our halting-place, we saw a tumulus, which was apparently of recent construction (within a year at most.) It would seem that some person of consideration among the natives had been buried in it, from the exterior marks of a form which had certainly been observed in the construction of the tomb and surrounding seats. The form of the whole was semicircular. Three rows of seats occupied one half, the grave and an outer row of seats the other; the seats formed segments of circles of fifty, forty-five, and forty feet each, and were formed by the soil being trenched up from between them. The centre part of the grave was about five feet high, and about nine long, forming an oblong pointed cone.

"I hope I shall not be considered as either wantonly disturbing the remains of the dead, or needlessly violating the religious rites of an harmless people, in having caused the tomb to be opened, that we might examine its interior construction. The whole outward form and appearance of the place was so totally different from that of any custom or ceremony in use by the natives on the Eastern coast, where the body is merely covered with a piece of bark, and buried in a grave about four feet deep, that we were induced to think that the manner of interring the body might also be different. On removing the soil from one end of the tumulus, and about two feet beneath the solid surface of the ground, we came to three or four layers of wood, lying across the grave, serving as an arch to bear the weight of the earthy cone or tomb above. On removing one end of those layers, sheet after sheet of dry bark was taken out, then dry grass and leaves in a perfect state of preservation, the wet or damp having apparently never penetrated even to the first covering of wood. We were obliged to suspend our operation for the night, as the corpse became extremely offensive to the smell, resolving to remove on the morrow all the earth from the top of the grave, and expose it for some time to the external air before we searched farther.

"July 30.-This morning we removed all the earth from the tomb and grave, and found the body deposited about four feet deep in an oval grave, four feet long, and from eighteen inches to two feet wide. The feet were bent quite up to the head, the arms having been placed between the thighs. The face

was downwards, the body being placed east and west, the head to the east *.

It had been very carefully wrapped in a great number of oppossum skins, the head bound round with the net usually worn by the natives, and also the girdle: it appeared after being enclosed in those skins to have been placed in a larger net, and then deposited in the manner before mentioned. The bones and head showed that they were the remains of a powerful tall man. The hair on the head was perfect, being long and black; the under part of the body was not totally decayed, giving us reason to think that he could not have been interred above six or eight months. Judging from his hair and teeth, he might have been between thirty and forty years of age to the west and north of the grave were two cypress-trees, distant between fifty and sixty feet; the sides towards the tomb were barked, and curious characters deeply cut upon them, in a manner which, considering the tools they possess, must have been a work of great labour and time. Having satisfied our curiosity, the whole was carefully re-interred, and restored as near as possible to the station in which it was found."

The termination of the researches on the Lachlan affords a good idea of the nature of the greater part of the country explored in that direction. Mr. Oxley relates it as follows:

"July 7.-At eight o'clock, taking with me three men, I proceeded to follow the course of the stream; I attempted in the first instance to keep away from the banks, but was soon obliged to join them, as the morasses extended outwards and intersected my proposed course in almost every direction. About three miles and a half from the tent, a large arm extended from the north bank to a considerable distance on that side; the banks continually getting lower, and before we had gone six miles it was evident that the channel of the stream was only the bed of a lagoon, the current now being imperceptible, with small gum trees growing in the middle. Three miles farther the morasses closed upon us, and rendered all farther progress impossible. The water was here stagnant. The large trees that used to be met with in such numbers

"Nay, Cadwal, we must lay his head to the east; my father has a reason for it." Cymbeline.

up the stream were entirely lost, a few diminutive gums being the only timber to be seen the height of the bank from the water-line was three feet six inches; and the marks of floods on the trunks of the trees rose to the height of four feet six inches, being about one foot above the level of the surrounding marshes. It would appear that the water is frequently stationary at that height for a considerable time, as long moss and other marks of stagnant waters were remaining on the trunks and roots of the trees, and on the long-leaved acacia, which was here a strong plant. There could not be above three feet water in this part of the lagoon, as small bushes and tufts of tea-grass were perceptible. The water was extremely muddy, and the odour arising from the banks and marshes was offensive in the extreme. There were only four different kinds of plants at this terminating point of our journey, viz. the small eucalyptus, the long-leaved acacia, the large tea-grass, and a new diæceous plant which covered the marshes, named polygonum junceum. It is possible that the bed of the lagoon might extend eight or ten miles farther, but I do not think it did, as the horizon was perfectly clear in all directions, a few bushes and acacia trees, marking the course of the lagoon, excepted.

"Had there been any hill or even small eminence within thirty or forty miles of me, they must now have been discovered, but there was not the least appearance of any such, and it was with infinite regret and pain that I was forced to come to the conclusion, that the interior of this vast country is a marsh, and uninhabitable. How near these marshes may approach the south-western coast, I know not; but I do not think that the range of high and dry land in that quarter extends back north-easterly for any great distance; it being known, that the coast from Cape Bernouilli to the head of Spencer's Gulf is sandy and destitute of water *.

* The view from the top of Mount Brown (in lat. 32. 30. 15. S. and lon. 138. 0.. E. head of Spencer's Gulf) was very extensive,

its elevation not being less than three thousand feet; but neither rivers nor lakes could

be perceived, nor any thing of the sea to the south-eastward. In almost every direction the eye traversed over an uninterruptedly flat woody country, the sole exceptions being the ridge of mountains, extending north and south, and the water of the gulf to the south-westward. Flinders' Voy. vol. I. p. 159.

"Perhaps there is no river, the history of which is known, that presents so remarkable a termination as the present; its course in a straight line from its source to its termination exceeds five hundred miles, and including its windings, it may fairly be calculated to run at least twelve hundred miles; during all which passage, through such a vast extent of country, it does not receive a single stream in addition to what it derives from its sources in the eastern mountains.

"I think it a probable conjecture that this river is the channel by which all the waters rising in those ranges of hills to the westward of Port Jackson, known by the name of the Blue Mountains, and which do not fall into the sea on the east coast, are conveyed to these immense inland marshes; its sinuous course causing it to overflow its banks on a much higher level than the present, and in consequence, forming those low wet levels which are in the very neighbourhood of the government depot. Its length of course is, in my opinion, the principal cause of our finding any thing like a stream for the last one hundred miles, as the immense body of water which must undoubtedly be at times collected in such a river must find a vent somewhere, but being spent during so long a course without any accession, the only wonder is, that even those waters should cause a current at so great a distance from their source; every thing however indicates, as before often observed, that in dry seasons the channel of the river is empty, or forms only a chain of ponds. It appears to have been a considerable length of time since the banks were overflowed, certainly not for the last year; and I think it probable they are not often so: the quantity of water must indeed be immense, and of long accumulation, in the upper marshes, before the whole of this vast country can be under water.'

The journal describes in the following terms the stoppage of the expedition on the Macquarie :

"July 3.-The main bed of the river waters spreading to the depth of a foot was much contracted, but very deep, the or eighteen inches over the banks, but all running on the same point of bearing. We met with considerable interruption from fallen timber, which in places nearly choked up the channel. After going about twenty miles, we lost, the land and trees: the channel of the river, which lay through reeds, and was

from one to three feet deep, ran northerly. This continued for three or four miles farther, when, although there had been no previous change in the breadth, depth, and rapidity of the stream for several miles, and I was sanguine in my expectations of soon entering the long sought for Australian sea, it all at once eluded our farther pursuit by spreading on every point from north-west to north-east, among the ocean of reeds which surrounded us, still running with the same rapidity as before. There was no channel whatever among those reeds, and the depth varied from three to five feet. This astonishing change (for I cannot call it a termination of the river) of course left me no alternative but to endeavour to return to some spot, on which we could effect a landing before dark. I estimated that during this day we had gone about twenty-four miles on nearly the same point of bearing as yesterday. To assert positively that we were on the margin of the lake or sea into which this great body of water is discharged, might reasonably be deemed a conclusion which has nothing but conjecture for its basis; but if an opinion may be permitted to be hazarded from actual appearances, mine is decidedly in favour of our being in the immediate vicinity of an inland sea, or lake,

most probably a shoal one, and gradually filling up by immense depositions from the higher lands, left by the waters which flow into it. It is most singular that the high-lands on this continent seem to be confined to the sea-coast, or not to extend to any great distance from it.".

The situation of Bathurst seems to be very favourable for a settlement, and will be much improved whenever a navigable communication can be effected between the Macquarie and the Hastings, so as to connect Bathurst with Port Macquarie. But it is in the rich picturesque and fertile country newly discovered, through which the noble stream, the Hastings, takes its course, that the most appropriate site for colonization is to be found. We are glad to perceive the active spirit of the Colonial department, and of Governor Macquarie, evinced in these transactions; and considering that the present discoveries comprise only a very small part of Australia, we entertain the hope that similar exertions will be rewarded with rich acquisition of territory; and that it will be made the interest of emigrants from Great Britain to settle in this extensive country, instead of increasing the strength of America.

WE rejoice to perceive that the good old passion of laughter is reviving. As our poetry grew deeper and more intense, it naturally lost, for a while, many of its lighter graces; and if broad and side-shaking mirth was not entirely excluded, the softer and more airy pleasantry seemed to have " 'spread its light wings" and departed. We are happy to perceive that it is now returning ;for, though we do not wish to see it again triumphant over the profound and passionate spirit of English literature, it may agreeably hold a subordinate station in our poetry. It is, at least, more to our taste than the heavy gloom of those works which we are daily importing from Germany, to render life sadder, and increase the burthen of the mystery of all this unimaginable world." The gay frivolities of fashion-the grace and splendour of artificial life—are, we think, as pleasant themes for a poet, or a reader, as the moody singularities of misanthropic spleen. The decrees of

We are,

the ladies, patronesses of Almack's, are, at least, as poetical as those of Fate. The whims of a lady, in the pride of beauty and of power, are as interesting as the caprices of a melancholy maniac. The sweet apparitions of the ball-room are as fair, and do their spiriting as gently, as the visionary shapes which have been called from the vasty deep of metaphysics to haunt and perplex us in the new German romances. therefore, grateful for this work-which tickles the fancy very delicately by its wit-introduces us to Almack's without the permission of its fair despots-and gives us to sip of the delights of Paris without danger to our morality or our purse. Its construction is not, however, very happy. The author addresses a lady, of no very dubious character, with an expostulation on her detaining his friend by her blandishments, from all the amusements befitting his rank and age; and thus introduces a succession of pictures of fashionable life. This mode of

stringing together his sketches is, for obvious reasons, in bad taste; but it is better managed than could be well expected. We shall select a few of the brightest and most vivacious passages for the amusement of our readers.

The following glimpse of Almack's, with the disappointments arising from the inflexibility of its fair Directors, is very lively and amusing:

O! Julia, could you now but creep
Incog into the room and peep,

Well might you triumph in the view
Of all he has resign'd for you!
Mark, how the married and the single
In yon gay groups delighted mingle!
Midst diamonds blazing, tapers beaming,
Midst Georges, stars, and crosses gleaming,
We gaze on beauty, catch the sound
Of music, and of mirth around;
And Discord feels her empire ended
At Almack's, or at least suspended.
Here is the only coalition
'Twixt Government and Opposition;
Here parties, dropping hostile notions,
Make, on their legs, the self-same motions,
Beauty each angry passion quenches,
And seats them on the self-same benches,
Where they uphold, without a schism,
The Patronesses' despotism;

The Whig, for female power and glory
As great a stickler as the Tory:
For, mortals, happy you may be
At Almack's, but you can't be free;
Bent both in body and in soul
To gentle, absolute control.

Yet though despotic, why should any call
Its wholesome exercise tyrannical ?
Unlike all tyrants since the flood,
They only mean their subjects' good.

What form is that, which looks so sinister?
Willis, their Excellencies' minister.—
See where in portly pride he stands
To execute their high commands;
Unmoved his heart, unbribed his hands.
See where the barrier he prepares
Just at the bottom of the stairs,

Midst fragrant flowers and shrubs exotic ;-
A man relentless and despotic
As he of Tunis, or Algiers,
Or any of their Grand Visiers.

Suppose the prize by hundreds miss'd
Is yours at last.-You're on the list.-
Your voucher's issued, duly signed;
But hold your ticket's left behind.
What's to be done? there's no admission.
In vain you flatter, scold, petition,
Feel your blood mounting like a rocket,
Fumble in vain in every pocket.

"The rule's so strict, I dare not stretch it,"
Cries Willis, "pray, my lord, go fetch it."
"Nonsense!" you cry, "so late at night-
"Surely you know me, sir, by sight."
"Excuse me-the committee sat
"This morning."-"Did they, what of that ?"
"An order given this very day,
"My lord, I dare not disobey."
"Your pardon."Further parley's vain;
So for your ticket, in the rain,
Breathless, you canter home again.

Thus cured (and can th' expense be less ?)
Are absence, and forgetfulness.

And say, do they abuse their powers
'Gainst ultra-fashionable hours →→
Here once you walked your midnight round
In vain, no creature could be found,
Save a few stragglers, in the vapours
From gazing at the walls and tapers.
Then not a dance could be begun,
Waltz, or quadrille, till after One ;
While, without music, friends, or books
Perchance, at home on tenter-hooks,
The least contended with the greatest
Who should come lounging in the latest.
But is not now the law, in letter
And spirit, altered for the better,
Since our fair Sovereigns' last. Ukase

Has peopled the enchanted place,

And forced the crowd, ere midnight strike,
To do the very thing they like;

All, with their other pleasures, gaining
Perhaps the greatest-of complaining.

What sounds were those?-0 earth and
heaven!

Heard you the chimes-half past eleven?
They tell, with iron tongue, your fate,
Unhappy lingerer, if you 're late.

Haste, while you may.-Behold! approaches
The last of yonder string of coaches;
Stern Willis, in a moment more,
Closes th' inexorable door,
And great the conjuror must be
Who can cry "Open, Sesame !"

So when a packet hurries over

From Calais, through the straits, to Dover,
Her sails all set to save her tide

And supper, on the other side;

Wishing the force of steam were lent her,
While luckier ships the harbour enter.
Just with her bowsprit on the town,
'Tis ebb,―the fatal flag's hauled down!
She sees, and sickening at the sight,
Lies to, or beats about all night.

Such is the rule, which none infringes.
The door one jot upon its hinges
Moves not. Once past the fatal hour,
Willis has no dispensing power.

Spite of persuasion, tears, or force,

"The law," he cries, "must take its course." And men may swear, and women pout, No matter, they are all shut out.

"Friend, I'm The Ministry,-give way !"
"Avaunt, Lord Viscount Castlereagh !
You're doubtless in the Commons' House
A mighty man, but here a mouse.
This evening there was no debate
Or business, and your lordship's late.
We show no favour, give no quarter
Here, to your ribbon, or your garter.
Here for a Congress no one cares,
Save that alone which sits up stairs."

Fair Worcester pleads with Wellington;
Valour with Beauty. "Hence, begone!
Perform elsewhere your destined parts,
One conquer kingdoms, t' other hearts.
My lord, you'll have enough to do;
Almack's is not like Waterloo.
Awhile lay by that wreath of laurels,
Cull'd in composing Europe's quarrels;
Secure, the war-whoop at her door,
In Britain's cause to gather more."-
For the first time in vain, his Grace
Sits down in form before the place,
Finds, let him shake it to the centre,
One fortress that he cannot enter,

Though he should offer on its borders
The sacrifice of half his orders.
The English Duke-the Spanish Lord-
The Prince of Flanders-drops his sword;
Compelled at last, ere break of day,
To raise the siege, and march away!
The following gives us a glance at the
French play:

If thus from Almack's he withdraws,
What but your witchcraft is the cause?
What but your spells-if now no more
The hero hurries, as before,

The self-same crowds, next night, to meet
For novelty, in Argyll-street.

Thither they run from space and ease
At Almack's, to secure a squeeze;
Taught by long practice, to a tittle,
How too much room endears too little.
There, in the midst of Perlet's acting,
(Reckon'd so easy and attracting)
Would he contrive that not a word
The Frenchman utter'd should be heard;
Sending all innocent away

Of sense or meaning in the play :
A practice somewhat rude, 'tis true,
Ev'n for the fashion; but he knew
How often there, with colour faded,
Dress rumpled and attention jaded,
A fair one will affect to listen,
And gaze with eyes that never glisten
Till Fancy paints what, after all,

Delights her most-the approaching ball.

Here is a very pleasant disquisition on the Cachemire shawls worn by the Parisian belles, in which we particularly relish the classical joke at the end :

Sprightly like her and debonair,

'Tis granted, are the Gallic fair:
Besides, to arm them, Chance has sent
A still more killing instrument,
A weapon from which none escapes,
Though proof against their eyes and shapes,
That Schal, or rather that Cachemire,
So Eastern, fanciful, and dear!

The difference 'twixt the two is curious;
Cachemire is real, Schal is spurious;

One's French or English, t' other Persian.-
Both were, till lately, our aversion,
Save in the winter, when design'd
As screens against the frost and wind.
But be it Cachemire,-be it Schal,
Genuine, or false, 'tis all in all.
Twill bribe a woman in a trice,
'Tis Fashion's touchstone, Virtue's price!
The sex's glory and delight,

Their thought by day, their dream by night!

In vain the Paris fair-one dresses;
Vain is the coral in her tresses,

Or on her neck.-To make her smart,
Nature in vain conspires with Art;
In vain the Loves and Graces mould-her,
Unless the Cachemire's web enfold her,
Or fling its all-subduing charm
In careless dangle from her arm:
With it she triumphs, though a fright
Or slattern, in her sex's spite;
But young or old, in frost or heat,
At home, or in the crowded street,
At opera, promenade, or trim ball,
Without it she's a tinkling cymbal.

You've reason for your fears;~tis granted.
Julia, these Cachemires are enchanted,
And could not thus have turn'd men's heads,
But for some witchery in their threads.
For ne'er did Fancy's widest scope
Imagine such an envelope.

In that impartial equalizer,

Most women of one shape and size are;
Each, huddled in her separate sack,
Alike in shoulders, neck, and back.

Say, Belles, why thus degrade your figure?
Why are these Cachemires thus of rigour ?*
"O they're so light, and soft, and warm!"
I own it, but is that the charm
Which tempts their zealous votaries most?
Or whence they come, and what they cost?
Make them at home, and let their price
Sink to their value,-in a trice
The owners from their limbs would tear 'em,
And ev❜n their maids would scorn to wear 'em.

You've heard, my dear, perhaps, that Juno
(She was a heathen goddess, you know,)
Once begg'd, to make it up with Jove,
Her girdle from the Queen of Love;

For he, who little cared about her,

Had learn'd to live whole weeks without her.
Scarce was it on, when lo! the spell

Succeeded, to a miracle.

This girdle was, perchance, in all
Its virtues like a modern Shawl.
Further, the cases don't agree,
And here must end my simile;
Since where to find (but this between us)
A Belle as liberal as Venus,
Who, for a single hour would lend
Her Cachemire to her dearest friend
And, dizening thus a fellow-charmer,
For pleasure or for conquest arm her!

But we must positively close our extracts, recommending the work to all who love light reading in summer weather, and who wish, in the suspension of town gaieties, to live over again their past enjoyments, or to anticipate those of next winter.

LAS-CASAS, the eloquent, the indefatigable defender of the Americans, lay stretched on his death-bed in his ninetieth year. For a long period preceding his demise, all his thoughts were directed towards the happiness of a bet

* De rigueur. NEW MONTHLY MAG.-No. 79.

ter world; and though now about to enter that world, he trembled on the brink of eternity. Conscious of the purity of his heart and the innocence of his life, he had encountered, without dismay, the angry glance of kings, and

+ From the German of Engel. VOL. XIV. X