day !" said he skilfully changing the sjabjecl.
" t did father," replied Norah diying her tears, " and he said that,
be would bring the hounach to you after to-morrow ; but that be
would be where you knew all day Monday !"
"Jack is a sin ut fellow, and as good a judge of that same
pig as any at the fair of Kilrush ; did lie say, Norah, that he would
bave any one with him lo-monow ?"
"He didn't say; bin I seen him very thick with Mr. Meara,
walking down the green alter chapel, and I didn't care to talk
more with him at the time.
He just bid me tell you what (
aay !"
" I'm fear'd that Jack has more to say to Mr. Ned than ia
good for either of them.
But how can 1 believe him./! Ti
feeding something besides himself {he'd he doing ibis ni^hi only
for him. But any how, I'm always better pleased when they'ra
asunder. The Virgin preserve us but I always, dread mischief
to my house when I see them together ; God beluxt us and
barm !"
As Norah knew by experience that silence was her best mode
of quieting what appeared lo her to be the unreasonable ap
prehensions of her father respecting Meara, she made no reply and
shortly alter she withdrew to her little loom which lay at the
furthest end of the cabin.
Sullivan's daughter was about twenty-two years of age. Although not
handsome, her expressive countenance, beaming with the tendorest feeltags of her nature, and lull of intelligence was more attractive than

f 38

any better featured th-ngh leu intellectual

bout (lie middle bright and well formed; while
her dress and the natural ease and simplicity of
off her figure lo the beat advantage. She 'was an
tion to all the young men in the village, and
the little amusements of Glynn wete'not relished by
when " the Beauty of the Glen" was absent.

rtnes. Site was

the neatness oil.
her manners set
object of nltraeher presence at
any half so well

From the moment that Edmund Meant first saw her he resolved
tipon obtaining possession of her person if not by marriage, in a
less honorable way. In his pui poses be was much facilitated by
the influence which he possessed over the minds of her friends, by '
Whom he was looked up to as nunc than a match for Nora; but
the jealousy of her father was a mighty obstacle in his nay.
Still he knew that Norali loved him, which encouraged him to
watch bis opportunities for communicating with her and endeavour
ing to induce her to leave her lather's house and go home with
him. But she was possessed of feelings too strongly attached to
her father and too virtuously regardful of her duty lo God, to
yield to his persuasions, or to trust to his assertions of a future '
marriage. A few eveuings bud elapsed after her hue conversation
with her father, when returning from the village whither she had
gone for the purpose of sending a letter to her uncle at Railikeule,
Edmund Meara stood before tier at the entrance of the glen. Ap
prehensive of being observed by her father, she was unwilling to
delay and endeavoured to hasten past him.
"Norah, dear Norah ; will yon not stop one minute;' said he to
her, as be stood in the narrow' pass. 'Will you not speak one word
to me '"
'"Not now, Mr. Ned; not now Sir; let roe pass, if yon please !
sure you would n't b the cause ot more blanie to me than you
ran help. Tis enough tor me to lie under what can't be stayed
of an odd lime, and many's the time I do bear a hard scoldiug
on account of you, Edmund! But' I'm in a hurry how, so let
run pass in Heaven's name !"*.
*' Norah, I thought that you loved, me as much as I love you !"
" Well, Ned ; and maybe I don't ! ! What makes yon speak in
that way ? you know that 'tis too much of my heart you ' have
already without leproaching me regarding what's not in my power.
If my father is a little hard now, may he 'lis not long that he'll
be so ; and you know, Ned, 'tis better we'll thrive with a father's
blessing than a father's curse ! Let me pass any how ; for I'm
late as it is; and I'll be blem't for staying out so long !"
" Step for one minute, Norah ! Tell me what will you do if
your father insists on your marrying Shane Buie * Will you marry
turn and me!"
- w I will never leave yon, Ned, as long aa you stick by me!

sr.d as to JacV Sullivan, | w|l die before I bare any thin* to

av to bun I"
" Well now, Norah darling; I am satisfied; and you may .go,
Olily give me one kiss to show you love!"
" I never gave any man a kiss, Mr. Ned, barring my own re*
lauons il.at liad a light to ft; and I told you more than once
that yon always Irigli.teu roe when I hear you talk of sncli (Lings.
Ji sometimes come lo my tuiad that it is not to marry me you
want at all."
" Stay Norabrstay one instant ; may all""Whisht you (oolish man, there's one looking at us; didn't I
tell yon to let nv go at once ; good ni^hl and dun'l be frighten*
Jug yoursell for Shane Bnie :'* so saying the active girl sprung past
Liut an J was soon lost tn the gloom of itie glen.
Edmund Meara bad turned, almost at the same instant with
Norah, and was quick eHougb to perceive a figure glide stealtlnly
among tlie trees and disappear up the sides of the pass. A mo^
nut of enraged disappointment held him fixed lo tUe spot, tha
next si v him in hot pursuit Kapidly but cautious!) be followed
the object of bis chuse aud came up with him just as they bulb
reach d the opening of the common. At the instant he did not
recognise the periju ol Shane liaie, and still inflamed .with rage he
challenged lain.
" Mu'Ina you sir, stand you scoundrel or tbe next step shall be
into \ our grave; who are you that you dare act the spy on my
motions i"
" Then Mr. Ned is it afraid of your best friends you're grown ?
Well, well, and you not to know Shane Buie tbut would die teu
deaths to save your honour trom hurt !''.
"What made you rim away. Jack?- \t yon Jjad stood yonr.
ground like a man 1 would have known yon. Bui 'twas not too
much ol a brave man you ever had about you !"
' In troth, Mr. Ned, there isn't a man in the palish barring
yourself that would say that same to me with imvivnilif V
White Sullivan was saying this, he fixed his eyes full upon the
fearless Meara who returned his look with a misgiving smile of
mixed contempt and ridicule, lint as Meara had reason really to
apprehend Sullivan's treachery, ii' he had recognised Norah, and that
L would in all likelihood betray their interview, he considered it
most prudent to try and mollify rather than irritate him. Ju
cunning and villainy tbe two were well matched, but Sullivan en
deavoured by a low-minded and malicious policy to Irustratc the

t m )
object of his more fearless protector, whose rivalry in the affection* .
01 bis cousin lie had so much cause to view with Tear and vexa*
tion. Pieviutisly to the outbreak thtit had just terminated, Sullivan
had been an unsuccessful suitor of the young beamy. He had
liowevei', gradually Succeeded in establishing (or himself a good fooU
isg with the father, and bad even hopes that he would ultimately
succeed in gaining his consent to their marriage. His dark and
vicious disposition however, had rendered him an object of fear and
detestation with her, and bis iudiffeveuce to her feelings white
treating with her father on tl.e subject of marriage, rendered him
Still more intolerable to her. Her unceasing coldness to him ai
well as her acknowledged partiality for his rival, induced him to s.eiee
c'very opportunity o( lepor'ting to the old man whatever attentions
on the part of Meara, and encouiagemetit on the part of Norub,
he could magnily into acts of impropriety ; of this Meara was
tvU aware, aiid being really apprehensive that he would visit upon
the innocent girl any insult ottered to himself, he thought it wiser
to change the subject and lay aside his resentment for a mote
Jilting opportunity.
"Well Jack! Say no more about it, you know that I have
always stood your friend when you wanted one, so you need'nl be.
in a hurry to quarrel with me for nothing!"
"Quarrel is it! Bad scran to me if ever the thought came
ucro.-s my head ! 'lis qnare talk there would be in the town beyafit
to hear talk that Shane Bute quarrelled with his best friend ! sureand wasn't it that I was saying, that there is'nt a man iu the
vrHage barring yourself that would speak to ine after that sort ; but
as your honour says let there be ho more about it. What are
you going to do about the matter ot the Branugaus, Captain ?"
" The Branagans ! What about them ?"
" Why they say that if your honour doesn't marry Httle Mary '
(you know little Mary sir) there will be the dickens and all to
pay betuxt you and them j"
" I marry Mary Branagen ! !
Is it come to this with you
Jack Sullivan to think that your captain would he forced by a
pack of cowardly gommOcks to many their Faggoidtb ol a sister!
Yes, indeed, it is well said of them // "
" Well your honor I meant no offence ; no offence in life. I
only made bould to tell you, in order that you mighlu't be taken
behind backs ; hut sure your honor knows best 1"
' I tell you what Sullivan !"" What Sir ?"
" Do you remember the night of the attack on the Curtis's at
Grange P"
" Do I remember it, is it ? sure your honor knows the bating

g m f
t got at it ! The dickens such a bating ever soaked into the bonei
of any misfortunate man equal to what I got that night '."
" Well ! it was your own fault ! why did you not fall back tba
moment the sod was put nader tbe thatch according tu orders ?
but at all events the man that gave you the beating was Charlie
Brana^an !*
" Thunder and turf, does your honor tell me so ; Begarinies,
and his <vas a heavy hand all out, well may be the lime will come,
when 111 translate the lesson he taught me on his owit back."
"I hope so Jack,so. for your own sake, as well as mine, keep
your eyes about you, How old is jour Uncle ?"
"He's oH enough to live longer than either yon or I wish, Sir,
Tis a crying sin to see the way he treats her, and she's so
gentle and so fond of him she'd raiber see hi in eat one bit lLan
get
ten herself.I wish Mr. Ned, that yon and she
were married; 1 know she's fond of yon, only she has not time
to tell you so, witb that old villain of a lather. I was in hopes
'rwas herself and yourself that were talking down in the Glen
beyaut a while ago."
"So you saw us then," said Mean, quite forgetting

himself.

" I saw yon witb somebody Sir ; bnt how could I tell 'twas her
self when there was no light to see by."
Tbe tone of Sullivan's voice had enough about it of ironical sym
pathy to prose to lVteara (known as were bia feelings and intenti*
ens towards Norah) that he was in his rival's power; so considering il
more prudent to suspend any further conversation, and making some
indefinite teply to the last observation, be struck across tbe fields,

and was suob oat of sight

:.

a*

327

COCOANUT PLANTING IN THE PENINSULA OF CALPENTYN.

Firs aps it is not generally known, that there is a very extensive tract of
forest Uml in the Peninsula of Calpentyn, called Munjaili/ Chaly, or Muodoo
Kaiioo, situated 6 or 7 miles S. W. of Ptitlam and about three quarters of a
mile from >he sen ;

aud on

which connect* the Inland

the east

side almost bordering on the Canal

navigation between Calpentyn ami Colombo.

cording to a recent measurement, it contains about

of this land, except a few barren
Comanut planting, as it

good

Ac

The whole

spots intersecting it, is well adapted for

has a light sandy soil, and voter can lie had by

digging to the depth of three, or four feet.

some

17,000 acres.

springs called

Towards the sea side there are

ToHiiwtii*, which can

very easily

he

rendered

available for irrigation by means of machinery, and tn the neighbourhood! of

one of these springs, Cinnamon is found growing wild, mixed with other jun-'
gle trees.
The following estimate of the probable cost of planting 500 acres of thi*
land was framed by me

some ti'no

of a friend of mine, and as I think

of engaging in

such

speculation,

ago

in compliance

it will prove iirefnl

with

the

request'

to persons deslrons

I hare much pleasure in sending It for

lnserti. in In the Ceylon Magazine.

Supposing that you intend to cn'tirate

500 acres of this land,

proportion of 80 trees to an acre planted at 30

feet distance

which In
from

each

other In all directions, will afford space for 40,000 trees, the cost will be as
follows: viz.

t. d.
0 0

For value of 500 acres at .".%-. per acre

135

Clearing the .Tnn le at 8s.

Do

200

Raising fence, and slnkine wells

]6li

90

15

22 10

Value of 40,000 plants at 4. bW. per 10O

Digging holes, and plantlni! the p'ant at fV. per 1C0
Value of 100 hill-h'olis. 1(0 n:arrnmtt'cs,

R0 ares aril 320

water-pots

Pay of 80 Labourers to water the plants for first 3 years at

1728

.Do.

of 4 Overseers for the same period at lfls. each per Do. .

I2. each per mensem

108

Do.

of a Snperintendant

108

Total.. /2.561 10

For the first three

years the

Do.

at 3 per mensem....

yoroiR trees mnst

be watered every second

day, except when it rains, and kept clear of the weeds.

B3

In the fourth year,

r 28 j
the)r begltt to push ont cpidices, and in the fifth bear a few nut* ; bat they,
however arrive at foil perfection only in the tenth, or twelfth year
Cocoanut trees hear at all seasons, and the produce of a good tree arerages at 50 nuts in the year.
When the trees become productive yonr plantation aill be worth arrordinf
to tin' lowest cumulation 6,000, and its annual return cannot fall short of
1,000.
While the trees are young, the space between them can be cultivated fcr
all kinds of fine grain as well as Tobacco, Cotton, Plantains, Yams ic. t
hare found by experience that when the Cocoanut trees are interspersed with
Plantains they grow quicken as the overspreading leates of the latter
abetter them from the scorching heat of tbe sua and keep the ground at
their roots always iuisL
The Cocoanuts intended for seed must be perfectly ripe. They are first
buried in tbe earth close together and watered once a day for 3 months ontil they shoot out, and then they are transplanted. The holes for the re.
ception of the young plants must be one cubit aide and the same or more
deep. The deeper they are planted the better, particularly in sandy situations.
After three years the trees require no more watering ; consequently the
expense of tbe establishment can then be reduced to 108 by discharging
70 of tbe Labourers and (he 4 Overseers and retaining only the Superintend
dam and 10 Labourers to beep the Garden.

s. c. c.
MOOXLfGHT.

Written on Skakenpear's

Cliff, Dovor.

It is a sweet, a lovely sinht,

To watch lite coining of the night;
T< snze and sec, if see we may,
How slowly daylight sinks away,
Anil how it thousand shades steal on.
Throwing a soften'd hue upon
Each evening cloud, that woos the eye,
From ont the ocean til the sky ;
Wafted by breezes from the west.
Like floating islands of the bless'd.
Softer and sutler grows e.ach hue.
Until tlu.e tints so, faint and few.
With such a fjonileness n tire,
Ynn cannot tell when they expire.
A dull mid misty shroud comes o'er
Tlic sea, that was all bright before.

529

And its dark shades of grey are seen

Blent Willi the Ocean's sparkling ureen.
The distant ships me hid irom sight,
Beneuth the gathering vi.il of night;
While the small vessels passing near,
Unto the gazing eye appear,
Like cobwebs on mi auiiiiiin's eve,
Which in the stir the spider* weave.
The boatswain's, pipe and pilot's call,
Upon UK" ear so leebly Inll,
Th;il though a-near they seem, to be,
A voice Iron) out the misty sea.
A pause, and then in beamy rise.
Bright gleams of light across the skies,
Which gently peeping I rum each cloud,
Disperses soon ihe sombre shroud
Thut hung 0V1 earth, anon 'tis light,
And all once more is fair and bright.
Vpon a lowering cliff reclining,
The gentle moon is o'er me shining:
Its lucid beams mine eye doih.ineet
In the blue waters at my feet,
Where each, small wave it lights upon,
Kissus its ray, then pusses on.
Vpon the pebbles of ihe bay,
So calm, so bright its waters lay;
Hush'd into silver) slumbers deep,
Smiling like childhood in its sleep.
Ho breeze is there to break its rest,
Or cuil one wave upon its hi cast,
That gleams so brightly. Near the share
The cliffs like giant-forms rise o'er,
And throw u gloom around the spot ;
Wrnle here and there, from out some cot.
Shines many, a Iniril and glimmering light,
Gilding the waters like the stars of night.
A-Jar 1. hear the splashing oar,
Urging some bark toward the shore,
For the spiead sail bungs to the mast;
The evening breeze has breutU'd its last.
Upon the sea-shore, lur away,
J see ihe lisli'.-r's children play:
At limes their merry laugh I hear,
Borne by the echo (o mine ear.
Anon all's still and silent, save
The rippling of the moon-lit ware.
Above the blue, the boundless tide,
Stands the strong castle in its pride.

630

All ivy -clad lo heaven 'lis towering, '

While its dark battlements are lowering
O'er (he rude waters far below,
A* if it rilled tliv waves dial flow.
And Canute-like it seems lu say,
" Ketire, nor touch me with ihy spray."
The moon so laintl) beams upon,

Thoseuhlieul walls, and sparkles ou

The dew that gems each ivy lent,
Like Hope that smiles lino' teats of grief.
I see lull well, where the wall is low,
A sentinel pacing to and fro;
For his polish'd bayonet brightly gleams

As it uutches the light of the moon's pale beams.

And I see the rising orb ol night,
Flinging a ray of its silent light,
O'er ibe crumbling stones ol the Roman Tower,*
The fulling wreck of a fallen power,
Which yesterday was, and to-day is not,
And lo-ruoriow perhaps may he forgot.
Twas proud in its strength, Inn lime hus laid it,
Low in the dust, with the hands thai made it;
While the same moon that shone in its hour ol might,
bunles mourulully over ii's ruius lo-uigui.
Ed. C. M.

arriutan CSctmfja.
TO IBK K1 nou or TBS CKYIOX MA0AZ1KK..
Sit,Tbe following account of a visil 10 Tbistak If'Acokh* orcnrs in a
letter to a literary gentleman of some eminence, nun resident in Ceylon.
who was pleased to express his opinion that it might suit your rVriodicalRespect for this opinion as well as gratitude for much kindness- revived at
the hands of its author, induces me readily lo adopt his suggestion uf for
warding it, leaving it for you to decide whether it is possessed of general
interest sufficient to render it worthy of insertiuu. lis local imcn -; is con
fined to the circumstance I have mentioned above, aud the fuel of its being
the production of a young luau, and a younger writer.
Your obedient Servant,
W. FKKUUSON.
The mention of Mount Hecla and its eruptions reminds me of a " doalimf
ttme" which I brought from a small Island called Tristan d'Acnnlia, lying
in Latitude 37= 6' South, and Longitude 12 e 7' Weal: 1. e. nearly 1,300
* Wlilthin the fortifications surrounding Dover Castle stand some very fine mint
of a Human Watch-Tower.

[ 31

Inlles to the West of the Cope of Good Hope,

Africa aud America,

and about midway l.etween

Th Governor of this lone Isle of toe South Atlantic

being connected with us by the tie of a common cnuntmnanship, I am in

clined in think that a few words descriptive of a visit I paid it on my way
to Ceylon in 18o9, may not prove uninteresting.
The Ship in which I came out being a very slow sailer, we
4 months away from

were nearly

Aiudcira without once seeing Term ^/trimi'twas "one

wide water all around us, all above us one blue sky," while, day after day,
and week after week,
" The sun came up upon tbe left,
Out of the sea came be ;
And he shone bright, and on the right
\YVut down into the sea,"
True, there is much of beauty, and of sublimity in the wide and trackless
seed. i,

whether sleeping in calm placidity,

or boiling ill its tempest-stirred

wrath ; sun-rise at sea is a glorious sight, while

sunset within the tropica

Is worth taking a long voyage lo behold but monotony and long confinement to
small space, so much countei balance (at least to a landsman,) the pleasure
tn be derived from

tbe coutemplutiuii

of such

sceues, that I

believe

tbe

feeling with which 1 hailed the first appearance of the cloud enveloped sum
mit of "Ureal Island," the largest of the group, is far from being an uncom
mon one.

In my

oase,

(this being my

first

voyage),

it was exceedingly

pleasurable, somewhat akin to thst with which tbe weary and wayworn travel
ler bails the appearance of an Oasis a green spot in the Desurt.
Having run short of water and expecting to get a supply of fresh provisions, the
I splaio determined to call at this plaic. On maring the Island we noticed a \\ bale
Boat, in which were dor 7 mi n, pulling t'.v. aids us.
side, and

our surprise was not small

gnKt-sUins, stepped

Ibey were soon along

when an individual, clad partly

with

on board and announced himself as Hit Giutruor\

Tbe

costume of the persons composing his suite vas iu the suine Kobinsnu Crusoe
style, and the group altogether was calculated to remind me of, aud enable
Die to realize, those woudrous and romantic scenes in De Foe's ti ntli like ticlion which witb the Aialian Myitis had so early
my attention as whose have they not?
name was James Glass,

//.

Mid so strongly

arrested

Excillenii/ Informed us il..u his

and that he was a Scotsman from Urec-nock.

To

my Highland ear it was apparent that his Kuglish partook too much of tbe
peculiar pronounciation which distinguishes those whose mother- tongue is the
language of Ussi.ui, that
"

Upon his lips there hun,?,

The accents of tbe Northern tongue,"

too strongly for one born and bred so fur South as even the Port of Green
ock.

1 have

since learned that 1

was right

in my

conjectures, aud UuU

I 03* 1
he H
took

a native

of hit

mm

Parish, Fermtnsh,

hit departure, iu cohsccmioiicc,

in

Ross- shire ; whence bw

believe, of some act which consri.

tutes hit motive fur concealing his actual birthplace.

The Senlieuian now

in charge of the Government Botanical Garden

at

Peradenis aud a Military Officer having expressed their intention te land, I

determined to accompany them.

The first object* that attracted oor attention

on st. |>].iu_- ashore, were the carcases and akeletuua of a number of !r^e
Walruses, from which the Islanders
quantities of cood oil.

had cut away the blubber, and procures

Asceuding a short distance from tbe beach, came

to a beautiful green plain, on which the village was built and thro' which a.
ainall rivulit meandered,

fertilising' the ground

n abundance of good safer.

and yielding the inhabitant*,

A Httle beyopd, it came dishing down the rocks,

bright aud silvery, while willows and various other shrubs overhuug its bank*
Clad to esrapn from my

four mouths' imprisonment and to feel myself free

to rove where 1 listed, I took a stroU inland, aud you can better imagine than
I can describe the delight I exptrienced ou coming suddenly upi. u a solitary
furze-bush covered with golden blossoms.

Its appearance

there was

uuix-

pecled, aud in a moment a thousand bright association* connected with the

home of iny fathers and my childhood were awakened in the inner chamber*.
of my heart!

The old country with its. heath chid hills its broomy brae* an4

gowauy glens rose up before me, and I thought of " auld lang syne 1"
" 1 lli iv to the pleasant lulus, tracers 'd so oft,
In life's morning march when my hosom was young ;
I heard the. wild mountain-goals bleating aloft,
Aud knew the sweet strain that the corn-reapers sung."
These feelings were strengthened by the
berry

heath

covered with

fruit, end what

clover on which the cattle were chietjy

yellow

flower.

bushes.

appearance of patches of Cran

I much admired, a species of

fed and which produced a beautiful

In the Governor's Garden I

noticed

Hose and Strawberry

'J he soil close to the sea where we lauded, was a rich black loam*

and we were informed that a few miles distant, there was another level spot
where they cultivated potatoes, apples and oilier fruits and vegetables.
el' the inhabitants, who owed

One

his birth to that laud, where there is freedom

for the White and slavery for tbe lilack, supplied lue with some general in
formation respecting
be called

the

the Island aril its resources.

Walruses,)

were easily dispatched

by

were, he

The Sea Elephants, (aa.

said, always gladly

harpoons and

welcomed as they

crow-bars; but when

a land Ele

phant descended to the plains, it required the combined energies of the Co

lony to

frighten them away or kill one.

This last piece of information is, I am inclined to think, ralher Jonathania*,

and that it would be as difficult

a matter to kill, frighten

Imiul-Llcfhuut iu Tristan d'Acunba, as to culcu

or find a genuine

the " be* bui j-iut," or per

t 583 ]
ferfa the rnpenions operation of breaking an egg In an empty sack.

Pot be

thin as it mv, I satisfied myself that wild goats abounded in the mountains,
Irot they seldom left
bunt them
located,

down.

their stitp erasing places, cud it is r.o fsv natter to

The liilliis here,

had increased

great damage to

an sfcingly

the young rreps.

as elsewhere whin rhee lb\ become

ard were

ejtresfhrly

anvnyirp, doing

The t"nl<n:sis vere eVlerreimd to goto

Work in earnest, and endeavour, if possible, to exterminate them.

There wore plenty of cow9, sheep, pis;', Reese, turkeys, fowls, fce., and in
the breeding season the Island is visited by a great number of birds, which
resnrt to it for the purpose of building their nests and batching their yenng.
They were all absent when we were there, with the exception

of a few Al-

batrntses, and Cape Pigeon*.

I recollect

reading an interesting article in Chnmbrr'a Fdinbvrok

some time ogo, describing a

visit to

Tristan

d'Acunha,

and

With a vast number of those droll feathered bipeds, the Penguins.

They were

represented as quite black and walking upright like human beings.

or so

unaccustomed

Journal

a rencontre

to the sight of man were they, that they

So tame,
would not

stir from their nests until forced off by the Sailors, when they tittered a rry
bearing the most ridiculous resemblance to the words "Go back! Go back!"
A large number of eggs were easily secured, and the incident is bo gra
phically related that I regret I have not the work to refer to.
Whilo
I

the

amused

few things
myself

water,

when

them

to be),

the surface.

we had bartered

by causing

was surprised

which

cast

On breaking

some
to

into

one

nf

for

were being

the

Islanders' dogs to take the

put on board

perceive the

stones

the

Ibis purpose,

sea

for

(as

supposed
feat

upon

or two and examining thrm, I f< und they

bore a strong lesemblance to the specimens of I.ava 1 had seen at Home,

This circumstance, I should suppose, proves, not only that Tristan d'.Aennhe
is of volcanic origin, but that a crater had been open and in
very distant date.

1 send ynu

the specimen I

brought

action at no

from this

far-ng

Isle of the Ocean, trusting that it may be deemed worthy of a place in youi
Geological Cabinet, and that, though trilling in itself, it niaj be viewed as a
toki.n of my wish to display gratitude for the kindness I have

r.t seared a|

jour hands.
Ten

families live on the Island, numbering sixty souls, including

Women and children Most of the women are from St. Helena.

men,

I understand

they have applied for a Minister^ ttt-U^MMi, and expressed their willingness
to appropriate half their yearly gains, (derived from

tr;iffii- chiefly with the

American Whalers, which call there for water and provisions), tn his support;
but no devoted

servant of Christ lias us

yet been

found

to go forth and

tend those few sheep in this fold and the wilderness of the Ocean.

t 6M

The present Governor ni sokfier, lad volunteered In en to IfaU solitary

spot 'img -!i Cm of Good

Hope.

This would go lo

show the!

Tiiiw

oVAcnnha. il not artoally British Possession, is at least milder British pie.

lection.

The following, extracted from the " Percy

Anecdotes," is carious,

as shewing that these " Islands of Refreshment," as they are both truly and
poetically termed, were not loa* ago constituted a separate and independent
Kingdom, snd Ibst there was a " King of Tristan

d'Acuuha."

"In the year 1811, an American sailor of ibe name of Jonathan lumber!,
tfcompanied

by

two other

Americana, an English

sailor of the name of

Thomas funic, and a bar, a native of Minorca, took possession of the three
islands named Tristan d'Acunha, silnaled midway in the South Atlantic, be
tween the < ape of Good Hope and the Brozil roast.

Lambert look possession

of the Islands in a Terr formal manner; bnt after remaining toaie months,
be and the two

Americans, nnder pretence of fishing and collecting wreck,

took the boat and left the island.

Before he quitted, he left

on the island

a document, by which he rnnsiitnted himself sole monarch of Ibis group of

islands.

Tie fnllowbig is an extract from the rnrioos manifesto:

'Knew all men by thee presents, thst I, Jonathan Lambert, late of Sales*,
in the state of Massachusetts, Unitod States of America, and citizen thereof,
have this founh day

of February,

1811, taken absolute possession of the

Island of Tristan d'Acunha, so called, viz. the Great Island, and the other
two, known by the names of Inaccessible and Nightingale Islands, solely for
myself and heirs for ever, with

the

right

of conveying the whole, or any

part thereof, to one or more persons, by deed of sale, free gift, or otherwise,
s I, or they (my heirs) may hereafter thin't fitting or proper.'
Kinir Jonathan than proceeds In give new names to the islands, which are
to be denominated the Islands of Refreshment ; fires the seat of governmen
and adds :
'And I do further declare, that the cause of the said act set forth in hi
instrument, originated in the determination of preparing for myself and family
a house, where I can enjoy fife, without the embarrassments

which have

hitherto constantly attended me; and procure for us an interest and property,
by means of which a competence may be ever secured, and remain, if pos
sible, far removed beyond the reach of chicanery and ordinary misfortunes.' "
W. F.

t 595 )
KETCHES 6P MEN AND THINOS.
BI THE EDITOR.
000

" 4 cAWj amnnir i/e takin

An faith hi 11 pnni it."

ftrtlam.
[Concluded from Page 473.]
The Men's Wakd.
From the female ward I proceeded to that appropriated to the
men, under the guidance of Dr. W. the resident surgeon of the
hospital. In this part of the h tilding, as in the other, there Were
portions set apart for the different Classes of patients. There was
also the like diversity of occupations pursued by the inmates, and
an equal degree ol order and regularity pervaded every part of
the establishment. In the first division where the well-bchavee! niid
partly insane were confined, I linger'd tor some time alone : the
Doctor having several duties to attend to gave me leisure to make
my observations on the patients. I was rrtuch pleased with the
buiet, busy appearance of all around. Every one appeared to be
following sorrte pursuit : reading, drawing, playing at dominoes or
draughts, music', &c, were (be amusements in the interior. After
conversing with one or two who came round me, t descended the
stairs and walked into the garden, where there was a like busy,
bustling scene.
In one part of the enclosed ground there was a number of small
gardens in very good order, with which the owners were busily
occupied. There were nently winding gravel walks, well trimmed
grass plots, and seals in different parts, nndei fine shady trees.
Altosreth-r there was an air of extreme coin'ort and insonicance
bout the whole place, and one miaht have fancied from the many
smiling hnsy faces around, that he had got into the far-famed
Happy Valley.
On one of the garden seats, in a remote corner, T observed a
man of rather elderly appearance, clad in a huge white coat that
reached down to the ground, and busilv occupied with a long roll of
paper covered with words of a gigantic size. He was a small, bony
man, evidently of a nervous temperament, with a restless, bright
eye and a lofty forehead
When he observed me, he rolled up
his p'ipert with great r nudity aud was by my side in a moment

with his hand on my arm.

S3

*' Rxetise me this liberty," he began, in a low htmied whisper,

" but as T perceive you're a new comer and a man of resp--clabi*
lily, I'll lake you under my wing and put you in the way of doings
good tliinp or two for yourself."
I thanked him for his kind intentions.
** No thanks, no lhAnks," interrupted the little man. " 1 do it
ell lor the public good, Pro Bono Publico, as- we tisea to say at
school ; now il you'll only follow my advice you'll realize a most
splendid fortune in a very short time. Just sit down here."
He led me to a seat and commenced pulling out a variety of
bundles and rolls ol paper ftorn different parts of his person. At
least twenty Ironi his huge coat-pockets, some from his trousers
pockets, and several from under his waistcoul and out of his hat.
" Now," said he, " before we proceed lurthef suppose you
me your address ?"

gire

To humour bim I gave it

" Ah : and perhaps you'd like to know who I am. Well then,"
continued he in a sort of confidential whisper, " I am descended in
a direct Hue Iroin Croesus, the late Head Nabob of Lvdia: my
name is Mammon, though my enemies say I don't spell il richtly
and iliat u should be Gammon.*'
He unfolded one of the many rolls of paper, by bis side and
continued : " This is a plan for a company of a most novel, lucra
tive and momentous nature. : it is a scheme which when carried
into full effect, by its influence upon our commercial and naval
powei, and its mighty bearings on our foreign relations, which
means our consin-gerinans, will astonish the natives. ]t is the out
line, Sir, of an Association to he called " The National and
Uiiiversal-United-I)enii-Suh-marine-YV hale-Tug Company." Capital
Two Millions, with a Board of Directors in every port in the knows
world, and a standing, or rather a flouting stock of Thirty Thou
sand Whales which are to be kept in the northern and southern
Pacific and Atlantic Oceans and under the Line. Tbe object ii
this, to lame V\ hales so as to render them of service in towing large
vessels in calms or bad weather. The company would of course
charge very high for their assistance, and I expect it will prove
one of the finest specs that ever crossed the let tile imagination of
mail. Allow me, Sir, to put your name down for twenty sbaies,
only &0 each ?"
I gratified my speculative friend in the hope of getting away, hat
not so, he immediately pulled out a similar toll to the last which
proved to be the plan of an " Incorporated-Dungerons-Accident
and Annihilaiory Association." He whs induced lo form this, be
aid, in consequence ol the very bungling manner in which railway
and steam-boat companies sent people out of the world. He in
tended to obtain a roju] charter fur it, but loured thai even that

37

protection would not be sufficient to prevent the railways from in*

fringing on bis patent.
" My intention is," continued he, in explanation, " to constract
railroad, a very short one will do, lor the purpose of enabling
persons, so disposed, to meet every description of accident, from a
sprained ancle to a regular smash up. I have not yet determined
whether the rail shajl he carried along the edge of" Shakespear'a
Cliff or across the deepest part of Chat Moss, but I fancy it must
be the latter. It will he constructed on the most economical and
dangerous principle and not fenced in, so as to allow cuttle to stray
over, it and occasionally upset a train. The means, of attaining the
ends of the company' will be agreeably diversified: there will be steep
banks for the carriages to fall down, and here and there a slout
building through the walls of which the trains may be impelled: at
midnight a train will be started at each end ol the line, so as to
meet about hall-way,"
The next paper shewn toe by this scheming madman^ contained
bis ideas on the possibility of warming the streets of London during
winter, by means of hot-air tubes under the footways. Another
parchment he was going to forward to the Speaker ot the House
of Commons recommending the use of automaton members of par
liament.
" Steam," said be, " is already in use for warming the House
and of course the application of it to wotk the members will be
easy enough. The saving of tune and money will be tremendous,
and then instead of having Radicals, Whigs and Tories, measures
will be tested by High-pressur.c, Low-pressure, and Pateui-salety
engines."
The last document he assured me contained tlie grandest scheme
that ever entered human brain. Plato's idea of distilling the Klix'u
of Life Irons moonbeams and butterflies1 wings was a mere nothing
to it! It was, in short, a plan lor paying off the National Debt
by means ol street mud, and be suid (hut the Lords of the Privy
Council and Johanna Soulhcole had all read and approved ol it.
There could be no doubt, he said, that the mud ot the metropo
litan streets contained a great quantity of iron, from the constant
friction and wearing out ol carriage-wheels and hoises shoes: the
metal he intended to separate by means of a very powerful electrogalvunic battery worked hy a steam engine, and the profits arising
from the sale of it was to pay off the National Debt. Fie had
calculated the number of carriages and horses, and the quantity of
iron daily wasted, and be found that in 355 years bis object would
be accomplished.
I left the schemer at the summons of my friend, the Doctor, and enter
ing the building passed to a farther end of the ward, where we again
made a pause. While there 1 encouulered a patient of an equally singular
tbougii different description. He was evidently in the prime of life,

t 38 ]
yet his hair was blanched as though with age. There was M
wildness in his looks, which were ruthcr those of melancholy and thought,
gave when speaking, and then his features assumed an unsettled, ani
mated expression.
I learnt that he had been brought np to the law in which be
displayed much ability, hnt having become mixed up with county
elections be was seized with a strong political mania, and formed the
wildest and most ambitious schemes of advancement in iuai danger001 career. Disappointed in bis expectations of support from hh
patron, be turned political lecturer and astonished the public with
Bis extravagant theories. It was pot, however, until he declaied
himself a candidate for one of the boroughs, that his friends perceived
the growing aberration of bis intellect. Various means wer* resorted
to lor the purpose ol diverting his euergies to other objects, but
in vain : the malady entreased with opposition and he became an
inmate of this Asylum.
Hi* first speech to me was to enquire about the late elections
and the members returned, of bicb I knew link- but made the
most of what I did. He thanked me very politely, and dieted in
return to use bis interest with ministers in my behalf, lor iLeir
patronage was entirely in his hands.
" It's not generally known," said the politician, " but tbe
Lord Chancellor and the First Lord of the '1 it-usury visit me incog
whenever it's high water at Putney Bridge with an easterly wind,
to consult me ou matters ol Law aud Revenue. The L bancellaf
of (he Exchequer makes a point ol submitting bis Budget in rue
previous to laying it beloie the House; and as to lite Colonies,
all the late victories in India are owing to my advice having been
taken. By the bye, have you read ;Her Majesty's speech? That
was all mine, aud 1 think did me some credit !"
I enquired bow he managed to spend bis time.
" How !" exclaimed be, " why in correspondence to be sure. I
kill a secretary a week. I've steam mills expressly for sup*
plying me villi paper, and am about renting Wimbledon Commini to feed flocks ol' geese upon, that 1 may never tun short

of quills."
" With whom," I asked, " do you correspond on such an enlaiged scale/*"
"My correspondence," continued he, "is like Morrison's Pills, of
a most universal nature, lioui public despatches red-taped and
sealed, to little pink, scented billet-doux. From the In. mini of
Muscat to tbe young Countess of L
. Besides 1 am Minister
Plenipotentiary from the king of the Ft-ejoo Isles and the Bashaw
of. Terra Incognita ; Political Agent to tbe Cape of Good Hope,
and the surrounding Puchalics, and Commercial Agent to the Grand
Sultan of Krim Tartary who lately 'sent me an order lor ten
thousand wax dolls with moveable eyes, lor his live thousand

T 539 }
JaTtgntets, and for ibe like number of cast iron fetters with copper
rivets (or bis five thousand sons. Besides nil these honors, t tie
Deleware Indians and the Pearl-fishers of Torres straits have sent
tne the Diplomas of their respective Colleges."
Having enumerated all these posts and honors, my companion
trutted np and down with much evident satisfaction, snapping
liis fingers and waving his hand to different imaginary audiences.
Then halting before one of ihe long grated windows, he folded
bis arms, and motioned me towards him. Pointing loanothei wing
of the building be continued : " 'I hat little place is my museum
and contains some of the rarest relies of ancient or modern limes.
Let me see, fiist theie's Aladdin's Lamp sent me by ibe Mayor,
and town council of Damascus. A phial Iroro the !<< inuMiis of
Mecca, containing some of :)ie darkness which spread over tbat
city on the death of Mahomet. A tooth-pick made of the tang
of the. asp that killed Cleopatra, presented me by the Poshn.iv of
Egypt. There's also the identical tub which Diogenes used to
roll about and an egg laid by Minerva's owl, both iron) my friend
Lord Elgin. A small ivory box with invisible hings, filled with
some o\ the dust that Sir Francis Burdett kicked up just be I ore
be was sent to the Tower; one of Ven>is's tooth brushes and, but
slop" and as something seemed to flash across his memory he pull
ed fiom his fob a gilt leaden watch. " 1 forgot, I must away and
attend a meeting of the four Allied Powers in Cold Bath Fields
Prison to elect a new President of the Board of Trade, and if I'm
not there I know there will be bloodshed, and perhaps high words."
Saying which the poor victim of politics snatched up his papers,
strode rapidly into bis room and slammed the door to with great
vjolence.
A little further on I perceived, in one of the many apartments
the doors of which stood open, an eldetly man of small make,
sallow complexion and with long dark hair. His lace was towards
me, and be was squatting tailor-like, on the ground, with a variety
of different sized ihiinbles before him which he. was moving about
with gieal rupiduy muttering to hiniM.ll all the lime, different cabilistic words and sentences. I paused before him, intending to
catch his eye and il possible learn something of his occupation ,
but be heeded me not lor some time, and went on with his sin
gular amusement. At length be made a pause and gave me a
nod in a veiy familiar manner as though vre had been old fiieuds,
motioning at ibe same lime for me to take u seat by his side.
I, however, preferred a more dignified posture aim distance Iroin
the madman and assured him that I was very cuuiluituble where
I stood.
*' Ob ! very well, please yourself, please yourself," replied the little
man, and resumed his singular amusement, making the thimbles
perform the most rapid and intricate movements, his visage all ibe
time assuming strange distortions.

64

"Well" said I, when he made another pause and stared oaf)

foil in the luce, " and hal may your object be in twitting thesa
brass thimbles about in tbat extraordinary manner ?"
"Brass ihirables !" ejaculated the madman, "ah I ah! ah' brags
thimbles indeed! ah ! ah ! ah! Why yon mast be mad? Yon
must be outrageously, supremely mad to mistake the Army and NaTs'
of Great Britain, as well as the Civil List, for brass thimbles!"
Not heiry able to solve his riddle I begged him to enlighten,
me. He immediately collected bis thimbles together, placed three
before turn, and held up a small pebble between his thumb and
forefinger.
" You must first understand," continued he, " that I am
in training (or the Chancellorship of the Exchequer. Well, this,
little pebble, and you see 'lis very small, is " Public Retrenchment,"
most necessary toy. These which you were pleased just now
to call tli !..l>l-s, are the Army and Navy Estimates, and the Civil
List.
Now the great aim ol my future efforts in the political
world, will be to puzzle my auditors to know under which lbs
|>ebble is placed, and at the same lime make them believe, if pos
sible, that it is under all three. It is a noble science and
requites n fine toutb, a keen eye and a ready tongue. But the
idea of brass thimbles! Ah! ah. ! ah! If the present Chancellor
could but hear you! No, no there's nothing like brass about bim."
As soon as his merriment ceased he was again absorbed in the
study o( tbe Chancellorship, and certainly succeeded in deceiving
me as to where tbe pebble lay. Not being likely to glean any
thing further from the embryo financier, I walked away and pro
ceeded to another division ol the ward where I found toy medical
friend.
At a remote end of the building we entered a dark suite of
rooms which, Irom the lucl ol the patients therein being victims of
intempeiauce, was termed the Drunkard's Ward. It was indeed,
a melancholy abode and lur outstripped the other wards in dismal
sights and sounds. There was evtry stag? of insanity depicted on
the (onus of the wretched men within, and though sad was the state
ol mental darkness in which they lay, sadder lur was tbe cause.
Some appeared to he in a complete stale of torpor, and lay coil
ed up like huge hedge-bogs, insensible to every thing passing around.
Others there weie equally quiet, but who sal crouched in coiners
all the day long, with clasped bands and moving lips as though
deep in prayer, yet stiried not, neither did they speak ; their wan
haggard lace* told a tale not to be misunderstood. One or two
were moving rapidly about with dreadlul smiles on their faces, and
clenched hands, but molesting no one. Some were chained close
to the wall, loaded with letters and gyves ol immense weight ; they
struggled violently to tree themselves ; they wrenched tbe huge rusty
staples in the stone walls, until their j ale laces were blackened in

I 64\ )
the strife, venting the roost dreadful corses *hd imprecations ; and
When they were tired, they tore their hair and shrieked and yelled
in a fearful, ghastly manner. Others were singing buchanalian
songs, and using violent language to their companions. 'I 'hey were
not less fearful to hehold than to hear. Thete were coaise bloated
faces covered wilh tenible ulcers \ blear eyes, heavy and bloodshot ;
pale emaciated forms, with lank haggard features and shrivelled skin
laying in folds like o'.d tun sty parch men I ; veins too, that seemed
to flow with yellow putrid water rather than blood. And all look
ed like impersonations of some foul and unearthly things.
Their tales were nearly all the same wilh only the time, place
and name differing; a series of fearlul histories of foi tunes and
health ruined, wives broken-hearted and children deserted. Dr. VV.
was a man of observation and had made himself acquainted with
tb_e histoiies of most of his patients ; he assured me that in nearly
ell the cases of drunken madness, the party had beun his career
by neglecting the observance of the sabbath ; without doubt every
felon would tell the same tale: sabbath breaking, the gin shop,
the jail, and the gallows.The Doctor remarked that in his conver
sations wilh these during their sane moments, their lemorse and
sorrow was uoi so much at their situation, as at the cause of it.
That tbey were there through drink seemed 10 weigh like a men
tal night-mare upon their faculties and sink them into the lowest
depths of remorse and anguish. Doubtless the same thought op.
pi esses the mind of the common sot. The victim of drink may
be covered with rags, till'd with diseases, hungry and houseless,
but does he not feel a deeper and more lasting pang than that of
buuger, or cold, or pain, in the thought that he has degraded him
self to a level with, nay lower than tho brute beasts of the field,
when he might have been only " a little lower than the angels ;"
that be has voluntarily effaced from his mind the noble impress
of reason which his God had himself set there, and admitted in
its stead a demon that shall spur him on to the commission of
every foul and wicked thing until his doom be sealed.
Ye who have relatives or friends who are in danger of falling
victims to this destructive passion, and who' would wish to place
their situation before them in its fullest, darkest horrors, lake them
to the Drunkard's Ward in Bedlam, and if after that visit they
do not reform and lead a new life, their case must be hopeless
indeed. To view the scenes ol that fearlul dwelling-place untouched,
and unsubdued, and nnhumbled at the weakness of our common
nature, would demand a heart more hardened by vice, than 1 trust
it to be olien met with.

342

QUANTITIES AND PRICES OF CINNAMON SOLD ttt

. THE YEARS 1691-1805.
( Compiled from the Records of the Is/and of Ceylen in Ike

Ea.)

Cha at her of Archive* tit Amsterdam, by G EOKGB IjEB,

i Qcaktitt
Year.

Sold.

|
Ateraqe
PklCI. | Teas.

QCAST1TT AVERAGE
J-old.
PBICE. | Year.

iUASTlTT AtEKAGI
Sold.
PBICI,

Stiver* or
Slivert or
SHeen or
lbs.
Ibt.
Pence.
Pence.
Pence.
1780 250,000
375,000
1735 350,000 48J
150
56
1 200,000
375,000
6 450,000 51},
136
49J
2 '200,000
208
375,000
-7 600,000 494
47*
3 300,000
375,000
48$
*8 600,000 47{}
200
4 250,000
350,000
554
9 600,000 424
213
5 450,000
190,000
1740 400,000 44]}
384
193
6 400,000
-- I 400,000 42+
160
5590 bro. 111
388,000
59*
2 350,000 4.51
7 300,000
375,000
3 430,000 49+
180
-8 80,000
373,000
54
4 500,000 5og
150
375,000
600,000
514
9
300,800
150
^L 5
300,000
44 Z
2500 bro.
6 6*10,000 51i
90
1790 420,000
225,000
44*
*7 500,000 54J,
166
200,000
1 350,000
46
8 450,000 j 1 1
140
300,000
56*
9 550,000 |5 If
1400 bro.
90
1750 500,000 1334
2 250,000
375,0 JO
54
175
375,000
56*
3 400,000
_^-l 650,000 57 f
123
375,000
4 250,000
2 330,000 784
128
55J
350,000
5lj
3 500,0oo;i2l-13-16
4000 bro.
90
350,000
5 140,000
_4 500,000 95
134
26iW bro.
375,000
5 330,000:iHi
70
6 110,5-20
327,740
4li
6 400,000 118
160
80.IO bro.
47,260
33
80
7 j 250,090 125
^8 1 300,000 .1234
375,1)00
7 !59,3og
oi
16a
375,000
I3,000bro
500,000 1 130 Ml
80
*> 9
|760 , 500.000 101
8 iii.OOObro
375,000
3(10,000
So
7,<WO bro.
1 450.000JIOO
425,000
2 ' 350,000 118-1-16
9
53j
3 I 400,000 |l 15
1800 9,300
450,000
31*
123
500,1100 4915
4 1 460.000 I2i
I5000bro.
33
3m>,0OU
5 320,000 133
1
6 400,000; 152
425,000
2 43,000
423,000
51*
7 400,00!I44
i
525,000
524
8 i 400,000 1384
4'
9 350,000 1374
550,;)00
5 25,500
1770 350,000 144
600,000
38,000

51
1 ! 400,m'ii 150
500,000 i 47*
2 450,000 162
380,000 , 50
3 1 350,000 128
500,000
494
1
450,000
S'
1
4 j 460,000 124
!
5
1
4wO,OOU
161
5oO,000
40l
000,001
0| | 6 400.IX 0 132
7 , 40<i,lA,0 HI
500 000
504;
1
8 35o,n00 140
500,000
4M)
400,^00 ; 4i
,9 , 3uO,000 140
I
lb,.

1601
2
3
4
.5
6
7
8
9
J70U
1
2
3
1

5
6
7
8
9
10
II

H
13 |
14 ]
13
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
20
27
28
2J
30
31
32
3b
34

5if.

eai

I 543 ]
fct MARKS ON THfe CULTIVATION OP THE SUGAR CAW5.
in the isLakd <>F ceylo*, by josiab Lambert, isq. f. e. . Concluded.
It has keen urged that the natives of this island are deficient in
physical streng'A, and incapable ot using the Cane-hoe to which
1 have alluded; to these opinions I cannot confnim, having seen
a proof of their futility in the fart of the Cingaltse being able to
swing an axe with a dexterity and effect quite equal to any that
can be exhibited by our best English woodsmen, and he who
can wield the latter instrument is quite capable cl giving effect to
the former; the hftbil of using an inferior tool will nl first mi*
limie against u chiiuge to one of another description but a steady
perseverance towards accomplishing the object in view, and an oc
casional premium by way of stimulus to the best woikmen, and
selecting ilieni to be the loaders of the gang, in which the men
should follow each othet in pairs each with, their separate trenches
a! .'i dUioncc of four to six feet between each pair, the leaders
pushing on will induce close order among the remainder, and very
soon exhibit the lazy or inefficient man who should then be turned
over to some other woik for which he may be better suited.Un
der this system I am well convinced field gangs may be formed
equally effective as in other countries. It is also said that the food
of thcr natives does not afford ntttiiment sufficient to enable them
to undergo the exertion the human Imme is capable of sustaining
under a different aliment without entering into this discussion it
may be sufficient to stale, that the people I have seen work upon
sugar estates, never taste animal fond their meals are composed
cSf rice, Indian corn, bread, vegetables and oil, occasionally fish with
the invariable seasoning of capsicum this does not vary materially
or scarcely at all from the customary food of the inhabitants of this
Island. liice is the best gr.iin.at least if we are to judge from the
evidence given before the Lords' Committee on the Kant India
Company's petition which states that n grcatet quantity and a belter
quality of spirit is obtained from it than from any other substance
whatever used for distil'ation and a fortiori, it must contain more
nutriment and I have seen it proved in the case of a pack of fox
hounds which during three seasons consuming but half the weight
of rice thov would have otherwise dune ol oatmeal were kept in
better condition than thev had ever previously shewn. Into these
remarks I have only been led by the prevailing opinion of the
feebleness of our people; do not exhaust them by pushing too hard
end I have little doubt an honest day's work may at all limes be
procured.
. In addition to my former observations upon cattle-food, T would
strongly recommend twenty or thirty acres ol Lucerne to be laid,
down in a part of the estate which may be capable of being inigated it is very productive and has yielded roe eleven cuttings in
the year. I have learned from an old resident that it does flourish
13
*

B44

in this climate, a fact of which I was not previously awareK

should be sown in dulls eighteen inches to two tcet a-pan the
nutritive qualities are very L,vciii, and a change ol loud is always
adviseuble lor stuck.
' The next point for the sugar planter to consider is the descrip
tion of power he can apply to his Mill. Water is the- best and
tfae cheapest, an overshot v heel ol twenty-fire feet diameter and
fbur leet wide withiu the shrouding is quite equal to drive a lull
sfeed mill, viz., rollers lour leet in length and loo leet diameter;
ftiis mill will grind sufficient canes to p induce live tints ol sugar
lit twenty-four hours, and the cost of such an upparuius in KnglBnd including water wheel shaft, arm cases, connecting gearing*
pedestals, &c. will be about C00. (the wooden arms, shronding
and buckets may be made in the I'olutiy at a trifling cost.) A 10
horse Steam Engine 4.50 to 5o0 or less if it be high piessure,
mid in the case of using this power the expeuce of the mill will
only be 360 thus a w alt l mill on board in England say 600
And a Steam Mill of same power...
i$6Q
freight and charges upon the latter being much heavier in propor
tion. A double sell of claritiers boilers and a Kueller's ttuclie
with blowing apparatus 500 Skimmeis, ludUs, wire guaze, saccbaronieieis and ihermometergIOO 5 tons ol sheet lead 100 say
ill all 1500 and expenses included, placed upon the Estate wuhui
at reasonable distance from the coast 2,000 added to which u>i
of Still under same circumstances 500, making a total ol 2.500
Buildings and completion of the works 2,000, so that machinery
and buildings equal to taking the crop li'um 30U acres of cane cost
4,500.The planter upon this scale must uot be deceived as lu
tfce outlay, should be attempt by any specious endeavour to eco
nomise to patch up his apparatus oi go to what is termed a cheap
shop at home, he will find something go wrong, and it is a liability
try far too serious, to find out a mistake, or to have a breakage m
the middle of crop-time which may stop the work and cause the
less of one-hall of bis canes Strength in the machinery must be
secured at any original cost, the grinding ot canes being peilstps
the most trying opeiation to whkh it can be subjected, this arises
from the extreme inequality of the opposing lorces pttsented to the
power applied to overcome them ; 1 have seen three inch bolts drawn
to sbreds and a seven inch wrought iron shall twisted in two by
the resistance opposed Irom a mill choked by over or cross-feeding,.
this is a matter of daily and hourly occurrence and it is con*
scqucntly necessary to have everything strong enough to resist the
Very possible contingency of derangement from such causes, various
attempts have been made to keep down the top roll by means of
weighted levers instead of bolts they have not however been attended
wiih success, and the most effective plan seems that of boiling
rntough strong beams of timber resting upon two fulcrum* npdnf
the mill-bed these will spring cruder any extraordinary pressure

r 545 J
Mid permit the passage of the obstacle which in an unyielding1 or.
fixed system dI uie< hunisti) would either cause Iracltire or stoppage,
and in ihi' latter case create infinite delay, us the mils gel so jammed;
lipon the screws thai uu power will loosen (litin ami the cane tvusb.
iniiM he cut (Mr! from between the rollers l.v mortice chisels in
order Ki set, lliein free A very important advantage accrues (rem
making use ol spring beams or elastic -lies to the top roll, namely'
that which permits ii to he screwed down light* thus keeping *
constant and close pressure on the cone, thereby causing every
drop ol' juice to, be expiexsed, which cannot be the case where the
rtlls set free as they must be when in a stifj' inelastic frame
their is a part of the apparatus to all appearance trifling, but of
gieat importance as to its strength and ptoper position viz. the trash
returner, or plate upon which the canes impinge on passing from
the upper and first lower loll : a gteat lorce is exerted uport it
and great strength must he given to it through its whole length
lis it guides the introduction of the cane to its second pressure
the position should be with a sharp edge heaiiug upon the leeding under toll, aud a spiice ol hull an inch live upon the second
lower rollj to allow the juice to fall upon the mill-bed. The speed
\vhich 1 have found to be most effectual lor the rollers is 24 feet per
minute of their circumference, any thing beyond that is too rapid for the
due performance ol the work, and anything under it is a loss of time; in
accordance with this speed the couia-ciiug gearing should he so construct'*
eci as to permit a velocity of the wuter-nbecl to amount to t> feel per
second of its periphery; this becomes necessary on account oftbeiu*
equality of tlie resistance to which I have before alluded in cane
grinding. High authorities have slated the velocity of a water
wheel to produce a maximum of effect at the rate ol three feet
per second, but since they have mitten, experience has demon*
muted a much greater speed to he necessary in many cases, and
among them must certainly be ranked that under description.
In the arrangement of the boiling house a clarifier of 400 gal*
Ions and three evupniaiing boilers ul corresponding dimensions may
he bung u> each fin-, with damper to shut ofi' Irom the clunfier
so thut the temperature in this vessel may not be allowed to ex
ceed 200 = ol rah. u is here the application is to be made of
lime or temper, us it is leclniic.illy culled, and 1 would tun lion
the planter very seriously upon the mischief caused by the excess
Rive use of this ingredient, the evil consequences of which are well
described in the excellent work by Porter, the value of it consists
in leudeiing the uuciy stulizabie portion of the cane juice more
fluid and promoting a belter and more rapid drainage, but it
decomposes the sugar and carries off in the shape of molasses a
great quantity of the product, and that which remains is more or
Jess delutioraied by the constant chemical action taking place be*
fween sugar and lime long subsequent to the supposed perlect cur*
ing of the foimerOveriempered sugar becomes dummy end grey
in color, the i cfiuer ul home, although iguuruai.oi lb* cause, lotus

r m y
aside from the sample thus exhibited, and the grr.cvr hne> it .it
low price which enables him in mix il up ilh Bengal Sugars,
and s<> get rid ut an orticle hich 1ms hteii diroy d by the rxoessive employment of lime. In refining sugar niade Irom lite
same cane patch, one halt wiih lime and the other- hall without
any at all, 1 have found the result in produce of single re third
loaves to he such that the Sugar made without lime was wonh seven
shillings pel cut more ihuu the other perhaps the expeiiuu-nl had
not previously been made upon cime sugar, and the fact has not
been brought under consideration, but the riicumslatice of having
a refinel}' attached to the sugar mill enabled mc to ascertain itLime is not necessary to the making of sugar and green juice and
that produced from rank canes is much injured by it. I know
several estates whete il never has been heard of, yet they pro*
duce the hurst quality, nor is the quantity deficient, and upon ihun
the old system ol sprinkling cold water upon the Irelh in ibe
pans is still loliont-d This simple operation has the effect of bring
ing together the fee ulen ties which have escaped the process ofclarilying.
We are now to suppose the cane liquor brought by
passing through the several hollers to the last, into a symp tolerably
bright and ol a specilic gravity ol nearly 1157 or 20 degrees
of Beauuie's Saccharoinelci in this stale it should be transferred to
cisterns lined with lead, having an outlet six inches above and another
at the bottom twelve or lucnty-loiir hours repose should be given
in order to allow the subsidence of mailers which during a high
temperature and a stale of ebullition were either held in solution
or suspended mechanically, and il mil he found thai notwithstand
ing' the most cnreiul work ni the boilers, a great quantity ol fonl
syrup occupies the lower portion of the cisterns this roust be boiled
separately in order to keep the remainder of the sugar good the
system is by no means novel, Dr.trone strongly recommends it,
and it has been practised in Spain tor centuries, but I have never
learned that a llritish Colony has adopted it, although the advan
tages are so obvious increased expense in fuel may be against the
plan in some, hut 1 should think few instances would occur in
which full compensation might not be obtained by the augmented
volue ef the sugar.
Concentration by vacuum is undoubtedly the best method of
concluding the process ol sugar making, but the expense of the
apparatus and its complication can never permit it to be generally
adopted; the substitution of Kmller's leache will however answer
very nearly the same purpose the temperature uecessaiy never
exceeds 180 s and the crystals are lurge and bold the combination
of syrup cisterns and ibis concentration enable the last and most
delicate operation to he performed duiing the day, an advan
tage - of very great importance ihe sugar should be potted im
mediately it conies Irom the pan in cases according to Dntrone't
plan, each case to hold about 10 cwt. of sugar, and each skip
ping, to fill a case, 1 can by no means approve ot the habit of

[ M7 J
mixing ^v0 or more skippings together as mechanical disturbance
is thereby created ami a consequent disarrangement iri cry'stalization and defective draining.
The temperature at which Kneller's
lear.h* enables the concentration to he effected is so low that
a (ri'ic'i greater am mm o( crystalized sugar is obtained than caa
be the case were it raised to 236 and 240 as is giitmeraliy
(trattis.'d in the common methods and the first syrups are So little
uj tired that they may be boiled into a lower quality of sugar.
Th Mill house becomes the next point of consideration, and
the arrangements should be so made that drains I rum the boiling
and cuiing houses I all towards it; nothing should he wasted and
every drop of water conveyed to the mill-bed or the boiling house
shiinld litid its exit only through the still A modern improve*,
menl in distillation, invented by \ir. Knras Coflev, peimits tins ope
ration to be performed at a saving of three-fourths of the luel
consumed by anv oilier process, and no water is required lor con
densation which is effected by means of the wash itself. I do not
enter iul,-> a minute description of the apparatus, and it will be suf
fieienl to siv the process is Conducted by passing steam from i
comoun h.iiler through a c mpirtm<;nt of perfoiated disks upon which
the wash is ulTo.vvd; to flow the stemr) carries off the spirit and entcrs another box containing a pip; traveising it in contrary direc-.
(ions, vhich conveys the wash from the charger to toe disk box
Of anilizer as it is termed the spirituous vapois coming in contact
with the cold wash-pipe is c >mlcned and Hows off hLh'v rectified
at A strength til 55 D ov rproof ; the operation is contiotioils, the
Stream of wash enteritis at one end and flowing exhausted from the other.
The great distilleries in Scotland and those of Sir Felix Booth, and many
Others in London and the neighbourhood, are now furnished with this
gpparalus, several of which are working at the tale of 4000 gallons
pf wash per hour One capable of distilling 200 gallons per hoot
will be suffivieiit for a sngnr work alid the cost is 500 a set
of stills tinder the old Sfstem would cost considerably mere and
the labor would he encrenscd three-fold. Two of these stills are
now on their way to the Island and may shortly be seen in
operation.
The expencps of cultivation per acre under the 'opposition that
a mifsorv of Canes has hepn provided during the erection f the
buildings and machinery, will he as follows, with wages at 10i/. per
iy, wolkmen finding their own tools :
2 plonghings for fallow
@ 3*.
0 6 0
Trenching* up 3 feel high 29 men. lOrf
1 4 2
Breaking tip by plomrh
;
0 fi 0
Third and cross ploughing
0 6 0
rl.i'i'imin,'
,
0 1 6
Furrowing out lor planting
0 6 0

U 3
C

:; -

Carried over 2 9 8
v
'

t 1
Bronsht over 2
JrWing and planting
184 men
U
Carriage o( plants
0
F^rst light hoeing 64 men
s
.. 0
N<-r->ud hoeing ridges II inein
i
0
Third do. nil the ground 15 men.
0
Four;b do....
...II men.
0
Ranking fur irrigation..... .74 m.it
0
$ irrigations at 9d. roclit.. .....
0
5 .su<-ceuive hoeings 4 men each 3s 4</
0
Watching.......
.>
..a.........
0

9
15
18
4
9
12
9
6
3
16
7

5
0
7
2
6
9
3
9
&
6

7 12
The above is the amount of charge in Spain, and supposing
tin- same work to he done by the same nutuk-r of
hands in this Island, at 7c/. dully wages, you have
a reduction of 1 1 7 i mm at HJ..i. ...... .;....!
I 9

*""

Slaking per acre

.....<

And should there be no necessity lor irrigation

tthf Kxpense of the rati(k>h crop will beiBurmng the trash and trimming, 7\ men at 7J.
2 ploughing*...
40 loads o* manure at Is. M
Hoeing in, 224 men at 7rf
Secoud boeingi 11 J at do.......

4j

3;

74

0 4 4i
0 6 0
3 0 0
0 13 44
0 6 8
4 10

t?pon rich lands manuie may he dispensed with,, fox first awl
second i alio. his.
Cropping charges may be thus estimated-"*
20 (.'Rne-cittteis and tniiiuieis.
10 lluilillers.
6 Catie-carriert,
8 Mill-leeders.
8 'I'rash-i-arrienL
,
2 ("isieru men.
16 [J.rfl.-fS.
6 FW-ieeders,
6 Fuel-carriers.
2 Teaebemeu.
4 Pollers,
4 Coring hirtfse metl.
4 Distillery men.
4 Cane top cutters for* stoct
Total.. .97 Men, average wages 9d. pel day.,

3 12

M9 ^

1 Blacksmith and assistant 2s 6.7.

2 Carpenters
3s
0 6 ft
25 Bullock Carls lo make 5 journeys each und
bring to Mill 65 tons of canes, Is. 6</.,
1 17 6
3 foremen 5 per month each, or 10*. per day... 0 10 0
Total chaiges pet dy of 24 hours (the above num
ber of men being a double set) to make from
lour to five, tons of s,iiar.......
,., 6 5 9
Upon these data w hi" h I believe to be nearly correct, it will be easy
to lorm a calculation as to the expense ol producing sugar in this
Colony subject to the various modifications of situation and soil. I
tee no reason to doubt an aveiage produce of 30 cent per acrte
will be obtained and this being the case, no question exists upon
profitable returns.
Before leaving the subject, 1 would suggest the advantage of
Planters endeavouring to iudp.ee the Natives to plant canes in their
paddy fields ; Irom what 1 have beep, able to pather, it will not he
attended with much difficulty, many with, whom I have conveised
profess themselves quite ready to do so, as soon as we are able
to give them plants and yritid their, canes; a public sugar mill is
in itself a very profitable speculation, whilst it enables the small
proprietor lo obtain an annual crop from his laud of much greater
\tdue than he could otherwise procure.

Among the extravagant pretensions

bf the alchemists, that uf fonniug a
Universal uicdiciue was perhaps not tin*
tntist irrational. It nan duly when Kiev
pretended to cure every disease, and
lo confer longevity, that lliey did vio-.
lehce to reason. The success of the
Arabian physicians in the use of mer
curial preparations naturally led to the
belief that oilier medicines, still more
general in their application, and effica
cious in their healing powers, might
y it be brought into light ; and we have
Do
doubt
that, niapy substantial
discoveries
were
the
result
of
such overstrained expectations. Tycho
was uot merely a believer in the medical
dogmas of the alchemists, he was ac
tually the discoverer of a. new elixir
which went by his uame, and which
was sold in every apothecary's shop
as a specific against the epidemic
diseases which wet* then ravaging
Germany. The Kiuperor ttudolph hav
ing heard of this celebrated medicine,
obtained a small portion of it from
Tycho by the hands of the Governor
of Braudisium ; but, not satisfied with
the gilt, he seems to have applied to
Tycho for an account of the method
of preparing it,
Tycho accordingly
addressed to the Emperor a lonij letter,
dated September 7, 15519, eoTilainliig'
a minute account of the process. The
base ol (bis remarkable medicine is
Venetian treacle, which undergoes an
infinity of chemical operations and
admixtures before it is ready for the
patient. When properly prepared ho
assures the Emperor that it is better
than gold, and that it may be made
Mill more valuable by mixing with it
a single scruple either ol' the tincture
of corals, or sapphire, or hyacinth, or
a solution; of pearls, or of portable
gold, if it can he obtained free of all
corrosive matter I In order to render
the medicine universal for all diseases
which can be cured by perspiration,
nd which, he says, form a third of
those which attack the human frame,
he combines it with antimony, a wi 1!
known sudnriffic in the present practice
of physic. Tycho concludes his letter
by humbly beseeching the Emperor lo
keep the process secret, and reserve

the medicine for himself alone !-W*

Marly vj Scienrt,
Jhk Death of QCilp. A knocking
at the gale he had closed. A loud,
and violent knocking. 'I ben a pause l
as if those who knocked, had si'. pre J
lo listen. Then the lm.se again, more
clamorous and importuuaie than before,
' So soon!' said the dwetf.
'And
so eager ! 1 am afraid 1 shall disap
point you. It's well I'm quite prepared^
Tally," I thank you !'
As be spoke, he extinguished the
candle. la his impetuous attempts td
subdue tbo biightuess ol the fire, ue
overset the stove, vt hich came tumbling
forward, and fell, with a crush U|>u the
binning embers il had shot toilh in
its deaven l; leaviug Ihe room in pitchy
darkness.' '1 he uoibe a,l the gale Slill
continuing, he fell his way to the door,
and stepped into the open air.
At thbl moment the knocking ceased.
It Was about eight o'clock, but the
dead of the darkest night would have
been as noon-day, in ciSJuparison with
the thick cloud which then reslnd upon
the. earth, and shrouded everything ftout
view. He darted forward lor a f<
paces, as if into the mouth of some
dim, yawning cavern ; then, thinking
he had gone wrong, changed the di>
reciton "of his steps; then stood slill,
nol knowing where lo turn.
' If lliey would knock again,' said
Quilp, trying to peep into Ibe gloom
by which he was surrounded, the
sound might guide me. Come. Bauer
the gate once more!'
He stood listening intently, but the
noise was not renewed. Nothing was.
to be heard in that deserted place, but
at intervals the distant baiting of dogs.
The sound was fat; far away now in
one quarter, now answered in another
nor wus it any guide, for il often
came li~i<w shipboard, as he knew.
'If I could find a wall or fence,'
said the dwarf, stretching out his arms,
and walking slowly on, ' I shoold
fcnnw which way to turn.
A go"d|
black, devil's night this, to have mj
dear friend here. If 1 bad but thai
wish, il niightl for, anything I cared|
never be day again.'
As the word passed his lips, h

[ an ]
WitRgetr-il nod fell ; ami m xt moment
,^us lighting with (he cold, dark water.
K ! all its bubbling up mid rushing
!n his ears, he could hear the kii<>vi>.
In* at llu- gale- agniu^7-<;n.iild hyar a
shout thai followed it could recognize
|he \iilce. for nil his struggling aud
Splashing, he could understand lluit they
tail hist llieir vjny, ujid had wuudered
l):rrt,

t(l

the

JJniut

I "Hi

V.I. 1(1]

ibc.Y

tarled ; that lUrv Wore all but look.iug

pu whjle he was drowned; thai they
were elo^e. nt hand, hut could not mal^e.
an effort to wi r him; Ihul lie himself
hud shut and paired them nut.
Ur
aui.wercd ibe shiiut with a veil, which
teemed to make the hundred fires that
danced before bin. eyes, tremble and
flicker as if a gust of vyind hud stirred
them. It was of no avail, 1 h strong
tide tilled. h\s t!)'"'"-'-1, and bore him usi,
upon its rapid current.
Another moilal struggle, and he w-^s
bp again, beating, the water with his
Lands, ami lurking on', will) wild and
glaring eyes, thai, showed hiin. some
blaik object he was dri/iiug ijlose upon.
The hull of a. ship ! He could touch
its smooth aud slippery surtace with
his hand. One loud cry lion but the
>-esistles$ water bore him dovvn before
be could give it utterance, and driving
him under it, carricd.away u mipsc.
It toyed and sported with its ghastly
freight, now br.uisiiig il agaii.st the
slimy piles, now hiding it in mud or
loue lank grass, now diugging it heavily
over roii^h slciies and gravel, H'lw
leigning io yield it u> ilsovvu el.eiuci.t,
and in the same action luring ij away,
until, tired of tiie ugly plaything, it
Hung it on a swamp a disi*a] place
Viu-ie pirates had swung in chains,
through luany a wintry night and left
It tin re to bleech.
And tlteie it l.ij;, ululic, The sky
Vas ml niih tlame, and the water ibat
Jbore it there, had been tinged with
the sullen light as it lioved along.
The plave, tile deserted carcase had
left, so recently, a living man, vva uov
a blazing ruin. J here wus, something
of the gla.rc upon its face. I he hair,
sliried by the ft amp breeze, played in
'a kjinl of pmckery of death such a
inockiry us l lie dyad, man, himself trnuld
huvc revelled in when alive iibour its
bead, aud its dress flultcrud idly in
the nighl wind. fjtiit'jilirry'x i hivk.
The position 0f rvouitu in japan

seems to be unlike what it Is in all

wlher parts of Itie East, nnd to coil*
simile a sort of intermediate liuk be*
tv. -in their European and their Ast
alio conditions. On the one tiuud, Jupitucse women are subjected to no
eXclusiou ,* they hold a lair station In
society, and share, in all Ibe innocent
recreations of their fathers and hus>
bauds. The fidelity of the wile and.
the purity of the maidtq re commit*
ted wholly to their una seqse of ho*
Hour, somewhat quickened* piThap*|
ami invigorated, by the certainty that
death would be the inevitable and iux*
mediate eonsvyuenv.0 of a delected,
lapse fi.Hn chastity. And so well la
this confidence repaid, that a faith)**!
wife is, we are universally assured,
ft phenomenon unknown in Japan,
1 he tuiiuls of the Women are as carefully cultivated as ih"se ofuien; and
limoiigsl tbe uiosl admired authors^
historians, morulists, and poets, nr
found several female nanus. In ge
nera), the Japanese ladies ure ilt s< ri
bed as lively and agreeable compeluinus, uud the elegance with whicll
they do the honours of llieir huUse&k
has beeu highly eulogized.
Jiut ii' liius permitted to enjoy and
adorn society, they are, on the other
hand, held during their while live*
in a stale of tutelage, of complete de*
penihuce upon lhi.il' hu*liunds, suit*,
or oilier relation*. They are willmut\
legal ri; litis, and their evidence in in*
admissible in a eauri of justice. Not
only may the husband introduce at
many subsidiary, uuwiddcd helpmate*
as he pleases into tbe mansion over
which ids wife presides, and the-*
women, though inferior to her in rank,
dignity, and domestic authority, in
proof of which, ihey are not permitted,
to shuve their cyi brows, ajre mil deem*
id ciiruiual or dishonouredhe bat
also a power of divorce, which m*
br eailed unlimited, since ibe ouly It*
inilatioii proceeds from hia sense *vf
({Conotuy and exuyilirue.v, A husbaml
nuisl suppiirl (iis repudiated wife a>
i oiiliiig io his oivn station, unless be
can allege grounds for the divorce
satisfactory to a .Iapaue*v Iribumilt
among wbii'b grounds, barrenness ft
one that haves the unfortunate, Child,
less wife, no claim in nliv kind of
maintenance. I* infer no ciicumMaiic*!
upon no pica nbuicver, cau a wile

t M )
demand a srsratif n from her husband .
At bomp, she is mistress of tbe smil v ; hut, in other resjierts, she is
treated rather a* toy for ber husbaud's recrt*atioo, than as tiie rational,
confidential partner of bia life. She
la to amuse biin by her accomplish
ments, to cheer bim by bet- lively con
versation, not to relieve, by sbartof,
hi anxieties end cares. So fat; from
being admitted like Portia, to *. par
take the secrets nt his heart," she is
kept In profound ignorance of bis af
fairs, public or private ; and a ques
Jon, relative to any such matters aould.
be resented as an act of unpardona
ble presumption and audacity. Mantun unit rio/o&ii of the Japanrse.
A TrFKiaH Preacher. One day
Kesir-ed-din ascended the pulpit of
Ihe pioQ,ue, and thus addressed, the
Congregation : '.'<), true believers! do
Jou know what I am going l0 say '"
you?" ' fco," responded the cnngre.gmion. ' Well, then," replied he, " there
is no uh ' of my wartime in v tint" on
u.ch an i noraut set;" aud, so aayiug,
Jke c^me down fr,um the pujpit. Uv
went to preach a second, tune, and,
asked the congregation., "O, true be
lievers t do you know what I am go
ing to. aay to you.? " We gnow," re
plied th audience. ".Then there U
o use in m,y telling yu,*'- said NeJir-ed-dlnj and. again lie. descended
from the pulpit. * When next he eaine
to preach, and asked lu's usual u,u,ea
(inn, the congregation, resuUi d to have
trial of hia powers, answered, '.' Some
s>f us know, and some of us do notknow."
V.Ot* said Nasii; id din, '" let those
*ho know tell those who da not know,
.and I shall be spared the trouble of
preaching." Si saying, he came down
Jrom the pulpl^ furki*l\ Jett Boot.
MiitaaAW awd Tkpj.btok. Templelon came to me one evening, awl
owning that Malibrajt had treated
him in a moat unbecoming and rude
D'anner, even while on the stage, ask
ed my ' adyioc aa to the line of con
duct he should pursue. 1 told him
to call upon her, suite his feelings,
and aak if he had committed any of
fence that had incurred her displeauru, and led to such a total want of

good breedingbe did as fa* oeft

morning. Her reply, between an In
clination to laugh and a disposition M.
be serious, was, ' I tboutbt yo sat.
ed, sir, to kiss me.' At this moment,
when she was the \&n\ of the people,
'.the admired of all beholders,' wbea
peers would bave Liven their cornncol
to press only the tips of her fine rv,
and the world at large was sighing
at her feel, imagine the phlegmatic
song .'iter exclaiming '. tmde lod, is
that all? Mak your miud easy, I
would im' kiss y.u for onv considera
tion ;" and shaking bands, be left the.
bouse. Hum'* Singe.
Maiibfa* axd tb> Purr 01 Po*.
txa. It may be an acceptable divrtsion from the painful details ahicq
we shall have to enter upon, to re
cord a humorous incident which 1(4
to the thrilling, the more than brilli
ant, tbe not, to be forgotten, e^eruti'O,
by Madame Jjalibran, of tbe finale
to this opera, (The Maid of Artois.)
1 bad occasion, during its last rehear
sal but, one, to express myself- in
strong terms at her leaving the stage
for more than an hour and a half,
to go and gain 231. at a mornint
concert.
Neither the concentrated
pieces of ums.ii-, nor the situation el
the drama in which she was involved,
could possibly be proceeded sill), and
the great stake we were then contend
ing, for was likely to be placed in.
jfopgrdy by unworthy grasp of a few
pound*, to. the prejudice of. a, theatre
paying her nightly five times as much.
She knew she had dnne'wron^; and
she a timed lor it by her genius, wlifU
her pride Mould not have permitted
her to dp so, She had borne ' along
the two first acts on the first nights
of performance in such a flood of
triumph, that she was bent, by some
almost superhuman, effort, to continue
its glory to the final fall of. the our;.
tnin. I vyent into her dressin^-rooiA
previous tu the commencement of the
third act, to ask now she felt; and
she replied, '. Yery tired, but," (and
here her eye of fire suddenly lighted
nP)> "you angry devil, if you will
contrive to get me a pint of porter,
in the desert scene yon shall have an
encore to your finale,"

t 853 i
Extracts front 13rrioiJtraTs.

pBnmno Ton tub Bi'iiv.Tt in a

anerciful dispensation that with pcraus diprived nf one of the senses,
Shiwe which arc left Become dOGhly
Sensible, arid lh!s lu.t is especially
fcbservahln ill tne blind, 1i<M(< *fViCwt
W touch Htiii hearing ate almost pro
verbially acute. Such of <it*.r reader's
Its have associated witB blind people:
annul fail In have remarked tile difVreiice brik.-eh those blind from ritrtjy,
ami those who Bate bccoliie snin
their youth, (IT lib r ill life, Which
latter mostly retain a feeling of regret
fur the past rib* often triitst a patig
be unknowingly inflicted upon these
in every casual conversation, be il of
Mo morn import than tiie mure passing remark Upon the beauty of a
Bower. For they naturally recur tri
the time when they corilil gather
Sowers in the bright suilshine, Slid
perhaps remember with painful precisioii, the form and colour of the last
they looked upon. We ourselves hate
met with an instance of this in a
lady who had been deprived of her
tight for marly years; and at the time
when she was reaping the benefit of
Die studies of her early youth. We
Were speaking in her presence of
Dome very fine illustration of a Ger
van peein, when joining iri the con
versation, she minted sonic hcaiilil'ul
peculiarities belmi id* to therti, tints
allowing How vividly bet iriind had
retained the last impression of night.
The blind are Indeed deeply in
debted to the efforts of those benevo
lent ami intelligent persona Who harp
tmtrihuted 10 lessen iheir deprivations
by this ingenuity. It is well known
that the first idea of printing letters
that should be horiziHle suggested lielf to the Vhl.t: H in,-, the sliperitlterident of the Institution for the bltrtd
M Paris, frniit his ohservin- a proof
heel which happened to have been
fainted only on one side, and consiljiiently the letters appeared at the
back in considerable relief. Since inert
many itwprnvemPnta- have lieert made
in the svhteai, and manv books are
BOW printed under the direction of
Dr. 1'igucr. Bjr the benevolent ex

ertions of Dr. Gall Touch has bee*

effected after seven yens of patient
investiualion be produced in October
1834, the Gospel of St. John, in
such a type as renders tbe krt of
reading art easy task to the blind.
A short description of this niay not
be unacceptable to our readers. Tha
letters are Cast in relief; the facility
With which trtev can lie ittstltigmsbei'
rt-p>"nding oil ifle perTecti.dl el their
Mirm rather iltan their Mite.
'I ha
blind loVniselvcs i'li the various InstiiUliiins ot Great Britain, America
aiid Kraiice, have beert employed in
priming mini* of. their nWh bbokij
The letters are placed In two case*
divided as usn.il iiltn small squares.
In teaching the blind children to dis.
tiiijulsh the letters; it is hot ushal
to commence, with tile fiVi Ifellers of
the alphabet, as is tlie case with those
Who have their sight, but Ihe difference
between a full stop and a comma it
first taught, then ihe Semicolon; and
front that they are led on tb the n
and ihe iilore simple letters, before,
thev are allowed , to attempt the cora
plicated frirnis. They are neit taught
the formation of Words and senlen>
ces. The paper lifted for 1 Is kind of
priritiiig Is stoufr then ordinary pae
per and Is sniped in w'tfor soma
days to preveril the <dgVs of the em*
bossed letters frorti tearing it, to amid
which, the pressure is also more' gra.
diial than in the common printing
pres. Dr, Gall Conceived that ngillar leltera would be more easily
distlhgliisheil than those of the ordl.
nurv forrri, and the remit easily dis.
tinguishe.il than, those of the ordinary
form1, and the result proved ihe 6mV
reitneis of his idea, a* these Wens
adininilde. and are considered the
most simple and langihl". fr. Gall
yet farther improved npon his first
mode by cnntptising. (he letters of a
snrcessisn of points, which he termed
fretted. So that the paper is almost
perfotafed by them. Hooks printed hs
thtw manner are also ejeeni.sl -With,
greater rase
and quickness, than
even in common priming, and tba
pages can be impressed npon both

I 554 ]
Idee. Tt was a question at first
Whether it wonlJ Sol be better to
employ only capital It tiers, but this
plan was set asi l no account of the
too great uniionnilv that would have
resulted, an I b'.tAs iiiit-nl-d fur the
blind are printed in the type uMi.iity
employed fur pulpit Biol.-., as veil as
lb* fretted furm.
The, hliod |ni|iil is taught to feel
w/llh the first sod second gutters of
bis ri.ht hmd, whilst he k-cps the
line 1j it nu'iti with the forefinger of
the left hand; the sense of tou.-h is
Ordinarily so sensitive in blind persons
Ibat they generally are able to t. -. i
r|'i I! v after a lew less,.us, vVeh wnen
their han-1 is covered with a Illicit
glove.fiireifn (Jtutrterly Heview.

and a double snaffle, patting its nreV,

and laecrariuw Iti Banks allernati Ij,
and kcepiug his seat firm despite all
its . desperate pluugi-s and viciousness $
tuis is the task he has been and
is perforating; But this is a Bit-re
uegaovc Rood, regarded by the Frcuck
as a positive evil; and in France es
pecially, every species of government,
of national movement, which lepde
not to the end of the chapter to lb*
solution, h, they say there, of ihe
problem of Society (j) is considered as
t-onteiiiptibly futile. Finality is evert
where, abjured, precisely because there
is every where an eag-r baud pres*
sure towards finality. Repression c..n.
Sequently iA uhal the age wauls, ahd
I.o;i, Philippe is for the civilized
wild at present its chief iustmiuentai
Pobitioh Attn Political port'iait
dispeuser. He seenis to have been
Of LoOla Philippe. But I.onis I'liiraised up by Providence at Ibisjuruv
tlpp*, it Is said in. 1 hoped by
tnanv, is to. stem this tide of th ture as the great Represser nf the
most restless people of the earth*
haiiuu.i! will, or rmlier wilfulness;
and its eddying*, from mnt-n ling Unfortunately, however, for himt reUnder currents, have certainly helped presaioii alone is insufficient; with it*
there must be prospective object* of
him wonderfully hitherto in damming
op or diverting it from its headlong a solid; sober kind, and much inter,
mediate, interesting Work to he .ion*,
course. Hut thai he will rrot long be
ablu to continue Ills nhstruetire policy; in order lo guarantee its operation
from the most destructive recoil. Bu|
Which the character mid teudertcies
the object ef Louis Philippe, one in
of the kingdom have forced upon him,
dispensable lo the peace, security, and
ll greatly to be feared, ^ticn policy
prosperity of the world, is to bring
from its own nature, curt bo but leiriFrance again, not nominally, or by
Jj'i'rary. If he had any one of the
constraint, or through feebleness, but
Ereat InflunmUl pavi'ms wholly with
in sound reality, into its oid family
im, ha might be able to adopt some
relations with the other slates of Ku.
following out system.
Bttt he does
rope. And in this object he has ne
t)ot possess this advantage.
Even
single, whole hearted adherents.
It
Guisot, Soult, Mole, and French conis tin French.
It looks like a cool
lervativea in general, are not more
proposal to the nation to score but
than half with him. From fear, more
the last hulf century of its destinies
than from conviction, they support the
lo abolish it, to vote il into hbti*
throne. The King, therefore, Beertis
ekistence and
BUch a half ceo.
to start! alone. To the great body
tury
! fuller, hiore impressed ailk
of Frenchmen he has the aspect of
apocalyptic meanings, more inlpreg.
n anti-national man.
Up to this
listed with the future than all the
time, ono labour, and a most ardu
ous one it Is, has solely engaged centuries preceding. We predict that
Louis Philippe will hot shcreed in
hlin. H sees and feels the evil work
his design ; nor is he a man,
ings of the democratic principle ; arid
believe, to persist in it, when It may
to subdue this principle, not by deny
become (as it will, if not abandoned
ing it, but by riding it as a breaker in
sooner or later) dAugerously hopeless,
Would a wild horse, with sharp spills
Hhckwood'i Magazine.
fiRRATUM:No. 11, Page 5<I2, Link 6, for " mored" read "covendt"
COLOMBO:
JSlNIbP AI TBS USIUID PUSS*,

CEYLON MAGAZINE.
Jfo. XIII.

September, 1841.

Vol. II.

OUR MOKTHLY GOSSIP.

We are g'ad to perceive by our most recent advices from Eng

land, that the subscriptions opened for the purpose of providing a
Kind for ilie endowment of additional Bishoprics in (he Colonies
liave already amounted lo upwards of E0,(,C0 ! ! Of this sum
10,000 were given by the Society for Promoting Clnistian Know
ledge, 5,000 by the Society (or the Propogntion of the Gospel
and -!,<lC0 by Hir Majesty the Queen Dowager. It is stated that
Lord John Russell has requested the Archbishop of Canterbury to
TioiTiinnte fit persons for these new Bishoprics which bis Grace has
consented to do.
We notice the publication, by Allen & Co. of Leadenhall Stteet
of a" Hand Book for the Indian Traveller," which we should
imagine will prove a great desideratum to the many who now take
their way outwards and In rucwards to and from the "Pearly Fast."
It gives an account of a journey performed from Calcutta by the
Ganges, the Himalayas, ihe Rivers Sutledge and Indus, Bombay
and Egypt : it also contains many useful hints to travellers to all
the three Presidencies, none of whom, we think, should be without
this travelling acquisition.

A Mr. Grant has invented a new description of fuel, which is

Staled to possess great srpeliorily over any other kind of fuel bulb,
in respect to cheapness and rapidity of guting
steam-engine*.

tip the steam

The Lords of the Adn.irnlily have

taktn

Mr.

of
0.

by the hand, given orders that Lis fuel he used exclusively in all
Government engines and reserved to lhrrr. selves the rifchl of grant
ing licenses for the use of this novel liu-1.

This looks father T.ke

monopoly, and \\*. Lope the inventor bus taken care of his otn
interests.
Miss Martinean has commenced a
subjects wh'ch
fellow."

appear

Quniierly

series of Tales on

under the

popular

title of " The Ploy

The first called " Settler at Home" will be

followed by

" The Peasant and tin Prince."

Prince Albert has ordered that an annual prize of 60 be given in
his name to a Ivy at Eton the most distinguished in modern language!.
In the theatrical and
considerable activity.

musicial

Both the

worlds at home there

German

and

has been

Italian Companies

have been performing to crowded houses: several new singeishave

made their appearance,

amongst the Germans we may notice one,

Tichatschek, a leuoi, said to possess a very sweet and powerful voice.

The

summer

concerts nppear to

equally well attended.

have

been well got np

The most prominent

those given by Ernesli Grisi, Madame

amongst

thtm

and
wets

Dukken, AJudemoisclle Os-

tergaard, and the Misses Bicadhirral.

Covent Gardiii Theatre

was closed

brilliant st-ason of 220 nights.

on

June 2d after a most

The managers of this Theatre de

serve much praise, we think, for the steady manaer in which they
have supported Shaktsptare.
taken a fresh lease of

We

hear that

the

Mathews's have

three years for the " Garden,"

ibis looks

like business.
Charles Kean lias been drawing large audiences to the

Hay mar*

let Theatre where he is going the round of his most popular cbr
feelers.

Sheridan Know Irs is said

completion of another " I'lay."

to be

busily

engaged in tut
.

. J|

f 3 ]
In one of (lie most remit London Journals we find the follow,
ing instance of Ingenuity ;
"In the window of a watch-maker opposite the Eastern Institntbn, Commercial road Fast, is exhibited a miniature working
model of a sioani engine. This unique piece of mechanism is
the production of a young man totally unacquainted with the
improved principles of steam power. The engine, however, has
been admired by some of the best working engineers ol the day,
and weigh? something less than half an ounce; the engine, boiler,
and appurtenances weigh together an ounce and a quarter. The
boiler is heated and the steam generated, from common water, by
means ol a spiiit lump. The engine will work with a single charge
of wnter for nearly half an hour, and with a velocity equal to five
hundred revolutions in a minute. The whole machine may be
deposited in a good sized pill-bos."
Mr. Murray has published the following very interesting works ^
Travels in Crete. By Robert Pasklcy, A. M. The second volume
oi Letteis from Italy to a younger sister. By Catherine Taylor.
A residence among the Nestoriun Christians of Ooiooroia and
Koordistau- By Asahal Grant, M. V. The Canative Influence of
Climate. By Sir James Clark.
Mf. tiemley announces the following novelties:The Queen's
prisoner. By Miss Costello. The History of Duelling. By Dr.
fflilLinyer. The Lover and the Husband. By Mrs. (Sore, and
Tlie Marrying Man. There are also published Joseph liushbrook,
or the poacher. By Captain Marryatt. Sketches in hnis and
Ty rawly. The Physiology of Vision. By IV. Mackenzie, M. D.
The Wye and it's associations. By Leitch Ritchie. AmnsenK-iiis
in High Life. By a Lady. The Secret Foe. By Miss E. Piekeriii'j. 'A Winter in the Azores and a Sunim r at the baths of
The Furnas. By R. and II. Bailer. Christian Institutes. \iy
Christopher Wordsworth, D. J). Three years in Persia aud kjordtiUU, By Ueurtf* i-'uwler.

t 4 r
HOPE.
Oar Hoprs what are they ? Flowers of Peace and Fahb,
Blossoms of mercy. O'er ihe putis ol life
The lovely things are scattered In the lone
And desert walks ol earth upon ibe cold
And barren rocksamidst the blasting storms
Ol ibis unpilying world where Lote tiiid Truth
Are trodden down and crushed by luiniuu hoofs
These gentle things do grow and shed around
A perfume and a grace. Their leiidti roots
Are watered by our heart-wrung tears ; anon
We warm them with out smiles. But when at last
Our hands are strelcb'd to cull tbe beauteous buds,
Which we would wreathe around our aching brows,
Alas ! they lade and wither at our touch.
Bat from their decadence Itcsh flowcis arise,
And such we deem mure lovely than the last.
J. C.

FROM THE JOURNAL OF A HOMEWARD-BOUND TRAVELLED

IN 1839.
CAIRO TO ALEXANDRIA, A5D A FLW DAYS* RESIDENCE 11 TBE LATTER ILaCZ.

uou
Jpril 30th. Having hired GliJdon's little despatch boat, we left Cairo with
regret; and passed swiltly down ihe Nile till we b*d gone t,\ Shoubta, when
W strung north wind brought u> up lor the day.
. Mag I At.Our industrious crew ImJ lowed and pulled our boat on for tbe
greater pan of the day ere, towards evening, we made Sel-hajar, where are
the mounds of undent Sai, which term au ti.dobt.ie aouitiliii<g Mioilar to
that of Liiluyasa small lake occupies (ait of the square. J he laud all
around was in a high state of cultivation, yet the thistle lute luiurmulh auiid
more profitable verdure and quickened our sicj s as we regained our boat in
a couple of miles' walk across a deeply ploughed held, ihe national lira*
of Scotland could not have been mure vigorous iu its onn huuiealead.
Snd. In tbe morning we were at Alice, where travellers usually disembark
and take boat on the Muhinoudich canal fur Alexui.uiia: but being atixi-.
ous to see Roselta and Aboukir^ we continued in our swift little vessel
up t* the former place. At noon we landed to inspect the position where the
present Pacha defeated our littlu detachment at J-.lHaniet. The spot of oar
defeat is easily recognized,- and my military coir.pauiuu was lavish in his

[ 5 ]
sbiisr of the

general officer who ceuld

lo disgrace, and slaughter.

so

rashly have

exposed liis troops

At 3 we landed at AboolMuncour and ascended

In the telegraph to tiike a view of the surrounding country vhich is rich in

the extreme the water at Ibis place is fumed even beyond that of any other
portion of the Kile for its salubrious quulitu-s.
the new fabrics

At 4 we anchored in front of

in process of building by Americans, and destined for the

clearing

of rice and pressing

scarcely

been in progress a twelvemonth,

of oil.

Considering thai
they

these

work* have

are very far advanced ; the

four Americans occupied niib the building and in putting up the engines fot
Hie

1'acha, complain of the

difficulty

kind and attentive, escorted us

cotton

fabrics,

and

inlo

the

of obtaining

rival steam-concein

erected by Mr. Galloway the

'J bey

for

the clearing

f rice

than it was, uud ought lo be.

The cotton

occupies 4b0 persons, chit fly boys or youths,

who ull bear the stamp on their utuis which uiuiks their servitude.
hits many houses

Here

loiter living deprived of Europenu superintend

Juiff, is loom! fur less i Anient

fabric is worked by oxtn and

materials.

through the town and attended us into the

Kosetta

still remaining which shew its former consequence, but it

is now dirty, ruinous and fallen ; its custom-house lately the size of a watch
man's box, lias been increased to the magnitude, of a, small guurd room : the
lrewr canal curries oil' trade to Atfee, ami were it not lor the factories here,
which cuunul be

removed, old lluscliid

would perhaps speedily be deserted.

The Viceroy shuns n tisit lo it, having had it predicted to him by an Arab
Astrologer that at Kaschid he will
evening with

meet his death.

We passed a pleasant

the American mechanics, uud returned, uncle-deep in mud, to

our boat.
:3rrf. We started ut four, ourselves, our baggage and suite being conveyed
by eight dotikeys, not of the fumed breed of Cairo, but superior lo those of
Upper Egypt.
bore across

It was shaiply cold

when we passed through the gate, and

plain which reminded us of the desert pillars at convenient

distances point out the Hue of route, and at 6 o'clock we. first saw the Me.
dtlerruueiiu, un old acquaintance of mine, and one on whose shores my happiest duys have been spent.
ing our ba;guge oiiwuida

At II we hulled lor breuki'ast, uud then

send-

to Alexandra, diverged irom lue roud lo have at

least a look ut Ahi-akir now a shipless bay, but one how proud to our
memory ! u Nelson's island," which forms a portion of the curve, is culled
(iroua by the uulivcs 1

was disappointed iu not hearing our gallant conn-

try man's name giveu to il by our guide.

A new palace has been built by

the Governor on the lieigiit immediately iu iroiu ol lUis inland and which ap
pears to have hecu the slalioii occupied by the French when our troops land*
id on the 8lh Murch 1801 j we did not go into the town, but after having
studied

the position from our notes, hastened to join our people, that we

might not be too late

for the Alexandrian

gates, wuicli dose shortly

after

araset. We reached the rapilal al 5, having ri lien oar poor Bttie dooifTs 43
Biles ia 13 successive o,u'-, au 1 lut-v A^r*riJ ai coining iu le fatigued,
than we acrea coil i.J iu uie iDon.iug and tne whole das'* son bad
given oa a rep>-tiun of the p --i. .g i.f tar chserlexj-osure a, pears col to
harden the akin.

r'iudinj; the ll-trl u r.u: -p* i'aU of English tra>rilers, a*

jjDl op al toe Orient in the New i^Tc-ei, a C":.Murtabie inn

where we spee

dily renewed acquaintance anil rr-.ucb entremets, and European aataalra of

ail kinds.
tlh.

SundayTbtre is a Prous'ant Cl.nj<rl in Alexandria, Vol no t haplaia

or Missionary, and the residcuts are ii.jI disposed to adopt Ibe sensible prac*
lice of reading prayer* alternately.

Iu a c..uutry like Egypt or Tuikey, where

Biusaiues aland always open, and Ibe believer euurrs alienever the fixed daily
hour of prayer remind* biui of his duly, the English more tlian any other
nation, most appeal to

merit (be name of Giaour whicli is given tbem.

It

ia truly aaid, to our leproaib, that we first build a Custom House ia nor
own colonics, and then a palace for our Governors, but a C borch ia seldom
erected.

Ibe French scarcely share in ibis condemnation: tbeir'a is of a were

serious nature: a young officer bas just said to me " Mid je ne suis rieo,
Monsieur: mais ai je lus quelque chose en fait de religion, je serais Catboliqne : il est si agreable de pouvoir se

faire absoudre

quaud on a couiaiU

quelque pecke extraordinaire." In the afternoon, we went to Cleopatra's obelisk:

it is very similar to

that at

Heiiopoiis:

three aides, but on the fouilh they

the

hieroglyphics are perfect en

are much worn fiooi the action of lilt

Maa second obelisk lies near ibe errct one, it is una nearly embedded iu
sand Tbcy are

more than 60 feet high, and of a pule red granite.

cartouches of Thulhmoscs

HI,

and Kcmesea Ainuure,

The

appear ou the tlat

urface whilst those of mucb later Pharaohs occupy spaces along (he edges
of bjlb obeiitks Piiiiy sua they stood iu front of a temple of Cagsar.
6th.*1 be t uufcul, Air. i.uikius, ha\iu< spared us his janissary, snd given
Ua a letter to .Mahouiuied liey, superintendent of the arsenal, we proceeded
thither, accompanied by Mr.

i'ra.ser

Sonneukaib, a Bombay merchant.

of the Bengal civil seiviee,

and Mr.

Muliauiiued Hey was brought up iu Eugiaud,

remaiued there uiue years, and relumed to Kgypl tour years ago with SeJm.
Bey, the present Mmi-.ur of public instruction, uud others: he
ugllsb lady al Southampton, anJ uas several

children

by her.

eery obliging in his attention**, but the arsenal appeared to

mairied an
lie

aa>

me only worth

aee-iug on account of lue extent of its buildings, which are appropriated to

the niaoulaeiuie

ul' every

thing

le^ai-dle fur the ileel, tVeu including the

clothes and shoes of the seamen indeed

these rooms

seemed the best at

tended aud to have ihe greatest produce of industry iu theui.

The ropewalk

Which is indours, is 1'2'CJ feet long 1 suy nothing of Ihe other divisions: the
whole seemed to me a toy -.. op ou a* extensive scale.
Ihe iivj' was no

1 3

donbt glad when his task of escorting such active enquirers was endad

nil

Ut obligation wns lo send us in Ms own boat on board the new corvette, lie
equipment of which is not yet completed.

Spraking as landsman, I should

say she is a splendid concern : so clean, an largo a deck, spacious cahins,

noble guns and so forth bin I should like to have an experienced SRilor'i
opinion on the subject of this and the Parha's other ships.

There are about

20 vessels of the line in the port of Alexandria: we went from the corvette
to see one

of 100 guns, the Faynotn :

it was strongly manned, but mora

thim one.-tiiird of iis crew were boys from 8 to 14 years of age, nasty, ragged
Utile whelps: blear eyed and dirty-nosed.

These vessels make a great display

in the harbour: but they seldom put to sea, and whenever they do so, they
are obliged to unship their guns, and take litem in again outside, the channel
of Alexandria not affording sufficient depth for the exit or entrance of a first
titer fully equipped ; they tell us most, if not all, of those fine looking shipi
re broken-hacked, and tint

to

satisfy

the

Pacha's impatience, they

ana

generally built of green timber, which would open after two or three broadsides,
even of their own guns! but if the Viceroy is contented with this semblance
of strength, so much the belter for his

enemies he is not likely lo

hare

ftuy actual contest except with his own roaster, and then I cannot help wishing
success to the O.sinaulee over his crafty subject.
Froni the arsenal we went lo the new palace which is being prepared for th
Pacha its outside appearance is like an Knglisu gentleman's mansion, ni at but not
Striking: inside, the staircase Is low and paltry ihey were psiDting the balustrade
to resemble variegated marble j it is in exceedingly bad tastebut

the dining

and bed rooms, the drawing and sitting rooms, are handsome in the extreme,
and the

English furniture and mirrors which

fill Ihein could

n t be belter

selected : the chambers are smaller but more elegant than those of the Cairo
palacesand as for the bath, it is a ne plus ultra of comfort and good taste*
I almost longed for an ablution in its marble basins and repose on its stuffed
leather couches.

This palace has not yet been tenanted by the l'acha hitherto

in Alexandria he has always resided in one immediately opposite, in which

his harem is lodged, and which he has now given up to his son Seyd Bey.
Two years ago, Mohammed Ali gave the notice usual among Turks of high
rank, that he intended to dispense with his female establishment,

and with

the ceremonies customary on such occasions he took public leave of his wives
and mistresses.

Those who were present say it was an affecting sceneto

some he gave the means of returning lo the homes from which tbey had
been brought, and a maintenance

for their lives for others still in the bloom

of youth he provided husbands whilst to such as preferred the remembrance

of the life which was closing on them, he secured a comfortable residence ID
the palace which he himself abandoned And this is the domestic life of the
East the social comfort which attends the evening of polygamy.

Indeed, in

deed, '"Joe Anderson, my joe," with its pathetic simplicity, would be Bttb
understood nmong those orientals.
On returning to the town we weut to the- raneelluria'' of the Consul to oblaio
passports; all its suhallerns, including tiie Vice Consul, were foreigners : a French,
man, a Pole, an Italian, but not an Englishman .vas there ! * There's your passport,
Sir, pay 22 piastres ! ! !"

We did so, anil Urns nrmed, proceeded to ilie i>genry of

the "Lloyd Austriaco," and took our passage in (he steamer" 11 princijx Metteruieh"
for Rhodes,

Smvrni, and

Constantinople paying

about JC.

14. for

Srst

plaoes, which does not include living on board, the expence of which is about
five shillings per diem.
7th.

We passed the greater part of Ibis day in reading the latest numbers

of the Galignani, coining up to the I7ih of last month, and width had just
been received by the French Steamer from Marseilles.

The Cabinetio Littcrario

has papers from almost all parts of the Continent and is a quiet comfort
able book-room Three piastres (Hd.) are paid for a renrf.
8fA.

We rote very early, and passing through the Roselta gate, proceeded

to Abercroinbie's hatilc-ficlii.

It is about four miles distant from the town,

and two from the French lines ; there are several small knolls in the plain
which bear traces of having been

occupied

by troops, nnd ihe purposes of

which were well made out by reference to Walsh's sketch which wo had with as.
The Roman ruins must have been the principal

station ; in

is the position of the redoubt, and a still green

marks the spot where the 30tli distinguished itself.

sent be made outthe ploughshare is already in
plain of our victory.

front ef them

hillock at a small distance

Not a tomb can at pre.
many

places busy on this

We were most anxious to discover the memuriuls said

to have been raised by their companions

in

Dnions, and a little Bedouin lass, who

had joined us from

honor of Sir ltalph, and Col.

a black tent

pitched near the ruins, gave us to understand that she knew well ihe " mafctoob hugger" or written stone.

Leading us through thistle oud bramble, the

former sharper edged than any Scotch tree of the same growth, she couduet.
ed us to some small Roman catacombs, and bidding us follow her, preceded
us; but ber "writing on the wall" turned out to bo the representation of a
thip in charcoal traced by some lazy vagrant, who had here perhaps turned
side to cover his feet.

She seemed surprized at

but was overjoyed at getting her promised fie.

our not being delighted,

Our donkey-boy now cam*

forward and swore he knew where the objects of our search were, and I was foolish
enough to follow him for an hour, when, up

to the very ancles

in mud,

I found myself at an inbreak of the lake, not for from the French lines, where
Syenite columns, slabs, and capitals were lying in numbers around ne.

In

a small pool of water lay an excellent head, unmulilated except at the nose,
and alongside of it were the limbs and
onions.

trunk of a statue of very large pro.

Wa thought we had made a discovery, but we were afterwards la.

9 ]

formed that those were the debris of an Osiris which were long under orders fof
England.

We were also told that the stone raised to Col. Duten's memory 1

now included in the threshold of a house belonging to a Greek at Alexandria.

In the afternoon, we went to the so-named Tompey's pillar; a very elegant
column, but needing a stnlue on its svmmil, or some distinguishing memorial
of a similar nature to make it appear otherwise than

one remaining out of

many columns which most probably were formerly on this spot.

We strained

our eyes to no purpose to discover the inscription ; they say it is on the west
aide of the pedestal, and was once tilled in with
by an English lady,

but the sand

has

white

on

a black

ground

since covered it np I could not

even make out the trace of an engraving, and we w.'re afterwards told that
it can only be seen at three in the afternoon, when the sun strikes directly
on it.

I.adies even are said to have ascended this column, which is near 100

feet hia.1i.

Prokesch alludes to some witty lines written by an Englishwomaa

Jrom its lop to a friend, who answered her from

the bottom of Joseph'* well

at Cairo.
9th. Stayed at home the greater part of the day and rode in the evening to
Seyd Bev's palacean unfinished building about three miles offon our return from
which we bad a fiue view of the city from an old redoubt, near which wo
visited the remains of a Roman temple, where there are some painted figure*
on the wall, curious enough to merit copying ere the hand of time or of
travellers shall have destroyed them.

As far as the gloaming would alio*

us to see, thev appeared too modern in the form of dress and face, ay even
of moustiicbp, to be ol ler than Roman, and too good in point of execution
to be of a more recent da'e.
10th. Took leave of onr very few acquaintances, and heard the news just
received

at our Consulate, that the troops of the Sultan, unrestrained by the

ailvice of the English and French embassies in

Constantinople, had entered

Syria from three different quarters and that the armistice between Turkey and
Egypt was thus broken ; Mohammed Ali had issued a proclamation, in which
he announced that his orders to

his son Ibrahim had forbidden aggression,

but commanded a repulse of force by forcehe therefore threw on hi* master

the blame of Woodshed, and trusted to Allah for a gond result.
11th.

At 8 a.m. we went on board the Principe Metternich, being the only

two passengers in the first placesour companions for Constantinople were

about 50

Hadgis and 200

Nubian or Abyssinian slave*, who lay along thai

poop and deck in every direction, or were hustled together in the forehold.
Our Captain seemed ashamed of his cnrgo.and in speaking to us on the subject, gav
us to understand that he aud his employers could know nothing more of them than
that they said they were pilgrims, and their followers were their servants.

They

seemed merry little devils, of all ages and both sexes, and their masters were, as
Turk* always are, kind natrons, shewing manj UtUe indulgence*, and taking

10 ]

evidently as much rare to feed them as they did to provide for fhemsetrel.
There could

be bo doubt whatever

as

to the position in whi rh they stood

to each other; indeed I thought I recognized

among the girls one or two of

the faces I had seen round the fire on the evening we left Luxor.

Il took ut

tome time to get clear of the harbour of Alexandria, after which we speedily
feat light of land.
But I must say a few words about this second capital of Egypt ere I part
with it. Alexandria may be called the Pacha's Frank metropolis,it is en
tirely different from Cairo or any other town in his dominions.

The streets

ate clean, and as broad as those in most of the second or third rate towns of
Europe; and the Strada Nuova would be rcckoued elegant even in Paris.

It

is there that almost all the Consuls reside: its width is equal to that of Port
land-place, and if pavements and lamps were added to the other

innovations

here exhibited, it would not be far inferior to that splendid thoroughfare it

self.

Behind our

hotel, which was in the centre of that street, was one of

the okellnhs which C'apt. Light mentions; tbey are square enclosures having
but one or two entrances, which are secured by gates almost impregnable to
an Egyptian mob; hither
of tumult, or

Europeans, or quiet citizens, may retire in limes

when plague

prevails, Ihcir appearance is similar to that of

the squares of old London inns, the several chambers of which form the cir
cuit of upper galleries, to which there is one common staircase.
inconvenience is

that

everybody sees

The great

everybody, coming in or going out:

and the idea of retirement or family seclusion can only exist in the internal
chambers.
In Alexandria we saw for the first time in Egypt few sufferers from ophthal
mia this may be owing to the greater cleanliness out of doors, for I should
imagine that nothing can

be more injurious to

the eyes than the noxious

vapour steaming from ordure or vegetable filth.

The population of the town

appeared more composed *f Franks than of natives, and such Franks!

the

European residents call them Levantines ; our term of Levanter may perhaps
be traced to these rip-looking mortals.
were

two English

Capt. Li^ht mentions that ill 181-1 there

mercantile houses here : there are now about ten.

women met with in the

streets are as closely wrapped

up as in

The

Cairo or

elsewhere, and have the very look of ambulant mommies; it was not our good
fortune to see any of the fair sex within doors ; the bright eyes shining above
the brass rings of the strip which covers their faces, would seem to give promiso of charms, which are not ulwuvs possessed.

The surniau adds certainly

great brilliancy to the optics, y H in one or two instances when a near ap

proach was permitted me, I did not admire its effect: perhaps it had not
been well laid on in those cases. The streets look gay at 6 when every
resident turns out to walk, or- ride

on donkeys, or loll in shabby vehicles.

EH)

otherwise the town is as dull as can be : the monotony being . only broken
by the arrival of steamers, or news of the progress of quarrels between the
Sultan and the Pacha, or of some fresh monopoly taken up by the latter,

RECOLLECTIONS
or a
GOVERNMENT EMISSARY.
CHAP.
Spread of discontent.

challenged by Thlstlewood.
guage.

VI.

The Manchester Massacre.

Secret Meetings and sediticvs lan

Gale Jones's Letter to Lord Sidmoiith.

Thickening of the Plot.

Lord Sidmeuth

It's consequences.

Political Placards.

The spirit of discontent which led to the riotous meetings

and disturbances of 1M7, was still at wotk in 1819 and spread
ing more widely than ever. The abuses and grievances in the representation and administration of the country, which, during the
long war bad been forgotten or suffered to exist liom the ex
citement ol foreign afians, now that the people had leisure to look
at home and enquire into matters, were loudly declaimed against,
and to till thinking minds it was pretty evident noni the many meetings,
lectures and works on the subject, \ha\. something must be done e're, long.
I atu inclined to ascribe the i cstlessiiess of the nation at this period to
another agency, the Press. \\ nuiii a (vw years, vast improvements,
had taken place in our ptiiodicul literature. The introduction of
steam-power had enabled the propiielors of the several papers to
add greatly to their contents in the way of general lufoimalion, and
subjects were now discussed which under the old system and when
so much of warlike news was given, had never been thought of.
ii is a iiatutal consequence of the close ol a protracted war that
numerous classes oi the community should be thrown out of em
ployment, and it w;<s amougsl these that arose first want, then mur
ium s, .ii ii I lastly crime.
Meetings were being held all over England during the early
part of 1^111, hut they were all of a perfectly peaceable nature, and
until the lamentable affair at Manchester in August, not an act of
violence was committed. The particulars of the ever memorable
" Manchester Massacre"- are too well known to need recapitulation.
The news of that bloody affair was variously received in London.
By the lower orders it was looked upon as an earnest of what
they were to expect from their rulers. By the well-disposed, mid
dle classes it was regarded with uneasy feelings. By those in

12 ]

power, particularly the ministers themselves, it was exulted over and

looked upon as an act thai would al once quiet any discontent or po
pular outcry for reform. That it led to very different results from
what they anticipated we all know. I well remember an inter
view I had with Lord Sidmoulh in thp latter end of August at
his private residence. I (omul him walking up ami down his study
evidently wrapt in some subject of moment. He was huned in thought
and did not see me for some lime, but when he did, ami when
he made allusion to the recent Massacre as an untoward affair,
his eyes glistened like those of a tiger in possession of his prey.
His joy seemed scaicely containable. 1 luuud to my vexation
that 1 was once more to be put in requisition on the same unthank
ful service as in 1817, and most likely with the same parties.
His lordship bad intelligence ol meetings to be holuen all over
the metropolis, relative to late tramactious, and of their proceeding*
&c, he wished to be kept well advised. Fiom certain expressions
let fall by him I had no doubt but that he believed something;
decisive was about to take place, end that I knew was the very
thing he hoped lor, as it would luriiish him with a pretext lor
the introduction of further coeicive measures.
With my special private instructions in my pocket I went home
and laid plans fur lutuie operations. It was about this time that
Lord S. received a challenge from Anhur Thistlewood to meet
him in Hyde Park, which was ol course refused. Thistlewood
was apprehended and bound over to keep the peace, but his rest
less, daring spirit, was not to be held by bunds or penalties, and no
sooner was he al liberty than he set to work heart and soul, at
the old game, and iu a very short lime had loruicd a numerous asso
ciation.
1 had my eyes upon his movements and soon laid his proceed
ings before the M'uister. 'J be ilow-stieet otliivis were set upon
the gang but in vain, for they were loo well known to do anv
good, so the entire wolk was Jell in my hands, with two or three
private agents of Government to assist me. My first act was to
enrol myself as one of the body, the next to get one ol mv
most confidential assistants elected their secretary, which was n grand
point, as il gave me ready access al all limes to their proceedings
and correspondence.
This Association was the result of a numerous meeting held in
Siuiihfield Market on September 10th to petition the I'rinc Re
gent for relorms and redress of grievances, and of which Henry
Hunt had been chairman. The latter had just returned from Man
chester and was met on his entry into Loudon by a vast eoncourse of people. Of course the minds of the populace were not
a little exciled by his account of the receul transactions at Man
chester. A committee had been appointed to piescui the petition
at the head of which were John Gale Jones and Henry Hunt,
and they were then waiting the result and holding freijittui consul

13

lotion? in a small house in Three Kings Court, Fleet Street with Thistlewood's Association winch had deeper and more desperate views, ne
vertheless the two were perfectly cognizant of each other's inten
tions. It was extremely difficult to ascertain how many were leagued
together with Thistlewood, for there were no settled places of meet
ing nor any regular proceedings: the meinbeis met at uncertain
intervals and places which precluded the possibility ol my attending
them all. I was however, present nt sufficient to gather that some
mischievous, though certainly not dangerous, operations were in course
of projection, of all of which Ministers were well aware, looking on
with calm indifference and only waiting till the pear was lipe that they
might exhibit it as a proof of the wickedness of the lower order*
and of the danger of trusting such with political power, in fact
using them as political scare crows to keep dowr* the restlessness of
the middle classes.
Knowing as I did their cognizance of every trifling incident
connected with Thisllewood's plotting I certainly was astonished to
hear the ministers declare in the House on the capture of the
conspirators the following spring, that the government had only
been acquainted with what was going on thiongh the letter which
Hy den delivered to Lord Harrow by the previous day in Hyde Hark:
they declared that though they had some faint idea of some mischievous
caballing yet nothing was known ns to it's nature 01 extent!! Why
the speeches delivered at these secret meetings were noted down together
with all the resolutions passed, and even the quantity of spiiits
and beer drank by the plotters were not omitted, all of which was
laid, in an official form, on Lord Sidmouth's breakfast table every
morning!
The first meeting of which I sent in a written report, was one
held in a chapel in Hopkins Street, Hnlborn, on the 27lh Sep
tember at 8 P. M. Waddington and lugs were there, as also a
delegate from Manchester. The latter addressed the meeting at some
length and in great bitterness, which was not to be wondered at
considering the recent shedding of blood in that town. There were
not moie than shiny present, but they all appeared to be men of
daring and energy and their speech did not belie their looks. The
I'liuce and his ministers were of course abused in the foulest language,
the lornier beiui; leiiixd a liar and a tyrant, and the latter i>l.m<ldi inkers und murderers. Amongst the many pleasant proposals made
was one in seize and divide the property of the rich, and in order
to secure the good will of the army to grant a pieee of land to
every soldier according to his rank. It was unanimously agreed
by those present that the Manchester Masiacre was the coniraence.metit of a Revolution,
Waddington declaimed most violently against ministers, and de
clared that he would not wait any longer fur justice but would
go and demand it with arms in bis hands. If no one would join
him he would jjo alone to Downin^-Sircet. lugs, the Butcher, said

[ H 3
thai arms were being made as fast as they could collect money to
|my for litem, and be advised lliose who could nol affoid to pro*
em* fire-arms to borrow a grindstone and sharpen their knives on
it, and with them they could rip open the
of the bloody oii
liUtcrs. He meant to rip up the Prince and afterwards hang the
lr.xly of the tyrant on one of the lamp-irons ol Carlton House.
The Scriptures say that "he who sheds blood his blond shall he
slied," and he was determined to have blood, royal blood for the
victims at Manchester. These are a lew of the heroics indulged in
by the desperate characters of the day.
Anoiker favorite place of resort was the White Lion in Wych
Street, Smind : it wag a house little frequented and therefore we!l
adapted to private assemblages. 1 saw the late Henry Hunt there
trtviut times but he was a wary man and did not join, though
Le listened to, the violent language of the others. When things
were taking a more decided aspect he became alarmed and sought
an opportunity of withdrawing, which he did in October. Gala
Jones followed l.im when he found measures of violence were de
termined rn. The meetings weie comparatively peaceable and loyal
to ih'^e which took place after the royal reply, through Lord
SiJinoiii!) to the Smithfjeld petition, in October. The lone of utter
cmerrp which pervaded that unwise message induced Gale Jones,
who foresaw the consequences of it, to address His Lordship, beg.
ging him as adviser of the Crown to re-consider his answer which
in the meantime should not be published.
The letter is here given, as it will shew that all of the discon
tent, d pirlv were not anxious for sedition and rebellion, but inriinrd to treat amicably on points at issue. It was well for the
country thiii the royal obstinacy did not bring down the "Sans
Cnlrt'.'es" and the " Guillotine."
"To Lord Viscount Sidmouth,
ice.

&c.

&c.

Mr Ijid, Deeply affected with the deplorable condition to which.

I Urh ild the people of this country reduced, an.d perceiving a hopeles--.rn.-s in the ptibiic mind that any relief of their sufferings, or
cren that the boon they ask, "Free Representation," is intended to
hv- granted, perceiving that despair is tilling the minds ol multitudes
ol inv cuuiitl v men, and tearing llie contusion and mischief to which
]x|riitar ireuzy may lead, I hid induced, My Lord, again to trouble
m-i> in hopes that you may yet be inclined to advise His Kojal
llighness the Prince Regent, to take into his consideration the ap
pal i b.id il.e honor o! delivering to you, and ihal he may be
(rrarionslv pleased to give the People hopes either by Proclamation
or otherwise that he will listen to their claims, to send a Royal
Message from the Throne recommending both Houses of Parliament
to letvrni the abuses of Representation, or to adopt some measure
calculated to pacify a Miserable and Starving People.

t 15 j
*' Believe me, my Lord, I feel much reluctance to convey to inj
fellow-countrymen the answer 1 had the honor to receive from you
on Tuesday last, apprehensive that when they know His Roya!
Highness still persists in treating their Pejitions, Remonstrances unci
Appeals with silent indifference, it may lead to some violent ma
nifestation.
" I will not call his silence contempt, my Lord, because I cannot
believe, however humble and forlorn may be the condition of the
People, that either His Royal Highness or his Ministers could use
bo cruel and dangerous policy as to scorn their suffering cries, but
loth as I ara to trespass upon your Lordship's time, I air. still
more so to lay the answer I received from you before the Public.
" I am willing yet to believe that you will humanely be pleased
to enable me to bold out some ray of hope that measures are
likely to be adopted to refoim the piesent partial system of repre
sentation and thence to pacify the People. Trusting your Lord
ship will honor me with an answer calculated lo appease the dis
turbed mind of a, starving multitude,
" I am, My Lord, &c.
John Gale Jones."
Three King's Court, Fleet Street,
Xov. 2d, 1819.
I need scarcely add that this letter was treated with silence, and
when Jones found that nothing was likely to be done, he announced
the royal reply to the committee and through it to all the different
meetings in the metropolis. This, as may be supposed, roused the
angry spirits which had 'lilf then laid dormant, to active step?.
Meetings were very frequent during the whole of November and
December, so much so that 1 found it impossible to get notice or
attend one-tenth ol them. I therefore paid my chief attention to
the principal icndezvous, in Wycta Street, where Thisth wood and
and Watson wire constant speakers. Placards woe now printed
and distributed amongst the lower orders, pninting their grievances
in most glowing colors, and calling upon them to rise and arm in
defence of theii hearths and families. One of these was headed
"The People's Proclamation" and commenced thus,
Whereas in divers ports of Great Britain numerous Cabals of
BorowjhmoHijers, Pawns, Lawyers, .Magistrates, Country Squires;
overgrown Landho'ders, Fundholders, monopolizing and cheating
Tradesmen, Manufacturers, .Merchants, and others of Hit Ma
jesty's avaricious and oppressive Subjects, have for many years
been privately held; who, or many of whom, ivith divers Po
lice-officers, Placemen, Spies, Bloodites, Pensioners, and In formers,
being lazy, worthless, and profligate Persons, together with divert
other time-serving, unprincipled Lickspittles, Nincompoops, and Do
tards, by abusive, slanderous, and malevolent Speeches addressed

t 16 1
io each other, have encouraged each other, and endeavoured to bring
into hatred and contempt and neglect the Rights and Liberties
desired by all honest People lu be established in this Realm, to the
great disgrace of the Faction in power, and the Commons House
of Parley, for Resolutions and Measures in the siid pandemo
nium complotted, calculated to cause distress and to excite dis
content and revenge towards the Magisterial toh of Faction, that
enforce and collect the People's properly, or that distrain Jot ex
cessive Rentals and Taxes.
Copies of all these were obtained from the printer and laid on His
Lordships table, frequently before they were distributed by the com
mittee.
At Christmas when many were out of employ and all were idly
disposed the number of the association was greatly augmented and
affairs began to weal a more serious aspect. Subscriptions u tie set
on foot for the purchase of arms and ammunition, and for the
renting of private rooms where the sword exercise might be practised.
Banners and devices Were designed and plans for an attack ou the
authorities were regularly discussed. It was about this time that I
recollect first seeing Greenacre, afterwards so notorious for the dreadful
murder he committed. He became a regular attendant at the Wych
Street meetings, but was a man of no courage and shrank Irom
active measures at the last. It is a singular fact that though lie,
with many others, escaped at the lime of the conspiracy, he eventu
ally met with his reward and was buried within the wails of New
gale in the very next grave to Thistlewood his fellow conspirator.
The winter wore on and rebellion reared it's head in numerous
quarters: arms and ammunition were collected in the houses of the
plotters: seditious speeches were indulged in and plans concerted,
nut they wanted the unity or the nerve to take immediate steps:
the spring approached and brought employment to many hitherto
idle and discontented, but who now, with work on their hands,
thought no more of politics and plotting. There were other spirits
however, who once raised could not he quieted, and they began to
grow inrpatient for the opportunity of striking a blow.

17 ]

An account of the Establishments for the Administration of Jvstict

in the Settleiiitnts on the Island of Ceylon, wider the Government
qf the United Provinces, of the different Members who composed
thew, and */ the Local, Chit, and Criminal, Original, or ^ipellatt
Jurisdiction exercised by them.

(CoXIBIBUTED BY GeoHQE Lit, ESQ.)

COLOMBO.
At Colombo three Courts of Judicature were established;
1.

"The Hiifl' van Juslitie" or "Court of Justice."

2.

The. "Collegia niu Huwehkse en kU-ii.e gericbts Zaal.ru" or "the Court

of Matrimonial and petty causes," which was also called The Civil or Iowa
Court."
8.

The " Landruad" or " Country Court."

The members and the Jurisdiction of these Tribunals were as follows:

First,

The Hufl van Juslitie or Court of Justice.

a President and eight Members.

1 his was composed of

The person colled the chief administrator,

and who nas the first civil seivuut of the Dutch East India Company, was
penuunuitly 1'resident.

The numbers consisted of two officers in the military

service, and six civil servuMs of the I in j any,

Inferior to that of junior merchant.
hers, the

Fiscal

the latter

of a rank UOI

In addition to the President and Mem*

also wus entitled to a vole in civil causes, as a member,

end to a seat next to the President, a respect paid bim as being a member
of Govern ment.
In criminal cases the Jurisdiction of this

Court extended over

and Town of Colombo, and tho whole of its environs known

by

cription of the Colombe Dessavony, or Collectorship, including

the

Fori

the

des

the districts

of Calturu, Negotubo, Batticaloa and Chiluw.

In civil cases its original Jurisdiction was more limited, snd extended only
over the Fort and Town of Colombo, together with a small spore of ground
without the Fort and situated within the certain specific

boundaries

called

the gravets or limits.

In civil suits nut exceeding fn value the sum of Three
dollars the

sentence of this Court

Hundred

were definitive, and without appeal.

cases ot greater amount an appeal lay therefrom

to the

Uix.
In

Court of Justice

at liatavia.
The sentences in criminal cases could not be carried into execution without
the ratification of Government, but the Government bad no power to modify
X3

13

OI. alter (hem -,-if however lliev were dissatisfied, they hix) antV.riv to dirWt
the Fiscal to opponl against the decree to the i i urt of Justice at Halm it,
or to

stay the execoliou and

transmit the pn .ess to Butavia

for the dis.

posal of the Supreme Goveranient.

'-

The summary execution, railed Pnrata Exectitio, could not be carried into
effect

without the sanction

of the Fiscal, to obtain which the PlaintiC pre.

tented him tbe decree, and the Fiscal affixed his 6at, on which tlii execution
immediately took place.
This Court exercised appellate jurisdiction over every tribunal throughout
the Dutch settlements on the Island of Ceylon.
2o7y. The " Colleaie Tan ffuvnliikse tn* kUine acrichlt
Com! o/' Matrimonial "and frill/

etweV'aUo called "the

sisted of a President and six Members.

The

servants of the Company.

The

The

President was always one of

the Members of Government, three of the Members were

remainder

Zotiln."

I ivil Court" con

Captain

Burghers, and the

of the Burghers was

permanent Vice- President, the Deputy Secretary to Government was a

inenibef

and permanent secretary of this Court, one of the poorer clerks of the Court
however,

acted for him in the latter capacity.

The local jurisdiction of the Court was similar to that of the Hon* ran Jnstictie
in civil cases; but its power

was limited

to cases not exceeding in value

the sum of 120 rix -dollars.

An appeal lay

from its sentences to the Court of Justice at Colombo.

Previous to the year 1783, the Commissaries

for matrimonial affairs had

formed a separate esUilHshmeul, but at that period their luuclions were united
to those of the Court for petty cues.
In their former capacity, all persons who

proposed

to marry

(the

Ciughalese and other natives excepted) were obliged to appear before the Court,
who examined whether the parties contracting were related within the prohibited
degress, or laboured any under pre-contract.

If there were no lawful Impediment

the parties were registered, and the secretary's certificate

to the proctor of

the Church authorized Inn, to publish the banns of matrimony.

3iYi/y.
Dessave

2'he " Landraad" ws constituted in

the

following manner:

or Collector of Colombo was the Permanent President.

bers were the Fiscal, tbe Chief of the

Tb

The mem

Mahabadde, or Chalias, the Tombo

keeper or Register of Lands, the Muha Modeliar of the Governor, the Modeller
jf the Collector, and the Secretary of the Coart.

1 here were also five or

six other Members who were generally appointed

from among such of the

.uuior Merchants and Book-keepers of the t ompany, as were out of employ,

or whose employments were not sufficient to occupy tin ir whole attention.
The I.andra<td in its original institution, was a Court established for the
v4ctcriniuaiiou .of contests among the Natives' respecting Lands, merely; its

*.. .

19 ]

'local jurf-.diction extended over the whole roHectnrabin of Colombo, excepting

the lands of Chilaw, and tin' lands uilliiti the ;;i-:iv;- 1 .- nr limits, which us hat
been before mentioned, belonged to the jurisdiction of the Court of Justice. '
In the vear 1770, the Gurerumeut of Ceylon

authorized the Landraad to.

die. do mil ouly on contests' relative to land, but on all disputes of civil cog.
uizance arising among the natives under its jurisdiction.
On this arrangement tlie Regulation for the 1/diidruads framed by the lata
Governor Van de Graaf was ratified by Goreruinent and issued in the year
1789.

The Supreme Government of liatavia disapproved this Regulation, and

directed that the I.andruad should bo limited to the

determination of those

mutters only for which it had originally been instituted.

The correspondence between Ceylon and liatavia, each Government adhering
to its own opinion, was carried to a great length, and in the meantime the
Regulation of M. Vau de Graaf had been introduced,

and was observed by

all the Landraads, it being found by experience to be well adapted to the circuujgtauces of the Datives, and the decision of their contents.
.All sequestrations derided by the Court of Justice on Lands lying beyond
the gravels, were executed by the I.andraads, and proprietors of lands were
not at liberty to dispose of their estates without a certificate from the Laudraads staling that no impediment existed to prevent the alienation.
JAFFNAPATAM,
At Jaffnapalam the Judicial establishments were formed on the same model
as those at Colombo, and consisted of ' The Court of Justice," the "Court
of Matrimonial and petty causes," and the " I.andraads."
First.

"The Court of Justice" was composed of a President, eight Members and

a Secietary.
consisted

The Commandaut was the Permanent President,

The Members

of the Dcssave or Collector, the Commandant of the Troops, the .

Administrator, the Secretary to the Council of Government, one Military Officer,

and three of the Company's Book-keepers, in addition to which persons, the
Fiscal in all civil cases was entitled to a vote.
The jurisdiction of this Court in criminal cases extended over the district
of Jaffna including the country called the Wanuy (or more properly the Vahna)
from its being covered wiih wood, und Mauuar.
In civil cases its jurisdiction was limited to the town and fort of Jaffja
palam and a small part of the country

known by the name of the Fiscal'!

I hurch District.
The sentences of this Court were final in all civil cases not exceeding in
value the sum of 300 Rix-dollars, in

cases

beyond that amount au appeal

lay to the ( ourt of Justice at Colombo.

la Criminal cases its scutcuce's could not bo executed without the iatjfica.

t 20 ]
tfon of the Government of Ceylon, in the same manner as hes been men.
fioned under the article of Colombo, but whenever an aviesl was dinned, it
lay to the Court of Justice at Colombo, and not as in the latter settlement 10
the Court of fiatavia.
Here also " Parma Executio" required tbe

fiat of the Fiscal, previous to

its being carried into effect.

Second. "The Court of Matrimonial and petty causa" was composed of a Pres
ident and six members.
The Administrator was President.

Four of the members were Burghers o

Jaflna, and the other two were Company's Servauts.

The Chief Officer of the Burghers was alu-ai/s the Fice President.
The Sectetary of the Landraud officiated also as Secretary to this Court.
Its local jurisdiction in civil cases was

similar to

that

of the Supreme.

Council at Jaffna, which was limited to the amount of ISO Mix-dollars, and as
appeal lay from tbe sentences of this Court to tbe Court of Justice at Jaffna.
Srdly.

" The Landraad" was composed of the Dcssave

was President, the members were

or Collirtar, ho

selected from tbe junior

Merchants

and

Book keepers of tbe Company, and some of tbe Kalive Maluhar Chiefs together
with a Secretary.
Its jurisdiction within the District of Jaffna was
to that of the T.andraad of Colombo, subject to

similar in every respect

an appeal to the 1 ourt of

Justice at Jaffna, provided the permission of tbe Commandant of that place.

was previously obtained.
GAM.E.

At Galle the same arrangement of the Tribunals prevailed.

First.

"The court of Justice as composed of a president, eight members and.

a secretary :

Of these the Commandant nas permanent,, president, the Admi

nistrator, the Commandant of the troops, tbe Master Attendant, tbe Book-keeper
of payments, the Chief Warehouse keeper, the head S>urgrun and a Company's
book. keeper, composed the reet ol the Court.

'Ihe fiscal

in civil eases pos.

sessed a vote.
The jurisdiction of this Court in criminal rases extended oTer the District
of Galle and Ihe

Dissavonie or Collectorship of Mature, and was exercised

precisely as at Jutlim] Mnni.

Jn civil cases, alter the alteration in the functions of the Landraads which
baa been before mentioned, the jurisdiction of the Court of justice was limited
(O the town of Galle and its

immediate environs; it

ci tided

game amount and subject to the suuie appellate jurisdiction

cases of tbe

as the Court of

Jaffnapatam.
Secondly.

" The Court for Matrimonial and felly causes" was composed of a pre

[ 21 -]
aidpnt am! fruT numbers; the Administrator
the Hi.rghtrs

was President, (he

Captain of

\ ict- \'n sidi nl, tl.ite of lie ntnLi-is were Eurghcra, and one

a, Coin) Lin.v's scrvutit.

Its jtuisdicii' n was limited to causes let trending oi.e

hundred Kixdollnrs vviih nn a| peal IherefK in to the Court of justice.

Thirdly,

"lie Lavdraad wus cn-| oted of the Hupfiiuti i.rii nt of tlie Guile

fori? (or 1st division,) President the Pookkeeper of payments, Vice President,
tbc 1 oiuIki keeper,

cerluin of the Company's bock-keepers, the

Modlinis of

Galle, itud ol the ( orlca or Districts, together with two Mohnndirunis of the
Ijody guard and the Secretary; whenever the chief of the Mnbubaddc (or Cba.
lias) happened !> be at Guile, ho also had a Mat uud voice

in this t uit,

utvi lo the President.

'1 lie jurisdiction of the t'onrt extended over the whole District of
arm that part cf

the

Gall*

Wailuuilli Coile which belongs to Galle, with an ap-

{leal from its sentences to the Court of justice, in the same cases, and iih
the sa restrictions, as fropi the l.audraud at Jutfua,
ClilLAW.
The itibubitants of ( hilnw being entirely Cingalese, there was at that town
laudraad only ; it consisted of the Chief,

as President, the principal 114-.

live chiefs of the several departments into which Chilaw is divided; the So"
etelury of Government
appial from

at I inlaw

its decrees lay to the

was Secretary ol ;he J.audraud also.

An

Court of justice at Colombo; provided

permission was obtained Iroui the Governor.

MOELETiVOE.
At this

place was held

I.andraad,

for

suits arising iu the Waiuiy or Valuta country.

the determination of all civil

It was composed of Ibe Chief

01 the Wauny country, as President, the cnniinnnduiil of lite troops, three Civil
Servants of JUoelelivoe, the Company's residents at the outer
District and the itiudc dais ol the dijicitnl provinces,
teruineut

nations of this,

'lire Secrtlaiy

of Cio-

at Aiocletivoc was also Secretary of this Court.

MAN^AAR,

On similar principles

the

Lutnlraad at

Maunaar was formed.

The chief

was President, the eomuiaudaui of the troops, three Civil Servants, an 1 the
Chiefs of the natives were members ; together with

the Secretary of Govern

ment of Mauuaar, who was also Secretary of this Court.

1 1 in each of the Luudraads of AJoeletivue and Mauuaar, an
allowed to the Court of justice at JaHinipiitiiu),

appeal was

but the permission ol Hie res.

pectivo couiuiaudeur* at each staliuu was necessary to its allowance.

BATTICAI.OE.
At this place there were two judicial establishments, a Landsvergadering and
a Laudraad.

[
Firfrf.

22

" The Lundsvrrgodcriiiy" or " /Issrmbly of the Poutitry" was composed

of the Chief of Bntiicaloe President.

The Corumondant of the Triwvps, the

Commercial Book-keeper, the Aeting Secretary of the principle Native Chiefs:

This Court

determined all contests

provinces, belonging to

arising between the inhabitants of the

Batticuloe and exercised regulative power' over lbs

agriculture, taxes, and onilli services, (that is tax in lieu of personal service).
the resolution of litis assembly were transmitted

for approval or reversal 13

Jhe Government of Ceylon.

Secoxdtg.

" The LiiiulmuJ,"

consisted of the

same President, and other

European Members, as the Laudsv ergedeiiug, together with the Surgeon and.
Company's Presidents at the outer station*.
This was a Court of Civil Jurisdiction over the Inhabitants of Batticaloe
only.

An appeal

herefrom lay

to the Huff van Justice, at Colombo, the

permission of the Governor having been first obtained.

CAI.PEKTYN.
-

At Calrentyn, during the last ten years, the Chief alone acted as Judges

.in all civil cases.

PUTLAM.
.

At Pntlam a Landraad was established, consisting of the Chief as President,

the Wamrias and the Chief of the Mnjselinaus, an assistant a servant ul the
Company's was Secretary, an appeal lrom hence lay

to Court of Justice at

Colombo, the permission of the vJoveraur having been previously obtained.

LIFE

IN

THE

JUNGLE,

Oa Iimnv FIIII.M A PLANTER TO BIS COUSIN IK LONPON.

I.ETTKH III.
To John Smith, Cbutchsd Fbiabs, London.
Spying Bungalow, Jvne 20<A, 1841.
Mt Dear Cousin, Since my last from this we've seen and done little or
nothing, lor what with the heavy rains
bad qui to enough to do in doors.

and getting

to rights a bit we've

Talk i>f rains indeed, I only wish some

of you in old England could get a sight and a taste of oue of the tropical
showers.

You'd think you hud gut the New Kiver or the City canal Hying

about your ears, and no mistake.

It doesn't seem to require any very extensive
jor engineering to erect the

knewledge of architecture

temporary Bungalow of a Coffee ^Planter, and

ytn Mr. Trunk has made a shocking mess of mine !

Its architectural pre-

I 23 }
j.nrlinns are certainly of the Adam ano Eve order, and consist of fnor nn.
equal, crooked sides with a very unsightly roof, and a door that nil) not be,
persuaded on any account to come near the door post.
posed of green branches of trees stuck a
the twigs and leaves left

My walls were com-.

foot or two into the ground, with

on them to keep out some of the wind, the roof

is merely grass luid on pretty thickly, and affords ah excellent and commo,
dious retreat for rats and snakes of all sorts.
the isle, which

The floor is the pure foil cf

being of a fine bright red Rives a nice tinge to our wearing

apparel, particularly during

the heavy ruins.

or rather stuck the bungalow on

My

superintendent had hitilf

the side of a hill

which he had levelled

to a certain extent but not sufficient); t" prevent every thing having a decided
inclination

to slide towards

one end of our hut.

The

first few nights I

found the floor so tdoping that I was continually gliding towards the bottom
1 art of the oed,

and with my

feet projecting bejond the bough-nails

into

the rain.
Another evil was that although onr being on the side of a hill protected
Its from the wind, it at the same time caused us to be inundated by the
mountain streams that came

pouring don from the top of the hill.

day I really thought we were all going to be washed away.

like mad and the water on our mud-floor was rising

One

It was raining

every minute.

In my

distress I called for Mr. Trunk, but he was not within hearing: then I sent
fof some coolies and they would not stir out in
Do time to lose I had
cut a channel

the wet, so as

to off coat and shoes and with

for the water, by

there was

spade and pickaxe

which means the delnge was

tinned off.

I Used to think, and I dare say so used you, consin, that an indian juugle
life, a sort of I'aul and Virginia existence, Was
Viful thing.

And so perhaps,

a most delightful and bean*

it is, with two young persons maVing love,

like the above individuals, hut when it comes down to a mere wife and two
very small children, the thing is altered altogether and it won't do.
What nonsense it is for those chaps on the stage to pretend to be so happy
when acting an indian character, with

their bear-skin jackets and oh no- wo

never-mention-ems, their fowling pieces and their clay houses.

They appear

to be so comfortable and snug, and sing such a lot of songs:

humbug !

hut its all

A week out here in the jungle would knock them all up.

IVoper

too, in his American novels, makes one belieTc that the Cherrykeys and the
Snatches,

with their scalped brads, their tommy-hanks and

their portable

. furniture, are the finest chaps in the world, und a great deal happier than
the Lord Mayor of London ntth his glass coach and six, and his gold sword.
Hut how is it they make such a capital thing of a savage life, says yon ?
Why, says I, because they say nothing about heavy showers of ruin, having
your curry and rice spoilt, or your bed wet, and never allude to such articles
iv6 squalling children and a tidgelty wife:

there

aint any romance ia them

24

tfcfnpi, so they give them the pn by.

]
Thnt's how llipy manspe It.

show all these writer chaps tip, some of these odd days.

Put 111

You cockneys niay

think what you like about roughing it, oil 1 know that I used to fanry I
Weut IbroOgh great hardships ivhen I happened to he caught in si shower of
rain in Eppiug Forest ami had to stay all night in the nearest public-house
with nothing hut

cold

mat

Epping Forest is not to be

of Ceylon.

It tit a

shower of rain in

mentioned after the monsoon

and country

beer.

in the Backwoods

Authors are clever chaps at description, hut, believe die, roughing

It in a book is one tiling and rouhing it in reality is another.

I have heard of a writer who used to travel and give an
voyaging without ever stirring from his hotise.

bit study and give a rbaptvr tin fery article he came to.
I

do the

same, as

I've not been ruriher than

account of hit

He would no regularly round

Now why shouldn't

the kitchen and the Hues,

and give an account ef my 'Mscovcries ?

As I told you before, our house is made ot branches of trees twisted together. At
first the leaves filled up tiie spaces between the sticks and kept out the wind and rain,
but now that thev are all dead and fallen off, there U some very extensive open
work about the walls, not a little enlarged by our confounded monkey who prefers
going out by any way but the door.

I have found it necessary to hail* up

all our dresses, my wife's sarsnels ami my

guinea ducks included, atony the

tides of our bungalow to keep out a little of the wet and cold, and I assure
Jou thoy give it the appearance of the inside of a royal Persian Tent, although
Mrs. Brown, who always will destroy my poetical and historical associations,
declares it bears more resemblance to a clothier's shop in Houndsdilch.

One

corner of about four square feet is parted off by boxes anil porlnianlles for
the children's nursery and my wife's dressing-room, which is really necessary,
for Mr. Trunk and the coolies walk slap iutn our place whenever they choose,
without so much as knocking at the door.
It has been dreadful work getting the chihiren'6 clothes dried these rains,
and as yei we've no one to do our washing: twice a week there's a terribli
assemblage of small articles of dress of various shapes, strung up along the
room, like reams of paper in a printer's office, and really it requires all my
presence of mind

to dodge between them without

things would never dry were (it not for

the help

getting a

wet face.

water and my sleeping on them at night, wbieb latter has given

twitches of rheumatism.

The

of snndry bottles of hot

me a for

But my 'wife's everlasting monkey causes me more

trouble than everything else

put together.

I'm obliged to tie him up In

bag ou sashing days, or he'd play Thomas with the clothes, and
of spite be amuses us all day with a quiet, subdued yell.

then oat

It was but the

other day he scoured off with one of my open raters in bis paws, but he
was puuisbed for hia pains, for as be a us flourishing it about on the lOol

25

It look off the tip of one of his ears.

The rascal has been quieter since, and

calipers off whenever he sees me going to shave.

M v desk is ill a comer near the door, where I transact all my estate bnBiness and give a daily audience to Mr. Trunk, who details to me the transac
tions i>r the past day,

the

stute of the coolies, ditto

operations Him should

be pursued.

detailed at full length

the necessaries

of weather and the

On my first interview

of this kind he

of a pood estate, amongst them

he

aid a good winery was ihe most important and should be begun immediately. Think
ing that he was alluding to some building for my children I thanked him for
considering their Comfort, but said I meant to make shift with a corner of
m\ bungalow. Ten and ink could not describe anything like Trunk's look,
on hearing this;

found out afier

to u nursery of Coffee plants.

healing about a little, that he alluded

His talking about

the lines for coolies also

bothered me a bit at first, for 1 could not imagine that lines was the name
of their dwellings, and only thought of lines to dry their clothes on.
ever, I expect I am now pretty well up to all
to turn out a first rale planler, at ltasi so

How

these things, and am likely

says Mr. Trunk, and he must

know a good planter from a bad one.

By great perseverunoe I have succeeded in petting in, with a gang of 60
coolies, about fifteen thousand seedlings.

Ouly fancy, cousin, fifteen thousand!

Why, if they was grown big, and all in a row they'd go ri,(ht from Clutched
friars to the London Hocks.
giNe me at three
been out in

the pouring rain

do grow a bit.

I've been

pounds a tree and 1

to

calculating bow much Coffee they'll

find its a good

sec my young plants

lot.

Twice have t

aud they certainly

I had a ohair tied upon pedes and was carried by six men

with another to hold a talipot leaf over my head, for I dont care a dump
how I expose myself, if it's only for example's sake.
lung by my side, and in my pocket along with

My telescope

wit

memorandum book, knife,

string aud compass, was a flat green bottle well corked and certainly as well
filled.

I fancy there are very few Planters who would have sallied forth in

that way, and in that weather, but as I said

I do not mind difficulties.

few hours 1 did about a couple of days work.

In

I first measured the prin

cipal plants and noted down their height with the day of the month, for theae
are things that demand precision : I then counted the whole or them to see
if any had been stolen, knowing what shocking thieves the natives are, but
found them all right. After this I made a general inspection of my cooliei
and their tools, under cover, and then

trying 10 catch a glimpse of the dis.

tent mountains through the mizzling ram, I proceeded to the " Lines" and had
a regular survey of them.
I don't think I can give yon a better idea of Malabar lines than likening
them to the roof of a long English barn taken off and placed on the ground.

t 26 J
Deuce a bit of vail In there to them, and as for doom, winders and crnmhllea,
the; wouldn't have them if it to save their Uvea.

They gel in and oat

at the ends, and the iimoke oozes out wherever the snakes and the rata malt*
holes for it in thB roof.

When I

they were built under ground and

above the earth.

first saw my liuea

thought In be iur

that only a part ef the roof was visible

I managed te scramble In <m my hands and kueea anil

when inside, Oh !

what a hogo assailed

my note.

A dozen tanners, glue*

makera and soap-boilers would have been perfumers' shops in comparison.

must confess I 'vaa shocked at the idva uf human beings herding together la
such a state of filili

auu

discomfort, and immediately determined to bnfld

large and commodioua houses far them as soon as the rains were gone.
floor was of inudjof course, and the only

The

visible o intents uf the little cells

were a roll of matting in one corner for a bed, three stones for a firerlaea,
a basket hanging from the roof with a few fruits alid vegetables in it, upon
which lay a child fast asleep, some earthen vessels fur cooking and drinking,
and a flat and a round stoue for grinding up their curry stuffs.

Too or three

naked children round the fire in addition to the one in Ibe basket, the wife
stirring the curry pot with her fingers, and a little tiny fox nosed, wire tailed,
snarling enr at the entrance completed the Tout Assembly, and a precioui
dirty, romantic, stinking, indian assembly it was, too.
Glad enough was I i
creep out of these i etched abodes, jump into my chuir and turn homeward.
The visit, however, did mo some good, for it made me feel quite in elyslum
h> my own comfortable hut.

How little do we know, cousin, when we complain

of our owu discoinforis and

annoyances, of what thousands of our fellow-

ereaturea aro

undergoing

of.

I would advise all (rumbling jind discontented

persons to take a stroll through the world

and just compare their own lot

With that of many oftlieir brother pilgrims of life, and depend upon it theyII
go home again with quite a new rig-out of feelings.

I know when I re

turned home after my visit to the lines, and found myself imide of Eppiug
Bungalow I made sure I had got into Buckingham Palace by mistake.
By the next morning I had a plan lor a new and improved set of build
ing* for my laborers, laid nut on a larte sheet of cartridge paper, and a very
pretty place it seemed to be, although my wife did say thai it looked like the inside
of a work-box.

There was t be no stint of room : every man was to have a sitting

and sleeping room to himself, and there was one general kitchen lo the whole lot.
The rooms were

to be

floored,

with good atout walls, lofty, and strongly

roofed : In short I meant them to be nice little bits of places something like
the fishmongers

alms-houses in Shoreditch.

But when I came lo show the

thing to my man Friday he actually laughed at me and declared that If I

built such a place

I should not get a single cooly to sleep in it.

scarcely credit this, bat he assured me it was a fact.

could

Why, said be, if they

i 27 J
don't sleep close to where they cook, they'd perish with cold, and what Malabar
do you think would ever live in

a room that he could stand upright in.

Then again you've made all the room* ten feet square.

Now our Malabar*

average rive feet ten inches and if their places exceed six feet in length they
would not *tay in them.

It would be no use

giviog them twenty dollars a

month, if when they lie down they cannot touch one wall with their feet ami
another with their head.

Your rooms, too, are boarded and how conld they

throw all their slops and messes

that plan will never do.
would not stay

on the floor?

If yon build such

a month with you.

No, no, continued Trunk,

a place as

that, your

coolies

I was obliged to give up my liberal

acheme, and have since seen enough to convince me that lie was right in ht
advice.

What a precious set of black mortals they are to be sure!

I forgot to tell you that we are without servants.

My Appo came to me

a few days ago with a face as long as from here to the Lines, and begged to be
allowed a holiday to go and see his mother, for that she was *' plenty sick"
and he was her only son.

The request seemed moderate enough and I gave

him permission for a week, together with his month's pay and a little more
in advance.

A day or two) afterwards master cookey wanted

outlandish place or other, to see bis sister married :

at all aud I had to decline compliance.

to to to some

but that would not do

He wheedled me out of his month'a

pay however, which be said he wanted to send as a present to his sister, and
Mrs. Brown added something out of ber own pocket, besides a little finery for
the girl to wear.

The next morning, breakfast did not make it's appearance

at the nsual time, and

called to

I sang out

for cookey, bat no

Mr. Trunk, he was out in

cookey replied ; I

the " nursery" with

all the corlies.

There was nothing left for me but to walk over to our kitchen, which 1
found as desolate and deserted as Robinson Crusoe's island.
lire, no nothing.
see them.

No cook, no

All gone but the pots, and they were so black I couldn't

Here was a dreadful state of things !

last, and the children In particular.

All of us ready for break-

I broke tbe news to Mrs. 15. as gently

as I could, and w agreed that there was no help for it, but to light a fire,
and do something for ourselves.
could no more get a light than
moon.

But when it came to tbe do I found I

I could

borrow one from

rub and a phiz and the fire's alight,

but

and there's not a bit

to use a burning glass by, its auother pair of shoes.

my gun and in a minute I

had a

The rascally cook had left all

$1 tUe eud of an hour I made

all wet
of sua

At last 1 thought of

light, but the fire

was a deuce of a

bis fire- wood outside, and ".' had been

raining a series of rivers all night long.

breaking up a deal clothes box

its just

when your matches are

with rain, when flint and steel are unknown,

job.

the man in the

With a box, of good Lucifers the thing's simple enough :

There

was

no alternative

but

and some of the alkiug-slicks with nbich

about pint of water luke-waixa!

it tat

28

A wretched lime, what with burning my fingrrs, spilling the victual*, rrarking
tbe earthen pots, anil dirtying a pair of my whitest (lurks !

How

I anatbe-

i) ui'J the cook I leave vod to guess: I can only soy that if a teuih part of
my wishes respecting the prosperity of him and his family had been fnltiled
Hot one of the tribe should ever have cooked aga'n iu. Ibis world, but bavo
tasted a curry hotter than capsicum or chillie could make it.
We have since had our meals cooked by two of our Alulabsrs nives bul
Dot liking our food smoked daily I am writing to my friend in Colombo to
send up a cook

aud boy without

delay.

See if they humbug us !

they each have a dozen mothers on the poiut

not if

of death, and keenly sisters

tout to marry.
The messenger is wailing for this so I will conclude by assuring you of
our welldoing in the words of Mrs. Squeers."The Pigs

is well, aud the

Soys is bobbish."
Ever your Cousin,
SAMFSON UKOWN.

" NORAH OP GLYNN."

A Tale fkom the times or Captain Rock.

CHAP. I.
When Meara and Sullivan bad separated, the latter returned
slowly in the direction of his uncle's house, revolving in his mind
the prudence of acquainting him nt once with uh.it tie had seen.
On arriving at the house however, be found all dark outside, and
apprehensive that an untimely visit might prove more prejudicial
than advantageous lo his intentions he delcutd his interview imlH
the following day. In the meantime Meara had 'enciiid his dwell
ing full of plans to avert the storm which he clearly discerned in
the manner and conduct of Shane Buic. Lute as it was lie went
in search of a poor idiot boy called pool Jem residing in Glum,
who possessed a sufficient degree ol sense to tumble h\tn to profit '</
the very impression winch his folly made upon others.
lie was
what is called in Ireland a ' Half Xytur.il, ' and having been, as
is usually the case aim.;. ; the poor, lell by his family in lullow
the bent of bis own inclinations, be hud often attended the muratideis during tbe preceding winter, and leceived Irum Kdinund
Meara many little kindnesses at diflerent limes. To this boy Mea
ra went, and having directed him to call ou him early on th
following uioruin- lie returned home. When the boy arrived at

the appointed hour Menra had his orders rend}' for him. He had
two letters written, one to Noiah's fattier as Irom a Iriend of his
brother's at Kulhkeale requesting him not to lose one moment in
setting oil tor iiis lisicbnie il he expected 10 see him alive ; the other
wax for Ninali herself requesting an immediate interview at an ap*
pointed place. He directed the boy to call at daybreak ; to slate
thai be was directed not to lose one moment in deliveiing it ; that
be bad travelled all night and never slopped on his way. As poo/
Jem was known about the country as a taitblitl messenger this ac
count appe.ired the more probable, and the opening dawn ol the
morning saw the old iniin on bis miserable back speeding towards
Riilliloiiie. Having delivered his letter to Nora'b, Jem was directed
to watch for Shane Buie and misliad him as much as possible as
to the contents of the letter, as then- could be no doubt thai he
would hasten alter his uncle if be heard that his father was ill.
That he should not learn any tiling of the matter Iron) llie old
man before bis return Menra felt pirfeclly sulisijid, lor the miser
would not run the risk ol being requested, much lss obliged to
take him behind him on '.he horse.
As soon as the hour lot meeting her lover approached, Norah left
her lather's house, but she bad entered the Cileu ere she could
distinguish the awkward form ol bei cousin sloping alc.ng the brow
of the common. Having mined aside to nvoid discovery nrd taken a
more ciicnitous 1011I she left him to proceed on his way. VV hen Sul
livan drew near to bis uncle's habitation he was met by poor Jem,
who pretending not to see bim was singing in a strain of cracked
melody
" Wanst mnre ngiu
" I'll walk liie fctiu

" 111 sarcli or my uvu Ihrue love !"

Then coming forward as il he had unexpectedly met Sullivan

he pulled the lutvlock ol hi;- bair in token ol respect and said
"Morrow Mislher ! will yee's give' us a halfpenny to buy marvels?"
"To be sure I will, Jemmy my boy, when
thing )ou know! Did you liild the mare's

you gel me the

nesl lor me yet,

Je:nmy ?"
"Be gannies, I was hunting for it all dny Sunday, Sir, an'
shore I seen the goolden eggs. Sir; an' whure does yer honour
think I seen 'em ?"
" Where, Jemmv '"
" Jist whure yer honour's standing; afore Miss Norah S//ivan's door'."
"No! Jemmy; you've not in earnest;" said Sullivan, not perceiving
the irony of the boy's remark.
"Iss, Sir; an' when I was running to tell yer honour, a fairy
came an' w'tiipi Yin all away from me so he did, lot all the world
like C'apt. M earn; Iss, Sir; an" that's as thrue as the shloue an'
the bill bey ant."

t 80 ]
"Hold your tongue yon young natural;" lepKed Sullivan, nowadvancing and knocking at the door.
"Arrah, Mislher Sullivan, shure it's not going to buckwhUh*
in an imply hmiie yecs are ibis mornin! The ould daddy went
off to Raihkealc wid miss Norah this morniu airly an' 's not to
be back alore the diiy alter to-morrow !"
"Is that the way with them!" he replied not a little disappointd; "and did the old man leave no message for me?"
" Sorra taste ov a ward lie said to me, Misther Sullivan ; but
will [ run an' ax hiiu ' I'll not be a minnit !"
"Is it running to Rathkeale you're talking of, you fool! Hold
your prate, and the skewet to you!"
"Will yecs give us a halfpenny Sir!"
" I'll give you a kick in the backside, you nip ; he off with
yourself or I'll make a marvel of yon to the world's end" so say
ing, the disappointed suitor turned from die door and sought his
home.
About a mile on the lower side of Glyn, by the river side is a
small nook shekel ed by willows and reeds which grow on the mar
shy banks that protect the inner fields. It was to this nook that
Norah hastened to meet her lover, and here she fouud hun wailing
anxiously I'm her at rival.
" Well, Noruh ; so you're come at last !*
"I am, Mr. Ned; and now mat I'm here what do yon want
with uie, that made you semi for me so early this morning ?"
In a few words Meant told her of the occurrences of the past
nighl and of his plans, to Irustrate, if possible, the intentions of
Sullivan; she heard him with much attention and then said quietly,
" .My father will he mad all. out, wheti he tomes home and liiids
that you have done it !"
" I intend sending Jemmy away (or a few weeks, and then the
old man will be foiled !"
" There is no use in it ;" she replied : " Tis more than likely that;
be has told it all before now; I saw Shane Unit- goiug up to ibe
house as I came down the glen, and I hid i in sell till he passed,
to hinder his seeing me. Jemmy was then before him!"
" I know he was, Norah ; for 1 desired hint
and mislead him about his uncle!"

to

wait for him

Tis uouse I tell you, Ned; Shane is too deep for the likes
of b ::u
"Well, Norah, what do you say now? Will yon come with
me, or wail until your father comes home and force* you to marry
him ?"

t 31

" Is it now yon mean !" said the girl, looking him full in bis facewhile the crimson blush covered her checks and ntck,
"Now, if you will, Norah ! But if not now say when! Remem
ber that Shan* Buie will use every Hrlifice lo enrage your lather and
that he will must piobahly consent to your marriage at once!"
"Listen tome, Ned! I will not many fc'liaiie Buie, if it was
to cost me my life! mid / will not go with you unless you have
ft priest to the fore'."
" And will you come with me, if I bring a priest to marry us ?
If I bring a priest to my own house, will you come theu with
me and we shall be married ?"
"I will Ned, provided you promise me and swear to me by
this cross" said she Inking up too twigs Irom the pound and l!xing them in the shape of a crucifix ; " that you will not ask me
lo go without you have a priest at the house before me !"
Meara took the little crucifix and kissing it swore solemnly to
the girl that it should be as she desired. " Now, Noruh dear ! since
I have sworn to tliis will you coil': to-night, and 1 can easily
bring a priest irom Askealon to be there before you !"
During this conversation, Norah trembled violently; and now
that she had fully committed herself she was quite overwhelmed
by her feeling and burst into a flood of tears. The prospect of
leaving her father's house without his sanction and during his ab
sence terrified her; while the prospect of being married to her
coiis'n contrary to her will deprived her of the resolution she had
formed of refusing a hasty marriage. At the same time the cer
tainty as she thought of being secured to Mearu as his wile and
the hope that her father would afterwards consent to receive them ;
together with the escape from Shane Bute's solicitations were too much
tor her already tried heart, destitute as she was of friends lo con
sult with or to protect her. She cried bitterly for some time
silting on the bunk and rocking herself mourulully from side to
side with her face hid in her hands.
"Wurrah sihrne, hut 'lis I that's to be pitied this day without
fnolber or sister or brother to speak to or advise with ! Ob father
dear, if you were the lather to me that you ought to be, 'lis a
happy girl I'd be this morning, and not going to leave you in this
way ; dear, dear, what will I do at all at all! My heart is break
ing within me when 'tis singing I ought lo be with the little birds
in the glen if all was as it should be!"
So saying, Noiah's tears flowed doubly fast and she wrung h. f
bands in an agony of distraction. Mrara tried to soothe her feel
ings, and after some time, parity thro' his assistance and partly
from the exhausted state of her own leeliugs she gradually became
more tranquil.
"There's no use in delaying what must be done before long,

32

Ned! So in the name or GD let it be to-night. But I will

not touch one farthing of ilie money '."
"Well! Norahj just a* you please! To tell you the irnth, I
do not see any hanrl In a person's inking what is their own and
what must come to theih sometime or other; but if you don't like
to lake it 'tis no mailer. The only thing is that we'll want to
give the priest a ireat of something besides his dues and I have
Ijol got much money about me."
"Whisht Ned, whisht; sav no more about it; I will vol take
the money, 1 will not rob my father and leave him p.-nnyless and
childless together; No, Ned say no more about it now."
"Very well; I will not; now about our meeting lo-uight; at what
hour shall I go for
;"
" Wanst mire auiri
" I'll walk the (-lin
" In sarcli of my own thrua love !"

Said > voice.

Tinning round they saw poor Jemmy worming his way through
the sedges towurds the spot wheie they were sitting.
"How now, Sirrah;" said Meara impatiently. 'What do you
want here ?"
"Slop Ned!" said Norah laying her hnnd upon his arm ; nry
be he can tell us, what he said to Shane Buic ! 'morrow Jemmy !"
" 'Morrow mislher ma'm
"Silence, Sirrah!" said
of yours, or I'll give it a
to some purpose! did you

I mane ! Wanst more agin, Til walk"

Meara 'Stop that squeaking windpipe
bath in the river that will moisten it
see Mr. Sullivan'""I did Sir!"

" Well, what did he say to you ?"

" }Ie toult me, Snr, that he'd give me a half-penny to buy
marvels when he cum home !"
" Come home from where? Where did he go to ?"
" He locked the door an' put the kay in his pocket an' rode
ff lair an' aisy I"
" You stupid dolt 'lis of Shane Btiie I'm speaking ! Did yon!"
" Slop Ned, leave the gorsoon lo me! Did /ou see Shane, Jem
my ?"
" Did I see him is it ? Iss mn'm !"
" Well, tell us what he said to you like a good boy and 111
give you a hall-penny!"
Thank you Miss! He axed me, Sur: no I axed him was
he going to bmkwhishl in an empty house; an' he then axed
me whare you wor ; an' I said, says \, ihe nuld daddy is gone
so Rakkeale, wid Miss Norah, this moroui' airly. Now Miss, will
you give us the hail-penny ?"

[ 1
"Stop a while, .Jemmy, 'till we're done ; ivliai did he say to yon then ??
" lie said that he would kick my backside, an' make a marvel ov me !"
"What else did he say, Sirrah," suid Meara angrily.
" He said nothing iiiu'm snr I mane !"
" Did you see him since, Jemmy ! which way did he go when heleft you ?"
"He went down the ghn Miss; an' I since seen him riding
Mr. Moony 's liaise allher the on Id daddy !"
"The devil yon did!" aid Meara so violently as to make poot
Jemmy scumpei off us last as he could.
" Norah ;" said he, after a moments deliberation, "Shane Bnie will
overtake your lather, and finding that you are not with him he
will bring him baik, especially as bis not having received a message
of his lather's illnes will look suspicious. There is only one thing
for it and that is for to come home with me at once, and when I
have left you there, 1 will go lor the priest."
Alns poor Norah; surrounded by difficulties; already under the
seductive influence ol her lover's sophistry ; and Icarfnl of the effects
of her father's anger, she thought of no alternative; so reluctantly
following in his path they silently proceeded along the shore until
they cume within a mile of his house; when entering the skirt of
Beechmotint Copse, they traced their way unobserved to the resi
dence of Kdmuml Meara, and Norah passed the threshold that led
to ruin and to death. No marriage rites were confirmed by the
blessing of the priest; nor could entieaty resistance or renewed
supplication shake the purpose of her seducer. Edmund Meara had
his prev within his grasp, and he possessed too little of either shame,
rompuii' lion or leer to be induced by her remonstrances to re*
linqitisb it.
When old Sullivan teturned and ascertained that his money was
untouched, he at first gave way to the griefs which he really felt
for the loss of his daughter's society. By degrees however he be
came reconciled to it and made up his mind to bear with her
absence sooner than receive either her or him. Meara gave out
through the village that they were privately married, and she was
unwilling to ciiculate her own shame by contradicting the report.
Still as the name of the priest who performed the ceremony was
never stated, doubts were afloat among the neighbours which once
or twice came bitterly to Norah 's ears. In addition to this trouble
she was Just beginning to experience the sad consequences of her
union with a man of his reprobate mind. Scarcely had four months
elapsed ere he exhibited unequivocal signs of indifference, nay at
times, of dislike. Often he would absent himself liom her during
the night and on his return avoid any allusion to the cause of her
tears and the state of her health. J.attirlv she had ceased to press
for a mnmnge thro' fear ol rousing his anger; and by every gentle
end affectionate means in her powei she strove to make hi* horn*

34

lappy to him at least ; hnt her attentions were usually received

villi coldness il noi with rudeness; and sometimes she was even
repelled with insult.
Meara had been asoeiated with a party during the insurrection
of the previous winter who had commuted a robbery on a rich
Arid respectable resident on the lands ol lonislymon in the Comi
ty ol Clare. One ol the party bad been seized and was commit
ted to goal to stand his trial m ihe ensuing assizes. To prevent
his turning King's evidence and thus beiiuying his party, it was
necessary to hold up to his view -ihe piospecl of support Iroin his
friends ; at the same lime lhat should Ik- ! convicted or turn traitor,
both Meaia and Slwiie lime should fly without delay. To accom
plish these purposes, inuiirv wrs necssarv, and alter many and deep
councils between the two villains, a plan was laid for robbing
Noruii's father. To this however there were many difficulties. He
always kept bis money concealed in a place known only to Norah
and hiiusell. Her assistance was therefore indispensable. Meara
knew that to attempt to force or terrify her wouid be useless ai:d
be had acted with too much unkiudness lately to rely much upon
her afFcctiou for him.
However his deep and depraved mind soon found a means. It
was agreed on between him and Sullivan that if he cou'd prevail
on her to assist in the robbery, the latter should take her
in a boat across the river and disposing of her in the best way he
could, meet his accomplice at Crattoe wood wheie he should receive bis
share ol the spoil. To this Sullivan consented lot two reasons ; one was
the opportunity which it aflonled him of being revenged on Norah,
and the other was the possession of the money he so long coveted.
As for Meara, provided that he was delivered from her and ob
tained the means of escape out of the country, he loll fully satisfied.
' He accordingly changed his manner towards his Mistress cauti
ously yet quickly ; returning home ptint-inalh at night and appear
ing to enjoy in her society the pleasure which he formerly profes
sed, he soon perceived its cheering effects upon her. She was now
decidedly pregnant, and she hopd that this returning kindness on
liis part foreboded days of happiness.
One evening in September be returned liome earlier than usual
and appeared thoughtful. Alter Lea he returned to Norah and put
ting his arm round her neck as she sat beside him, he said,
" Norah, darling, I am afraid that your old father is likely to
get into trouble about that money of his."
" Why so, Ned ?" said she, truly alarmed for her parent.
" Why, the fact
three weeks how I
fact of my want of
to me. If we do

is, ilial T have hern planning in my mind these

could manage to have our wedding. But tha
money to pay lor it has been a sad hindrance
not manage the matter well and directly, it wili

35

do us more liarm than good, for it will only set their tongues going*
Now, Mr. McMaiioii of Bunrully bus promised 10 lei us have 11 at
his house, seeing 1 huve no place ol my own to bring yuu to,
out ol litis, hm I must not let him stand at a loss so i must huva
the money. Shone JSuie and 1 huve lieeii planning to gel (lift
money out ol the old man by tool means, as we cunuol by Ian,
and we Inid fixed on to-ni^ht lor the robbery, never telling you
any ihing about it. bin 1 have b. en thinking since thai J. ink is
such a devil wlun his blood is up, that il ihe old man should,
make nuy noise, be would ibiuk nothing of giving him a tup on
ihe head ; so Noruh what shall we do ?"
" Ob Ned, Ned, save my poor old father ! kill me, do any
Shiiiy wilh me, sooner iltun let blood be on bis grey hnirs ! I will
o any thing
' whisht may be I could gel the mouey ! HoW
much do you want, Ned ?"
" Ob, as to ibut, Norah ; it is not reckoning the money w*
could he ul the lime, we can restore him the difference afterwards !
" But how can 1 get at il ?"
"Why, we have arranged already to make our entrance; the only
thing was the risk of disturbing ihe old man ; if you come we
cun avoid that ; 1 will he back again in an hour and do you be
ready when J cull '. " and saying this the cold-blooded villain left
her belore she hud time well to collect ber thoughts.
J,iefi to herself, the current ol her thoughts nearly overwhelmed her.
Tlie conflict between duly to a parent whose cold-hearted neglect
had wounded her feelings to ihe quuk, yet whom she tendelly loved,
and ihe longing desire which she naturally fell lo be lawfully mar
ried, was desperate in the exueine.
Then she recurred to her
lover; to his returning kindness; and to the joy of being the mo
ther of Lis child in liiwlul wedlock. The money will be taken by
force if not by quietness, and is il nut my duty lo save his life
if I can ? said she to hersell us she piclured to her mind the pro
ceeding belore her; besides Ned says that he ivill give bnck the
difference if he'll say nothing about it ! Oh father dear, il is not
this way I'd be now if yon had been the father lo me you ought!
hush ! said she drying up her kins, and preparing herself lor her
companion's arrival. He ariived at the appointed lime and met her,
altho' in kilence, yet wilh greater leuderucss than he had shewn lor
some lime.
" Thank you Rdmtind, and thank you galore for marrying your
own lond Norub ;" snid the simple hearted girl, throwing her urms
round his neck uiid kissing him wilh such tenderness and simpli
city thut the In .ii i even ol her seducer was for the momenl shaken
" Yes ! Noruh you shall be more happy after
you were !But come, 'lis late already. "

to-d.iy; ibun

ever

The night was dink and fine, and warm for die lime of ihe year.
llaie was uoi a breath stirriug and nothing was audible bcy.wd

f 3 ]
flieir own footstrps except (he distant biirkirg of some r.atcf.dog.
N 0111)1 having collected such little ai tide* h* she conceived | roper to
bring with her, she wrapped them closely under her arm in her cloak
*nd followed Menia in silence. Leaving the village. 10 theii righi, they
proceeded cautiously up the Glen until they Diet Shane time about
filly yoids from the duur.
" The top of the morning to you, Mre. Meara, said l:e approach
ing them; 'lis njjla proud I u:i> to see you so light mid early, J
hope you aren't afniid ma'm ; there's no danger in life ; not a taste,be repealed us she shrunk involuntarily tiuui his side, "we'll do it
quiet and easy and no harm to any one breathing !"
In the meantime Meara was carefully reconnoilenng the piemises;
and having whispered to Sullivan he turned lu Nurah and J usked in
what part of the house the money lay.
" He keeps it in a paitictilar spot under the inside thatch jnt
beyond the cup-board ; but none ol' )ou could rind it Lut uiysell !"
" Is he inside Jack P" said Meara.
"Aye is he! wait till I try if he's awake !" He then went over
to a particular part of the door uud guve three distinct laps with
an iruu nail, which were returned in less than as uiuuy seconds Iroui
inside with equal distinctness.
"In the name of Heaven, who's inside ?" cried the terrified Norah.
" Tis only Jemmy ma'm !" said Sullivan. "Sorra bit of harm ks'll
do the old hoy any how;" then in a loud whimper he cried "Jem !
Jem !"
Another gentle tap from within told that the natural was well up
to his lesson."Jim your sowl ! How 'cute he is Mr. Ned! Jim,
lilt the top lnlch ! easy noweasy boys! there! that's a good child!
No Ulullel', if 1 don't give you the money loi the marvels !" By
aegrees they heard bolt after bolt slide, and the door quietly opening shewed the poor hull-willed boy grinning with delight ai hit
success.
" Ould Duddy is as fasht ashleep as a shrout in a well! won't
you give me a hall-penny Caplain f"
"Now Norah! be quick!" said Meara to the poor girl who bad
almost fallen between fear and a sense of guilt. Suddenly
collecting her energies at the sound of his voice she rushed into tne
room, seized the slocking, brought it to biin, and faiuud ou the spot.
"Leave het to me! Leave her to me!" cried Meara seizing her
in bis arms, " mind the child and the door aud toliow me!"
While Sullivan was fixing the door and directing the boy where
to go tor the night, Meara hurried onward with his burden in his
arms and reached a spot wbeie lay a boat moored to the shore.
It was his intention to have left her in the boat and lelired, but the
awakened just as he arrived at the spot.

37

" Oh, Ned jewel, what have 1 done ! 1 have robbed my poor Far
ther of all lie Las on die living earib ! Blessed Virgin, why did I
ever live lo see this ni^hl l all, at ull ! Oh lorgive me and Lily
we, for il'ii I that am to Ue pitied this night !"
" Hiib Norah ! sure we will give him back some of it after
we're married !" leplied Meant " conic make haste and get into ilia
boat ;" he continued handing her into u.
" VVell, Ned, and arc not you coming too?" said she with a
voice tremendous with doubt and liar, as she saw her cousin who
hud arrived by this time shoving nil the bout limn its moorings.
"Ned, jewel; sure you are not going to leave me? Ned, Kdniunil, Mr. Mcara! Kol the lo\e ol God lor the love of the
biased Virgin, don't leave uie in this ua\ ! Sure, did 1 not do
eveiy thing you nsked mc, lor you! I will live and die lor you
and don't leave me'. Your own Norah; your own luithlul Noruh!
I'ut me ashore Mr. Suilivuu put me ashore I say again ;"
screamed the girl. "I'ut me ashore 1 tell you, or I'll throw my
self into the sea !"
"I will, sure enough!" said Sullivan! "but not awhile, avick !**
and so saying he pulled (be boat into deep water. Meaia had by
th.s lime retired out of sight, and NoibIi perceived that her Cousin
was acting uicording to some preconcerted plan. More thuti ever
uncertain ol her seducei's llitenlioiiS, she trembled violently as she
found heisell deserted by him, and lelt lo (he mercy of the man
whom she haled and dreaded most. 'J he morning was just beginniug lo disuibuie its j;rey liglu ihro* the htauns; uiid the biatk
bird and thrush were awakening the grove ol LWchinounl with their
song, Sullivan was silent and dark, sullenly and lazily pulling his
ouis, ever and anon looking uluuiul hiui as II he couid discover
among the unruffled waters a spot suited to bis purpose, lie Lad
now reached the middle ol tbe river and was slowly stretching to
bis obis, watched with an inlcmness bordering on madness by his
terrified companion. He stopped for a moment, and then the note*
ol u Keul bugle from the shore broke the stillness of the morning.
Having wailed for a moment the sound was repealed, when slipping
bis oars, he stripp'd off' his coat as it he expected some resistance
in his work.
"What aie you going to do, Jack?" said Noiah, scarcely daring
to speak above her breath, and yet with ihr gentleness that would
have sollened any heari but that of a wicked aiau.
" I may as well tell you at once '." said be, rousing himself. " You
ee, Mr. Ned is tired of you all out so he seut you here to let
we have my share of you before you go where jou'll see neither
of u* any more; so the less you say about it, the better !"

38

"Oh mercy ! mrrcy ! for (lie love of Heaven!" screamed (he

pir. ;ii tlie very pitch ol Iut voice, which at the same moment im
milled wilh Hie sounds of a bugle troni (he shore, ".lack de*ir
.la.k ivon'l you shew me mercy! won't you sure you wotild'ttl
kill me, and [ h-re alone wilh you! Shane, darling shew mercy to,
y<"ir own poor Cousin! remeinWi my child Jack I For (he love
ul the Virgin she*- ni-rcy to my child at all events! Yon dureu'l
you shan't 1 tell!" She screamed struggling wilh all (he en. r,
gies ol desperation, and terror. A violent contest took place, in
which mire than once 'the b,>al was nearly upset, and during wlrch
th>! cries of the wretched gill lor lllercv Were heard confused ivith
ill.- sound of the bugle as he lore. I>nt it was not of long dnralion; fi:ili-.g that the struggle 11114*111 b-- protracted to a dangerous
length, .Sullivan hv ;i *i:igle blow brake her left arm; and a
second on her forehead stretched lier almost se.isel.Ss in ll^e bottom,
ol ihe b.jat, a resistless pry 10 his brutal luat.
While Nov ih by overwhelmed wilh horror, shame and alarm,
ihe viil.iiii, retiring from her die* from Ins pocket a rope on whi-'b
vhs a running noose, and having fastened one end of it lo a large
stone which he had brought with him for ibe purpose, be draggecj
it tow wis her, mid deliberately ran the knot over the girl's head,
fcht- nave a st'irl and slight shudd.-r, as her lemming energies told,
lier of her late; then closing hei eyes, she allowed herself unresistiny'v to lie lilted up and plunged headlor.g into her watery grave.
A dijhl hoiling ol the water as it settlej over her, and a few
bubbles which ascended from the deplhs bvut-nih told that a feeble
struggle had ushered her soul into eternity. The wave rolled mi
ami in another minute all traces of Xorah Sullivan had vanished
from the earth I

Grirjtnat CgrrcsponBencr,

TO THE EDITOR OF THE CEYLON MAQA2INE.

Six, I send you herettilh' an extract from a small Pamphlet published in

London about leu years since, ou the valuable pit.peiaies possessed by that
t,ileudid pnlm the Cocoa-nut tree written by a member at' the LinnnoMi and
Horticultural Societies, many years a resident in the Island of Ceylon, bat
Do 11*1110 giveu. It pLipuits to at un interesting traditional accuuui of iu
i.riginol discovery by a Fringe of the interior of Ibeir Island.
B. V- C.

to

TRADITION RESPECTING THE COCOA NUT TREE.

About one-and-half mile from Belligam, a finning hamlet on the south-east

of Ceylon, between ihe lawn* of dalle and
distance from each) completely
Cocoa-nut

Mum (being seventeen miles

concealed from view by the density of tho

groves, a larve rock of granite displays the gigantic figure of n

former Prince Culled Kallah Rajah; it la about eighteen feet high sculptured
in the solid rock.

This Rajah or Sovereign Prince, became suddenly afflicted

with a cutaneous

disease which covered him with

Irom head to
resorted

to

a white scaly

substance

foot, depriving him of human appearance, and sacrifices were

by his people,

to

appease

4tip| osed to he the author of the

the

anger

Rajah's sufferings.

of

the greot

demon

He objected to

assist

at any diabolical sacrifices, but preferred to submit to the decrees of the

Superior power ; but with doe humility paid his accustomed devotions and offered
sweet smelling flowers according to the religion of Iludhoo, atid after repeating a
long prayer, he fell into a sound sleep, which
his trnnce

he

beheld a large expanse

lasted several days.

of water, which he found

Durin!
salt and

nauseous, although of a fine green color, having on its margin immense groves
of trees of a rare kind, such as he hud never seen before, instead of branches
as oiher trees had, a tuft of large leaves, as they then

appeared to him,

erowned the lofly summit of each, on an immense height, but was totally divested
of branches.

The Kotlah Rajah, after his trance, felt deeply impressed with his

dream, and he renewed his oblations arid prayers, in hopes of a happy result
A Cohra <le Vapella the sacred snake of (he Budhisis, shortly after appioached
and having

expanded

its

speckled

masked

hood, raised its head a cubit

above the ground, and observed steadily the Rajah

for some moments, when

the animal extended its blue forked tonjoe and thrice bowing its head, lapped
water from the leaf, which served the Rajah for his use, after which the snake
retired to
the

the jungle.

Prince grew

very

This was
ill,

a conviction

Bnanha* During this sleep, the former vision

appearance of an aged man It
Bodhoo, who thus

of Budhon'a favor.

Again

only reposing under the shelter of the shady

appeared with the additional

was Staha Stidora, the

accosted the Rajah : " From

father of the god

ignorance of the sacredness

of the ground over which gnd's favorite tree casts its shade, thou didst omit
the respect due to it from all created beings, its deeply pointed leaf, distin
guished it above all other trees as sacred to Budhoo, and under another tree of the
ssine heavenly character thou now liist a mass of sores and ulcers, which
the impurity of the red water within the large and small rivers of thy body,
has, at the deity's command, brought upon thee externally, but since the kind
snake, the shelterer of the god Budhoo hilst on earth, has partaken of thy drink,
i tbou wilt derive health and long life, by obeying my commands.
'.

ficm Rvltgiota.

In that

[ 40 1
eHreetion," pointing tomth, " lies thy remedy ; a hundred hoars Journey will bring
thee to those trees,

which thou shall gee in

reality, and taste their fruit t

thy benefit, but on the top only it is to he produced, by

fire it must he

ubluined, the inside partly cf transparent liquid, partly of innocent food, must
be thy sole diet till thrice the great moon (Maha Handah) has given and
refused ht-r light, thy disease will then leave thee, and thon wilt be clean again,
but forget not with the restoration of thy health, sacrifice* nf sweet flower*
and fruits wiih much

thanksgiving to that great Brahma of all Cruhmas,

to whom all other gods and even

demons pay

homage, thro' whose mercy

ami forgiveness, thy bodily vigour will be restored."

A sonnd, as of ten thousand

loin toius struck at once, seemed to the delighted Rajah as a manifestation of the
messenger's authority.

This sound continued for some hours after he awoke.

than considered it his duty to obey commands so mysteriously conveyed

summoned

his

immediate

followers

from

their various

He

Having

It roporary resting

places, and having repeated to them the divine prophecy, and made a propthV
story ofierinif as before under the Mined tree, he aud bis retinue proceeded
in a direct course thro' rivers and forests, southward.
Journey

had been performed

When a hundred hours'

without any perceptible fatigue to himself or

atteudants, he found the anticipated view of that boundless expanse of blm

water, which had appeared in his dreams, and on its margin immense grove*
f trees with tufts of leaves (for the first time perceived to be large branrhe*)
which gratified his
sheltered

from

the.

astonished but delighted sight.

vertical sun

Beneath these branches

hung large clusters nf fruit, much larger

than he had ever seen in his own country, of green, yellow, and red colors,
and others apparently black.
kt

wild

beasts, leopards,

There

were no human

beings on

bears, storks and elephants

the coast,

innumerable,

elimh the encoannt tree was then unknown, and considered beyond the power
f mortal man, hut as fire had been pointed out as the means of obtaining
the frnit, the followers were immediately employed to kindle a flame ; scarcely
had

an

hour elapsed, when

stupendous

earth with a tremendous crash, when

crept out

creatures innumerable ;

from

large

tree came prostrate

its capacious and

with lb*

verdant erst

blue scorpions, brown

and yellow

centipedes, snakes of various hues from the polonga to the less dreaded ear
snake, various colored beetles, tarantulas and spiders of all sorts.

The novel

fruit was at first opened with some difficulty, and the Rajah was astonished
to observe that the stately trees seemed to thrive best

where any ordinary

ones could not survive the least sprinkling of the briny spray.
Mute with astonishment at the. vast expanse of ocean which he then fee
the first time approached, the Rajah bent to taste the liquid element and h*
tumid it as prognosticated, aud he had a full belief that "ere the great moan
bad thrice given and refused her light" that he would be cleansed from hi*
foul distemper.

Tbe Rajah and followers continued to lit* on the prescribed

[ 41

diet, for indeed from necessity, as there were no other fruit* to he fouwl
riear the ocan. The prescribed time rolled on, the Rajah gradually lost
the white and scaly skin, which had enveloped him like the armour of
the great ant eater of the interior (the Negombo Devil) and he was now con
vinced of the approach of his recovery. After again performing the sacred
duties pointed out to him in his vision on the first stone which appear?!
durable an 1 out of the reach of the sea, in token of his gratitude he caused
to be carved on the granite roek, a tigantlc statue of himself, remarking
that its g"reat height would shew the wonderful recovery he had experienced
being a very little roan in stature, and as a memorial of the .blessing of
God, to be handed down to millions then tinhorn. Numerous families frosn
the high country, (Kandiah signifying mountainous) soon emigrated to the
sea coast, for the Rajah made it an imperious doty to give publicity to th
virtues of the fruit of the coco'annt tree, thereby giving a general knowledge)
of that splendid production, whilst the conviction of its transcendent utility,
pointed out its propagation as a never failing source of individual advantage
and of progressive national prosperity.

THE

BAWALt TANK.

The following 'account of this celebrated Tank has Wen extracted

from the reports made by my late father Gabriel Casie Chitty Modeliaf
and Mr, Rmnier Van Onnster. District Surveyor of Calpentyn un
der date the 23.1 of July 1832.
. The Bawaly Tank is situated ahottt 5 miles east of Pallikandel,
in that portion of the Chilaw District designated Pomparippo Pat.
too. It is a work of considerable antiquity and appears to have)
been built by the then sovereigns of the country for the pur
pose of securing a sufficient quantity of water to facilitate the
cultivation of the whole of the low lands, which lie to the rinitli
of the Pompurippo river; hut is now quite out of repair and over
grown with jungle. It is nearly surrounded hy a chain of small
hills; but on the west and south sides where nature dries not af
ford a burner, an embankment, composed of clay, has been formed
to the length of three and one sixth part of a mile. The hollow
pronnd attached to the Tapk is about two miles in breadth from
the cnrve of the bank to the eastward but when it is full of wate*"
it might otobably extend to half a mile more over the elevated
parts. The perpendicular height of the bank must at one time
have been verv considerable , but at present it is, however, not
equal in all places, and in the highest part measures .only fifteen
feet A stream called Vaivittan Aar, which flows from the Kandyan

t tt 1
ieonntry during the rainy season, has forced a passage through the
bunk on the west side, and which, together with (he disordered
state of the sluices, has contributed to ruin the Tank. On the south
tide of the Tank is the river, called Pomparippo, and on the west
a branch of the same, called Ootamadoo Aar. Between the Tank
and the Pompurippo river there is a tract of high ground containIn g an extent of about 380 acres, which is well adapted for planting
Cocoanut, Areka and Jack trees, and at a small distance to the
eastward are found the remains of some ancient buildings consist
ing as usual of a great number of black granite pillars and frag
ments of brick.
The Tank has three large breaks and before they are repaired
it would be necessary to throw up a dam across lite Ooloomadoo
Aar in order to prevent its communication with the Pomparippo
river, and likewise to block up the passage of the Vaivittan Aar.
Three sluices are required to be built and as the height of the bank
has become much worn out by the treading of wild animals it
should be heighled five feet in the elevated parts and ten in the
lowest that the whole may bear a level of twenty feet and be
capable of confining within its compass seventeen feet of water.
The expenses required for the repairs of the Tank are estimated
at 5,380 Is. 3d.
There is every reason to believe, that under the government of
the Tamil sovereigns, the country about Pomparippo overflew with
inhabitants, who had directed their attention exclusively to agriculture
and, that it was since the destruction of the Bawaly Tank, it becain'j deserted and allowed to be overgrown with forests, which
now form the undisturbed domain of elephants and other wild ani
mals. Out of the many hundred villages irrigated by this Tank,
Pallikandel, Pomparippo, Naseevenkolam, Moolakandel and KallaIcandel are the only ones cultivated at present but that also to *
very inconsiderable extent by means of the small Tanks attached
to then], and the annual produce does not average more than 3 ot
41)00 Parmhs, If the Tank in question Were repaired the who'*
of the junsjle tracts may be reclaimed and an extent of 30.000
Parrahs can be cultivated (viz. 20,000 for the Maha and 10,000
for the Yalla harvest), the general produce of which will average
it the minimum 3,00000 Parrahs but it should be remarked, thai
in order to effect this desirable object a great number of husband'
tnen is necessary, at least 1,500, but the present uumber of inhabitants in the whole of the Pomparippo Pattoo including wo
men aud children does not exceed 500.

8. C. C.

2RNMTIIE YEAR 1739-40 to 1760-61, INCLUSIVE.

4mstertl& Lef, Esq )
THE S".

1
her
'- On Cinil
i. itamoHAue.

94
66
4:.
til
44
47
03
74
08
14
bo
5!
1 :.
8*
92
l.(.
28
62
;3
29
19
08

i! 2.79167
46,31131
106,24)86
86,( "ivti
104, 15.34
! 2,32473
81.. 7, IT
88,61,26
! 8.8 15! (i
6i,9999
73,774 1 I
52,fc3j 1 8
82,63*62
<0,t6S8
91,67*34
116,67 156
116,86-43
II 2,(, Ii47
7o,i.l --L.t
89,81 (33
9I.2IJ69
1I9,42|8

Ob' 1,9557 17,7

1
2 ' P8.896 68

Sundry
Juju's.

92,669
94,302
147,959
147,016!
!6,(20
144,(00
119,802
It 6,! 37
113,531
78,8M>
65,531
II 1,bC 5
(.4,1 -II
08,142
67,069
138,607
11 4,1 60
130,842
64,832
75,660
116.789
79,497 j

Tear.

17-3940
17-40 41
17 41-42
17 42 43
17- 43 44
17-44-45
17- 45 4(i
17 4647
17-47 48
17-4849
17-49-50
1750 61
1751-62
17-52-53
17 .:3-54
17 54 65
17-55 66
17- 66 57
17 67-58
17-68-69
17 69 60
17 6(1 61

2,254,099 i lolal

Total of
Expendi
ture.

1,174,903
1,125,142
1,148,262
1,216,946
1,177,318
1,304,376
l,2l-b,763:
1,248,872'
1,169,764
1,136,117
1,214.696
I,2I0.4I6J
1,213,757
1,2b!,023
1,11)7,369
1,238,9(43
1 ,260.547
1 ,355,3081
1,094,686
1,(51,25
1,107,961I
1,298,24!)

Total of
J'rofls.

826,282
739,I70J
907,6471
885.6661

319,021
385,!)/ 1
240,61 I
33 1,31 a
321, 1W
386,52 1
1 13.3J2-

862,87 1
917,855
1,0! 3,361
8,187
1,267,(6!'
1,528,596 358,831
1,763,333 072,220
88,451
1,126,244
219,069
991,34::
326,125
987,632
87,050
1, 182,5"/ 947,41m
249,954
267.756
! 7 1,14',
260,766
98! ,7c ,
409,307
945,92t
44,880
1,049,78)
1 17,375
936,82;
II 1.601
996,368
581.673
713,676

1 26,41 4 129] 22,66! 10

.Yearly lix I
1
109.4W ' penrilltire. I 1,200B42|
J

Exeesn
Erects
"1
Eufieildiof
llcieittte. tare.

1,027701

994,23! 4,798964;

901,239
3,804724

earl; avert. 1,027,700 or i. 85,642

Annual Jeficil

172,942 cr 14,412

44

&%t atf)er*r.
' As three old abodes of the civic
aristocracy since the westward migra
tion "I Iheir former proprietors are now
rapidly disappearing, ii may nol be
nnnM.niMiiig to give a brief desrrip.
linn of the h.inse in question, to the
court. van! nf which the treat gatvs
of a double. I'orle t'ocherp kiive entrance
from a :i r. urcrt without any claims
to architectural l.canty, the plain brick
edifice had nevertheless, an air of
grandeur from its extent, its solidity,
and its all-defying seclusion, even in
the heart of the city; for when the
groat gates were closed, it was com
pletely insulated, nod might almost have
8tn I
seig
The principal portal
opened upon a hall sixty or seventy
feet long terminating in a large glass
door, through which might be seen
the lofty trees of the garden beyond.
From the middle of the hall you as
cend the principal stairs, terminating
on the fist Hon in a spacious picture
gallery, onidii inted at the time in
question by paintings of the Flemish
masier!<, and communicating with a
suite of numerous and handsome rooms,
'the garden, which might be turned
extensive, t-olisidering its situation, was
hounded by an elevated terrace, ascended by a Hight of stone steps and
shaded by a row of venerable lime
trees. At one rnil of the termer stood
a handsome summer house, paved with
coloured marble; an! beneath this,
having an entrance door from the garden
below, was a grotto, studded all over
with shells, and decorated with two
stone ( upid's perched on the edge of
a shell. shaped basin, from the centre
of which a mimic jet d'ean threw up
slender column of water.
This may
read like the description of a most
cocknregfied Hus in urbe ; but its real
beauty when glowing with the freshness
of spring, and the surprise of being
ashered into such a green, spacious,
ami quiet seclusion from the noise
and bustle of the surrounding city, ef
fectually lifted it out of any common
place or vulgar associations.
Alas !
for the deserted mansions ol the civic
maenates! After an interval of many
years, this well remembered spot ws
lately yisited by tho writers. EJjeu t

quantum mntatus'! The northern Porte

where was enclosed and converted
into a courting-hoase ; the principal
entrance was blocked up ; the grand
staircase had b.-en pulled down to maka
space for new rooms; the whole bail lii)g was parcelled out into countinghouses and small apartments ; the
beautiful lime-trees had disappeared ;
the terrace and garden were, covered '
with warehouse an.l out buildings; iba '
hustle of clerks and porters, and the
creaking of cranes, were substituted for
the stilly hum alluded to in the text.'
It was a melancholy scene, especially
as it served to recal the former occu
pants, who, like the glorv of the man
sion, had now passed away for ever.'
TAe Jlfomi/ett .Witn,
ANKCDOTE

KaoM

THR PbuRTAN.

sage was asked " what is the best time

to dine?" He replied, "For the rich)
man, when he is hungry ; for the poor
when he can gel it."
A foolish muezzin was observed in
the desert calling to prayer and then
running to a distance and listening.
Some one asked him what he waa
about. He replied, "People tell me
that my voice sounds best at a dis-tancr, and I am trying to judge for
myself whether they are right." Aris
totle met a handsome vouth in the'
street ami asked him some questions
to which he returned silly answers.'
" That is a goodlv building," said the
philosopher, "if it were inhabited."
Managfbs and AriTFioi,._-Of some
hundreds of pieces sent promiscuous
hv unknown writers to the manager,
during my appearance in that capacity,
there was but one deemed fit for re
presentation ; and amongst those sub.
mitted hy men of note many were
found fraught with danger, and dis
missed accordingly. As one instance
among the various others to which he
is subjected hv candidates for stage
honours, may he mentiond this ancdnte. A tragedy of nearly 600 pages
written by an author totally unknown,
and likely ever to remain so, wa. sent
me by one particular friend of mine,
and strongly recommended by three
other*, The first was a moonlight scene,

46 ]

and in the opening solilc quy tbrreot the

l:t it , gazing on ihe unclouded elory
of 1 ir.ua, accused her, despite her
FJen'iv ond alleged chastity, of inlrif nine (with whnna can the reader ima
g)i i 7) with the " Man in the Moon."
1 mention this little circumstance merely
to designate the difficult position of a
Homager in only one department of
Iris vocation, for, owing to my rejection
of tins pyramid, one of the h it ntla in
question has never spoken to me since.
Hoik,- The inly fountain in the
Wilderness of life, nbere man drinks
of water totally unmixed with bitter
ness, is that which gushes for him
ifl the calm aud shady recess of domestic
life. Pleasures may heat the heart
with artificial excitement, ambition may
delude it with its (.olden dreams, wai
niay eradicate its fine fibres, and di
minish its sensitiveness, but it is only
domestic love that can reuder it truly
nappy.
THE SON TO HIS MOTHER.
BY SAMUEL L"YE.<.

There was a. place In childhood that I re[member well,

And there, a voice of sweetest lone, bright
[fairytales did tell ;
And gentle words and food embrace were
[giveu with joy to me,
When I was in that happy 'place, upon
[my mother's knee.
When fairy tales were ended, " Good
[night ! she softly Said,
A:v\ kiss'd and laid me down to sleep,
[within my liny bed ;
And holy words she taught me there
[methinks I yet can see
Her angel eyes, as close I knelt, beside
[my mother's knee.
In the sickness of my childhood, the perils
[of my prime,
The sorrows of my riper years: the cares
[of ev'ry time ;
When doubt or danger weigh'd me down,
[then pleading all for me,
It was a fervent prayer to Heaven that
[bent my mother's knee.
And can I this remember, and e'er forget
[to prove
The glow of holy gratitude the fulness
[of my lore?
When then art feeble, mother, come rest
[thy aim on me.
And let thy cherish 'd child support the
[aged mother's knee.

It was t heantinl sentiment of oe>

whom her lord proposed Ic put away.
" (jive me, then, back," said kbe, "Ibal
which I btought to you."
And tbe
man answered in his rul ar coarse
ness of soal, '' Yt'iir fortune 1 shall
return to \ou." " I thought not of
fortune," said the lady ; "give me bark
my real wealth give me hack :oy beauty
and my youth give we bat k tbe vir
ginity of soul give me ba*k tbe rheerfel
mind, and tbe heart that had never
been disappointed." JHii-rur.
Simple (irefoiithi Rheumatism.
I'oil a small pot full of potatoes, and
bathe the parts affected witb the water
in which the potatoes weie boiled, as
hot as it can be applied, immediately
before getting into bed. Toe | ains will
be removed, or at least pre .y allevi
ated, by the next mm mug. Some of
the most fthsliualu rheumatic paius have
been cored by one application ofkthB
novel and simple remedy.
A vekt loko mohi. "Nottingham
House used formerly to be in *sad
disrepair, and the rate proprietor was
overheard once, when a visitor unex
pectedly arrived, calling loudly to bis
servant, ' Bring be a fork to open tb
drawing-rooui door!' Many of the win
dows were at that time built tip; anil
a clergyman who slept there one night
previous to preaching in the parish
church, got tip next i> ruing and opened
his shutters, but seeing no light, he
retired to bed, wondering much what
had disturbed him so early. Unable
to sleep, be watched iuipatieutly fur
the first glimpse of dawn, thinking that
certainly a sleepless night was a very,
tedious* affair, when at length ibe clerk
rushed into his room, saying that the
whole congregation were assembled in
their pews, aud had watted impatiently
for some time.
Tbe Effects of Example. Sam.
Slick says, " Whenever a fellow is too
lacy to work, he gels a licenct
slicks his mime ovir the doorcall*
it a tavern and, nine chances or ten,
but he makes the whole neighbourhood
as lazy and worthless as himself."
Reciprocity." Will you lend father
your newspaper, Sir ? he only wants to
"read it?" " Yes, my boy and ask him
to lend me bis dinner1 only just waul
to eat it?"

46

Extracts from fifrfeWeala.

Eaelt HisTonv of P,ipib. In Hint
ing of printing v 1 . 1 1 . reference should
fce made lo Ibe history of paper, hut
out rentiers are probably loo familiar
wilh all lliut is kui'un of the papyrus
ot the Egyptians, one of the most an
cient substitutes ou record* arid the
gradual improvements in various coun
tries clown to the present day, to need
nur giving tnoie than a passing al
lusion to il ; anil to neat this branch
worthily, would require a sepurate
re.ilise. Such of our readers us re
quire mre information respecting this
subject may hav^ recourse. u a far
better source in Sir J. O. Wilkinson's
admirable work 011 the " Manner and
ustonis of the Ancient Egyptians.''
Neither is it requisite to dwell on the
shoulder blades of sheep, on which
the early Arabs engraved their roninntic effusions. The papyrus paper, from
Egypt, waa also in use amougst them,
until the introduction of parchment
250 years before our own era, a rualerial for which we are indebted to
the ambition of Eutnenes, who wish
ing to possess a more splendid library
than that at Alexandria, was Irustra
ted in his endeavours by the jealous
efforts of the Ptolemies, and this cir
cumstaure led 10 the invention and
employment of a substitute.
Parchment held its ground until the
Use of it was in some measure super
seded, by the discovery of the me
thod of making paper from cotton mid
eilk, called carta hbmbzeina, and is
supposed to have been known in the
beginning of the twelfth century. It
derived its appellation of carta DamnsiFDa from having been imrodured
into Spain from Syria, 'i'ho i hinese
were acquainted with the art of ma
king paper in great perfection from
various vegetable substances as early
as A. I). 95, and Gibbon tells ns
" from credible testimony, that paper
was 61st imported from i hiua In
Satnoraind A. H. 30 (A. D. rjt2)
and invented, or lather inlruuuced
at Mecca A. H. 88, (A. D.710.)"
The period at which linen paper
was first used has not been accurately
ascertained ; but, apparently it was
not prior to the eleventh century.
The Moors introduced it into Spain.
The earliest specimen pretturvtiu 1

it, is an Arabic version oflbe Alphalism of Hippocrntis, bearing date of

A. L>. I let); and 1 asiri in bis cata
logue of Arabic M S S in the library
01 the Kscurial, mokes especial nienlion that many of them *re written
"ii this kind of paper. It is ceitain,
however, that linen pBper was very;
rare in Europe until the fifteenth cen
tury, and it was not before lfi! (J that
writing or printing paper was mudo
in Li mil. ii l'it\ious to thai period
we hud our supplies of it from Hol
land and Fiance. A kind of mixed
paper, however, must have heen in
use long before, as a letter addressee!
to Henry III. by Kaymoud, son of
Hay no. ml, Mxlh fount of rnnlouse,
is still preserved in the lower of
London.
This, Ihctefnre, must have been be
tween the. years liilt? and 1S72.
1 be ( hinese pructised a kind :<(
printing at least 100 yeais ago, but
not wilh nioveal le types '1 Lis seems
to have heen somewhat similar to the
mode now in use umuugsi ns id print
ing wood cuts from blocks; and even
in Ibe present day. they still exicule
works in Ibis miu'iner, as well as by
moveable types. 'J he manner in which
thvy do it is by prepiumg a smooth
block of wood, gent rally from the peartree, tiring planed, the block is squared
to the size of two pages, the surface
is then nibbed over wilh size, generally made from boiled rice, winch
makes it perfectly smooth. J he cha
racters to be printed are written on
thin paper the size of Ike block,
whiili is glued on toil in an inverted
position, so that the characters can)
he perfectly seen through the back.
The inh ruieriiute pails are then cut
away with great skill, and the letters
are thus lell in relief, and finally the
paper is gently removed. 1 he. Chi
nese chronicles stale thai this mode
of printing was indented 11. I!. ('.
hut Una ph[,er was not manufactured
liil ') A. L>., so that piii.uiig was in
use 145 years before the invention of
paper. Previous to that time, they
used a kind of silk instead of paper.
This was certainly the nearest ap
proach of the modern mode. Foreign
QuarUrlii Htriew.

*
.

'

[47
THE

HOME SICK HEART.

(By John fHLrtfl )
How fondly loves the hmne-sick heart
To ponder oVr Ihi' past,
And pines Tor s-.-enrs tht-c far apart,
'hi dwell to die a( last.
Th"ti^h richer vales and balmier gales
Mv tempt the- wanderer's stay,
filfi heart will lonj be ammig
>oin sceues far, far away !

are not here which were cast away,

which were by far the greater number."*
BaCoN ON

PROPHECIES AND

PR C.v.'S-

Tics (1597).u My judgment is, that

that liiej unght all to be despised, ans"
ought to serve hut for winter talk by
the fire- side; though, when 1 say des
pised, 1 mean it as for belief, for other
wise the spreading or publishing of
them is in no sort to be despised, for
they have done much mischief, an 1
O ! memory ne'er can charm us so
I see many severe laws made to sup
As when it hid* npp ar
press them. That that hnth given thesa
The fields and friends of King ago,
The. distant and ibe dear!
[wear grace and credit consis^'lh in taree
Though clime and care may waste "ill things. KJrit, that men mark when
The frame to dull decay,
[chill, iin-v hit, but never mark when they
They never willj throu.b change and mi*s, as they do generally, ulso -f
dreams. '\ he second is, that probable
The hive fur, (dv away.
conjectures or obscure traditions mm?
Yet there for joy to come relies
times turn themselves into prophecies,
The heart wtien faint and low,
while the nature of man, which coTo have some areen vale glad our eyes, veteth divination, thinks it no peril to
In breeze upon our brow!
foretel that which indeed they 6>* but
Again beneath the sky to breathe
collect. The third and ln*t, which is
Where dawn'd life's chequer'd day,
the great nhe, is that almost all of
What thm^'his will hum what feelings them, heing infinite lii number, have
When home is far away !
[yearn, been impostors, and, by idle and
crafty brains, merely contrived and
MoNTAlQX R
ON
PROGNOSTICATION
(I5S0.) ** 1 see some who are mightily feigned after the event past."
CI- rh Bat.-Some experiments have
jjiven to study, pore and comment on
their aim miacs, aud produce them lor been making in France with cloth boats,
the
invention of a Sienr f.-clerc. A
authority when anv thin-; has fallen
out, and, indeed, it is hardly possible, flotilla of Ave of these little vessels,
but that in suing so much they must carrying twenty eight persons, passed,
sometimes stumble noon smite truth on Sunday lat, from the port of \,n
amidst an infinite number of lies. (Quis Rape-* to St. Cloud, without accident;
est enim qui loliiui diem juculans uou and the five wer taken hark by a
aliquaHdo coiliserit.' for who shoots single man, in a small hand c*ru
Daring the transit, they were several
all day at buls that does not some
times hit. the white.* 1 think never times brought tc the bank, and lifted
the better of them for some acciden out of the water, taken to uteres and
tal hits. There would be more cer put together again, and relaunched itl
tainty iu it if there were a rule aud less than five minutes. The weight
a truth always in. lying. Besides no does not exceed from 12 to 15 kili>body records their flimflams niid false, gramme*.
pro;uo-mo-*, forasmuch as they are in/ en'tnhlf Phvuulotiv. When the Al
fiuilo and common ; hut if they chop mighty clothed the earth with vege
upon one truth that carries a mighty tation, he made every species after its
report, as bein^ rare, incredible, and kind, with its seed in itself; anil this
prodigious.
So Diagir-ts, suruaim-d will remain true until the day* of oar
the Atheist, answered him in Samo- earth shall be numbered; and these
Ihrace, who showing him in the tem
six words, simple as they appear, con
ple the several offerings and stories in tain the verv essence of vegetable phyWe have all the species,
painting, of those who had escaped siohtgy.
shipwreck, said to him, ' Look you, created. " each after its kind," and
vh thinji the yods have no care of this puts us in possession of one ge*
human things ? what do you say to nernthin of the entire race of vegeta
so many pei-smis pre-ei ved from death bles. Again, the seed of every species
by their apei-ia! favour?' 'Why, I is "in itself," and this Involves Ihe suc
sa\," auavvtffvd hef 'that their pictures cession of generations.** Florist'* Journal.

48 ]

METEOROLiGAL JOURNAL KEPT ON THE HUNASGIRIA

RANGE OF MOUNTAINS, AT AN ELEVATION OF
NEARLY 3,000 FEET.

a an*e

"f
i r.er^ut

1 Rain
| ,

Fall Prevail
ing
of
luetics dew Winds.

PREVAILING WEATHEB.

Date 5a.ni 3,'.in >|>.u>

JUlli'

Frequent showers and squally.

70" I.50U

ligh. Variable

68

Do.

S.W.

O.i.

Do.

Fine anil cloudy day.

Fine a.m. showers P.M.

I. 1?

67* 73'
67 70

V. 18

66

73

70 !

B. 19

6-1

70

68

1,

Do.

Variable

s.so

67

/y

;i

I,

Oo.

N.E.

M.2I

65

7U

68

l,5lA

Oo.

Variable

Frequent showers aud squally.

r. 22

61

711

68

l,75t

Oo.

N.E.

Heavy rain with violent squalls.

w.23

64

lirf

67

2,

Do.

S.W.
S.W.

w.16

2,
-

Do.

weather.

Fine a.m. squall r.M.

Do. weather.

Fresh breeze.

Squally with heavy rain.

. 21

Si

09

66

2,

Do.

F. SS

61

6./

65

1 ,501.

Do.

S.W.

i:)

67

1,

Oo.

Variable

Frequent showers and squally.

Violent squalls and rain.

Do.

weather.

8. Sfi

63

S.27

63

18

66

1,500

Do.

Variable

M.28

63

69

67

2,

Do.

Do.

*. 29

63

69

67

2,

Do.

Variable

Squally with heavy rain.

w.30

62

63

68

2.

Do.

S.W.

Violent squalls and rain.

61

69

67

1,500

Do.

S.W.

Do.

weather.

July
T.

Squallv with haze and rain.

Violent squalls and rain.

r. 2

63

67

65

2,

Do.

Variable

s. 3

63

67

66

2,lli0

Do.

S.W.

6J

68

67

Do.

S.W.

More moderate with rain.

68

Do.

S.S.W.

Fine and cloudy weather.

S. 4

64

60

T. 6

61

69

68

w. 7

61

69

67

m. a

1,

Do,

Do.

1,

Do.

S.W.

Do. Variable

. 8

64

69

68

1,

. 9

65

71

69

-.500 Do.

s. 10

64

70

68

S.ll

61

71

69

M.12

61

70

68

Do.

S.W.

T. 13

61

7u

69

Do.

S.W.

69

Do. Variable

* 45

70

68

Max:

73

v'ill.

11

Total

liiu.

6i

w.14

61

71

Squalls with haze and rain.

Fine and cloudy weather.

Squally with rain.
Do.

weather.

S.W.

Cloudy with frequent showers

Do.

S.W.

Fine and cloudy day.

Do.

Do.

Do.

Do.

Do.

weather.

Strong winds and cloudy weather.

Do.

weather.

Cloudy with haze.

Do.

Strong winds,

weather.

31,850
I

t 49 ]
METEOROLOGICAL JOURNAL KEPT ON THE HUNASGIRIA.
range of Mountains. Continued.

Date

Range of
Thermo.

Rain [Fall Prevail

liig
if
10
6a.m3p.ui (iji ni I nclms dew wi a d.i

4ly
1
-i
r. 16 64 6i>" 68oi

FRKVAIUKO WEATHRB.

b. 17

.'ine aiitl oloudy weulher.

none Variab],
Heavy showers anil squally.
U<>.
"I, On.

S.IK

"V.-ta. '

M.lt

s- Ida.

T. *

Do.

S.W.

w. 21

Do.

Varlabh

T. 2:

Do.

S.W.
S.S.W.

S.W.

*. %

-,oi)00o.

s.s.w.

s. 21

-,30l Do.

S.W.

Do. S'lather.
Fine and cloudy weather,
louoy Willi haifl aiid strong winds.
Do. wenlher.
Jloudy with strong breeze,
loudy wilh light showers.
Ie'avy showers with strong winds.

Do. weather.
V- )o. I Villi abli
-> 1'ially with frequent showers.
S.W.
-,AK Do.
-,2H i 1,1. j Variabl i 'troiig winds with light rain,

fc.2.

T. 27
w.2fc

3,- On. I

T. 2!

I,- Do.

S.W.

viudlly wilh heavy rain,

F. 3

-, IHll Do.

Variablt equally wilh rain.

Do. weather.
S.W.

8. 3 1

-,28(i Do.

Variabli

.igtit showers with strong winds.

AlIRl
S.S.W.
S.W.

Heavy rain with squills.

k. 2

I,- Do.
3,- Do.

S.W.

Frequent showers wilh strong wind*.

T. 3

Do.

S.W.

Fine and cloudy day.

V. 4 64

Do.

S.W.

Fine and cloudy day.

T. 5 65

Do.

6 66

Do.

S.W.

Do.

S.S.W.

Cloudy with haze.

S.W.

Frequeut showers.

8. 1

s. 7 65
i
8. 8 64 . 68 ' 67

Frequent showers with haz*.

Do. weather.

I. 10 64

68 j 67

I, Do.
1, Do.
I Do.

IFine and cloudy day.

70 ; 68

Do.

S.W.

w. ll! 61

Do.

S.W,

Do. weather.

ll. 9: 64

T. 12 64

69 j 68

70

t. I3| 64

&J

B. 14 64

68

8. loj 66

G8

09

-,2o0 Do.
1,250JrDo.
66
69 I -,500 Do.
67

S.W.

Do. weather.

S.W.

Showers with strong winds.

S.S.W. Light showers with haze.

S.W.

Heavy showers and squally.

S.W.

Showeiv with stronu winds.

W. A.

COLOMBO:Pbijiisd at ibk Hkbald Passi.