won for him golden honours. Some four or five years ago, a match was made between Longmire, Wright, and Hawksworth, of Shap, to wrestle for the champion's belt of England. It was generally supposed that any one of those three-now that Jackson and Atkinson had retired, and Robley had left the country-could throw any man in England, exclusive of each member of the celebrated triumvirate; but it remained rather doubtful as to which of the three would turn out to be the veritable champion, as each had thrown the other several times on various occasions, and the matter had never been brought to a final issue. Popular opinion ran in favour of Longmire; and as both Wright and Hawksworth made such conditions as to disgust the hundred-belted hero of Windermere, he retired from the ring, and is now reposing on his laurels. Hawksworth and Wright gained little by this retirement, however. Ewebank, after wrestling up through many a well-contested ring, has frequently thrown them both; and, at this moment, it is generally supposed that he can throw either of them whenever he pleases.

But alas for human fame! The victor's wreath withers almost as fast as it is won. Another, and a still younger competitor has entered the arena; and Ewebank's laurels sit heavily on his brow. Jamieson, of Penrith, troubles Ewebank sorely. It is true that his successes with Wright are not so frequent as those of Ewebank; and yet, though Ewebank frequently throws Wright, and Jamieson is as frequently thrown by the latter, it is no less true that Ewebank has frequently been compelled to succumb to the prowess and skill of Jamieson, who is more than his equal in height, weight, and strength, and nearly his equal in skill and activity. Still, at "Flan," many wiseacres predicted that Jamieson would go down in the third or fourth round, and leave Ewebank to contest the final falls with Woodend, of Coniston, and Scott, of Carlisle; the former being a giant of forty-seven, and the latter being, perhaps, the most brilliant light-weight wrestler of the present day. Wright was absent from "Flan" on the present occasion, gaining an easy victory, it was said, at

Dumfries; and, therefore, everybody swore by Ewebank.

We ought to state that, at "Flan," the wrestlers are divided into three distinct classes, and the wrestling occupies two days. The lowest class is that of men who do not weigh more than nine and a-half stones. These are mostly youths; but the wrestling in this class is often of the highest order. The second class is that of men not weighing more than eleven stones; and here Scott, Davidson, and Ivison are generally victorious, though of these Scott has carried away the most prizes, and has more than once taken the chief prize, as the champion of the year, from men of all weights. At the time to which we refer, we attended only the wrestling for the chief prize and the champion's belt; and as the competitors, some two hundred in number, proceeded to divest themselves of their ordinary clothing, and appeared in their neat and tight-fitting wrestling habiliments, we venture to say that a finer set of men could not be seen anywhere in Europe. To talk of our physical degeneracy as a nation seemed an absurdity, in the presence of such powerful, active, and courageous young fellows as these, any one of whom would have been able to hurl any number of any foreign Imperial Guard to the ground with the utmost ease. The first round cleared off the inexperienced and the unskilful; and many a village notoriety had his honours shorn from his head at once, his friends and neighbours retiring with the conviction that, though he might be a Bayard in his own locality-sans peur et sans reproche-yet he was by no means fitted to contend for the prize, open to all England, in the wrestling-ring at "Flan." Of course, as one hundred men had fallen, only one hundred remained to compete for the prize, among whom we noticed many of the nine-and-a-half stone men, some of whom had had to contend against men weighing half as much more as themselves. Scott, in the second round, was pitted against another excellent wrestler belonging to his own class--the light-weights, or elevenstone men-and he threw his antagonist in masterly_style. In this round, the veteran, Isaac Woodend,

who was to carry off the champion's belt from "Flan," for this year. Although it was known that Jamieson had thrown Ewebank twice out of three times shortly before-a test universally adopted in the North in respect to the two last standers-yet it was widely supposed that the result of that match was quite exceptional, and that Jamieson would be compelled to go down before the greater skill and greater experience of Ewebank. Nevertheless, the moment that the men were in "holds," the intensest anxiety was manifested by the spectators. Not a word was uttered. Men, long used to spectacles of this character, seemed to hush their very breath, as they watched the movements of the two strong men, whose every muscle seemed to writhe and throb in the fierce encounter. At last, after a brief but most arduous struggle, Jamieson succeeded in gathering his man up, and throwing him off the chest. For the first time that day, Ewebank had the humiliation of going to the ground. Nevertheless, his friends did not despair; and in the second round they had good reason for the revival of their hopes, as their favourite, by practising a clever dodge, succeeded in throwing Jamieson easily. In the third and final fall, which proved to be the fatal one for the pretensions of Ewebank for this year at "Flan," Jamieson gathered him up, and carried him several yards; and it was then thought that Ewebank's chances of victory were at an end. And yet, as he was being thus carried by his tremendously powerful opponent, his look was calm, and even triumphant. Jamieson tried once more to hurl him from the chest, but failed; and the moment that Ewebank's foot touched the ground, a fierce struggle, which lasted only a few seconds, eusued. Both men went to the ground; but Jamieson being uppermost, was declared the victor, much to the con

sternation of the friends and supporters of Ewebank, who had all along supposed that he was nearly the equal in strength, and greatly superior in skill, to his now triumphant adversary. It is only fair to add that, a week or two afterwards, Ewebank fully justified the opinion which had been formed of him, at the contest at the Ferry, on Windermere, when both men, after throwing all competitors, came once more into collision, to struggle for the prize, and when Ewebank gained the first and the third falls, and won the belt in consequence. A private match was immediately made between the two men, and Ewebank threw his antagonist twice in succession; and thus, by throwing Jamieson four out of five falls, he regained the confidence of his friends.

As we have previously said, no one who has not lived in Cumberland and Westmoreland, and mingled familiarly with all classes of the people, can have any proper idea of the importance which is attached to these great contests, or of the excitement which they produce in the remotest hamlets, and the most out-of-the-way homesteads. Thousands of ruddy and stalwart dalesmen and mountaineers troop down to them, dressed in their holiday attire, and go away rejoicing in the success of the victor, or lamenting the fate of their favourite, and anticipating better fortune for the future; and surely these simple and manly pastimes of a fine race of men need not excite the fears of the moralist. The bad passions are rarely, if ever, brought into play; and generous emulation, skill, magnificent development of muscle, courage, and that general manliness which have so long characterized the British race, and which have won for us the respect of our continental neighbours, are elicited, in an eminent degree, by the old-fashioned wrestling matches of Westmoreland and Cumberland.

able change from the funeral-like pace which we had been pursuing, the more so as the morning wind was exceedingly bleak and keen, and ourselves and our horses perfectly saturated with the heavy night-dew. In our rear, as was always the practice in those times, came a troop of horse artillery, with two field-pieces, and their tumbrels of ammunition, &c., &c. The day's march passed without let or hindrance of any kind, and was exceedingly hot and monotonous; we called the usual halts for refreshment, rest, and shade, and suffered the usual amount of thirst, always to be endured in the Goojerat and Marwah provinces during the hot weather. Many wells of water we certainly did pass, but we knew well that the foul fiends of enemies with whom we had to deal had poisoned them all with arsenic. The sun was just setting in the west when we reached the foot of the Ghauts, and commenced our ascent up the rather steep and particularly narrow pass which was hedged in on either side with a dense jungle of prickly pears, bamboos, rattans, brambles, and stunted banian trees. Here and there, on some more elevated spot, a tuft of cocoa-nut trees, or the tall peaks of some distant blue mountain, added variety to the wild beauty of the scenery. Birds of rare and brilliant plumage flitted about in all directions, and the shrill scream of the peacock was answered by the partridge's cry or the inquisitive note of the bird called the "Who-are-you." Antelopes and hares darted across the road, and we could hear the wild boar snorting and rustling amongst the thick brushwood on either side. We had trouble enough, however, to hasten on our march, and to get the guns forward, so as to reach the table-land on the summit of the Ghaut, if possible, before the impenetrable darkness of night must, of necessity, materially impede our progress; for we knew full well that the Bheels were swarming on either side of us, hid from view, amidst prickly-pear fastnesses, known only to and prepared by themselves.

We might have been, perhaps, an hour or so ascending this steep pass, and the dusk of evening was rapidly changing into total darkness, when of

a sudden there arose around us and before us and behind us a dense smoke, which must soon have suffocated men and horses but for the providential circumstance of there blowing at the time a very strong bleak land-wind from our rear, which carried off the smoke in dense volumes right ahead. When night had fairly set in, there shot up lurid flames of fire, lighting up everything around us as clear as daylight for miles in every direction. This under ordinary circumstances might have been rather favourable than otherwise, for the expedition of our march; but it was the signal for the Bheels to commence their onslaught, and perfect showers of arrows came flying in amongst us, grievously wounding men and horses, and adding considerably to the confusion and trouble of the moment. Our commanding officer was, however, a cool-headed soldier; before giving any command he maturely weighed, not only its immediate effect, but its subsequent results, and all the men had confidence in him, which was a great thing in such a moment of jeopardy. The bugle sounded the call to dismount, and by this measure the men were to a great extent protected from the harassing attack of the Bheels. But not all, however. The poor sergeantmajor of the troop, whilst with wide open mouth bawling out some directions to the men, for the roar of the fire around was great, received an arrow in it, which passed through the back of his neck, and he fell dead on the spot. The horses themselves became ungovernable, and were compelled to be blindfolded, whilst some of them seemed utterly paralyzed with fear, and with the greatest difficulty could be made to move at all.

Meanwhile our greatest anxiety was excited by the imminent danger arising from the showers of sparks that kept falling upon the tumbrels and ammunition waggons. We got them to the front by the aid of as many horses as could be lashed to the carriages by means of ropes and other contrivances, and then leaving them there, returned the horses to their proper ranks, every six horses to the care of one trooper. The whole of the rest of the force found ample and fatiguing occupation in