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Solent in the vicinity of Cowes. Southward, the scene
is limited to the face of the enclosed fields which de-
scend from the higher downs between us and the
coast. A more charming, soft, simple prospect, calling
up ideas of peaceful quiet, industry, and comfort, can
scarcely be pictured in the imagination. The ruins of
the old castle, on which we have taken our seat, and
lighted up with the mellow tinge of an evening sun,
help to awake additional fancies in the mind.
have the wide expanse of the fortification before us,
covering at least twenty acres of ground, and plainly
showing what an important feudal stronghold the
place once had been. The whole is now completely
dismantled, and in a state of broken ivy-clad ruin,
with the exception of the house and offices, of compa-
ratively modern date, belonging to the keeper, in the
inner court. Descending the broken stair of the keep
to these offices, we are conducted into one in which is
a draw-well of 300 feet in depth. Water is drawn
from it by a bucket and windlass, wrought by an un-
fortunate donkey, who is obliged to enter and turn

nooks and on prominent bushy knolls, ornamental
cottages and houses; and in one place, under the sha-
dow of the pendant cliff, there is now building a
handsome town of detached villas, called Ventnor.
The friable sandstone cliffs near Blackgang abound in
marine fossil remains. From a mass of rock which
had fallen from the summit, a height of about three
hundred feet above the level of the sea, I procured
ferent kinds. The millions of years that must have
some remarkably fine specimens of fossil shells of dif-
elapsed since the sandstone of the cliff was a soft mass
in the bed of the ocean, who can number or imagine!
Pursuing the winding and up-and-down route
beneath the crags on our left, with the glittering ex-
panse of the channel on our right, we are at length
brought to Shanklin, a modern village a short way
removed from the sea, and celebrated for its chine.
Chine is a word often heard in the Isle of Wight,
and applies to a ravine of sandy strata of different
colours. The chine at Shanklin, I understand, was
once pretty; now, it is a dell with dirty brown sandy
sides, not more interesting than a tolerably deep rail-
way cutting, its variegated colours, if they ever existed,
having been obliterated by damp, or a muddy stream
conveyed into it from the village.

and choose to remain within the establishment; and to the juvenile poor it affords instruction, and fits them for a useful trade or occupation in the world. Eighty acres of land are attached to the house, and divided into fields and gardens which are cultivated by the inmates. The institution has proved an effective cure of utter destitution and misery.

MACONOCHIE ON THE CONVICT SYSTEM
IN AUSTRALIA.

CAPTAIN MACONOCHIE, a person of enlightened and generous character, well known to men of science in this country, about five years ago accompanied his friend Sir John Ross to Van Diemen's Land, in the capacity of secretary, but was soon obliged, by the individuals who had long held the chief influence in the colony, to retire from a situation in which he could not look with official indifference upon almost every species of selfish injustice. Fortunately, the home government appreciated his value, and three papers drawn up by him, on the convict discipline of the Australian colonies, were laid before Parliament in April 1838. Captain Maconochie has more recently in Van Diemen's Land printed a volume,* in which, From Shanklin, a journey of an hour brings us to besides a summary of those parliamentary papers, he is a town of beautiful villas, with some business subjects, all of them marked by enlarged and humane streets, lying on the face of a pleasant woody hill, views. The object of the whole is to enforce the proand commanding a view of Portsmouth on the main-priety of substituting for the present harsh and deland opposite. The town is provided with a very long grading mode of convict management, a system in wooden jetty or pier across a wide expanse of sandy which, while punishment is duly administered, moral beach, which is visible at low water; and hence steam-influence shall be called into play for the purpose of Portsmouth, Southampton, and various other places. boats ply at frequent intervals, in connexion with producing reformation.

round a wheel, on the principle of a squirrel in a cage. Ryde, at the eastern extremity of the island. Ryde presents a series of short articles on various connected

This poor creature, who, on performing his task, was glad to scramble out, and betake himself to a nibble of the green grass which grows plenteously in the court-yard, was, it seems, preceded in office by an ass who worked the wheel for the space of fifty-two years, and even then died in perfect health and strength, by accidentally falling over the ramparts of the castle. One of its successors was a pensioner of the Duke of Gloucester, uncle of George III., who settled on it an aliment of a penny loaf a-day; a bounty which it gratefully enjoyed for a long period of years. The water of the well, which was brought up for us to taste, is pure, cool, and pleasant, being the produce of springs

in the solid rock.

On the northern side of the court, near the keeper's house, are the dilapidated walls of the edifice in which Charles I. was confined, after he had fallen into the hands of his subjects. The window, with its iron bars, through which he on one occasion attempted to escape, is still pointed out: the apartment is entirely gone. A not less interesting spot is the open tilting ground on the east, and exterior to the court-yard. This ancient place of arms is a beautiful lawn, with banks on all sides for spectators, the whole being in

The Isle of Wight, of which we now had made a pretty comprehensive inspection, both in the interior and coasts, possesses a few interesting points worthy of the visit of tourists, particularly Alum Bay, Undercliff, and Carisbrooke; but, generally speaking, its natural beauties and fertile qualities have been considerably overrated. Most of it is of a commonplace character, consisting of low bare hills or downs, with

Captain Maconochie's account of the present system, and of the evils flowing from it, is very striking. "Prisoners are, on their first arrival in the penal colonies, assigned to private service at the will of a public board, which endeavours, as it best can, to distribute them fairly and equally among the settlers, according to certain conventional rules laid down for its guidance. In the assigned service thus entered on, no wages are allowed to be given; nor is any other indulgence after four, six, or eight years, according to moral impulse employed, excepting the remote hope of their original sentence. Until these elapse, the labour imposed is strictly coerced, or slave labour; and although accompanied with a fixed minimum amount of physical maintenance and support, sufficient to place above want, it is yet subject to all the discomfort and moral degradation incident to such a condition. The men are lodged in outhouses, six, eight, or more, under a stable roof; they sleep here on truckle bedsteads, generally without undressing; the floor is earthen, and often very soft; they cook and eat in the same place, or in one not better, immediately adjoin

as good preservation as when filled with the chivalry of England; except, however, as respects a tempera- ing, always in the roughest manner; and they are

and fair daughters of Vectis.

The broad green knoll on which the castle stands, has been the site of a fortification since the period the Romans were in possession of the island, and has been maintained by successive dynasties of Saxons, Normans, and English. In the year 530, the castle was captured by Whitgar, a general under Cerdic, king of the West Saxons, and hence received the name of Whitgarsburg, which was afterwards shortened into Garsbruk, and that, in its turn, was transformed into the present appellation of Carisbrooke. The village which arose at the base of the mount, was, in these ancient times, the capital of the island, but in the course of events it gradually lost this character, and the rise of Newport, in a more advantageous situation farther down the Medina, finally deprived it of its distinction and importance. Newport, in the present day, as I have said, is a remarkably neat town, with evidently a fair share of trade, and is the place of residence of many respectable families. During our stay, we made excursions to several places in the neighbourhood besides Carisbrooke; among the rest, to the government prison at Parkhurst, to see which had been a principal motive for my visit to this part of England. An account of what fell under my observation here, will form the subject of the next article.

Having thus fairly exhausted Newport and its neighbourhood, we proceeded southwards, on a more lengthened excursion, to follow out the line of coast

from Blackgang Chine to Shanklin. This division of the southern shore comprises scenery more interesting than what is seen farther west at Freshwater Gate and Alum Bay. The incessant action of the waves of

the inferior slopes disposed as small arable farms;
and it possesses little ornamental wood to compose
what is called park scenery. The soil is generally a
poor yellowish clay, in many places ill-drained, and
under a backward state of cultivation. I understand,
however, that the more energetic landed gentry and
yeomanry are making efforts to improve both the
tillage and the live stock of the island. The roads
environed by hedge-rows, they form one of the most
are good, though very narrow and uneven; and being
pleasing traits in the rural scenery. The climate of
the island is usually reckoned to be somewhat more
mild, pure, and salubrious than that of the mainland
ture two or three degrees higher in winter, from the
prevalence of marine breezes, I should imagine this
distinction to be rather fanciful. The island contains
many remarkably pleasant places of private residence
for invalids and others, and also a plentiful supply of
drawbacks on comfort which it may be as well to
hotels for transient visiters; but there are several
state. In few places are there any walks on a level
surface fit for valetudinarians-scarcely any con-
veyances are to be obtained but open cars-and the
expense of living at boarding-houses or inns is exces-
sively high. A tourist may travel a month in some
parts of the Continent for the sum which he will be
compelled to dissipate in a week in the Isle of Wight.
The same thing almost may be said of travelling in
any part of the south of England.

subject to the most severe regulations, which any master can get enforced, on appeal to a magistrate, by equally severe punishments. This is the usual picture in the country districts; in the towns there is more comfort (sometimes in the case of a good house-servant there is even too much, consistently with a state of punishment), but there is much more temptation. Not being allowed wages, yet desirous of procuring indulgences, the prisoners too often steal to obtain means; and all fly to liquor, whenever they can obtain it, to drown humiliation and care.

At the end of the several allotted periods each man may ask for, and, according to the report made of him, may obtain, or be refused, a ticket of leave; but in this there is necessarily much uncertainty. The record kept of prisoners' conduct only embraces offences, The island is evidently a place of permanent resi- no official notice being taken of good ordinary behacumstances, the number of this class of its inhabi-zeal, or the like; and thus, as only that appears which dence for many families in retired life and easy cir- viour, as diligence, sobriety, obedience, honesty, fidelity, tants having greatly increased within the last twenty however good his disposition and intentions, especially has drawn down magisterial censure, a careless fellow, or thirty years. The population is now about 40,000, nearly a fourth part of whom belong to Newport, and if he has had an indifferent master, may have a long another fourth to Ryde and Cowes. The latter town, list against him, while a thorough villain, more happily estuary of Southampton water, is the principal sea- deception which his practice in villany gives him, may at the mouth of the Medina, directly opposite the circumstanced, or perhaps from the very power of port, and seat of a rather distinguished and numerous have few or none. When the ticket is obtained, a yacht club. The island possesses a governor, vice- particular district is assigned, in which the recipient admiral, and other honorary functionaries; the pre- residence, and receive wages; but under a recent inust reside. Within it he may choose his master and sent vice-admiral is the Earl of Yarborough, whose elegant mansion of Appuldurcombe, which is kindly statute, he is not allowed to acquire property. He thrown open on certain days of the week for the inmust attend frequent musters, and may not change spection of visiters, forms a leading attraction in the his residence without informing the police. He must also constantly sleep at home, and return thither before eight o'clock every evening. For very trifling irregularities he is liable to have his ticket suspended, or entirely taken away; in either of which cases he is usually sent to hard labour in a road-party, thus falling back on the worst, and not on the best, form of previous treatment. And, practically, a very large often on very slight occasions, in their labour and pursuits, even in this their comparatively free position.

southern part of the island.

Attending with some degree of care to its internal arrangements, and being of easily manageable,dimensions, the Isle of Wight may be described as in a generally thriving and comfortable condition. You nowhere see any mendicant vagrancy or external marks of destitution. This gratifying state of affairs is proa burden on society. Placards on the walls denounce sellers, exhibitors of white mice, or wandering musisevere penalties on all "beggars, pretended matchcians," who are found within the limits of the island, and captains of vessels are warned not to bring them over. But other and more effectual means are adopted for extirpating poverty. The whole island, as respects pauperism, is reckoned as one parish, and is provided with a large workhouse for the reception of all paupers whatsoever, situated a short way from Newport. While furnishing a tranquil shelter to the infirm and helpless poor, this house of industry gives employment at out or in-door labour to all who are able to work,

As the periods of sentence respectively expire, with or without having obtained tickets of leave, and however abandoned in character (if only they escape an extension of time under a colonial sentence), the prisoners become entirely free, and mix as such with nute features and consequences may be thus classed :— the remainder of society; of which whole system the mi

the British Channel is here producing the usual effects moted by a strict exclusion of all persons likely to be proportion of ticket-of-leave men are thus interrupted, of high bare cliffs and formidable land-slips, down to the verge of the water. For a distance of about five miles, there is a section of the coast, called Undercliff, which presents a very peculiar appearance. The washing away of the substratum on the shore, has caused the face of the hill all along to slide down in disorderly masses to the shore, but preserving a verdant and shrubby surface, and leaving the remaining half of the hill to form a bold, precipitous, and naked background. A road winds along on the top of the fallen land; and here also, in this somewhat perilous situation, are built, in various delightful sunny

The degree of punishment inflicted by it is in every

Subjects connected with the Australian Penal Colonies. By * Australiana. Thoughts on Convict Management and other Captain Maconochie, R. N. K. H. London: J. W. Parker. 1839.

case quite uncertain. A bad master may make it fearful; a good or weak one may greatly mitigate it. Much also depends on the personal character of the criminal himself, as will be presently explained; but, in general, the amount of suffering is much greater than it appears to be, or than it is thought in England, or than is at all proportionate to minor offences.

It is on the persons guilty of these, at the same time, and even on the most innocent of them, that the punishment chiefly falls; for the physical endurance is trifling compared with the degradation, and other moral suffering inflicted; and it is the best men who feel these most acutely. The previous habits of old offenders may in most cases, even before their arrival, have inured them to filth, slovenliness, suspicion, contempt, and the habit of submitting to, and commanding their tempers under, such treatment; while a comparatively good man writhes under every thing approaching to indignity, and is unable to conceal or restrain the feelings excited by it.

The very bad are thus little punished-if, indeed, their situation be not in many cases even improved; while the less bad, up even to the very good (of whom there are some), are punished with extreme severity, and almost universally degraded and demoralised. Every feeling of self-respect is speedily lost amidst the humiliations and inconveniences inflicted; and irritation, recklessness, insubordination, disgraceful punishment, furious resentment, drunkenness, theft, and prostitution, complete the sacrifice of many a human being born to better things, and whom misfortune and imperfect political institutions, more than crime, or original bad dispositions, have thus irrecoverably ruined.

The evil also does not stop here. Social, like mechanical impulses, act reciprocally. The degradation of one class operates injuriously on every other; and it is impossible to view the state of society in the penal colonies, without being made most painfully sensible of this fact." Our author traces the effect of this slaveholding system in the harsh, overbearing, and quarrelsome character which attaches to the free population of penal Australia; in a depth of suspicion, and a recklessness of assertion "beyond all precedent in civilised life;" in short, "a disunion of society." Under a system so unfortunately arranged, administration becomes extremely difficult, and every successive governor has been charged with heinous errors. Captain Maconochie proceeds to suggest a new system of management for the convicts in Australia. He proposes that they should be kept entirely under the care of the government, and subjected to a wellregulated system of restraint and of reformation, until they have become fit to re-enter society, when they should come forth as free labourers. Into the details of his plan we cannot here enter; but it is the less necessary, as, since the preceding part of this article was put into types, the subject has come under discussion in parliament, and a prospect has been held out of a complete revolution in convict management being carried into effect by the government. The subject is one invested with great difficulties. It will be scarcely possible so to adjust the meed of punishment, the means of reformation, the desirableness of economy, the demands of one set of the colonies for convict labour, and the fears of another set lest convicts be let loose upon them, as to give entire satisfaction. But it is quite clear that some change in the present system is required; and hence we would hope that the various parties interested in the question will meet it in a spirit of liberality and concession, and not allow small obstacles to stand in the way of a reform so devoutly to be wished.

EXPEDITION TO SIBERIA.* THE recently published work, of which the full title is noted below, is one of much importance in various respects. No portion of the globe, scarcely excepting even the interior of Africa, is less known to the civilised world than the northern coast of Asia. This region being entirely in the possession of Russia, it was by that power alone that discoveries could properly be prosecuted; and, till of late years, its rulers have not been in a condition to appreciate the full value of such explorations, either to themselves or to mankind at large. The matters brought to light, therefore, by Admiral Wrangell's expedition of 1820-1823, the account of which is now for the first time laid before the world, have all the charm of perfect novelty; and of this, as well as of their generally interesting character, a few extracts will suffice to satisfy the

covery of a "wide immeasurable ocean," at all the
points which they tried. This obstacle of course com-
pelled them to pause, and renounce the object imme-
diately in view. But in their various routes on the
land, they saw enough to render their expedition one
of profound interest, both to themselves and to others.
The little that was formerly known on the subject of
Northern Siberia, must have often led reflecting minds
to wonder in what manner life could be sustained in
regions so cold and dreary. "Here (says Admiral
Wrangell) there is nothing to invite. Endless snows
and ice-covered rocks bound the horizon. Nature lies
shrouded in almost perpetual winter. No one attempts
the cultivation of any regetable, nor could success be
expected." This must be understood as referring to
the vegetables capable of sustaining man, and which,
indeed, do yield his chief sustenance in almost all parts
of the world. Happily, however, there are in Siberia
grasses and wild fruits, in sufficient abundance to
maintain a great variety of the lower animals; and it
is here that nature has given compensation to man for
the poverty of useful vegetation. "Countless herds
of rein-deer, elks, black bears, foxes, sables, and grey
squirrels, fill the upland forests; stone foxes and wolves
roam over the low grounds. Enormous flights of
swans, geese, and ducks, arrive in spring, and seek
deserts where they may moult and build their nests in
safety. Eagles, owls, and gulls, pursue their prey along
the sea-coast; ptarmigan run in troops among the
bushes; little snipes are busy along the brooks and
in the morasses; the social crows seek the neighbour-
hood of men's habitations; and, when the sun shines
in spring, one may even sometimes hear the cheerful
note of the finch, and in autumn, that of the thrush."
There is also an abundance of fish in the waters; and
it is by means of these varieties of animal life that a
comparatively large population are fed and clothed, and
enabled to endure the cold and herbless dreariness of a
Siberian clime.

As in the case of the Laplanders, the rein-deer
furnishes to the nomade tribes of Siberia the means
of supplying all their most pressing wants. "The
two most important epochs of the year, are the spring
and autumn migrations of the rein-deer. About the
end of May they leave the forests, where they had
found some degree of shelter from the winter cold, in
large herds, and seek the northern plains nearer the
sea, partly for the sake of the better pasture afforded
by the moss tundras, and partly to fly from the mos-
quitoes and other insects, which, literally speaking,
torment them to death.

In good years, the migrating body of rein-deer
consists of many thousands; and, though they are
divided into herds of two or three hundred each, yet
the herds keep so near together as to form only one
immense mass, which is sometimes from fifty to one
hundred versts in breadth. As each separate herd
approaches the river, the deer draw more closely to-
gether, and the largest and strongest takes the lead.
He advances, closely followed by a few of the others,
with head erect, and apparently intent on examining
the locality. When he has satisfied himself, he enters
the river, the rest of the herd crowd after him, and in
a few minutes the surface is covered with them.
Then the hunters, who had been concealed to lee-
ward, rush in their light canoes from their hiding-
places, surround the deer, and delay their passage,
whilst two or three chosen men, armed with short
spears, dash into the middle of the herd, and dispatch
large numbers in an incredibly short time; or at
least wound them so, that if they reach the bank, it
is only to fall into the hands of the women and chil-

dren.

by the striking together of their antlers, the swift canoes dashing in amongst them, the terror of the frightened animals, the danger of the huntsmen, the shouts of warning, advice, or applause from their friends, the blood-stained water, and all the accompanying circumstances, form a whole which no one can picture to himself without having witnessed the scene."

Sometimes the rein-deer hunt fails, and then the importance of the animal to the natives is shown by the most deplorable consequences. On one occasion, when Admiral Wrangell was present, the natives, who were waiting in a state of almost utter starvation for the appearance of the herds, 66 were filled with joy, by immense numbers of rein-deer approaching the right bank of the river opposite to Lobasnoje. I never saw such a multitude of these animals. At a distance, their antlers resembled a moving forest. Crowds of people flocked in on every side, and hope beamed on every countenance as they arranged themselves in their light boats to await the passage of the deer. But whether the animals had seen and were terrified at the crowds of people, or whatever the reason may have been, after a short pause, they turned, left the bank, and disappeared among the mountains. The utter despair of the poor starving people was dreadful to witness. It manifested itself among these rude children of nature under various forms. Some wept aloud, and wrung their hands; some threw themselves on the ground, and tore up the snow; others, and amongst them the more aged, stood silent and motionless, gazing with fixed and tearless eyes in the direction where their hopes had vanished. Feeling our utter inability to offer any alleviation to their misery, we hastened to quit this scene of wo."

"One sees

The inhabitants of Siberia, in fact, enjoy life but by fits and starts. The rein-deer, it has been seen, appear but at certain seasons, and the case is the same with fish. During the intense winter cold, these creatures retire into the deepest parts of the rivers and lakes, and are there unapproachable. When their stores of flesh and fish chance to run short, which often happens before the fitting time, the distress of the people becomes altogether fearful. them, like wandering phantoms, pale, without strength, scarcely able to walk; they throw themselves greedily on any remains of bones, skin, or aught else which may in any way alleviate the pangs of hunger." The common form in which they usually first obtain relief, is by the arrival of large flights of birds, swans, geese, ducks, and snipes, from the south. Old and young, men and women, all who can use a gun or a bow, hasten to the pursuit, and, for the time, the scarcity ends. When to these frequent sufferings from famine is added an atmospherical temperature, considered mild when only eighteen or twenty degrees below the freezing point, and when it is remembered that innumerable hosts of sharp-stinging mosquitoes fill the air during a great part of the year, it may well be believed that the people of these regions are charac terised by continued melancholy, if not by sullen

moroseness.

Having usually to shift in the fishing season to the banks of rivers, many of the Siberian tribes occupy two kinds of habitations, their winter and their summer ones. The former are small cottages of boards, in the shape of truncated pyramids, with sunk mud floors, and window-slits fitted with plates of ice in winter, and fish-membranes at other times. The summer dwellings are tents of birch bark, softened and sewed together. An open hearth, with a very rude chimney, keeps these huts well furnished with smoke, which is essential to the expulsion of mosquitoes. Of the fisheries conducted at the summer tents, it is only necessary to remark, that the whole of each little community unites to erect a dam across the river, leaving an opening in the middle in which baskets are placed for the securing of the migrating fish. After the construction of the dam, the fishing is a task so easy, that the men hand it over to the women, and direct their own attention to the chase.

names of Tungusi, Jakuti, Lamuti, and others, have,
The Siberians of the north-east, called by the tribe-
in addition to their tame rein-deer, a small-sized,
shaggy breed of horses for work and travel. But,
like the Kamtschatkadales, the inhabitants of many
districts also possess a peculiar and powerful breed of
dogs, by means of which a great part of their sledge-
journeying is effected. "These dogs," says Admiral
Wrangell, "have much resemblance to the wolf.
They have long, pointed, projecting noses, sharp and
upright ears, and a long bushy tail; some have smooth,
and some have curly hair; their colour is various,
black, brown, reddish-brown, white, and spotted. They
vary also in size; but it is considered that a good
sledge dog should not be less than two feet seven and
of an inch in length (English measure).
a half inches in height, and three feet three quarters

The office of the spearman is a very dangerous one. It is no easy thing to keep the light boat afloat among the dense crowd of the swimming deer, which, more over, make considerabia resistance; the males with their horns, teeth, and hind-legs, whilst the females try to overset the boat by getting their fore-feet over the gunnel; if they succeed in this, the hunter is lost, for it is hardly possible that he should extricate himself from the throng; but the skill of these people is so great, that accidents very rarely occur. A good hunter may kill one hundred or more in less than half an hour. When the herd is large, and gets into disorder, it often happens that their antlers become entangled with each other; they are then unable to defend themselves, and the business is much easier. Meanwhile, the rest of the boats pick up the slain, and fasten them together with thongs, and every one is allowed to keep what he lays hold of in this manner. It might seem that in this way nothing would be left to requite the spearmen for their skill, and the danger they have encountered; but whilst every thing taken in the river is the property of whobank before they fall, belong to the spearman who ever secures it, the wounded animals which reach the wounded them. The skill and experience of these men are such, that in the thickest of the conflict, when every energy is taxed to the uttermost, and their life pass their whole life in the open air; in summer they Their barking is like the howling of a wolf. They is every moment at stake, they have sufficient pre- dig holes in the ground for coolness, or lie in the water blows so as to kill the smallest animals outright, but selves by burrowing in the snow, and lie curled up, sence of mind to contrive to measure the force of their to avoid the mosquitoes: in winter they protect themonly to wound the larger and finer ones, so that they with their noses covered by their bushy tails. The may be just able to reach the bank. Such proceeding female puppies are drowned, except enough to prenot sanctioned by the general voice, but it seems, serve the breed, the males alone being used in draught. nevertheless, to be almost always practised. Those born in winter enter on their training the folThe whole scene is of a most singular and curious lowing autumn, but are not used in long journeys until Imperial Navy. Edited by Major E. Sabine. London: James character, and quite indescribable. The throng of the third year. The feeding and training is a partithousands of swimming rein-deer, the sound produced | cular art, and much skill is required in driving and

reader.

The north-eastern district of Siberia, visited by Admiral Wrangell and his companions, lies between the river Lena on the west, and Behring's Straits on the east, and extends from about the 126th to the 130th degree of east longitude, and from the 62d to the 73d degree of north latitude. The expedition was a land one, its main object being to settle certain doubts which prevailed as to the existence of a great arctic continent north of the Siberian seas. An extensive tract of the Siberian coast was traversed by the party in the course of their enterprise, in order to enable them to cross the ice northwards, at various points, in sledges; and the result of these journeys was the dis-is

*Narrative of an Expedition to the Polar Sea in 1820, 1821, 1822, and 1823, by Lieutenant (now Admiral) Wrangell of the Russian

Madden and Co. 1840.

guiding them. The best trained dogs are used as leaders; and as the quick and steady going of the team, usually of twelve dogs, and the safety of the traveller, depend on the sagacity and docility of the leader, no pains are spared in their education-so that they may always obey their master's voice, and not be tempted from their course when they come on the scent of game. This last is a point of great difficulty; sometimes the whole team, in such cases, will start off, and no endeavours on the part of the driver can stop them. On such occasions, we have sometimes had to admire the cleverness with which the well-trained leader endeavours to turn the other dogs from their pursuit ; if other devices fail, he will suddenly wheel round, and by barking, as if he had come on a new scent, try to induce the other dogs to follow him. In travelling across the wide tundra, in dark nights, or when the vast plain is veiled in impenetrable mist, or in storms or snow-tempests, when the traveller is in danger of missing the sheltering powarna, and of perishing in the snow, he will frequently owe his safety to a good leader; if the animal has ever been in this plain, and has stopped with his master at the powarna, he will be sure to bring the sledge to the place where the hut lies deeply buried in the snow; when arrived at it, he will suddenly stop, and indicate, significantly, the spot where his master must dig.

Nor are the dogs without their use in summer; they tow the boats up the rivers, and it is curious to observe how instantly they obey their master's voice, either in halting or in changing the bank of the river. On hearing his call, they plunge into the water, draw the towing-line after them, and swim after the boat to the opposite shore; and, on reaching it, replace themselves in order, and wait the command to go on. Sometimes, even those who have no horses will use the dogs in fowling excursions, to draw their light boats from one lake or river to another. In short, the dog is fully as useful and indispensable a domestic animal to the settled inhabitant of this country, as the tame reindeer is to the nomade tribes. They regard it as such. We saw a remarkable instance of this during the terrible sickness, which, in the year 1821, carried off the greater part of these useful animals. An unfortunate Juhakir family had only two dogs left out of twenty, and these were just born, and, indeed, still blind. The mother being dead, the wife of the Juhakir determined on nursing the two puppies with her own child, rather than lose the last remains of their former wealth. She did so, and was rewarded for it, for her two nurselings lived, and became the parents of a new and vigorous race of dogs."

Notwithstanding the length to which these notices and extracts have run, we find that we have yet given but a very imperfect idea of the uncommon and abundant interest of the contents of this volume, which reflects honour on the Russian service. We can but point it out, however, to those who would know more of the subject, and feel assured that the indication will be held as a favour by those who avail them selves of it.

TOPHAM, AND OTHER STRONG MEN. THOMAS TOPHAM, "the Strong Man," as he was usually called, was born in London about the year 1710. He was bred to the trade of a carpenter, and,

although his stature never exceeded five feet ten, soon became remarkable for the extraordinary vigour of his muscular powers. His passion for athletic exercises led to his deserting his regular trade, and adopting that of an innkeeper. At his house of the Red Lion, on the City Road, he gave the first public display of his astonishing powers, by pulling against a horse, with his feet placed on a low wall for support. He next tried his strength agamst two horses, but received a lasting injury in one of his legs, though to a certain extent successful in the accomplishment of the proposed feat. These exertions were made by way of rivalling those of a German performer who came to this country, and drew against two horses with success. But, as is shown in Sir D. Brewster's Treatise on Natural Magic, the German executed the feat not by sheer strength, as in Topham's case, but by a skilfully arranged piece of mechanism, which disseminated the strain through the lower part of the trunk. Other performances of the German, such as his allowing stones to be broken on his body, and the like, were managed in a similar way, by artifice more than strength.

Topham trusted only to his unaided muscular powers, and by their means he effected the following very wonderful tasks. With his fingers, he rolled up a very large and strong pewter dish. Thrusting the bowl of a very thick tobacco-pipe under his garter, his legs being bent, he broke it to pieces with the tendons of his ham. He broke a similar bowl between his first and second finger, by pressing them together sideways. A table, six feet long, with half a hundredweight fastened to the end of it, was lifted by him with his teeth, and held for a considerable time in a horizontal position. He struck an iron poker, a yard long and three inches thick, against his bare left arm, between the elbow and wrist, till the instrument was bent so as nearly to form a right angle. Taking another poker of the same kind, he held the ends of it in his hands, and placing the middle against the back of his neck, made both ends meet before him, after which he pulled it almost straight again. He broke a rope two inches

in circumference, though he was obliged to exert four times the strength requisite for the purpose, in consequence of the awkward way in which he applied his powers to the task. He lifted a stone roller, weighing eight hundred pounds, by means of a chain fastened to it, using his hands only, and standing on a frame above the roller. But, perhaps, of all Topham's feats, the most surprising was his lifting of three hogsheads of water, weighing in all one thousand eight hundred and thirty-six pounds, in the presence of multitudes of spectators assembled to witness the exertion. The attention which Topham devoted to athletic exhibitions, and the habits to which these exhibitions naturally led, had the effect of withdrawing his mind from serious business, and he became a bankrupt. After this event he travelled over the country, and gave regular displays of his muscular strength in the majority of the provincial towns. The famous William Hutton of Birmingham, when resident in his native Derby, witnessed Topham's feats, and has not disdained to give an admiring record of them in his writings. Hutton's statement is characterised by his wonted clearness and accuracy. "Topham, being obliging enough to allow his person to be examined, was found to be extremely muscular; what were hollows under the arms and hams of others, were filled up with ligaments in him." After mentioning that Topham was above thirty years of age, and had a slight limp in consequence of the fracture of his leg, caused by drawing against the horses, the writer proceeds: "The performances of this wonderful person, in whom was united the strength of twelve men, consisted in rolling up a pewter dish of seven pounds, as a man rolls up a sheet of paper; holding a pewter quart at arms' length, and squeezing the sides together like an egg-shell; lifting two hundredweight with his little finger, and moving it gently over his head. The bodies he touched seemed to have lost their power of gravitation. He also broke a rope, fastened to the floor, that would sustain twenty hundredweight."

Hutton mentions other feats, similar to those previously enumerated here, and continues thus:"Weakness and feeling seemed fled together. Being a master of music, Topham entertained the company with Mad Tom. I heard him also sing a solo to the organ in St Werburgh's church, then the only one in Derby; but though he might perform with judgment, yet the voice, more terrible than sweet, seemed scarcely human. Though of a pacific temper, and with the appearance of a gentleman, yet he was liable to the insults of the rude. The hostler at the Virgin's Inn, where he resided, having given him some cause of displeasure, Topham took one of the kitchen spits from the mantel-piece, and bent it round the man's neck like a handkerchief; but as he did not choose to tuck the ends in the hostler's bosom, the cumbrous ornament excited the laughter of the company till he condescended to untie the cravat. Had he not abounded in good nature, the men might have been in fear for the safety of their persons, and the women for that of their pewter-shelves, for he could instantly double up both. One blow with his fist would for ever have silenced those heroes of the bear-garden, Johnson and Mendoza." His strength not being particularly apparent at first sight, his ordinary and non-professional displays excited the more astonishment. Two strangers, of powerful make and quarrelsome temper, entered his tavern one day, and, after evincing much insolence, would fight with the quiet and patient landlord. He was at length obliged to seize them respectively by the nape of the neck, when, in spite of the most violent struggles, he coolly noited their heads together, till like manner, on the occasion of a race-exhibition, being they asked pardon of all present in abject terms. In annoyed, along with others, by a carter who would took hold of the back of the vehicle, and dragged it force his waggon into the scene of the sport, Topham back, horse, man, and all, till the way was sufficiently cleared; the carter, in the mean while, striving to push his horse forward, yet not daring to lay a finger on the man who was giving this terrible proof of strength.

Annoyed, like Sampson, by a wife of uncongenial dispositions, Topham fell into distresses, and died in the prime of his age.

Topham appears to have been one of the strongest men of whom we have authentic accounts. Yet very striking things are told of the men of antiquity, of which some must be true. Regarding various individuals who filled the throne of the Caesars, in particular, wonderful stories are told; and these are the more likely to be correct, as the Roman soldiery put their favourites into the imperial chair chiefly for personal and physical qualities. Maximin, the emperor, was so strong in body, that he drew loaded waggons with ease. He struck out the teeth of a horse with his fist, and by a kick broke its thigh. He crumbled stones between his fingers, and cleft young but stout trees with his hands. Caius Marius, another of those nominated to the empire by the soldiers, is said to have stayed with his fourth finger a cart drawn by horses, and to have drawn it backward in the same way. With single fingers of his two hands, acting against one another, he could break strong cords twisted together. The Emperor Aurelian is stated by a credible author, Flavius Vopiscus, to have been of great stature, and of such marvellous strength, that he slew, in one engagement with the Sarmatians, no less than fortynine men. Similar feats are told of other members

of the imperial line, and, from the way in which these sovereigns were selected, many of these anecdotes are entitled to belief.

a

Froissart, a writer of undeniable honesty, speaks of companion-knight to the Earl of Foix, one Orlando Burg, who, being hurried for fuel one cold day, went down a long flight of steps, and, finding asses loaded with wood in the court, seized the largest of them, burden and all, and never stopped till he had laid ass and all from his shoulders on the fire-a position, however, not long kept by the ass at least, as may be believed. In the French "Bibliotheque des Gens do Cour," we are told of a man named Barsabas, who was a soldier of Louis XIV.'s guards, and who, on one occasion when the king's heavy coach of state stuck so fast in the road that all the oxen and horses that could be yoked to it were unable to pull it out, applied his single strength to it from below, and lifted it out of the place. A man was about to fight with Barsabas, and when the two were holding out their hands, the strong fellow seized the fist of the other, and, by a gentle squeeze, utterly disabled him from using the limb. Barsabas could snap horse-shoes in two as easily as wafers. He went in one day to a village farrier's, and said he wished for horse-shoes, Several were shown to him, and he broke them to pieces one by one with his fingers, saying they were uselessly brittle. The farrier stared, but proposed to make stronger ones. While beginning to the task, Barsabas took up the large anvil, and held it under his cloak. When the anvil was sought for, he set it down, on which the farrier, seeing such miraculous feats, as he thought them, ran off with the exclamation, that the devil in person was in his smithy.

Barsabas, the French work tells, once met his match, however. He went into a rope-shop in Flanders, his native region, and sought to purchase some strong ropes. Several being presented to him, he snapped them like pack-thread, and said "they were very bad." "I will give you better ones," said the woman who was selling the articles, "if you have money to pay for them." Barsabas immediately produced several crown pieces. The woman took them up, and broke two or three of them as easily as Barsabas had snapped the ropes. "Your crowns are as bad as my ropes," said the woman, smiling. The astonished visiter made inquiries, and found a solution of the mystery of the woman's strength, in the fact that she was his own sister! They had not met from infancy, and had both left the place of their nativity.

THE TESTAMENT.

A STORY.

Ar an early hour of the day, while morning, indeed, was yet struggling with the night for mastery, Horace Morand entered the house of his uncle, and, with the confidence of a privileged relative, proceeded directly to the sleeping apartment of which the old man had been an involuntary tenant for some weeks back. An aged nurse was seated on a sofa in the chamber, half slumbering through long fatigue. The windows were yet closed; but on the table stood a single light, which showed, through the half-open curtains of the bed, the wan figure of the elder Morand, or what had been that person, for the body was now a piece of inanimate matter. The old man had sunk into his last sleep

some hours before.

The noise which Horace Morand made on entering aroused the nurse. She rose, and with a melancholy air said, "Good morning, Mr Horace. You come to see your uncle once more. Look at him. He smiles as if he but slumbered pleasantly; but his eyes will garet," returned the young man. "You have watched re-open no more." "Console yourself, my good Marlong, and have need of rest; go and take it, and I will remain with my uncle." "But, sir," said the nurse, replied the youth, interrupting her; "go, my good "I was desired”. "Go for a little while to rest," Margaret, fear nothing; I will not quit the room." And, as he spoke, he pushed the attendant, with gentle violence, from the chamber. He then sat the deceased relative, he drew the curtains together, down on the sofa, and, glancing for a moment at as if unwilling to have any witness of his reflections. "At last he is gone," said the young man, “and I am rich!"

This opening reflection was followed after a time by occasional glances at the bed. Finally, Horace Morand rose, and drawing open the curtains to the shortest extent possible, he introduced his hand to the head of the bed, and brought it out again, bearing a bunch of keys. Closing the curtains anew, the young man went hurriedly to an escritoire in the room, and applying a key, as if the objects were things familiar to him, opened the repository in question. There was gold in it; there were family jewels; there were title-deeds, and other such papers. These were not what the seeker wanted; but he ultimately found the article in demand. It was a will. Stirring up the fire, the youth sat down by it with the precious document in his eager hands, and read thus:

"I nominate and appoint my nephew, Horace Morand, my general legatee."

"Excellent!" cried the heir, with a degree of joy which he thought it unnecessary to conceal: "I, then, am the inheritor, as the law and the rules of society indicate. By my faith, it was fit time!" As he spoke, Horace, who for two years had dreaded that his uncle would forget family ties in the love borne to strangers,

drew one hand across his now cheerful brow, and read

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"I give and devise twenty thousand francs to Garot and his wife Margaret, who have served me for thirty years with devoted fidelity." "Twenty thousand franks to these people!" was the passing thought of the young heir. Why," ," said he, "they are rich enough already with what they have picked up during these same thirty years. Never mind. It is an old man's folly. I will pay this, since I can't help myself." The reading was continued.

"To Pierre, my man-servant, I give ten thousand francs. I leave ten thousand francs, also, to my friend M. Martin, notary; and it is my wish that the sum should be devoted to the dowering of his daughter Eugenie, my godchild."

"Ten thousand francs to Pierre !" thought the young man-" to an old rascal who ought rather to be turned to the door without his wages! Ten thousand francs to M. Martin, an old notary, who has a beautiful villa at Ville d'Avray, and wealth enough of his own! Ah, this is no dower, my worthy uncle, but a remembrance to Madame Martin. Scandal is sometimes right. I won't pay a penny of this. I will see M. Martin, and tell him what a disgrace it would be in him to take money in this shape, and what the world—or at least the scandal-loving part of it might say of him." The reading was continued.

"I bequeath to Victoire Dubois, daughter of my brave friend, who died for his country, forty thousand francs, and request that M. Martin will do his endeavour to have her well married, and give her the said sum as a dowry." The reader of the will sat silent for a time, with gloomy brow. "To a young workman at Paris," continued the testament, when the reading was resumed, "by name Gustave, whom my nephew Horace knows well, and in whom I am much interested, I give the sum of one hundred thousand francs."

"Give to this stranger lad a hundred thousand francs! Never he shall never have a fraction of this

sum." Horace Morand threw down the will as he

spoke, and rose hastily. He took several turns through the apartment, and then, though the morning was a cold one of November, he threw up the window, and gazed abroad. Before him lay an immense park, filled with stately trees, and, beyond them, a wide range of fertile plains, verdant in spite of the season, and spotted with numerous flocks and herds, the best in all Normandy. Through the country rolled the beautiful waters of the Seine. "All this is mine," said the young man; "I am the natural inheritor of it-the only relative of its last possessor. Why should I give away any part of my rights to dower another man's daughter, and pension a young tradesman, for an old man's freak? This will robs me. Without any such document, the law, as it should do, would give me all. No: I will not yield up my family rights in this way." The new heir wrought himself up by these sophistries to a dark frame of mind. He forgot that vast wealth would remain to him after all, and that his own conduct as a nephew had long been scandalously bad, though, during two past years, self-interest had made him seemingly attentive to his uncle, and regardful of his advices. All this the young man forgot, and he showed that he forgot it by an act of a kind scarcely to be characterised in proper language. After moving about for a time in increasing excitement and passion, he suddenly seized the will and threw it into

the flames.

He was watching its expiring ashes when a knock came to the hall door. Horace hastened to close the escritoire, and replace the keys, after which he himself went to the door to receive the visiter. This was M. Martin, the notary alluded to in the will, and who, informed by message of the late death, had come to behold his friend Morand once more, and to take counsel relative to the deceased's affairs. The notary was a man almost as old as the defunct, and his manner was peculiarly affecting as he knelt down at his entrance before the bed, and took the hand of M. Morand, kissing it respectfully and tearfully. He then turned to Horace, and, with the ease of a man of business, passed to necessary affairs.

"I am sorry," said he, at the outset, with candid firmness, "to see you alone here, Mr Horace. Such a thing is somewhat contrary to forms, where third "Third parties!" said the parties are interested." other, sharply, "Yes, third parties," replied Martin. "You will find a will, Mr Horace." "Possibly enough," said the young man. "It is certain, sir," answered the notary. "My late friend told me of its existence yesterday, some hours before his death. The document will be discovered in that escritoire (here the notary pointed to it), and it is your duty Mr Horace, as my late friend's instructions make it also mine, to search for this valuable document without delay. It is proper, likewise, that all the servants of the house, who may be interested, should be present at this search." Certainly; do what you conceive to be necessary," replied the nephew, in an easy, natural manner. And accordingly, all the domestics then present in the house, were assembled to aid in the proposed examination. The search was most minute, but fruitless. At the close, the old notary sent away all the servants, and, on being alone with Horace, said to him, calmly, "It is impossible that a will should not exist. Your uncle some time since assured me that he would make it, and yesterday he told me that he had fulfilled his intent."

"Can you suspect my honesty?" answered Horace.
"I know nothing of all this."

"I found you here alone,” said the notary, preserv-
ing an air of cold firmness; "but I wish to impugn no
one's good faith. Listen to me, however. Your youth
has been a dissipated one, nay, as your uncle thought,
You know that your conduct drove
a vicious one.
you from your uncle's house. He intended to disin-
herit you. I interposed, and reminded him that you
were the son of an only brother whom he loved, and
of a sister-in-law to whom he had promised to watch
over your welfare. I succeeded in reconciling you
with your uncle. Since that time, now two years ago,
you have been well-conducted, or seemingly so. Heaven
only knows if your reformation was sincere-your
uncle never believed it."

"Did my uncle do me that injustice?" cried Horace.
"He had the belief to which I refer," continued M.
Martin; "and it was with difficulty that I extracted
from him a promise, some time back, to appoint you
his general legatee, a promise which, as I have said,
he informed me of his having fulfilled." After a brief
pause, the notary proceeded :-" But, supposing that
no will were found, you would be heir-at-law, and
would come into possession of all, as the nearest re-
lative. What would you then do ""Do !" exclaimed
the youth-" what should I do but enjoy the fortune
left to me?" "True," said the notary, "but your
uncle often expressed his resolution to provide for
certain persons, his domestics, for example, and to
leave them with the means of comfortably enjoying
"If he had really had
life after his own decease."
this desire," returned Horace, coldly," he would have
taken the means to assure its fulfilment." "It is neces-
sary, moreover," pursued the notary, without heeding
this remark, "that I should disclose a secret to you,
Mr Horace. Your uncle had a child, though never
married." "You calumniate my uncle, sir," said the
nephew; "I do not believe him capable of having so
erred." "The case, nevertheless, is as I say," con-
tinued M. Martin; and you yourself know the child,
now an apprentice in Paris. An honest, well-behaved
boy poor Gustave is; and your uncle not only meant
to establish him in life, but also proposed to disinherit
yourself, and leave all to this boy, at the time when
"All this is absurd, sir," said the young heir; "pass
you incurred his deserved displeasure."
on to other matters, if you have more to say, and let

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us have done with this useless talk."

The whole force of a thunderbolt could not have prostrated a human being so completely as this disclosure did the profligate, who now saw himself stripped of a splendid fortune by his own villanous act. At a period subsequent to these events, M. Martin and the generous boy Gustave bestowed a settlement on Horace Morand, in such a way as to secure to him the necessaries of life; but it was only after he had been brought to confess, in abject terms, the story of his guilt, and to describe the whole train of feelings under which he had acted. These the reader has had pictured forth to him here, and in such away, we hope, as to have interested him in some degree, as well as to have impressed him strongly with a sense of the value of the maxim, " Honesty is the best policy."

COAL-MINES-MODE OF WINNING AND
WORKING THEM.

THE first step, preparatory to sinking the shaft of a
coal-mine, is to ascertain the depth of the bed or stra-
tum of coal from the surface, and its probable thick-
ness; and this is done by means of the process of boring,
which we shall describe. If, however, there are already
pits in the neighbourhood of the place selected for the
site of a new colliery, the necessity of boring is pre-
vented; for in that case, sections of the strata that
occur between the surface and the coal are generally
obtained from the owners of the existing coal-pits.
The process of boring is usually performed in the
following manner. The boring rods are made of iron,
a half square, with a screw at each end, by which they
from three to four feet long, and about one inch and
are screwed together, and other rods added as the hole
increases in depth. The chisel which perforates the
strata is about eighteen inches long, and two and a half
broad at the end, which being screwed on at the lower
end of the rods, and a piece of timber put through an
eye at the upper end, they are prepared for work. The
operation is performed by lifting up the boring rod,
thus equipped, and letting it fall again, at the same
time turning it a little round, by a continuance of
which motion, a round hole is made through the
hardest strata. The borers can fix on handles for two,
three, or four persons, to work as they find it neces-
sary. After they get down to a certain depth, the
rods are worked by means of a bracke, and a triangle
is erected over the spot where the boring is going on,
for the sake of giving increased facilities to the ope-
rations. When the chisel becomes blunt, it is taken
ex-out, and a scooped instrument called a wimble is put
on in its stead, with which the dust or pulverised
matter worn off the stratum in the last operation is
brought up. By the substance brought up by the
wimble, the borers know exactly the nature of the
stratum they are boring in; and by any alteration in
the working of the rods (of which they soon become
sensible by handling them), they perceive the least
variation of the strata. The principal part of the art
of boring depends upon keeping the hole clean, and
stance in the strata with care and attention.
observing and registering every change and circum-

"The will!-the will! young man," returned the notary; " I know there is a will!"

"Perhaps, sir," said Horace, sneeringly, "you pected some little token to come your own way!"

also

The aged notary seemed for a moment to have some little difficulty in restraining himself. But he commanded his temper, and proceeded earnestly to address the heir. "You know well, that, for my own part, I have a fortune sufficient for all my wants; but, in pity to these faithful old servants, conduct yourself generously and honourably, young man, and respect the blood of your uncle. Assign some small portion of this rich heritage to these domestics, and to your uncle's son. Be humane, be just. Do not make me In the year 1805, Mr James Ryan, an Irish gentlerepent of having revived in your uncle's breast the affection of a relative, and having prevented your dis- man, took out a patent for an improved method of inheritance. Let the boy have a slight share of the boring. This consisted in using a cylindrical instruvast heritage of his father. Gustave, I know, would ment for boring, by which a core, or solid unbroken have compassioned you, had circumstances been re- piece of each stratum, was cut, and by other tools brought vertically to the surface, in the exact position versed. Come, Mr Horace," continued the old notary, in which it stood in the strata. By this method, it with earnest and kind tones, and even with tears in his eyes "come, let us search again for this will. Per-will be seen, the direction of what coal-miners call the haps you may help me to find it. Come, Mr Horace!" dip (a circumstance so essential towards determining The young heir assumed the appearance of a desire the best place to sink an engine-shaft for draining the to satisfy the notary, notwithstanding the shade of bed of coals intended to be worked), as well as the suspicion implied in his words and manner. Again quantity and precise nature of the strata or coal meathe parties turned to the escritoire, where M. Martin sures, are correctly ascertained. Mr Ryan likewise was originally tried, in the year 1816, in some of the said the document should be; but the search was, of invented a new system of ventilating mines, which "You see, sir," said Horace," that course, fruitless. the thing which we seek does not exist. You must collieries of Staffordshire, for which he obtained from the Society of Arts one hundred guineas; but Mr have misunderstood my uncle, or else he himself must have been incapable, when he last spoke to you, of just Ryan's method of ventilation never came into universal thought or comprehension."

use.

*

It may readily be conceived, from these observa"No, young man, no," replied the notary. "Oh think, reflect! I know youth is rash. Think well, sir. Are tions, that boring is of the most essential use and imyou certain there is no will?" "I only yield, M. Mar-portance in coal-mining, for by it the adventurers, tin, to the evidence before me, and so must you," an- previously to the sinking of a pit, are enabled to probeing informed beforehand of the nature of the vaswered the young man coldly; and, as he spoke, he cure the most valuable data on which to proceedturned away, with the air of one who has already conreaching the coal, and knowing, to an inch almost, the descended too far, and will continue his forbearance rious strata through which they have to pass before no more. depth of the stratum of coal from the surface, and likewise its quality and thickness. The boring notes of collieries are consequently of the utmost value and Having ascertained, by means of boring, the probable importance to parties interested in coal-mining. depth, thickness, and other attendant circumstances of the bed of coal, the next process is to sink a perpendicular shaft (round or square) from the surface, so as to intersect the various strata containing the coal, and as many of the beds as are considered to be worth working. A steam-engine and shaft are usually at the same time site of the shaft of a coal-mine is determined by the erected, for draining the water from the coal. The

"Well, well!" said M. Martin, in severe and altered
tones, "I must do my duty." He then went to the
door, and called on the servants. All of them speedily
appeared at his summons; and, while Horace Morand
looked on with a cheek now grown pale in spite of
himself, through a sense of alarm inspired by the
notary's change of manner, the following words fell
from the lips of the latter individual. "I have called
you all hither to learn that, two years ago, M. Morand
deposited a will in my hands. By that will, he disin-
herited his nephew, M. Horace Morand; and, with
the exception of legacies to servants and others, de-
vised his whole fortune to a young man, Gustave
whom he named general legatee. Authority was for
mally given to me to produce this will, and see it ful-
filled, in the event of no later one being found to exist
at the testator's decease. Such being the case, I pro-
duce this will as instructed; and my care must now
be to see it executed, and to do justice to Gustave and
all others concerned."

inclination and direction in which the bed of coal lies.

*The coal-strata are seldom or never found to lie in an exactly

tion or descent to some particular part of the horizon, which miners call the dip. If this inclination be towards the east, it is called the east dip, and so on, according to the point of the com

parallel position with the surface, but generally have an inclina

pass to which the strata incline.

"In every mineral plane," says Dr Ure,* "the inclination and direction [of the coal stratum] are to be noted; the former being the angle which it forms with the horizon, the latter, the point of the azimuth or horizon towards which it dips as west, north-east, south, &c. The direction of the bed is that of an horizontal line drawn in its plane, and which is also denoted by the point of the compass. Since the lines of direction and inclination are at right angles to each other, the first may be always inferred from the second; for when a stratum is said to dip to the east or west, this implies that its direction is north and south." The process of sinking the shaft and of draining the water is called, in mining language, winning the coal; and when the sinkers arrive at the first workable seam of coal, they are said to have won it.

Great rejoicings, such as the firing of cannon, &c., usually take place in the neighbourhood of a colliery when a new stratum of coal has been won; at least such is the custom throughout the coal-field of Northumberland and Durham. The following mode of celebrating an event of this kind at Gosforth colliery, near Newcastle, on the 6th of February 1829, may be cited for its novelty. It is from the pen of a correspondent of the Penny Magazine (July 1838). "On the Saturday previous to the circumstance I am about to relate, the miners employed in sinking a pit at Gosforth reached the coal. Two years and a half had been spent in sinking this pit, the shaft of which was cut through 160 fathoms of solid rock; and therefore the event was considered as one of great importance in the surrounding vicinity. Among other rejoicings which took place on this occasion, was a ball, which was held in the mine, at the depth of about 1100 feet below the surface! The ball-room is stated to have been in the form of an L; its width 15 feet, base 22 feet, and per pendicular 48 feet. The company, to the number of two hundred and thirty, of whom about one hundred were ladies (!) began to assemble at the mouth of the mine at half-past nine o'clock A. M., and continued to descend the pit until one o'clock P. M. Immediately on their arrival at the bottom of the pit, each individual proceeded to the face of the drifts, and hewed a piece of coal, as a remembrance of this perilous expedition, and then returned to take part in the festivities of the ball-room. An excellent band, composed entirely of miners, was in attendance. As soon as a sufficient number of guests were assembled, dancing commenced, and was continued without intermission till about three o'clock P. M., when they began to ascend the pit, which all of them accomplished in perfect safety, highly gratified with the subterranean amusements in which they had partaken. The colliery at which this novel entertainment took place is now one of the most extensive in Northumberland."

We shall now briefly describe the mode employed in working or excavating the coal. On arriving with the shaft at the bed of coal intended to be worked, the sinking is suspended for a time, and the miners begin to work the coal by driving or excavating an horizontal passage, called a bord, through the seam of coal, of from twelve to fourteen feet in width generally, and the whole height of the seam, which varies in the Newcastle coal-field from three to six feet. Another similar passage, or bord, is usually commenced at the same time, in an opposite direction. The first or original bords driven in this way in a seam of coal, are, after the workings have been proceeded with for some considerable distance, called the mother-gate, being the passages by which all the workings subsequently made in the mine are approached from the shaft.

The mode most commonly employed for excavating the coal is a simple one. The miners having marked out the width of the bord, or passage, begin to make a narrow vertical fissure in each side of the bed of coal, which they accomplish by means of an instrument called a pick; this done, they then make a similar excavation at the bottom, which has the effect of undermining the piece of coal, which being thus partially detached, is made to fall down in pieces, by firing a few shots simultaneously at the top of the seam. Masses of coal, of from sixty to eighty tons' weight, may be brought down at once in this way. This operation is repeated from time to time; and the coals, and accompanying stones and rubbish, thus hewn out of the bed, are put into large baskets, called corces, and conveyed on small carriages to the foot of the shaft of the mine; and thence drawn to the surface, or in mining language, to bank, by means of a steam-engine, or horse-gin, or capstan.

The reader will now imagine the miners to have proceeded some distance with the bords or passages above described, and that other bords have in the mean time been commenced, and are being driven in a parallel direction, at a distance of about eight yards from the first, and on each side of them. As the bords are proceeded with, narrow passages are driven between them, at regular intervals of eight or ten yards, and at right angles with them, so as to connect the main bords with each other. These cross passages are called headways. The squares or parallelograms of coal, formed by means of this series of bords and headways, are called pillars, and serve to support the superincumbent strata, and to prevent its falling in and suspending the operations, or endangering the lives of the miners. The main shaft is frequently sunk down to other seams of coal, which are worked precisely in the same way as the first one. In this case, besides

* Dictionary of Manufactures and Mines, vol. i. p. 830.

the main shaft, those different workings are made to communicate with each other by means of other shafts, called staples, which are sunk down at intervals between the seams of coal. Thus the reader will perceive, that in the course of time, the bords of the mine, increasing both in number and length, and a communication being kept up from time to time from one bord to another, by means of those transverse passages or headways, the workings begin very much to assume the appearance of a regularly built city or town-the bords, running parallel with each other, at a distance of eight yards asunder, forming so many main streets, and the headways the cross streets by which they communicate. The writer of this paper recently saw a beautiful model, exhibiting all the workings and ramifications of a coal-mine, in the museum of the Newcastle Literary and Philosophical Society. The persons employed in working a coal-mine encounter a variety of difficulties, dangers, and vicissitudes, which our limits will not permit of our noticing at length at present. The principal evil attending upon coal-mining, that arising from imperfect ventilation, we have already described in a recent number of this Journal.*

PEPITA, THE HEROINE.

[From the New York Mirror, January 25, 1840.] In the autumn of 1832, the Marquis de Bevenuccho, his daughter Francisca, Don Cæsar, his intended sonin-law, Pepita, Francisca's maid, and two male servants, occupied one of those huge coaches drawn by ten mules which are frequently to be met with on the road from Mexico to Vera Cruz. The destination of the party was Paris; the marquis was a widower, and Francisca was his only child. While the lumbering vehicle in which they started on their journey was descending one of the roughest defiles of the Pinol, a violent jerk put its construction to so severe a test as to threaten its entire ruin, unless repairs were immediately made. What was to be done? The coachman informed the travellers that they could reach, at a short distance from the spot, a posada, which, though not much frequented, and greatly dilapidated, was still habitable, and a place where they could pass the night. This plan was accordingly adopted, and the party, bemoaning their misfortune, reached the posada at the moment of sunset. It was a desolate habitation, surrounded by broken walls, ruined towers, and gloomy pines, which gave it the air of a chateau of romance. The marquis and his family took possession of a large chamber, Pepita rested as well as she could in a closet, and the servants, wrapped up in their cloaks, slept just where sleep happened to overtake them.

The heroine of our tale, Pepita, had some suspicions that all was not right. In passing before a grated window, which opened upon the court, she fancied she had caught a glimpse of two flashing eyes, which instantly disappeared; and this incident was sufficient to excite her apprehensions. She retired, however, into her cell, and placing her mantle under her head for a pillow, was about to close her eyes, when, casting them towards the ceiling of her little dormitory, she remarked a ray of light glimmering through the chinks of the wooden shutter. Using the utmost precaution, she raised herself upon a table, and half withdrawing a curtain which hung before a window, she saw two men sitting near a table, their faces turned from her, and lighted by a lamp which burned in the corner of the apartment. Pepita had enough of Spanish blood in her veins to give her great pretensions amongst her compatriots. She was intelligent, faithful, courageous, and as resolute as the maid of Saragossa.

With a glance she took note of all things in the chamber. It was impossible to mistake the profession of the men, for Pepita saw before them an open chest, which she recognised as belonging to the marquis, and from which the bandits had drawn out the provisions and plate it contained. Both appeared to have done honour to the marquis's wine, and were so much intoxicated that she felt no apprehension of being detected by them. Continuing to observe their movements with anxiety, she arranged the plan of operation which she determined to pursue. For a moment she felt herself chilled by terror, when the words which she heard informed her that the elder of the two was the famous Capador himself. She remembered at once carrying an axe; and the man before her had an axe that he was generally described as richly clothed, and resting between his legs, and wore a magnificently embroidered silk dress.

Pepita learned, or rather half guessed, from their broken conversation, that the band of which they were the leaders awaited in the forest for the signal which was to recall them; that this signal was to be given by a hunting-horn which she noticed in the apartment; and that, upon their junction, the travellers were to be attacked. With joy she saw the wine of the marquis was gradually gaining the mastery over them; and, soon after, observing them buried in profound slumber, she quitted her cell, descended into the court, found out the door of the robbers' chamber, and opening it softly, made good her entry with admirable courage and presence of mind. She gained possession of the cloak, hat, and well-known hatchet of the chief,

* Accidents in the Coal-mines of Northumberland and Durham,

No. 425.

and also of the hunting-horn, and contrived to effect her retreat without accident. She now fastened the doors of the bandits' apartment with the bolts which are often placed outside of the doors of Mexican houses, then flung over her the cloak of the brigand, placed his hat upon her head, and with the hatchet and hunting-horn in her hands, sallied from the court. The night was utterly dark. She reached the border of the pine-wood, and drawing a few low tones from the horn, was immediately answered by a prolonged whistle. A band of ten men issued from the woods: she retreated before them towards the house, contriving, with much address, to let herself be seen no more distinctly than was necessary to enable the robbers to follow her. When they were sufficiently near, she contrived to exhibit the glare of the axe; and enjoining silence with the motion of her hand, led the band into the court. In obedience to her sign, they entered silently into a large chamber, and closing the door upon them, she drew the bolts so gently that the bandits had no suspicion that they were imprisoned.

Then, without a moment's delay, the intrepid Pepita ran to the apartment of the marquis, and related to him the whole of her proceedings. Guided by the advice of Pepita, the marquis awakened Don Cæsar, who, mounted on one of the best mules, set off instantly for Acayete, to procure the assistance of a detachment of cavalry stationed in that village.

The marquis armed the two domestics, and, listening at the door of the apartment where the two chiefs were confined, ascertained that they had awakened, and were endeavouring to effect their escape. The scene now became one of intense anxiety. Shortly, all in the building were roused, and a confusion of voices arose on all sides. Gomez (the chief) and his lieutenant, uttered shouts of rage, and their appeals were answered by their companions as they exerted themselves to break the doors of their prison. The marquis, Pepita, and the servants, shouted likewise in every tone they could assume, threatening with death the first who should offer himself to their aim, and affecting to present a force far beyond their actual number. But we must leave the posada and its inhabitants for

a moment to follow the track of Don Cæsar.

This young man, one of the most brilliant among the cavaliers of Mexico, although skilful in the management of a well-trained steed, was but little accustomed to the government of a mule. He was in despair at the slowness of his progress, and overwhelmed with the most fearful presages. What would become of his friends-above all, of his betrothed, the pretty Francisca-if the brigands should escape from their confinement before his return? The day began to break before he could gain the environs of Acayete, but great was his joy when his ears were assailed by the bells of a conducta. Don Cæsar presented himself immediately before the commanding officer, told his story in a few words, and implored assistance. The officer and his men set off with him towards the hills, with all the rapidity the wild road would permit. Their expedition was not a little increased by the hope of capturing Gomez, on whose head a price was set, and who had hitherto baffled all the schemes laid to surprise him.

During this time, affairs at the posada had reached their most critical point. The robbers had succeeded in shattering the door of their prison so far that it was scarcely held by its hinges. Gomez and his lieutenant had taken the same course, and there was every prospect that the brigands would overcome all the obstacles which had opposed their liberation, when Pepita, armed with a pistol, and concealed behind a pillar in the court, took successful aim at the head of a brigand which showed through the opening. This incident

daunted the robbers. It was evident that one of their leaders had fallen, from the deep silence that prevailed. Convinced, however, that they had no time to lose, they once more returned to their attack. The door was on the point of yielding to their blows, when Pepita caught the sound of the galloping of horses on the road from Acayete. Deliverance was now sure. The noise of horses and arms resounded soon in front of the posada, and before Don Cæsar had embraced Francisca, the soldiers had made themselves unresisted masters of the band of robbers.

But it remained to secure Gomez and his lieutenant. From the desperate character of the man, it was not supposed he would allow himself to be taken without resistance. It was proposed by some to force the door and enter in a body, while others desired to try the effect of a parley. This latter advice was followed, it being wished, above all things, to deliver him into the hands of the Mexican authorities.

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Open the door to the lieutenant of the republic," withdrawing the outer bolts, that the door was fascried the commanding officer; for it was found, on tened within.

No answer was given.

At this moment the discharge of a pistol resounded from the interior. It was followed by the faint cry of a woman, which seemed to issue from the apartment where the marquis had passed the night. All hastened in an instant in that direction, and in her closet they found the intrepid Pepita bathed in her own blood. But when they approached her, she had strength to point with her finger to the little window. The officer raised his eyes, and perceived there Gomez and his lieutenant, the former armed with a sword, and the latter reloading his pistol. In an instant he fired on the lieutenant, who fell; and, regaining the

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