THE DESERT OF JERICHO. of that day lived sumptuously on thirty rupees a-month, The desert is an immense plain, with several elevations, spreading no other carpeting on their sabine floors which sink successively, as far as the river Jordan, by than a coating of fresh cow-dung, asking no other light regular gradations, like the steps of a natural staircase. whereby to read their dispatches than what was adThe eye can distinguish only one complete plain; but mitted through oyster-shell windows, and enjoying no after marching an hour, we come all at once on one of other luxury than a healthy shaking in a homely but these terraces, which we descend by a rapid slope, and neatly curtained bullock-hackery. But times are altered, march another hour, when there is a fresh descent, and and it is now the capital of Western India, the third in thus the whole way. The soil is a white compact sand, the scale of rank and seniority in the eastern empire. covered by a concrete and saline crust, produced doubt. Its increase of population has kept pace with its politiless by the fogs from the Dead Sea, which, on their cal and commercial advancement. While neighbouring evaporation, deposit this salt crust. There is no stone cities waned in consequence and wealth, Bombay proor earth, except on approaching the river or the moungressed in both, and attracted to itself, as to a focus of tains; there is, on all sides, a vast horizon; and we speculation or employment, the adventurous, the indistinguished, from an immense distance, an Arab gal- dustrious, and the needy. The transfer of the Presiloping over the plain. As this desert is the theatre of dency from Surat, and its decline in trade, brought their attacking, pillaging, and massacring the caravans Parsees, Banyans, and Boras. The overthrow of Tip-| going from Jerusalem to Damascus, or from Mesopo-poo's power, the capture of the Dutch settlements, and tamia to Egypt, the Arabs take advantage of some dethe decline of the Portuguese, produced a similar influx tached hills formed by the moving sand, and have also from the south. Goa, Cochin, and every other part on erected artificial ones, to hide themselves from the obthe western coast, sent respectively Sinoys and Malpas, servation of the caravans, and to descry them from Malabar, Dutch, and Portuguese Christians. The downafar; they hollow out the sand on the summit of these fall of the Peshwa, and the breaking up of the great hills, and there burrow with their horses. As soon as Mahratta courts and armies, thronged the place with they perceive their prey, they dart with the rapidity of Brahmins and upland peasants, men of the sword and the falcon; they go to apprise their tribe, and return of the pen. The trade in pearls and carpets brought all together to the attack. Such is their only industrial Jews and Armenians, and the demand for the beautiful occupation, such their only glory; civilisation with them Arabian horse lured to its shores a dense population is murder and pillage, and they attach as much import of the graceful and effeminate Persian, the small and altogether new, presenting alternately the physiognomy ance to their successes in this species of exploit, as our conquerors to the acquisition of a province. Their piercing features of the Arab, and the wild swarthy poets, for they have poets, celebrate in their verses and hairy-looking visages of Caubul Candaur, or Kurthese scenes of barbarity, and deliver down, from genedistan. The partial opening of the trade, the profits ration to generation, the honoured memory of their of the opium speculations, and the accession of terricourage and their crimes. The horses have a consi- tory which followed the success of arms in 1816, nearly derable share of the glory assigned them in these re- quadrupled the number of British inhabitants. Add citals: here is one, which the scheik's son related to to the above, Italian and American missionaries, traus on the way :vellers, experimentalists, and professional men from "An arab and his tribe had attacked in the desert the continent of Europe; persecuted Christians from the caravan of Damascus; the victory was complete, Georgia; ruined families from Cashmere, Polish counts, and the Arabs were already occupied in loading their Dutch barons, Malays, sailors, negro-servants, Macao rich booty, when the troops of the Pacha of Acre, comtraders, Brazil merchants, Canton shoemakers, Pekin ing to meet this caravan, fell suddenly upon the victo-sausage-makers, bakers, Bhya hamauls, Camatee Churious Arabs, slew a great number of them, made the remainder prisoners, and, having tied them with cords, conducted them to Acre to present them before the pacha. Abou-el-Marsch, the Arab of whom he spoke, had received a ball in his arm during the combat; as his wound was not mortal, the Turks had fastened him on a camel, and having obtained possession of his horse, led off both horse and horseman. The evening before which they were to enter Acre, they encamped with their prisoners in the mountains of Saphad; the wounded Arab had his legs bound together by a leathern thong, and was stretched near the tent where the Turks were sleeping. During the night, kept awake by the pain of his wound, he heard his horse neigh amongst the other horses fastened around the tents according to oriental usage. He recognised his neigh, and, unable to resist the desire of speaking once more to the companion of his life, he dragged himself with difficulty along the ground, by the assistance of his hands and knees, and came up to his courser. Poor friend,' said he to it, what wilt thou do amongst the Turks? Thou wilt be immured under the arches of a khan, with the horses of an aga or of a pacha; the women and the children will no longer bring thee the camel's milk, or the barley, or the doura in the hollow of their hands; thou wilt no longer run free in the desert, as the wind of Egypt; thou wilt no more divide the waters of the Jordan with thy breast, and cool thy skin, as white as their foam: therefore, if I remain a slave, remain thou free !-go, return to the tent which thou knowest; say to my wife that Abou-el-Marsch will return no more, and put thy head under the curtains of the tent to lick the hands of my little children.' Whilst speaking thus, Abou-elMarsch had gnawed through with his teeth the cord of goat-hair which fetters Arab horses, and the animal was free; but seeing its master wounded and bound at its feet, the faithful and sagacious steed understood by instinct what no language could explain to him. He stooped his head, smelt his master, and, seizing him with his teeth by the leathern thong which he had about his body, went off in a gallop and bore him to his tent. On arriving and placing his master on the sand, at the feet of his wife and children, the horse expired from fatigue. All the tribe wept for him, the poets have celebrated him, and his name is constantly in the mouths of the Arabs of Jericho."-Lamartine's Travels in the East. FORMER AND PRESENT STATE OF BOMBAY. A few centuries since, this island was a mere settlement of gardeners and bhundaries, known only for the arrack and cocoa-nut oil, which, in common with other palm-clad ccasts, it transmitted to the interior, and for the flower of its Mazagong mangoes, of which it sent a yearly tribute to the court of Delhi. Even little more than half a century ago, though a fortified settlement of some consequence, it was insignificant in comparison with what it is at the present day; the whole population of the place did not amount to above sixty thousand inhabitants, consisting entirely of a few tribes of Hindoos and Hindoo Portuguese. The island was constantly ravaged by Angria, and other Mahratta pirates, as far as Byeullah. The grand jury consisted of Portuguese fuzendars from Mahim, who took their seats with bare legs and shaven heads, while their sons officered the defensive militia, and figured on the parades in caps of congeed cotton. The few civil servants treewalas, together with a long string of gipsies, tum- A CHILD CARRIED OFF BY AN EAGLE. An infant, in the care of Charley Stewart, a boy ten at once satisfied that it would be worse than hazardous kissed his little favourite over and over again, and then he proceeded to tie the rope around and across her, so as to guard against all possibility of its slipping. Having accomplished this, he shouted to Peter to pull away-kissed the little Rosa once more, and then committed her to the vacant air. Nothing could equal the anxiety he endured whilst he beheld her slowly rising upwards. And when he beheld the mother's hands appear over the edge of the rock, and snatch her from his sight, nothing could match the shout of delight which he gave. The maternal screams of joy which followed, and which came faintly down to his ears, were to him a full reward for all the terrors of his desperate enterprise. For that instant he forgot the perilous situation in which he then stood, and the risk that he had yet to run ere he could hope to be extricated from it.-Sir Thomes Dick Lauder's Tales of the Highlands. THE LEISURE OF THE WORKING-CLASSES. [From an Address of the Rev. Archibald Bennie, at the open ing of the Edinburgh School of Arts, Oct. 28, 1840.] There is no such thing as absolute mental idleness. If the mind be not active for good, it is active for evil. It may not be rightly directed, or vigorously exercised, or subject to any method in its efforts; but it will be busied about something, obeying the impulse of some predominant desire, or pursuing some familiar and favourite current of thought. No man of regular and circumstances are not suitable, and will be shunned. steady mental habits will go and stand on the street. The Here lies the great mischief of idleness. The mind is left open by it to every passing impression and accidental impulse. It is precisely in the state in which temptation can bear most successfully upon it. It is standing in the market, ready for the call of the vices; and it will not remain long without a call. It is heartbreaking to think what multitudes of the young there are who are hurried into vices of various kinds early dissipation, with its dark and numerous train of sins. Self-murderers are they in the most fearful sense of the appalling name. Let no one for a moment suppose that, in appealing thus strongly, we would deny the working man a single rational comfort or pleasure. I have the most intense abhorrence of all those measures When he and schemes, whether legislative or otherwise, which THE CHILD A MORAL INSTRUCTOR. A child is a moral instructor, and the silent lessons it inculcates are felt by the most vitiated and depraved. The value of the sermons preached by the cradle has never been fully estimated; but those who have visited our prisons, and who have had to deal with the most hardened criminals, know that there is a well-spring of affection in a father's heart, which even the fires of the worst guilt have not dried up; and the name of a child, like the wand of the prophet, has drawn living waters from the flinty rock. Home itself is a school; * it nourishes principles of the highest value in human life: every emotion of love, felt or received, is a part of education which cannot safely be disregarded. So far, then, as is possible, no system of education should totally separate families, or supersede the arrangements of domestic life. Except in very desperate cases, the interchange of affectionate communications between fathers, mothers, children, brothers, and sisters, every morning and evening, is of inestimable importance to morality. Cases have come under the personal cognisance of the writer, where parents, vicious but not wholly depraved, have been induced to commence a career of reform by witnessing the gradual improvement of their children. gress, and saw them undesignedly revealing the dawnAs they witnessed their proings of intelligence, and the development of moral principles in their little minds, they became more and more attached to them, and unconsciously took those for their examples to whom nature had designed that they should be models themselves. It should, therefore, be a principle in education to keep the bonds of family unbroken.-Taylor's Natural History of Society. LONDON: Published, with permission of the proprietors, by W. S. ORR, Paternoster Row. Printed by Bradbury and Evans, Whitefriars. CONDUCTED BY WILLIAM AND ROBERT CHAMBERS, EDITORS OF "CHAMBERS'S INFORMATION FOR THE PEOPLE," A LEGEND OF KNOCKMARY.* WHAT Irish man, woman, or child, has not heard of our renowned Hibernian Hercules, the great and glorious Fin M'Coul! Not one, from Cape Clear to the Giant's Causeway, nor from that back again to Cape Clear. And by the way, speaking of the Giant's Causeway brings me at once to the beginning of my story. Well, it so happened that Fin and his gigantic relatives were all working at the Causeway, in order to make a bridge, or what was still better, a good stout pad-road, across to Scotland; when Fin, who was very fond of his wife Oonagh, took it into his head that he would go home and see how the poor woman got on in his absence. To be sure, Fin was a true Irishman, and so the sorrow thing in life brought him back, only to see that she was snug and comfortable, and, above all things, that she got her rest well at night; for he knew that the poor woman, when he was with her, used to be subject to nightly qualms and configurations, that kept him very anxious, decent man, striving to keep her up to the good spirits and health that she had when they were first married. So, accordingly, he pulled up a fir-tree, and, after lopping off the roots and branches, made a walking-stick of it, and set out on his way to Oonagh. Oonagh, or rather Fin, lived at this time on tl.e very tip-top of Knockmary Hill, which faces a cousin of its own, called Cullamore, that rises up, half-hill, *The above paper, communicated by William Carleton, Esq., author of the "Traits and Stories of the Irish Peasantry," gives a good idea of the strange hues which the national humour and fancy have thrown over most of the early popular legends of Ireland. Fin or Fion M'Coul is the same half-mythic being who figures as Fingal in Macpherson's Ossian's Poems. He was probably a distinguished warrior in some early stage of the history of Ireland; different authorities place him in the fifth and the ninth centuries. Whatever his real age, and whatever his real qualities, he was afterwards looked back to as a giant of immense size and strength, and became the subject of numerous wild and warlike legends both in Ireland and in the Highlands of Scotland. Our Lowland poets of the middle ages give incontestible evidence of the great fame then enjoyed by both Fingal and Gaul the son of Morni. Barbour, for instance, in 1375, represents his hero Robert Bruce as making allusion to these two personages at the skirmish in Glendochart. Gavin Douglas, half-mountain, on the opposite side-east-east by south, as the sailors say, when they wish to puzzle a lands man. Now, the truth is, for it must come out, that honest Fin's affection for his wife, though cordial enough in itself, was by no manner or means the real cause of his journey home. There was at that time another giant, named Cucullin-some say he was Irish, and some say he was Scotch-but whether Scotch or Irish, sorrow doubt of it but he was a targer. No other giant of the day could stand before him; and such was his strength, that, when well vexed, he could give a stamp that shook the country about him. The fame and name of him went far and near; and nothing in the shape of a man, it was said, had any chance with him in a fight. Whether the story is true or not, I cannot say, but the report went that, by one blow of his fist, he flattened a thunderbolt and kept it in his pocket, in the shape of a pancake, to show to all his enemies when they were about to fight him. Undoubtedly he had given every giant in Ireland a considerable beating, barring Fin M'Coul himself; and he swore, by the solemn contents of Moll Kelly's Primer, that he would never rest, night or day, winter or summer, till he would serve Fin with the same sauce, if he could catch him. Fin, however, who no doubt was the cock of the walk on his own dunghill, had a strong disinclination to meet a giant who could make a young earthquake, or flatten a thunderbolt when he was angry; so he accordingly kept dodging about from place to place, not much to his credit as a Trojan, to be sure, whenever he happened to get the hard word that Cucullin was on the scent of him. This, then, was the marrow of the whole movement, although he put it on his anxiety to see Oonagh; and I am not saying but there was some truth in that too. However, the short and the long of it was, with reverence be it spoken, that he heard Cucullin was coming to the Causeway to have a trial of strength with him; and he was naturally enough seized, in consequence, with a very warm and sudden fit of affection for his wife, poor woman, who was delicate in her health, and leading, besides, a very lonely uncomfortable life of it (he assured them), in his absence. He accordingly who died in 1522, introduces their names into his poem, the pulled up the fir-tree, as I said before, and having snedded it into a walking-stick, set out on his affectionate travels to see his darling Oonagh on the top of Knockmary, by the way. In truth, to state the suspicions of the country at the time, the people wondered very much why it was that Fin selected such a windy spot for his dwellinghouse, and they even went so far as to tell him as much. "What can you mane, Mr M'Coul," said they, "by pitching your tent upon the top of Knockmary, where you never are without a breeze, day or night, winter or summer, and where you're often forced to take your nightcap without either going to bed or turning up your little finger; ay, an' where, besides this, the sorrow's own want of water?" "Why," said Fin, "ever since I was the height of a round tower, I was known to be fond of having a good prospect of my own; and where the dickens, neighbours, could I find a better spot for a good prospect than the top of Knockmary? As for water, I am present sketch, Fin and his dame are kept within something sinking a pump,t and, plase goodness, as soon as the Wad not be till her leg a garten, Though she was young and tender. In Irish traditionary narrative, as appears from Mr Carleton's causeway's made, I intend to finish it." * A common name for the cloud or rack that hangs, as a forerunner of wet weather, about the peak of a mountain. †There is upon the top of this hill an opening that bears a very strong resemblance to the crater of an extinct volcano. There is also a stone, upon which I have heard the Rev. Sidney Smith, PRICE THREE HALFPENCE. Now, this was more of Fin's philosophy; for the real state of the case was, that he pitched upon the top of Knockmary in order that he might be able to see Cucullin coming towards the house, and, of course, that he himself might go to look after his distant transactions in other parts of the country, rather than-but no matter we do not wish to be too hard on Fin. All we have to say is, that if he wanted a spot from which to keep a sharp look-out-and, between ourselves, he did want it grievously-barring Slieve Croob, or Slieve Donan, or its own cousin, Cullamore, he could not find a neater or more convenient situation for it in the sweet and sagacious province of Ulster. "God save all here!" said Fin, good humouredly, on putting his honest face into his own door. "Musha Fin, avick, an' you're welcome home to your own Oonagh, you darlin' bully." Here followed a smack that is said to have made the waters of the lake at the bottom of the hill curl, as it were, with kindness and sympathy. "Faith," said Fin, "beautiful; an' how are you, Oonagh-and how did you sport your figure during my absence, my bilberry?" "Never a merrier-as bouncing a glass widow as ever there was in sweet Tyrone among the bushes."" Fin gave a short good-humoured cough, and laughed most heartily, to show her how much he was delighted that she made herself happy in his absence. "An' what brought you home so soon, Fin?" said she. "Why, avourneen," said Fin, putting in his answer in the proper way, "never the thing but the purest of love and affection for yourself. Sure you know that's truth, any how, Oonagh." Fin spent two or three happy days with Oonagh, and felt himself very comfortable, considering the dread he had of Cucullin. This, however, grew upon him so much that his wife could not but perceive that something lay on his mind which he kept altogether to himself. Let a woman alone, in the mean time, for ferreting or wheedling a secret out of her goodman, when she wishes. Fin was a proof of this. "It's this Cucullin," said he, "that's troubling me. When the fellow gets angry, and begins to stamp, he'll shake you a whole townland; and it's well known that he can stop a thunderbolt, for he always carries one about him in the shape of a pancake, to show to any one that might misdoubt it." As he spoke, he clapped his thumb in his mouth, which he always did when he wanted to prophesy, or to know any thing that happened in his absence; and the wife, who knew not what he did it for, said, very sweetly, "Fin, darling, I hope you don't bite your thumb at me, dear?" "No," said Fin; "but I bite my thumb, acushla," said he. "Yes, jewel; but take care and don't draw blood," said she. "Ah, Fin, don't, my bully-don't." "He's coming," said Fin; "I see him below Dungannon." "Thank goodness, dear! an' who is it, avick? Glory be to God!" "That baste Cucullin," replied Fin; "and how to manage I don't know. If I run away, I am disgraced; and I know that sooner or later I must meet him, for my thumb tells me so." "When will he be here?" said she. F.T.C., now rector of the adjoining parish, say that he found Ogham characters; and, if I do not mistake, I think he took a fao-simile of them. "To-morrow, about two o'clock,” replied Fin, with a groan. 66 Well, my bully, don't be cast down," said Oonagh; depend on me, and maybe I'll bring you better out of this scrape than ever you could bring yourself, by your rule o' thumb." This quieted Fin's heart very much, for he knew that Oonagh was hand and glove with the fairies; and, indeed, to tell the truth, she was supposed to be a fairy herself. If she was, however, she must have been a kind-hearted one; for, by all accounts, she never did any thing but good in the neighbourhood. Now, it so happened that Oonagh had a sister named Granua living opposite them, on the very top of Cullamore, which I have mentioned already, and this Granua was quite as powerful as herself. The beautiful valley that lies between them is not more than about five miles broad, so that of a summer's evening Granua and Oonagh were able to hold many an agreeable conversation across it, from the one hill-top to the other. Upon this occasion, Oonagh resolved to consult her sister as to what was best to be done in the difficulty that surrounded them. "Granua," said she, "are you at home?" "No," said the other; "I'm picking bilberries in Althadhawan" (Anglicé, the Devil's Glen). "Well," said Oonagh, "get up to the top of Cullamore, look about you, and then tell us what you see." "Very well," replied Granua, after a few minutes, "I am there now." "What do you see?" asked the other. "Goodness be about us!" exclaimed Granua, “I see the biggest giant that ever was known, coming up from Dungannon." "Ay," said Oonagh, "there's our difficulty. That giant is the great Cucullin; and he's now comin' up to lather Fin. What's to be done?" "I'll call to him," she replied, "to come up to Cullamore, and refresh himself, and maybe that will give you and Fin time to think of some plan to get your selves out of the scrape. But," she proceeded, "I'm short of butter, having in the house only half a dozen firkins, and I'd feel thankful, Oonagh, if you'd throw me up the largest miscaun you have got; for, to tell you the truth, that same Cucullin is easier kept a week than a fortnight." "I'll do that with a heart and a half," replied Oonagh; "and, indeed, Granua, I feel myself under great obligations to you for your kindness in keeping him off of us, till we see what can be done; for what would become of us all if any thing happened Fin, poor man?" She accordingly got the largest miscaun of butter she had-which might be about the weight of a couple dozen millstones, so that you may easily judge of its size-and calling up to her sister, "Granua," said she, are you ready? I'm going to throw you up a miscaun, so be prepared to catch it." "I will," said the other; "a good throw now, and take care it does not fall short." Oonagh threw it; but in consequence of her anxiety about Fin and Cucullin, she forgot to say the charm that was to send it up, so that, instead of reaching Cullamore, as she expected, it fell about half way between the two hills, at the edge of the broad bog near Augher. "My curse upon you !" she exclaimed ; " you've disgraced me. I now change you into a grey stone. Lie there as a testimony of what has happened; and may evil betide the first living man that will ever attempt to remove or injure you !" And, sure enough, there it lies to this day, with the mark of the four fingers and thumb imprinted in it, exactly as it came out of her hand. "Never mind," said Granua; "I must only do the best I can with Cucullin. If all fail, I'll give him a cast of heather broth to keep the wind out of his stomach, or a panada of oak-bark to draw it in a bit; but, above all things, think of some plan to get Fin out of the scrape he's in, otherwise he's a lost man. You know you used to be sharp and ready-witted; and my own opinion, Oonagh, is, that it will go hard with you, or you'll outdo Cucullin yet." She then made a high smoke on the top of the hill, after which she put her finger in her mouth, and gave three whistles, and by that Cucullin knew he was invited to Cullamore-for this was the way that the Irish long ago gave a sign to all strangers and travellers, to let them know they were welcome to come and take share of whatever was going. In the mean time Fin was very melancholy, and did not know what to de, or how to act at all. Cucullin was an ugly customer, Lo doubt, to meet with; and, moreover, the idea of the confounded "cake" aforesaid, flattened the very heart within him. What chance could he have, strong and brave though he was, with a man who could, when put into a passion, walk the country into earthquakes and knock thunderbolts into pancakes? The thing was impossible; and Fin knew not on what hand to turn him. Right or left backward or forward-where to go he could form no guess whatsoever. "Oonagh," said he, can you do nothing for me? Where's all your invention? Am I to be skivered like a rabbit before your eyes, and to have my name disgraced for ever in the sight of all my tribe, and me the best man among them? How am I to fight this man-mountain-this huge cross between an earthquake and a thunderbolt?—with a pancake in his pocket that was once" "Be easy, Fin," replied Oonagh; "troth, I'm ashamed of you. Keep your toe in your pump, will you? Talking of pancakes, maybe we'll give him as good as any he brings with him-thunderbolt or otherwise. If I don't treat him to as smart feeding as he's got this many a day, never trust Oonagh again. Leave him to me, and do you just as I bid you." This relieved Fin very much; for, after all, he had great confidence in his wife, knowing, as he did, that she had got him out of many a quandary before. The present, however, was the greatest of all; but still he began to get courage, and was able to eat his victuals as usual. Oonagh then drew the nine woollen threads of different colours, which she always did to find out the best way of succeeding in any thing of importance she went about. She then platted them into three plats with three colours in each, putting one on her right arm, one round her heart, and the third round her right ankle, for then she knew that nothing could fail with her that she undertook. Having every thing now prepared, she sent round to the neighbours and borrowed one-and-twenty iron griddles, which she took and put into one-and-twenty cakes of bread, and these she baked on the fire in the usual way, setting them aside in the cupboard according as they were done. She then put down a large pot of new milk, which she made into curds and whey, and gave Fin due instructions how to use the curds when Cucullin should come. Having done all this, she sat down quite contented, waiting for his arrival on the next day about two o'clock, that being the hour at which he was expected-for Fin knew as much by the sucking of his thumb. Now, this was a curious property that Fin's thumb had; but, notwithstanding all the wisdom and logic he used to suck out of it, it could never have stood to him here were it not for the wit of his wife. In this very thing, moreover, he was very much resembled by his great foe Cucullin; for it was well known that the huge strength he possessed all lay in the middle finger of his right hand, and that, if he happened by any mischance to lose it, he was no more, notwithstanding his bulk, than a common man. At length, the next day, he was seen coming across the valley, and Oonagh knew that it was time to commence operations. She immediately made the cradle, and desired Fin to lie down in it, and cover himself up with the clothes. below, and it was his intention to pull them asunder; but having heard of you, he left the place in such a fury, that he never thought of it. Now, if you try to find it, troth I'd feel it a kindness." She then brought Cucullin down to see the place, which was then all one solid rock; and, after looking at it for some time, he cracked his right middle finger nine times, and, stooping down, tore a cleft about two hundred feet deep, and a quarter of a mile in length, which has since been christened by the name of Lumford's Glen. This feat nearly threw Oonagh herself off her guard; but what won't a woman's sagacity and presence of mind accomplish? "You'll now come in," said she, "and eat a bit of such humble fare as we can give you. Fin, even although he and you are enemies, would scorn not to treat you kindly in his own house; and, indeed, if I didn't do it even in his absence, he would not be pleased with me.” She accordingly brought him in, and placing half a dozen of the cakes we spoke of before him, together with a can or two of butter, a side of boiled bacon, and a stalk of cabbage, she desired him to help himself-for this, be it known, was long before the invention of potatoes. Cucullin, who, by the way, was a glutton as well as a hero, put one of the cakes in his mouth to take a huge whack out of it, when both Fin and Oonagh were stunned with a noise that resembled something between a growl and a yell. "Fury!" he shouted; "how is this? Here are two of my teeth out! What kind of bread is this you gave me " "What's the matter?" said Oonagh coolly. "Matter!" shouted the other again; “why, here are the two best teeth in my head gone!" "Why," said she, "that's Fin's bread, the only bread he ever eats when at home; but, indeed, 1 forgot to tell you that nobody can eat it but himself, and that child in the cradle there. I thought, however, that, as you were reported to be rather a stout little fellow of your size, you might be able to manage it, and I did not wish to affront a man that thinks himself able to fight Fin. Here's another cake, maybe it's not so hard as that." Cucullin at the moment was not only hungry but ravenous, so he accordingly made a fresh set at the second cake, and immediately another yell was heard twice as loud as the first. Thunder and giblets!" he roared, "take your bread out of this, or I will not have a tooth in my head; there's another pair of them gone!" "You must pass for your own child," said she; SO just lie there snug and say nothing, but be guided by me." This, to be sure, was wormwood to Fin-I mean going into the cradle in such a cowardly man- "Well, honest man," replied Oonagh, "if you're ner-but he knew Oonagh well; and finding that he not able to eat the bread, say so quietly, and don't be had nothing else for it, with a very rueful face he ga-wakening the child in the cradle there. There, now, thered himself into it, and lay snug as she had desired he's awake upon me." him. About two o'clock, as he had been expected, Cucullin came in. "God save all here!" said he; "is this where the great Fin M'Coul lives?" "Indeed it is, honest man," replied Oonagh; "God save you kindly-won't you be sitting?" "Thank you, ma'am," says he, sitting down; "you're Mrs M'Coul, I suppose?" "I am," said she; " and I have no reason, I hope, to be ashamed of my husband." "No," said the other; "he has the name of being the strongest and bravest man in Ireland; but for all that, there's a man not far from you that's very desirous of taking a shake with him. Is he at home?" "Why, then, no," she replied; " and if ever a man left his house in a fury, he did. It appears that some one told him of a big basthoon of a giant called Cucullin being down at the Causeway to look for him; and so he set out there to try if he could catch him. Troth, I hope, for the poor giant's sake, he won't meet with him, for if he does, Fin will make paste of him at once." "Well," said the other, "I am Cucullin, and I have been seeking him these twelvemonths, but he always kept clear of me; and I will never rest night or day till I lay my hands on him." At this Oonagh set up a loud laugh, of great contempt, by the way, and looked at him as if he was only a mere handful of a man. "Did you ever see Fin?" said she, changing her manner all at once. "How could I?" said he; "he always took care to keep his distance." "I thought so," she replied; "I judged as much; and if you take my advice, you poor-looking creature, you'll pray night and day that you may never see him, for I tell you it will be a black day for you when you do. But, in the mean time, you perceive that the wind's on the door, and as Fin himself is from home, maybe you'd be civil enough to turn the house, for it's always what Fin does when he's here." This was a startler even to Cucullin; but he got up, however, and after pulling the middle finger of his right hand until it cracked three times, he went outside, and getting his arms about the house, completely turned it as she had wished. When Fin saw this, he felt a certain description of moisture, which shall be nameless, oozing out through every pore of his skin; but Oonagh, depending upon her woman's wit, felt not a whit daunted. "Arrah, then," said she, " as you are so civil, may be you'd do another obliging turn for us, as Fin's not here to do it himself. You see, after this long stretch of dry weather we've had, we feel very badly off for want of water. Now, Fin says there's a fine spring well somewhere under the rocks behind the hill here Fin now gave a skirl that startled the giant, as coming from such a youngster as he was represented to be. "Mother," said he, "I'm hungry; get me something to eat." Oonagh went over, and putting into his hand a cake that had no griddle in it, Fin, whose appetite in the mean time was sharpened by what he saw going forward, soon made it disappear. Cucullin was thunderstruck, and secretly thanked his stars that he had the good fortune to miss meeting with Fin, for, as he said to himself, I'd have no chance with a man who could eat such bread as that, which even his son that's but in his cradle can munch before my eyes. I'd like to take a glimpse at the lad in the cradle," said he to Oonagh; "for I can tell you that the infant who can manage that nutriment is no joke to look at, or to feed with of a scarce summer." "With all the veins of my heart," replied Oonagh. "Get up, acushla, and show this decent little man something that won't be unworthy of your father, Fin M'Coul." Fin, who was dressed for the occasion as much like a boy as possible, got up, and bringing Cucullin out"Are you strong?" said he. "Thunder an' ounds!" exclaimed the other, "what a voice in so small a chap!" “Are you strong?" said Fin again; "are you able to squeeze water out of that white stone?" he asked, putting one into Cucullin's hand. The latter squeezed and squeezed the stone, but to no purpose; he might pull the rocks of Lumford's Glen asunder, and flatten a thunderbolt, but to squeeze water out of a white stone was beyond his strength. Fin eyed him with great contempt, as he kept straining and squeezing, and squeezing and straining, till he got black in the face with the efforts. "Ah, you're a poor creature!" said Fin. "You a giant! Give me the stone here, and when I'll show what Fin's little son can do, you may then judge of what my daddy himself is." Fin then took the stone, and slily exchanging it for the curds, he squeezed the latter until the whey, as clear as water, oozed out in a little shower from his hand. "I'll now go in," said he, " to my cradle; for I'd scorn to lose my time with any one that's not able to eat my daddy's bread, or squeeze water out of a stone. Bedad, you had better be off out of this before my daddy comes back; for if he catches you, it's in paste he'd have you in two minutes." Cucullin, seeing what he had seen, was of the same opinion himself; his knees knocked together with the terror of Fin's return, and he accordingly hastened in to bid Oonagh farewell, and to assure her, that from that day out, he never wished to hear of, much less to see, her husband. "I admit fairly that I'm not a match for him," said he, "strong as I am; tell him I will avoid him as I would the plague, and that I will make myself scarce in this part of the country while I live." Fin, in the mean time, had gone into the cradle, where he lay very quietly, his heart at his mouth with delight that Cucullin was about to take his departure without discovering the tricks that had been played off on him. "It's well for you," said Oonagh, "that he doesn't happen to be here, for it's nothing but hawk's meat or flummery he'd make of you." "I know that," says Cucullin; "not a thing else he'd make of me; but before I go, will you let me feel what kind of teeth they are that can eat griddle bread like that"- and he pointed to it as he spoke. "With all pleasure in life," said she; "only, as they're far back in his head, you must put your finger a good way in.” Cucullin was surprised to find such a powerful set of grinders in one so young; but he was still much more so on finding, when he took his hand from Fin's mouth, that he had left the very finger upon which his whole strength depended behind him. He gave one loud groan, and fell down at once with terror and weakness. This was all Fin wanted, who now knew that his most powerful and bitterest enemy was completely at his mercy. He instantly started out of the cradle, and in a few minutes the great Cucullin, that was for such a length of time the terror of him and all his followers, lay a corpse before him. Thus did Fin, through the wit and invention of Oonagh, his wife, succeed in overcoming his enemy by stratagem, which he never could have done by force; and thus also is it proved that the women, if they bring us into many an unpleasant scrape, can sometimes succeed in getting us out of others that are as bad.* COMPANION TO THE ALMANAC FOR 1841. First, let pieces of two shillings each be coined, with a distinct name, and let no more half-crowns nor crowns be issued, either from the Mint or the Bank. The old crowns and half-crowns would thus be gradually withdrawn from circulation, and by what we have called the royal, the first step towards the decimal division would be established. This first step having been made, no other need be taken until the new coin has become familiar, which would require perhaps a couple of years. The next process must be, to issue copper or mixed coins of 24d. each. These should be made so portable as to be convenient, which might easily be attained, as in the small French pieces of two sous each, for instance. This coin of 24d. would in the end stand for what we have called the new groat; that is, would count as 2d. 4-10ths of the old money. This alteration of four per cent. in the value of a copper coin would be of no consequence whatever, since the daily fluctuations in the price of copper amount to much more. But no pence or halfpence should be withdrawn from circulation, nor any reference made to the new system, in the first issue of groats. These new coins would be immediately nicknamed copper half-crowns, which would assist the comprehension of them materially, accustomed as persons are already to 24 in shillings, by means of the silver half-crown. Since 10 of these new groats would make 2s. 1d., they would immediately be reckoned as having the value of five to the shilling, in all purchases of three shillings or upwards, when change is given. Articles would be priced in shillings and groats; and in all large transactions it would become customary to keep accounts in royals and groats, neglecting the fractions of the latter. Thus, L.1783 would stand for 17 pounds, 8 royals (16 shillings), and 3 groats. And those who were more particular would drop the penny, and divide the groat into five halfpence, or even into ten farthings, which would complete the decimal system. However this might be, it is clear crown) continued in existence, with the royal of two that while all the present coinage (except the halfshillings and the groat of 24d. superadded, those who liked would have the means of introducing the decimal system into their accounts; while those who did not, would be able to retain the old one. THE "Companion to the Almanac," for 1841, published under the superintendence of the Society for Diffusing Useful Knowledge, contains the usual variety of general information on subjects engrossing public attention, or connected with the calendar and natural phenomena of the year, and likewise abstracts of the more important acts of Parliament passed in the groat, which would never differ practically from The last step would be to coin farthings of ten to 1840. A work so comprehensive and serviceable cannot fail to meet with due encouragement, if fairly the common farthings. The only positive measure brought under public attention, which we now pro-would be to enact that five groats should be a legal now requisite to make the system perfectly decimal, pose to aid in doing. tender for one shilling, and ten groats for two shillings; and this would practically be true previous to the enactment. The money used in accounts would now be 1 Pound. 10 1 Royal. 100 10 10 farthings are 1 groat. 10 groats are 1 royal. 10 royals are 1 pound or sovereign. The first paper in the book is a contribution from Mr Augustus De Morgan, professor of mathematics in University College, London, and who is reckoned one of the most profound arithmeticians of the age. He proposes, in the paper before us, to introduce the use of logarithms into common arithmetical computations, and offers a number of examples of the facility with which logarithmic methods may be ap1 Groat. plied. Valuable as such an improvement would be in some respects, particularly when fractions require 1000 100 10 1 | Farthing. specification, it appears, from his showing, that our The coins in use would be-the farthing, the halfirregular progression in reckoning money-as 4 farthings one penny, 12 pence one shilling, and 20 shil-penny, penny, groat, sixpence, shilling, royal, halflings one pound-presents a serious obstacle to the pence were gradually withdrawn, the only new rule sovereign, and sovereign. Before the half-pence and use of logarithms on any thing like a simple plan. relative to an old coin would be, that the silver sixThe remedy which he proposes establishing is a purely pence would be sixpence farthing in copper, and the decimal coinage, that is, a reckoning progressively by silver shilling twelve pence halfpenny. The final tens, from the lowest to the highest denomination of coinage should be the farthing, half-groat, groat, coins. As we should consider a decimal coinage to be a most desirable improvement, for reasons much quarter-royal (old sixpence), half-royal (old shilling), more practical than those advanced by Mr De Mor-royal, quarter-pound, half-pound, and pound-of course under more convenient names, the existing ones being taken as far as they go. We will now state a few of the advantages of a perfectly decimal coinage. gan, we shall here offer a few explanations on the subject. In the event of a change to a decimal coinage, Mr De Morgan is of opinion, that, for the sake of convenience, the pound should remain of the same value as at present, and the alterations only be made in the inferior pieces. Starting from the pound as a basis, he proposes to subdivide it in the following manner :"It is required to alter it, so that each part shall be subdivided into 10 others. That we may give names, let us call these parts royals, new groats, and new farthings thus a pound is 10 royals, a royal 10 new groats, and a new groat is 10 new farthings. Hence it follows immediately that the royal is 2s., the new groat is 2d. 4-10ths of a penny, or 24d. very nearly, and the new farthing is 96-100ths of the old one. * Of the grey stone mentioned in this legend, there is a very striking and melancholy anecdote to be told. Some twelve or thirteen years ago, a gentleman in the vicinity of the site of it was building a house, and, in defiance of the legend and curse connected with it, he resolved to break it up and use it. It was 1. All computations would be performed by the same extended multiplication table would be a better inrules as in the arithmetic of whole numbers. 2. An terest table than any which has yet been constructed. 3. The application of logarithms would be materially of the sliding rule. 4. The number of good commerfacilitated, and would become universal, as also that cial computers would soon be many times greater than at present. 5. All decimal tables, as those of compound interest, &c., would be popular tables, instead would be reduced to the new by the simple rule given of being mathematical mysteries. 6. The old coinage at the beginning of this article. Thus any person would see at once, after a moderate degree of practice in that rule, that L.14, 17s. 94d. (old coinage), is L.14, 8 royals, 8 groats, 9 farthings, of the new coinage, at least within a farthing: this would be written L.14.889. Again, L.23 614 of the new coinage, or with some difficulty, however, that he could succeed in getting L.23, 6 royals, 1 groat, 4 farthings, would be seen by his labourers to have any thing to do with its mutilation. Two men, however, undertook to blast it, but, somehow, the process of ignition being mismanaged, it exploded prematurely, and one of them was killed. This coincidence was held as a fulfilment of the curse mentioned in the legend. I have heard that it remains in that mutilated state to the present day, no other person being found who had the hardihood to touch it. This stone, before it was disfigured, exactly resembled that which the country people plete prism, a circumstance, no doubt, which, in the fertile imagination of the old Senachies, gave rise to the superstition term a miscaun of butter, which is precisely the shape of a com annexed to it.-Author's Note. It may be mentioned that, in the Interlude of the Droich's Part of the Play, above quoted, the wife of Fin M Coul is represented as the originator of a much larger mass of rock than the grey stone-namely, the basaltic hill of Craigforth, near Stirling. In like manner, Hibernian legend makes St Patrick drop the rock of Dumbarton and Ailsa Crag on his way to Ireland.--Ed. the same rule to be L.23, 128. 34d. (old coinage.) 7. When the decimal coinage came to be completely established, the introduction of a decimal system of weights and measures would be very much facilitated, and its advantages would be seen.' Plausible as these views of Mr De Morgan may appear, we think that the details of the plan are susceptible of improvement. It is doubtless important not to derange the value of the existing pound, but in retaining so high a denomination, a much greater derangement is caused by reconciling the small coins to it. It would, we think, be much more convenient, for all general purposes of trade and reckoning, to start from the existing shilling as a basis, dividing it into ten pence, and multiplying it by ten to make the highest denomination, or a pound. The penny might also be divided into ten decimes. By this arrangement we should have to reckon as follows:-10 decimes 1 penny, 10 pence 1 shilling, 10 shillings 1 pound. These would be the coins of reckoning; but, for convenience, the existing sovereigns, half-sovereigns (or new pound), crowns, halfcrowns, and sixpences, would remain in use, and we should only require a new coinage of copper pieces. By no other conceivable plan could a decimal coinage be brought into use, with less expense for the manufacture of a new metal currency. The question being still only speculative, it may be left for a time to the consideration of the country. Papers on the "Statistics of Disease and Mortality in England and Wales in 1838"-"Latitude and Longitude"-" Registration of Births, Marriages, and Deaths"-and the "Extension of Vaccination" follow in order; but as these subjects have either been already treated by us, or are at present unsuitable for notice, we pass on to an article on the "Railways of Great Britain." We learn from this that throughout Great Britain and Ireland there are 135 railways finished, in progress, or for which acts of Parliament have been obtained, and the greater number of which are designed for locomotives. The manner in which railways enlarge the amount of intercourse on lines of route, is strikingly manifested in the case of the Arbroath and Forfar railway (about fifteen miles in length), opened in January 1839. "Before the railway was formed, the passenger traffic of the district was scarcely sufficient to support one coach; but the advantages of railway speed, combined with very moderate fares, attracted 97,835 passengers in the course of the first year, being about 313 a-day, exclusive of Sundays, when the railway is closed. Within the first fifteen months the railway conveyed on an average more than 170 tons of goods daily." The same may be said of the first section of the Ulster railway in Ireland, which was opened in August 1000 passengers daily, though extending only from 1839: "it has already established a traffic exceeding Belfast to Lesburn, a distance of eight miles." In 1840, it appears that 72 miles were opened to complete railways previously in operation; 108 miles were opened in further extension of lines partially opened and ten lines were entirely opened to an aggregate in 1839; 94 miles were first opened of new lines; length of 2073 miles. "The total length of railway part of October last, was about 4823 miles, which brought into operation in the year, down to the early would probably be increased to more than 500 miles before the end of December." Among the new lines opened, the most interesting is that between London and Blackwall, which, in point of fact, is a railway from one part of London to another, the line being through the midst of streets and houses the whole way. It is designed to commence at Fenchurch Street, but at present the city terminus is on the east side of the Minories, "whence it extends to the West India Docks, on an elegant brick viaduct, about twenty-four feet wide between the parapets, the ordinary arches being nearly thirty feet span. Several skew arches and handsome iron and the Regent's Canal Docks are crossed by three bridges are introduced at the intersection of streets, very large brick arches. The viaduct is fenced by a light iron railing. skirts the premises of the West India Dock Company After quitting it, the railway on a low embankment, and terminates in a shallow cutting at Blackwall, over which three roads are carried by bridges. The terminus is on the Brunswick Wharf, where a handsome station is erected, designed by Mr Tite, President of the Architectural Society. Numerous steam-packets already avail themselves of the railway, by disembarking their pas sengers at Blackwall, thereby avoiding the tedious worked in a manner peculiar to itself, and which apand dangerous navigation of the pool. The line is pears admirably adapted to the business of a metropolitan railway, as the danger of fire attendant on the use of locomotive engines is avoided, and provision is diate stations without delay. Powerful steam-engines made for conveying passengers to and from intermea barrel, to which a rope of about six miles and a half are erected at each end of the line, each of which turns arranged that the carriages for Blackwall are foremost, long is attached. A train starting from London is so then those for the furthest intermediate station, and so on-the last in the train being the carriage that is to stop first. At a given signal, which is effected by means of an electric telegraph, the Blackwall engine begins to wind up the rope, by which the train is drawn forward, unwinding, as it proceeds, the rope from the London engine. On approaching the first station, the carriage destined for it is detached from the rope, and stopped by a brake-the rest of the train proceeding without interruption. In like manner, carriages are stopped at all the stations. When re-loaded, and prepared for returning, all the carriages by the London engine, being detached as they succesare attached to the rope, and drawn simultaneously sively arrive at the London terminus. Thus each track, of which there are two, is used alternately for travelling in each direction. Trains run every quarter of an hour from each terminus, and five intermefixed at the low rate of 6d. for first-class, and 3d. for diate stations are used. The fares were originally second-class passengers, the latter being in open carriages, roofed, but without seats; but, on the 1st of October, the second-class fares were increased to 4d. Although during part of the time but one track was open, and the intermediate stations are not yet brought fully into operation, the number of passengers conveyed during the first eighty-one days from the public opening on July 6th, was 570,930, or 7048 per diem. The receipts in the above period were L.8495, 18s., or L.104, 17s. 9d. per diem." I WAS quartered at Gibraltar in 1836. One day, to make head against ennui and the musquitoes, I proposed a pic-nic. My husband being agreeable, the first business was to select the party. Mr R. was chosen for his inexhaustible fund of good humour and good spirits; Captain O. for his constant flow of nonsense and anecdote, chequered occasionally by wit; Mr D. for his excellent qualifications as a listener, (rare and never-to-be-enough admired quality!) and his quiet resignation to all the possible mischances of a pleasure excursion. Some others were afterwards has been related, I need hardly warn any of my lady successors in the garrison of the Rock, against making a pic-nic party to Pigeon Island. NOTICES OF EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. THE PARISH SCHOOL OF KEMNAY. After all, it seemed at first as if we should not be able to set foot on this bold and rocky isle. However, after sailing more than half round it, we espied a creek, into which the boat was put, and we then scrambled ashore the best way we could. It was decidedly too late to commence a shooting excursion; but then to return with no trophies of sport-it was not to be thought of. So, each hastily swallowing a glass of wine, and faithfully promising to be back in THE parish school of Kemnay has been made known an hour, off started the gentlemen, not, however, before to us by the merest accident; we have not seen it, Captain O. had handed me a mysterious-looking nor ever had the slightest intercourse or corresponwooden box, which I had not before seen, and likewise dence with any one connected with it. In now introits key, desiring me to take the utmost care of both. When they were gone, the curiosity attributed in ducing it to notice, we must be considered as animated all ages to my sex incited me, though not without a solely by a wish to make the public acquainted certain Mrs Blue-beard kind of compunction, to open with something which we believe will interest them, O.'s box, which I found to contain a pie, a grape tart, and to present to the humbler class of rural teachers melons, and some other things, being, in fact, his contribution to the pic-nic. Exerting a degree of resolu- There are, of course, throughout the country, many an example which seems worthy of being followed. tion for which I could not but take great credit, I locked all up again carefully, and stowed away the box in the seminaries of more important character, and which cleft of a rock, where I thought it would be safe from equally merit being celebrated. The reader will, neverevery kind of danger. The breeze now died away, pro-theless, understand what it is which makes one somemising a pleasant evening for our voyage home. While times admire the simple wild flower more than the sitting on the cliff, musing agreeably on the prospect, cultivated denizens of the parterre; and he will soon an exclamation of surprise from one of the boatmen attracted my attention to Captain O.'s precious box, see that, in the remoteness and obscurity of Kemnay, which, having been reached by the rising tide, was and the union of enterprise and intelligence with now floating out to sea. All was immediately hurry- perseverance which has overcome these disadvantages, scurry to recover it, and to carry the hampers up to there is a claim upon his notice which he might be higher ground. The hour passed away, without bring- apt to dispute with regard to a much more imposing ing back our gentlemen. When did sportsmen ever return at the stipulated time? If unsuccessful, they go on hoping for a turn of luck; if successful, the sport A lady with whom we have the honour to be acis so attractive. At length, they did come back, laden quainted, chanced in August last to pay a visit to a with five pigeons, and all talking very loud. It seemed friend residing at Inverury in Aberdeenshire. After that two of them disputed the honour of having shot the last bird. The point was not settled that night, every object within walking distance had been walked nor while I was at Gibraltar; perhaps it is not laid at to, and when ennui was beginning to steal over the rest till this hour. It was, however, temporarily given mind of the stranger, her entertainer proposed that up while preparations were making for our meal. A they should have a drive to a country school, five requisition, and Captain O., having desired from me cloth being spread on a rock, the hampers were put in miles off, where she had a son placed for his edu"Kemnay his key, opened his box, which he found only half full cation as a boarder with the teacher. of salt-water. His look was dreadful. Every thing School, you must know," said the Inverury lady, "is was ruined. It was very unlucky, but I could not no common parish school. It is under the care of an help it. After all, he showed some magnanimity, for amiable enthusiast in education, who has done wonhe did not utter a word of blame, and, having hurled ders in the place, and is beginning to attract attention back the box into the sea, resumed his good humour in distant quarters. He is, I assure you, respected immediately. I have liked and admired him ever since. Enough remained for a good meal, and neither wherever he is known." "By all means, then, let us salt nor a cork-screw had been forgotten; so every-visit Kemnay School," said our friend. thing passed off very well. ques added. We also resolved to take a couple of servants and two pair of boatmen. The party being assembled at our quarters, a council was held to deliberate on the when and where. The when was easily fixed, but the where not quite so easily. The difficulty chiefly lay in one and all of us wishing to visit some select spot in the vicinity which we had not visited before. St Roque was voted a bore-nothing there but Spanish soldiers lounging about with everlasting cigars. The Orange Grove-beautiful!--but sure to be preoccupied by some other party. Algesiras-we are generally there once a week. The council seemed zonplussed, when at last some one exclaimed, "What if we should go to Pigeon Island?" "Impossible-no one ever does go there." "So much the better, for it will be at least a novelty, and we shall have something to tell of when we get back." Some one present now remembered having heard that there was game of some kind upon Pigeon Island. The rock, to be sure, was barren, rugged, and desolate -nothing to be seen-but the game decided the tion. We determined that it would be charming for once to go and see a place where there was nothing to be seen. In fact, garrison life is so little varied, that its victims are glad to relieve it with any thing of a novel kind, even though there should be little prospect of positive pleasure. The appointed morning arrived, and sea and sky were alike serene. At nine, after a hurried breakfast, we embarked with a variety of baskets, hampers, and other desirables, the arrangement of which cost no small thought, tramping, and tumbling. The sails were unfurled to the light breeze, and away we went. Our regimental barque, the Fra Diavolo, was about twenty-five feet in length-sprit-rigged, sharp, and dangerous; built under the direction of our officers at about three times the expense she was worth. For about half an hour, we enjoyed ourselves extremely; but, alas! the light breeze died away, and was succeeded by those fitful gusts and squalls peculiar to the Mediterranean, and which are so particularly troublesome to open boats in the Bay of Gibraltar. Our boatmen began to speak to each other in whispers, and to look melancholy. By way of beguiling the time, they began to recount to each other their respective experiences in such squalls, and all the dismal accidents they had ever heard of resulting from them. Snatches of the conversation, such as "The boat was swamped," "Ay, it was just hereabouts," 39 66 crew drowned," &c., reached my ear at intervals. Our mirth and laughter were now exchanged for serious looks, or efforts at jocularity. I began to wonder how I could have ever, in the hope of a day's pleasure, exposed myself in such a manner. My sensations were evidently shared by my maid, who evinced them every few minutes by a slight hysterical scream. There was a heavy swell, and, to preserve the balance of the boat, we were desired on no account to move. When we had obeyed this injunction for about an hour, the cramp came to add to my woes. The wind, which had continued to increase, now changed, and was dead against us. It was debated whether we ought not to give up Pigeon Island, and make the best of our way back; but the anticipation of the laughter and ridicule with which our return would be greeted, decided against that course. Then followed a constant tacking and shifting of sails, to induce our vessel to go onward; and, after several hours of the most disagreeable boat voyage I had ever endured, we reached Pigeon Island about half-past four o'clock, having taken seven and a half hours to go eleven miles. establishment. The particulars of the visit were communicated in a letter, from which the following is an extract :— "Our way was for some time alongside the Don. We then left the river, and passed for some miles through a country generally barren, till at length we as a green spot in the wilderness. I could imagine no descended upon Kemnay, which appeared to me quite simple rural scene possessed of greater beauty than what was presented by the little group of cottages constituting the parish school establishment, planted as they are upon somewhat irregular ground, which for some distance around has been laid out with good taste, and exhibits a variety of fine green shrubs. A few years ago, the school and school-house were, as usual in Scotland, merely a couple of cottages in juxtaposition. Mr Stevenson, the present teacher, has added one new building after another, till it is now a large school-room, which is constructed of timber, considerable place. His last addition was a pretty pitched on the top. One must not wonder at the new buildings not being of a very lasting kind, for not only has the teacher had to do all at his own expense, but he has done it with the certainty that all will situation. The place, nevertheless, seems sufficiently become public property when he dies or leaves his comfortable. The new erections have been made as the views of the teacher, respecting the duties of his charge, expanded, and as his boarding pupils became more numerous. After all, these are as yet only nineteen. returning. There was a dead calm. So sails were Another spell of hard pulling, and we reached Rosia It was singular, you will allow, at a time when inin England, to find it practised on a large scale, and dustrial education is only beginning to be thought of under the best regulations, in a remote and barren |