CHAMBERS'S EDINBURGH JOURNAL. her tormentor; "what will you take for that ?or where in the world did ye find such satin ?" "What's that to you?" she replied tartly; "give me back my goods, and don't be stopping a poor traveller on her way." "I'm not stopping you," replied Mrs Mulvany, who remembered that Mary had said in her letter she thought what the lady's maid had given the goose-plucker was blue. This determined her on a singular course of proceeding. "What's yer basket worth?" "Myself can't tell." "Did you give ten shillings for what's in it ?" "Where would a poor craythur like me get ten shillings ?" There's ten-and-sixpence for it, then," said Mrs Mul"There's vany, quickly, throwing her half a guinea. ten-and-sixpence for it. Will that do? Go on, Jerry; ye heard her say it wasn't worth ten shillings." The goose-plucker stood with staring eyes, looking after the rapidly trotting horse of Mrs Mulvany, while Jerry, delighted at his mother's frolic, turned round grinning most gloriously, and waving his Clan Alpin in But suddenly gathering adieu to the outwitted rogue. up her energies, the goose-plucker set off screaming after the horse and its riders, while Mrs Mulvany, having discovered that the basket had a false bottom, sat coolly examining its contents. When she arrived at Castle Hazard, Mrs Mulvany had good reason to rejoice at her promptness. She found that Mary Dacey had got up a well-arranged plan to destroy Mary Cassidy's character. Several things had been missed by the lady of the house, and the charge of robbery laid both directly and indirectly upon the priest's niece. Mary Cassidy was in tears; but protesting innocence is not proving it. Mary Dacey was wicked enough to say she'd take her oath that she saw the blue satin, which was one of the things her mistress missed, in Mary Cassidy's possession. It so happened that Mrs Mulvany arrived at the very moment the examination was going on in the parlour, and she said at once, "Mary, let your boxes be searched." This was done, while the poor girl protested her innocence, and saw, when it was too late, that truth cannot be compromised with safety to our own honour. Oh, Mary Dacey !" she exclaimed," how could you treat me so, when you knew right well what I saved you from ?" This led to the inquiry, what she had saved her from? and then came a daring appeal from the young sinner. She turned to her master and asked him if it could have been possible that she was in the goose-house the night he entered without his seeing her? This boldness in lying almost paralysed Mary Cassidy, and her master was compelled to confess he did not think it could. "How often," continued the artful girl, "have I found money, madam, that you lost, and brought it you!-this was not the act of a rogue, was it?" Her mistress was obliged to admit the fact, and the feelings of their fellow servants not in the plot wavered from the priest's niece to the lady's maid. Mrs Mulvany kept her purchase all this time concealed beneath the shadow of her riding-skirt; then suddenly producing it, she said, "Mary Dacey, do you know this basket ?" "It's mighty like-a-a-basket," she stammered. "Whose basket ?" inquired Mrs' Mulvany, fixing her sharp keen eyes on her. "Why, I don't know; sure I can't tell; how should I know ?" "Do you know this blue satin-this lace-this fine scent-box?" And she continued drawing forth a curious assemblage of things, peculations not only from Castle Hazard, but other houses. How frightful is vice at any age, but in the young it is awful. Well!" exclaimed the hardened girl, "now I do look at the basket, it is mighty like Nanny the gooseplucker's; the creature has been about the house, and ov coorse Mary turned the ready penny with her!" breeze. Just as she had so said, Mrs Mulvany observed the goose-plucker advancing down the avenue at a much more rapid pace than she could have conceived possible, her blue cloak flying behind, and her progress marked by the escape of sundry feathers that floated away upon the She observed that Mary Dacey changed colour, but Mary Cassidy wept as before. "I have one favour to ask, madam," said Mary's friend, advancing to the lady who had been so wrought upon by this bad girl. "Will you permit ME, and me only, to have a word with that woman before she enters here?" and Mrs Mulvany pointed to the advancing enemy. This request was granted. Mary Dacey at first entreated and expostulated, saying Mrs Mulvany and the goose-plucker would sell her betwixt them, but in vain. And when the woman entered the room with Mrs Mulvany, the girl saw that the truth would be known, for the goose-plucker imagined it was known already. Still the love of lying, aided by the natural quickness of a clever but corrupt nature, swayed them both. The gooseplucker's evidence was most cautiously given; and it was marvellous how she acted upon the hint of Mary Dacey's eye. "Why, not two minutes ago," said Mrs Mulvany, "you admitted that Mary Dacey gave you those things to purchase your silence, as you and the hen-wife determined to tell all you knew, and get her out of her place if she did not give you all she could." "Ah! said the old wretch, assuming the most simple expression of countenance, "you bothered me, so you did, betwixt the two Marys-it was Mary Cassidy I meant." Mrs Mulvany looked-but no matter how she looked; the goose-plucker had confessed all to her, yet now seemed determined to turn that all to the ruin of an innocent girl. "Here's a letter of Mary Dacey's, directed to Ben Tomlines, and that's her sweetheart, I know," exclaimed one of the children, who had been rummaging over the pedlar's basket with childish delight. repetition of the first word can reach the ear, the sense. Then, indeed, the lady's maid saw her plot was discovered-then she knew all was over, for the letter, which the goose-plucker had engaged to convey to her lover (one of the worst fellows in Clonmel, and that is saying a success of her scheme to turn the priest's niece out of great deal), exulted in very strange orthography over the her place; it evinced how impossible it is for bad people to appropriate proper motives to the most virtuous actions, for it contained these remarkable words-" She It has been mentioned as somewhat difficult to comhas the power." The ingratitude of this wicked girl speaks has not done me any harm yet, but I'm sure she will, for she for itself; but I hope it is unnecessary to make any observa- prehend, how nature, without the aid of smooth retion on Mary Cassidy's culpable weakness, which brought flecting surfaces, and indeed by the agency often of low servant persisted in a course which was decidedly at concentrate and throw back sounds as we find done in all this trouble upon her. When she saw that her fel-surfaces extremely rough and broken, can so perfectly increases than diminishes the difficulty. This fact variance with her employers' interests-a course which she had moral proof was dishonest-she should have said the case of most natural echoes. The fact that sound "magic mirror." This mirror is constructed as follows. so. She should have told her mistress; and any servant obeys laws of reflection similar to those of light, rather Mrs Mulvany remained all that evening at Castle will be apparent from a description of what is called the who does not, becomes the accomplice of thieves. posite to a partition-wall in which there is an aperture Hazard, and Mary, after seeing the folly of her ways, was reinstated in her mistress's favour, while those who de- A concave mirror is fixed in a vertical position, opserved it, lost both place and character. "I have heard," said the poor girl, before bidding her of the same size as the mirror, and facing it exactly. A friend good night, "I have heard-from-you know who. small thin curtain may conceal this aperture, and also In the midst of my trouble the letter came; he knows the mirror, without impeding the passage of the sound. all; and what do you think he says? That he's got pro- On the other side of the wall, at a very short distance moted, and is in the rank of a gentleman. A gentleman from it, a second mirror is placed, exactly facing the at sea!-and when I came to that, my heart sank. But hole in the wall and the first mirror. If a small a little farther on-here-you can read it yourself. He figure be fixed with its ear or head in the focus of one There, dear Mrs Mulvany, you can read the word, and he the second, will hear distinctly the slightest whisper which may be uttered in the ear of the figure alluded says that he will be home, and we shall be m-a-mirror, any person who places his ear in the focus of to. In other words, although the mirrors are in different rooms, the slightest sound uttered in the focus does not think the worse of me FOR GOING TO SERVICE." of one mirror is reflected from it, and conveyed in straight lines, through the aperture in the wall, to the other mirror, in the focus of which it is condensed aid of thin curtains, and all proper apparatus, jugglers so as to be audible there, and there alone. With the have made this magic mirror a source of mighty wonechoing or whispering galleries of Florence and other derment. It is upon the same principle that the famous places are constructed, or rather that they act, since such qualities were not intentionally given to them by the architects. In these galleries, the least whisper emitted at a certain point at one end is heard at a certain point at the other, or, in other words, in the focus of the echo. The following curious instance is mentioned in Herschel's Treatise on Sound:-"In the cathedral of Girgenti, in Sicily, the slightest whisper is borne with perfect distinctness from the great western door to the cornice behind the high altar, a distance of two mer station was chosen for the place of the confeshundred and fifty feet. By a most unlucky coincidence, the precise focus of divergence at the forsional. Secrets never intended for the public ear thus to the opposite point (which seems to have been disbecame known, to the dismay of the confessors and the scandal of the people, by the resort of the curious had his curiosity somewhat overgratified by hearing covered accidentally), till at length one listener, having this tell-tale peculiarity became generally known, and a confession of a disagreeable nature from his wife, the confessional was removed." ECHOES. THE manner in which echoes are produced, common This explanation is simple, and may seem, at first view, satisfactory. But it must be admitted that there are difficulties attending the subject, which are not mental theory. We find, by experiment, that sound explicable by a reference to any such simple fundais reflected in nearly the same manner as light; yet light requires a polished surface for reflection, whereas, in the case of many natural echoes, the repercussions of sound appear to be produced by the most uneven truth, all that we really understand of the matter surfaces, by shapeless rocks, and even by clouds. In which any sound is propagated, meet a peculiarly is, that the columns of vibrating or sonorous air, by A very peculiar echo has been noticed at a spot shaped obstacle, and rebound, so forming an echo to son who speaks or sings hears only his own voice, and any ear which is within the range of the repercussion. There will be no echo, however, if the original sound called Genesay, near Rouen. At this place the pernot distinguish the succession of two sounds unless not the echo; a person, listening near by, hears only is still affecting the organ of hearing. The ear does there be between them an interval of the twelfth of a the echo, and not the voice; to others, standing still second, and as sound travels about ninety-five feet in farther apart, there appears to be a mixture of voices or voice seems to be on the left, and so on. The the course of a second, the obstacle or object which or sounds, to an amazing extent; and, finally, while causes the repetition of a vocal sound must be half one person hears it on the right, to another the echo This oblique echo is formed by a semicircular range that distance away, or about forty-eight feet from the utterer, in order to permit the echo to be distinguish-report varies constantly with each party's position. Sciences an attempt is made to explain the whole able by him. of buildings, and in the Memoirs of the Academy of ments of the edifice. But the marvel is, why such phenomena by a reference to the form and arrangefor the concentration of the echo into a single report. echoes are not common, seeing that in the case of ordinary echoes we cannot generally discern any cause serve about them so many angles and inequalities, that When a hill, or a building, or trees, form the resonant we might naturally expect them to yield, one and all, obstacles, as they do in most cases, we commonly obof the locality ought to yield a much weaker and more echoes similar to that of Genesay. A convex portion a large scale. diffused sound than a concare object; and there can results, could we distinctly trace the connection on be no doubt that such causes will always produce such A simple echo is that in which one repetition is heard; a compound echo, where two or more are to be but one obstacle to the passage of sound; in audible. In the case of a single echo, there appears that of compound echoes, there are either various obcaused by them strike the ear at different times, or stacles, so placed that the separate reflections of sound the locality is such that the sound, once reflected, meets new obstacles, and is re-echoed for a greater or lesser number of times. Compound echoes are those of course which have The subject of echoes is of great importance, when we consider it in relation to the diffusion of sound in churches and other public buildings. Where the echo case in many large buildings, the effect is extremely and the original sound are heard in succession, as is the disagreeable, and prevents the speaker from being and strengthen the speaker's voice. Dr Boswell Reid heard. The desirable plan is, not to destroy the echo, but so to concentrate it, that it may chime in with Houses of Parliament, by placing peculiarly shaped centrate the sound, and by flooring the house with a effected this in the temporary edifices for the two reflecting boards around the building, in order to conthe sound anew. matted substance, which could not reflect or diffuse But it is to natural echoes that we wish to confine ourselves at present, and we shall, in conclusion, give some remarks of Herschel upon the echoes of Menai. "Beneath the Suspension Bridge across the Menai Strait in Wales, close to one of the main piers, is a remarkably fine echo. The sound of a blow on the pier with a hammer is returned in succession from each of the cross beams which support the roadway, and from the opposite pier at a distance of 576 feet: and in addition to this, the sound is many times repeated between the water and the roadway. The effect is a series of sounds which may be thus described: The first return is sharp and strong from the roadway overhead; the rattling which succeeds dies away rapidly, but the single repercussion from the opposite pier is very strong, and is succeeded by a faint palpitation, repeating the sound at the rate of twenty-eight times in five seconds, and which therefore corresponds to a distance of 184 feet, or very nearly the double interval from the roadway to the water. Thus, it appears that in the repercussion between the water and roadway, that from the latter only affects the ear, the line drawn from the auditor to the water being too oblique for the sound to diverge sufficiently in that direction. Another peculiarity deserves especial notice the echo from the opposite pier is best heard when the auditor stands precisely opposite to the middle of the breadth of the pier, and strikes just on that point. As it deviates to one or the other side, the return is proportionably fainter, and is scarcely heard by him when his station is a little beyond the extreme edge of the pier, though another person, stationed (on the same side of the water) at an equal distance from the central point, so as to have the pier between them, hears it well." In this case, possibly from the superior skill and accuracy of the observer, we find an intelligible connection pointed out between cause and effect. It is only from a similarly close examination of natural echoes, in general, that architects will arrive at just principles for their guidance in the erection of buildings intended for public speaking. GERAMB'S TRAVELS IN PALESTINE.* TWENTY-FIVE years ago, there appeared in London a whiskered German baron, driving a chariot of inexplicable construction, dressed in a costume that combined the oddities of every nation under heaven, and proclaiming himself a victim of Napoleon's tyranny. Such an arrival at a time when the long war had made a foreigner a rare sight in England, produced a sensation of which the present generation can form no conception. Baron Geramb became the great lion of the day; his portrait appeared in every print-shop; his movements were recorded in every paper; no party was complete without his presence; even Carlton House courted him as a guest; and he never appeared in public without a crowd at his heels. He reigned supreme in the fashionable world some six or seven weeks longer than ever lion reigned before, but at length suddenly disappeared. After the lapse of nearly as much time as nature assigns to a generation of man, the baron suddenly comes again before the world as if he had risen from the dead, no longer a man of fashion, but a monk of La Trappe, in which capacity he informs us he has traversed Palestine as a humble pilgrim. The book before us is the result of his journey. It must be owned at the outset that the guise under which the baron traversed Palestine, afforded him opportunities of becoming acquainted with some portions of the population which escape the notice of the generality of travellers. An Englishman or a Frenchman armed with a firman is transmitted from one Mahommedan authority to another, and all that he sees of the Christian population is in hasty visits to monasteries, and a few of the most celebrated churches. The humble monk visits the cottages of the Catholic Arabs, whose very existence is almost unknown to other tourists; and though our author gives fewer particulars of this interesting race than we could desire, still inquiries in other quarters have convinced us that his facts are authentic. The severe tasks which the Arabs generally impose upon their women have been fully described by Burckhardt and Niebuhr; the baron informs us that Christianity has not led to any amelioration of the female condition in Palestine, and his description of the toils that they are compelled to endure at Bethlehem possesses much melan choly interest. "As the reservoirs and the canals which supply Bethlehem as well as Jerusalem with water, are in ruins, and dry eleven months in the year, the women are obliged to go a league to fetch what they want for household use, and to bring it back themselves in skins. Add to this the toil of climbing steep hills under their burden, and then say, my dear friend, if it be possible to suppress a painful feeling, especially when you consider that this task is to be performed three or four times a-week. A few days since I was taking a walk outside the town with the curé. About three quarters of a mile from it, we met with a young girl returning with her provision. She had set down her skin upon a fragment of rock, and was standing beside it, out of breath, and wiping the perspiration from her face. Curious to know the weight of the skin, I begged her to put it on my shoulders; my request astonished her not a little; she nevertheless complied very cheerfully. *Journal of Travels in Palestine, Egypt, and Syria. By Marie Joseph de Geramb, Monk of La Trappe. London, Colburn. It was as much as I could do to take a few steps under hand. There are Jews of all trades, of all professions; the burden. Poor thing!' said I, as I threw it down, my tinman is a Jew. As I have occasion for a good looking at the curé,how old is she? Not more than many tin boxes and cases to hold valuable objects, I see sixteen, I daresay.' 'Sixteen!' said he; she is not thir-him frequently; and his assiduity, his indefatigable acteen;' and, addressing her in Arabic, he asked, "How old tivity, always fills me with surprise. A quality peculiar are you, my girl? Twelve, sir.' I took from my pocket here to this class of persons, is a civility which forms a some pieces of money, which I handed to her, and which singular contrast with the rude, uncouth behaviour of go so far for water is not the only task of the poor Beth- you seeking a street? she accepted with a lively demonstration of joy. But to the other inhabitants. Have you lost your way? Are A Jew, be sure, will offer to conlehemites. The town is destitute of wood, nor is any to duct you; he will even accompany you for a considerable be found nearer than some leagues. It is the women who distance; and, too proud to ask for pay, too fond of gain are obliged to provide this also. But what wrings one's to make an absolute sacrifice of it, when you have reached heart, and I must confess makes my blood boil, is to see the place to which you are going he will look at your these wretched worn-down emaciated creatures, having hand, he will cast an eye at your pocket: if you choose to misery stamped on their faces, sinking beneath their take the hint, well and good." loads, passing in sight of their husbands, listlessly seated in the public square, smoking and chatting by way of pastime, while not a thought ever enters the head of of these heartless husbands to relieve his partner of her burden, and to carry for her at least from that spot to his home what she has had to bring whole leagues. any cares, of Is this all? No, my friend. At night, with this wood which has cost such toil, she is obliged to heat the water brought from such a distance, she has to wash the feet of that man, then to cook his supper, then to wait upon him standing upon him and his eldest son---without taking the least share in the meal, and to wait till they have done before she can step aside to eat by herself what they have left. . . . . The pen drops from my fingers. Is it possible that a sex so worthy of all the all the attentions, of all the affections of man, can be thus treated by man? Is it possible that she can be thus treated, who carries him in her bosom, who brings him forth with pain, who suckles him with her milk, who warms him on her heart, who rocks him upon her knees, who guides his first steps, who strives by education to transfuse into him all that is gentle and kind, who delights to throw a charm over his life, who shares his sorrows, who best knows how to soothe his woes, to comfort him, to nurse him in illness and infirmity, to lighten and sometimes to embellish his old age, and to perform for him, until his last moment, services of which any other courage, any other devotedness, any other love, would be incapable? And that at Bethle hem!" A deeper interest belongs to the condition of the Jews in Jerusalem; outcasts and aliens in the city of their fathers, with the symbol of foreign dominion and worship displayed over the spot where once their national temple stood-"the abomination of desolation in the holy place"-ever before their eyes; spurned alike by Mussulmans and Christians; slaves, nay, the bondsmen of a slave, it is no wonder that moral degradation has followed in the train of political suffering, and that intellect has been crushed beneath the hoofs which trampled down the heart. It is highly creditable to the baron, bigot though he be, that his sympathies were awakened for this proscribed race; indeed he speaks of them in more favourable terms than any preceding travellers, and we gladly do them the justice of quoting his testimony. "The Jews of this country have been represented by some writers in a light that seems to me absolutely false. It is true that here, as every where else, they retain that characteristic type which distinguishes them from all the people in the world; that seal, that stamp, which neither time nor climate effaces; it is true that at Je rusalem the Jew is still a Jew, and there, too, interest is his idol; he has expatriated himself to come and die there. In order that after his death he may be laid has left the country in which he was born, his home, beneath a few stones in the valley of Jehoshaphat, he his relatives, his friends; with his eyes fixed on the spot where stood the temple, he deplores its ruin, and sheds floods of tears over the destruction of the holy city, and the dispersion of his nation: and with a heart wrung, with eyes yet dim with tears, he is ready to lend, at an exorbitant interest, to him who unfortunately is obliged to have recourse to his purse. But, on the other hand, it must be confessed that the Jews of Jerusalem are in general well educated, and not deficient in attainments; they understand several languages; almost all of them speak Spanish and Italian. The school in their synagogue, though inferior to that which they have at Tiberias, which is the most celebrated of all, is directed by masters who devote themselves with zeal to the instruction of the youth committed to their care. They treat their pupils with the more severity, because they precepts of the Bible. conceive that in so doing they are conforming with the I was struck to see a little urchin, seven or eight years When I visited the boys' school, old, tied with a cord, and receiving the bastinado on the soles of his feet. The poor fellow groaned deeply, but without crying as children generally do. I immediately solicited his pardon through my dragoman. willingly granted by the master. Notwithstanding the severity of the discipline, and the incessant studies to which they are kept, all these boys have a cheerful look. The parents, and even the children, have a certain politeness in their manners, which form a singular contrast with those of the inhabitants belonging to other nations. I have never seen a Jew asking charity; I have never seen one covered with the rags of wretchedness, which are but too frequently met with among the Arabs and the Christians; and this is owing less to the relief which the poor receive from the rich, or from that which foreign synagogues transmit to their indigent brethren, than to activity and industry. The Jew is a stranger to that slothful fondness for rest so common among the people principal cause of their indigence. The Jew employs of the Levant, whose useless and indolent life is the himself; he spreads out sometimes upon a tottering stone, wares of such small value, that you are utterly astonished that he can hope to derive any profit from them; but should he sell no more than will enable him to procure a morsel of bread, that appears to him preferable to the shame he would feel in holding out his It was The name of Djezzar Pacha has been made familiar to English ears by his desperate defence of Acre against Napoleon, which rolled back the tide of war from Syria to Egypt, and prevented the establishment of a French empire in the Levant. Even among oriental despots, Djezzar, or "the butcher," as his name signifies, holds the pre-eminence for remorseless cruelty; ears, eyes, and noses, were rare appendages among his courtiers; and had he preserved the heads of his victims, he might easily have raised a loftier pile than the ghastly monument erected by Nadir Shah. Yet Djezzar is regretted at Acre; he was inflexibly just when nothing interfered with his caprice; and there mingled in his judgments a bitter humour and sarcastic spirit of jesting, which were highly gratifying to oriental imaginations. The following specimen of his deciding disputed possession by a parable, affords a favourable view of his character : "A young Christian, carrying on business at St Jean d'Acre, had won the good graces of Djezzar by the dealings which he had had with him, when selling him various European commodities. He lived in a handsome house with his father, an aged and infirm man. The latter occupied the best and most convenient apartment on the second floor. The young man, who was about to marry, requested his father to give up his room to him for a few weeks only, protesting that he would then restore it with many thanks. The old man complied; and going down to the first floor, though it was disagreeable and unwholesome, At the expiration of the time he settled himself in it. specified, he claimed his room; the young couple begged him to wait; he consented, and allowed a further term. the ungrateful son, unmindful of what he owed to his At the end of it he again urged his claim. But this time parent, insolently declared that he intended to stay where he was, and desired that he might not be troubled any more on the subject. The unfortunate father bore the injury in silence; but as his compliance with the wishes of his son, and the restrictions which he had attached, were known, the unworthy conduct of the young man soon became public. Djezzar, by means of his numerous spies, knew all that passed. Being informed of this circumstance, he sent for the son. The young man relying on a good-will, of which he had previously received habitual testimonies, hastened to the pacha, without hesitation and without fear. He found him in the divan, surrounded by his ministers had incurred his displeasure. and his executioners, and very soon perceived that he 'Of what religion art thou?' cried Djezzar, darting at him a look that made him turn pale with fear, and deprived him of the power of reply. I ask,' he resumed, raising his voice, of what religion thou art ? 6 'I-I am a Christian, as your excellency knows. 'A Christian! thou liest! Let us see! Make the sign of the Christians !' The young man, trembling, made the sign of the cross. his dagger. That is not it,' said the pacha, clapping his hand upon 'Pronounce aloud,' continued he; 'pronounce aloud the words which accompany that sign!' Holy Ghost,' replied the terrified Christian. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the 'Repeat them,' said the pacha, and speak louder. I am old, and growing deaf.' and repeated in as loud a voice as he could, In the name The young man lifted his right hand to his forehead, of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.' Aha!' cried Djezzar, in a voice that made the divan shake, and thrilled the young man with horror. Aha! wretch! the Father is on the forehead, the Son on the breast!.... Knowest thou what that means?-the Father is above, and the Son below. Go, scoundrel! go home; and if in a quarter of an hour it is not so there, thy head shall roll in the dust." himself at the feet of his father, to beg his pardon, and to I need not say what haste the culprit made to throw give up the room which he had dared to withhold from him so unjustly." We shall not follow the baron in his pilgrimage to the various localities which tradition has consecrated as the scenes of the events in Gospel history. His credulity on these subjects, whether real or affected, is so outrageously extravagant, that it is painfully ridiculous. His account of Egypt, though superficial bear internal proofs of their fidelity. His picture of and sketchy, contains some vivid descriptions, which the present state of Alexandria is equally accurate and amusing. "In its present state it exhibits the most extraordinary, nay, even the most hideous contrasts: it is a confused assemblage of palaces and cabins, a mixture of habits and European manners, which astonish the for luxury and poverty, of indolence and activity, of Turkish reigner. Here you are amidst bustle, the din of business or of pleasure, there all is the silence and solitude of the desert. A man superbly dressed, covered with shawls of great value, walks by the side of a naked wretch; an English chariot, drawn by four magnificent horses, with footmen in laced liveries, is crossing a pile of camels driven by squalid Arabs; European ladies, perfumed, in One thing which appears to me worthy of remark, because I have not met with it elsewhere, is, that at the corner of every street you find asses well caparisoned, which boys eagerly offer to those who wish to inspect the city, or to go from one quarter to another, and whom they follow on the run without even flagging. There are few streets frequented for the sake of trade in which you do not meet with these animals going and coming almost incessantly; they are the hackney coaches and the cabriolets of the country." We close these volumes with some feelings of pain and disappointment. Human nature delights in extremes; the change of the dandy into the ascetic, and of the baron into the monk, is not after all very surprising. But how a man possessing such talents as the baron manifestly does, should hope to gain sympathy, by displaying a spirit of sour fanaticism and acrimonious bigotry, is truly astonishing. LAW PROCEEDINGS AGAINST ANIMALS. IT appears to have been by no means unusual in France, in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, to institute legal proceedings against animals, allowing them an advocate to defend them, and treating them in every respect as fairly as if they had been human beings. How far it was done in a serious spirit, and how far in the spirit of drollery, it would now be difficult to say; but certain it is that such proceedings occasionally took place, and were conducted with all the external gravity desirable in similar cases where human beings are concerned. The following is a notable instance. From about the year 1522 to 1530, the rats in the bishopric of Autun had multiplied to a vast extent, insomuch that, from their ravages, serious apprehensions of famine were at length entertained. All human remedies having been tried without any important effect, a resolution was at length formed to petition the ecclesiastical judge of the district to excommunicate them. It was conceived, however, that this remedy was the more likely to be efficacious if all the usual forms of law were observed. A proctor therefore lodged a formal complaint against the rats. The judge ordered that they should be summoned to appear before him. The period having expired without their having presented themselves, the proctor obtained a first judgment by default against them, and demanded that the final judgment should be proceeded to. The judge, however, deeming it but fair that the accused should be defended, officially named M. Barthelemi Chassanée, a young advocate, to be their defender. Chassanée, being like most young barristers anxious to distinguish himself, readily undertook the task; and knowing the discredit in which his clients were held, he resolved to do all he could to delay proceedings, in order to afford time for prejudices to subside. He at first contended that, the rats being dispersed amongst a great number of villages, a single summons was not sufficient to warn them all. He therefore demanded, and it was ordered, that a second notification should be given to them by the clergyman of each parish at the time of his sermon. This occasioned a considerable delay, at the end of which, the rats still failing to appear, M. Chassanée made a new excuse for the default of his clients, by dwelling on the length and difficulty of the journey; on the danger they were exposed to from the cats, their mortal enemies, who would lie in wait for them in all directions, &c. When these evasive pleas were exhausted, he rested his defence upon considerations of humanity and policy. "Was there any thing more unjust than general proscriptions levelled at whole families, which punished the child for the guilt of the parents, which involved, without distinction, those of tender years, and even those whose incapacity equally renders them incapable of crime," &c. MR TOWNSHEND'S EXCURSION TO THE hunting leisurely through that distance, which is composed chiefly of wide flat prairies, with few and remotely situated habitations of the frontier settlers. At a small village on the river, the steamer arrived with the baggage, and part of the proposed company; and now the ulterior arrangements were made for setting out. There were amongst the men, to compose the caravan, a great variety of dispositions. Some who had not been accustomed to the kind of life they were to lead, looked forward to it with eager delight, and talked of stirring incidents and hairbreadth escapes. Others, who were more experienced, seemed to be as easy and unconcerned about it as a citizen would be in contemplating a drive of a few miles into the country. Some were evidently reared in the shade, and not accustomed to hardships: many were almost as rough as the grizzly bears, and not a little proud of their feats, of which they were fond of boasting; but the majority were strong able-bodied men. During the day, the captain kept all his men employed in arranging and packing a vast variety of goods for carriage. In addition to the necessary clothing for the company, arms, ammunition, &c., there were thousands of trinkets of various kinds, beads, paint, bells, rings, and such trumpery, intended as presents for the Indians, as well as objects of trade with them. The bales were usually made to weigh about eighty pounds, of which a horse was to carry two. Captain Wyeth ensured the good-will and obedience of the men, by his affable but firm manner, and showed himself every way suitable for his very important mission. On the 28th of April, at ten o'clock in the morning, all things being prepared, the caravan, consisting of seventy men and two hundred and fifty horses, began its march towards the west. All were in high spirits, and full of hope of adventure; uproarious bursts of merriment, and gay and lively songs, constantly echoed along the line of the cavalcade. The road lay over a vast rolling prairie, with occasional small spots of timber at the distance of several miles apart, and this was expected to be the complexion of the track for some weeks. For the first day and night the journey was agreeable, but on the second day a SINCE the enterprising John Jacob Astor made his heavy rain fell, which made the ground wet and muddy, celebrated overland journey from the valley of the soaked the blanket bedding, and rendered camping Mississippi to the shore of the Pacific in 1810, with at night any thing but pleasant. The description given the view of planting a fur-trading emporium on the of a nightly camp is interesting :-"The party is Columbia river,* the vast territory lying between the divided into messes of eight men, and each mess is United States and the Pacific Ocean has been repeat- allowed a separate tent. The captain of a mess (who edly traversed by bands of white men engaged in is carrying on a precarious though lucrative traffic in furs with the native tribes. Since the comparatively primitive times of Mr Astor, the region on both sides of the Rocky Mountains has become better known, the Indian races have diminished in numbers by their incessant wars, and the companies of fur-traders have now somewhat less to fear and suffer in their protracted wanderings. Still, all such excursions from the eastern to the western waters are not without many perils and troubles. The setting-out of an expedition resembles a caravan of pilgrims sallying forth across the African deserts; civilisation is for months, perhaps for years, left behind; no vestige of house or road is seen on the apparently interminable wastes ; journeying is performed only on horseback during the day, while repose is enjoyed in tents pitched for the night; a constant outlook must be kept for prowling wild beasts, or the not less stealthy steps of the Pawnee Loup Indian; in short, all is wild nature, romantic enough, perhaps, to untamed minds, but, as we can imagine, altogether unendurable by persons accustomed to the quiet and orderly life of cities. Strange as it seems, however, there are highly cultivated individuals who, inspired by a love of science, or for the mere sake of sport-such as having a shot at a buffalo or black bear-voluntarily make part of the fur-trading bands, and consent to remain for years from home, friends, and the world of refinement. A notice of the excursion of a gentleman possessing the character of both naturalist and sportsman, will form the subject of the present, and probably a succeeding article; the traveller's own words, from his published narrative, being occasionally introduced.+ Mr Townshend, an enthusiastic ornithologist, accompanied by his friend Professor Nuttal (of Harvard University), an eminent botanist, being desirous of increasing the existing stock of knowledge in the departments of science to which they were respectively attached, agreed to accompany a body of traders, commanded by a Captain Wyeth, to the Columbia river, and adjacent parts. The traders belonged to We are not informed how the case ended. But De an association called the Columbia River Fishing and Thou, who relates the circumstances above stated, Trading Company, and on this occasion they designed adds that the ingenuity shown by M. Chassanée laid to fix a permanent branch-establishment in the west. the foundation of his reputation, and he rose in time On the evening of the 24th of March 1834, the two to be first president of the parliament of Provence. friends arrived in a steam-boat at St Louis, on the A more grave result has been hinted at. While he Missouri, from Pittsburg. At St Louis, which is the held this high office, severe proceedings were instituted last great town within the settlements, they furnished against the Protestant Vaudois; and M. Chassanée themselves with several pairs of leathern pantaloons, was called upon to take the part assigned to him by enormous overcoats, and white wool hats, with round his office in their persecution. The unfortunate people, crowns, fitting tightly to the head, and almost hard at this juncture, put to him the severe question, how enough to resist a musket-ball. Leaving their baggage he could reconcile it to his conscience to dispense with to come on with the steamer, about three hundred the usual judicial forms towards them, his fellow-miles farther up the Missouri, Mr Townshend and his creatures, when he had some years before insisted on their scrupulous observance towards the rats of Autun. The president was staggered, and he actually seems to have, in consequence, given a silent protection to the Vaudois. friend set off to amuse themselves by walking and * See our article, "Irving's Astoria," Number 286. Philadelphia. An edition, with a slightly altered title, has lately An Excursion to the Rocky Mountains, by J. K. Townshend. appeared in London. generally an old hand') receives each morning rations of pork, flour, &c., for his people, and they choose one of their body as cook for the whole. Our camp now consists of nine messes, of which Captain W.'s forms one, although it contains only four persons besides the cook. When we arrive in the evening at a suitable spot for encampment, Captain W. rides round a space which he considers large enough to accommodate it, and directs where each mess shall pitch its tent. The men immediately unload their horses, and place their bales of goods in the direction indicated, and in such manner, as, in case of need, to form a sort of fortification and defence. When all the messes are arranged in this way, the camp forms a hollow square, in the centre of which the horses are placed and staked firmly to the ground. The guard consists of from six to eight men, and is relieved three times each night, and so arranged that each gang may serve alternate nights. The captain of a guard (who is generally also the captain of a mess) collects his people at the appointed hour, and posts them around outside the camp in such situations that they may command a view of the environs, and be ready to give the alarm in case of danger. The captain cries the hour regularly by a watch, and all's well, every fifteen minutes, and each man of the guard is required to repeat this call in rotation, which if any one should fail to do, it is fair to conclude that he is asleep, and he is then immediately visited and stirred up. In case of defection of this kind, our laws adjudge to the delinquent the hard sentence of walking three days. As yet, none of our poor fellows have incurred this penalty, and the probability is, that it would not at this time be enforced, as we are yet in a country where little molestation is to be apprehended; but in the course of another week's travel, when thieving and ill-designing Indians will be out, lying on our trail, it will be necessary that the strictest watch be kept, and, for the preservation of our persons and property, that our laws shall be rigidly enforced." Proceeding onwards, the party passed through a friendly tribe of Kaw Indians, with whom they traded a little. Some parts of the prairies are described by Mr Townshend as beautiful :-"The little streams are fringed with a thick growth of pretty trees and bushes, and the buds are now swelling, and the leaves expanding, to welcome back the spring.' The birds, too, sing joyously amongst them-grosbeaks, thrushes, and buntings-a merry and musical band. I am particularly fond of sallying out early in the morning, and strolling around the camp. The light breeze just bends the tall tops of the grass on the boundless prairie, the birds are commencing their matin carollings, and all nature looks fresh and beautiful horses of the camp are lying comfortably on their sides, and seem, by the glances which they give me in passing, to know that their hour of toil is approaching, and the patient kine are ruminating in happy unconsciousness." The Some difficulties were encountered in passing one of the larger streams, and in a day or two afterwards the camp was visited by three Indians of the Otto tribe. These people smoked the pipe of peace with the captain, and were otherwise friendly; but one of them was regarded with the most malignant looks by Richardson, an old weather-beaten hunter, who afterwards explained the cause of his anger to Mr Townshend. "Why,' said he, that Injen that sat opposite to you is my bitterest enemy. I was once going down alone from the rendezvous with letters for St Louis, and when I arrived on the lower part of the Platte river (just a short distance beyond us here), I fell in with about a dozen Ottos. They were known to be a friendly tribe, and I therefore felt no fear of them. I dismounted from my horse, and sat with them upon the ground. It was in the depth of winter; the ground was covered with snow, and the river was frozen solid. While I was thinking of nothing but my dinner, which I was then about preparing, four or five of the cowards jumped on me, mastered my rifle, and held my arms fast, while they took from me my knife and tomahawk, my flint and steel, and all my ammunition. They then loosed me, and told me to be off. I begged them, for the love of God, to give me my rifle and a few loads of ammunition, or I should starve before I could reach the settlements. No-I should have nothing, and if I did not start off immediately, they would throw me under the ice of the river. And, continued the excited hunter, while he ground his teeth with bitter and uncontrollable rage, that man that sat opposite to you was the chief of them. He recognised me, and knew very well the reason why I would not smoke with him. I tell you, sir, if ever I meet that man in any other situation than that in which I saw him this morning, I'll shoot him with as little hesitation as I would shoot a deer. Several years have passed since the perpetration of this outrage, but it is still as fresh in my memory as ever; and I again declare, that if ever an opportunity offers, I will kill that man.' 'But, Richardson, did they take your horse also? To be sure they did, and my blankets, and every thing I had, except my clothes.' 'But how did you subsist until you reached the settlements? You had a long journey before you.' Why, set to trappin' prairie squirrels with little nooses made out of the hairs of my head.' I should remark that his hair was so long that it fell in heavy masses on his shoulders. But squirrels in winter, Richardson I never heard of squirrels in winter.' "Well, but there was plenty of them, though; little white ones, that lived among the snow."" Such is a trait of human nature in these far-western regions. On the 18th of May, the party arrived at the Platte river, beyond which herds of buffalo begin to make their appearance, thousands, or rather tens of thousands, in a single herd. They generally fly from hunters, and are overtaken and shot only with great difficulty. Being shy and keen of scent, they cannot be easily approached in silence. The Indians resort to a remarkable stratagem for killing them. "The skin of a calf is properly dressed, with the head and legs left attached to it. The Indian envelopes himself in this, and with his short bow and a brace of arrows, ambles off into the very midst of a herd. When he has selected such an animal as suits his fancy, he comes close alongside of it, and, without noise, passes an arrow through his heart. One arrow is always sufficient, and it is generally delivered with such force, that at least half the shaft appears through the opposite side. The creature totters, and is about to fall, when the Indian glides around, and draws the arrow from the wound lest it should be broken. A single Indian is said to kill a great number of buffaloes in this way, before any alarm is communicated to the herd." us. The surprise of our traveller was very great on first seeing one of the large buffalo herds. "Towards evening, on rising a hill, we were suddenly greeted by a sight which seemed to astonish even the oldest amongst The whole plain, as far as the eye could discern, was covered by one enormous mass of buffalo. Our vision, at the very least computation, would certainly extend ten miles, and in the whole of this great space, including about eight miles in width from the bluffs to the river bank, there was apparently no vista in the incalculable multitude. It was truly a sight that would have excited even the dullest mind to enthusiasm. Our party rode up to within a few hundred yards of the edge of the herd, before any alarm was communicated; then the bulls-which are always stationed around as sentinels-began pawing the ground, and throwing the earth over their heads; in a few moments they started in a slow clumsy canter; but as we neared them, they quickened their pace to an astonishingly rapid gallop, and in a few minutes were entirely beyond the reach of our guns, but were still sc ncar that their enormous horns, and long shaggy beards, were very distinctly seen. Shortly after we encamped, our hunters brought in the choice parts of five that they had killed." Of the animals belonging to those vast herds which the hunters kill, only a small portion is usually taken for food. Mr Townshend and two of his associates having killed a bull buffalo, they proceeded to cut it up in the following approved manner :-"The animal was first raised from his side where he had lain, and supported upon his knees, with his hoofs turned under him; a longitudinal incision was then made from the nape or anterior base of the hump, and continued backward to the loins, and a large portion of the skin from each side removed; these pieces of skin were placed upon the ground, with the under surface uppermost, and the fleeces, or masses of meat, taken from along the back, were laid upon them. These fleeces, from a large animal, will weigh, perhaps, a hundred pounds each, and comprise the whole of the hump on each side of the vertical processes (commonly called the hump ribs), which are attached to the vertebræ. The fleeces are considered the choice parts of the buffalo, and here, where the game is so abundant, nothing else is taken, if we except the tongue and an occasional marrow-bone. This, it must be confessed, appears like a useless and unwarrantable waste of the goods of Providence; but when are men economical, unless compelled to be so by necessity?" The food of the hunters consists for months of nothing but this kind of buffalo meat, roasted, and cold water-no bread of any kind. On this rude fare they enjoy the best health, clear heads, and high spirits; and what more, says Mr T., does a man require to make him happy? The country now began to alter in appearance for the worse. Having passed the Platte river, a considerable tributary of the Missouri, the party arrived on a great sandy waste, forming a kind of upper tableland of North America (about latitude 42 degrees north, and longitude 100 degrees to 105 degrees west of Greenwich)-a region without a single green thing to vary and enliven the scene, and abounding in swarms of ferocious little black gnats, which assail the eyes, ears, nostrils, and mouth of the unhappy traveller. It is necessary, however, to pursue a route in this direction, in order to find accessible passes through the Rocky Mountains, which are impenetrable more to the north-west. Making the best of their way over the inhospitable desert, and fortunately escaping any roving bands of unfriendly Indians, the cavalcade struck through a range of stony mountains, called the Black hills, and in a few days afterwards came in sight of the Wind river mountains, which form the loftiest land in the northern continent, and are at all times covered with snow of dazzling whiteness. From the great height above the level of the sea, which the party had attained, the climate was found to be cold, even although in summer; the plains were covered only by the scantiest herbage, and frequently there was great difficulty in obtaining a supply of water for the camp. The painfulness of the journey, therefore, was now extreme, both for man and beast. At length, on the 19th of June, the party arrived on the Green river, or Colorado of the west, which they forded, and encamped upon a spot which was to form a rendezvous for all the mountain companies who left the states in spring, and also the trappers who come from various parts with furs collected by them during the previous year. Unfortunately, our traveller in passing the river was subjected to a severe ducking, which brought on a fever, and confined him to his tent for several days. His account of the encampment affords a glimpse of the wild life led by the mixed race of trappers and hunters. "June 22.-We are now lying at the rendezvous. W. Sublette, Captains Serre, Fitzpatrick, and other leaders, with their companies, are encamped about a mile from us on the same plain, and our own camp is crowded with a heterogeneous assemblage of visitors. The principal of these are Indians, of the Nez Percé, Banneck, and Shoshoné tribes, who come with the furs and peltries which they have been collecting at the risk of their lives during the past winter and spring, to trade for ammunition, trinkets, and fire water.' There is, in addition to these, a great variety of personages amongst us; most of them calling themselves white men, French-Canadians, half-breeds, &c., their colour nearly as dark, and their manners wholly as wild, as the Indians with whom they constantly associate. These people, with their obstreperous mirth, their whooping, and howling, and quarrelling, added to the mounted Indians, who are constantly dashing into and through our camp, yelling like fiends, the barking and baying of savage wolf-dogs, and the incessant cracking of rifles and carbines, render our camp a perfect bedlam. A more unpleasant situation for an invalid could scarcely be conceived. I am confined closely to the tent with illness, and am compelled all day to listen to the hiccoughing jargon of drunken traders, and the swearing and screaming of our own men, who are scarcely less savage than the rest, being heated by the detestable liquor which circulates freely among them. It is very much to be regretted that at times like the present there should be a positive necessity to allow the men as much rum as they can drink; but this course has been sanctioned and practised by all the leaders of parties who have hitherto visited these regions, and reform cannot be thought of now. The principal liquor in use is alcohol diluted with water. It is sold to the men at three dollars the pint! Tobacco, of very inferior quality, such as could be purchased in Philadelphia at about ten cents per pound, here fetches two dollars! and every thing else in proportion. There is no coin in circulation, and these articles are therefore paid for by the independent mountain-men, in beaver skins, buffalo robes, &c.; and those who are hired to the companies, have them charged against their wages. 30. Our camp here is a most lovely one in every respect, and as several days have elapsed since we came, and I am convalescent, I can roam about the country a little and enjoy it. The pasture is rich and very abundant, and it does our hearts good to witness the satisfaction and comfort of our poor jaded horses. Our tents are pitched in a pretty little valley or indentation in the plain, surrounded on all sides by low bluffs of yellow clay. Near us flows the clear deep water of the Siskadee, and beyond, on every side, is a wide and level prairie, interrupted only by some gigantic peaks of mountains and conical butes in the distance. The river, here, contains a great number of large trout, some grayling, and a small narrowmouthed white fish, resembling a herring. They are all frequently taken with the hook, and, the trout particularly, afford excellent sport to the lovers of angling. Old Izaac Walton would be in his glory here, and the precautionary measures which he so strongly recommends in approaching a trout stream, he would not need to practise, as the fish are not shy, and bite quickly and eagerly at a grasshopper or minnow. Buffalo, antelopes, and elk, are abundant in the vicinity, and we are therefore living well." On the 2d of July the party bade adieu to the rendezvous, packed up their moveables, and journeyed along the bank of the river. The horses were much recruited by the long rest and good pasture, and, like their masters, were in excellent spirits for renewing the route across the wilderness. PORT-ROYAL AND ITS SOLITARIES. THE word " Port-Royal" must have repeatedly met the eye of general readers in connection with the names of various eminent writers of France, and must have excited a wish to know its meaning, and the object or objects to which it applied. Port-Royal, sometimes called Port-Royal-des-Champs (Port-Royal of the fields or country), was the title originally given to a conventual establishment for females, attached to the order of the Benedictines, and founded so early as the year 1204. Its site was about three leagues to the south of Versailles, and its foundress was Matilda, wife of Matthew de Marly, of the house of Montmorency. For four centuries the history of the convent was unmarked by any event of particular impor tance. Towards the close of that period, the establishment partook of the relaxation of discipline which gradually spread through so many of the cotemporary religious houses of the continent. A regenerator arose at length in the person of Maria Angelica Arnauld, who was appointed abbess of Port-Royal about the year 1608, and who speedily made the convent a model of order and discipline to all the similar institutions of France. The celebrity which she gave to it induced a number of the noblest ladies of the land, and even some of the princesses of the blood-royal, to take up successively their residence near Port-Royal, that they might participate in its religious exercises, and profit by the example and counsels there brought within their sight and reach. Succeeding events elevated Port-Royal into still greater notice. Towards the middle of the seventeenth century, Antoine Arnauld, doctor of the Sorbonne, and one who left a standard name in French literature, was led to fix his abode at Port-Royal, where, besides his sister the abbess, his mother and five others of her daughters, with no less than six of his nieces, had their permanent residence. Arnauld was accompanied in his retreat from the stir of the world by his brother Arnauld d'Andilly, Antoine Lemaistre, an advocate famous for his eloquence, and by Simon Lemaistre and Isaac Louis Lemaistre, brothers of Antoine, and the latter of them well known for his translation of the Bible. Five or six other individuals, all of them inen of talent and virtue, sought at the same period the seclusion of Port-Royal, disgusted with the follies of an age on which their lessons could make no impression. Their labours were more productive of good in the solitude to which they retired. Fixing their joint habitation near to the convent, they divided their time between the cultivation of their little lands, the instruction of the boarders of the convent, the education of young people confided to their care, and the composition of those learned works which have given immortality both to themselves and to Port-Royal. The "Logic" of Arnauld, the " Rudimentary Greek and Latin Treatises" of Lancelot, the "Ethics" of Nicole, and the " Ecclesiastical History" of Le Nain de Tillemont, are instances of the able and useful works which had their origin here. Port-Royal, in fact, became a famous school, where many statesmen as well as men of letters of great subsequent celebrity received their training. It was here that the distinguished poet, the elder Racine, was educated, and here were those seeds of virtue sown in his mind, which, repressed for a time by the seductive flatteries of the world, burst forth into light and vigour at a more advanced period of his career. Racine showed his sense of the benefits he had derived from Port-Royal, not only by devoting various poems to the celebration of its many local beauties-its gardens, fields, waters, and woods-but by writing a history of the convent itself, and also a memoir vindicating the name and fame of its inhabitants. The virtuous Pascal, also, who had a sister and a niece in the establishment, enrolled himself in the band of the solitaries of Port-Royal, and, although he had his permanent dwelling elsewhere, remained in intimate relations with them up to the period of his death. Thus it was, that, in an age of gaudy show and glitter, these poor conventual sisters, who could boast of no attractive renown apart from that derived from their sanctity of life, became as it were a common bond of CHAMBERS'S EDINBURGH JOURNAL. rested by order of a farmer, upon one of whose hay It has been mentioned that the name of Katerfelto ACCIDENTS IN THE COAL-MINES OF mentioned. They amount in all to the number of union--a tie to gather and bind together in one spot | names of the principal occupants of the mansion enall that was most eminent for rank, virtue, and learning, in the capital and country of France. From the year 1648 to 1679, Port-Royal enjoyed its greatest celebrity, and stood at its highest point of utility. But its very renown gradually led to its fall, by exciting an envious and hostile spirit in other sections of the religious establishment of the country. Moreover, its friends and supporters, Pascal and Arnauld, had distinguished themselves by their opposition to the sect of the Jesuits, then the most powerful clerical body in France, as well at court as elsewhere. Through these adverse agencies and influences, a blight fell on the prosperity of Port-Royal. It ceased to be a seat of learning and education. The great men who had adorned it died away one by one, and others were afraid or were forbidden to take their places and sustain its repute. By various arbitrary means, the sisterhood were reduced to one-fourth of their original numbers, and, in part, were dispersed over the land. But the enmity of the party in power did not rest here. "After long years of inveterate persecution," says the author of a supplement to Racine's History," the lieutenant of police, d'Argenson, bearing a royal warrant, and accompanied by various commissaries, notaries, and magistrates, as well as by three hundred policemen, took the road to the convent of Port-Royal early on the morning of the 29th of October 1709. On his arrival the lieutenant invested the building, took possession of the gates, caused all papers whatsoever to be delivered up, and formally put them under seal. When this part of his commission was ended, he announced the further orders with which he was charged to the sisterhood. They were in all a band of fifteen poor females, inclusive of the superior and seven lay or serving sisters. Without resistance, without protestation, without a murmur, they submitted themselves to their lot, chanting the while their accustomed closing services, in the midst of the men who pushed them from their home. Some of them were so aged and infirm that it was necessary to procure litters to take them away. They were conducted each to a different dwelling, as if their cruel enemies had resolved that no two of them should have the poor consolation of weeping together." The enemies of Port-Royal were not satisfied even with the expulsion of every living being from within its walls. On the 22d of January 1710, another royal edict was issued, and prompt, indeed, was its execution. The venerable building was razed to the ground, with all the separate edifices which had been successively raised around it for its visitants and friends. The materials were sold, and the destroyers of PortRoyal seemed desirous of effacing every trace of its foundations. Still there arose from the naked and desecrated spot a sweet-smelling savour, which was hateful to its ruthless enemies. The ashes of Lemaistre, Arnauld, Racine, and their kindred, yet lay there, and drew pilgrims to the scene. In 1711, the graves were opened, the mouldering bones of the illustrious dead torn from their resting-places, and scattered hither and thither, among the cemeteries of Paris and the adjoining villages! This might indeed he termed the closing scene of the Port-Royal communion, when its members were not allowed even to enjoy the fellowship of the tomb. But its enemies could not throw oblivion on the memory of that band of brothers and sisters, and, even with all their destructive zeal, they left on the scene some tangible and visible memorials of its former inhabitants. One who recently made a pilgrimage to the spot gives the following account of the appearance which it now presents to the traveller's eye :-"A little to the right of the road leading to Chevreuse and Dampierre, stands the vale formerly inhabited by the conventual sisterhood of Port-Royal. It occupies a low situation, and is of small extent, being not more than twenty minutes' walk in length, and about ten in breadth. It is a little amphitheatre, enclosed on all sides by gently rising heights. The road descends into the vale by a pretty sharp inclination, and when the traveller has reached the centre of the hollow, he sees nought but the clear sky above, and on each side the acclivities of the hills, covered half way up with verdure, and tufted with thick woods. Silence and repose hang over the scene, and one's first thought is, that no place could have been better chosen as a retreat for those who were weary of the din of the world. On the eastern side of the vale, a vault or cellar is to be seen, being all that now remains of the mansions of the Duchesses of Liancourt and Longueville, two ladies who were among the first to retreat to the neighbourhood of Port-Royal. On the western declivity stood once the dwelling of Arnauld and his friends, and of this a considerable portion has escaped the destroyers of 1710. It is a brick building of antique fashion, and is now inhabited, in a repaired state, by a gentleman who has retained with feelings of veneration the old carved wooden staircase, wormeaten though its materials be. The interior had been arranged into a series of little cabinets or rooms for study, and these the proprietor has also preserved in the order in which he found them. Above the door of one of these cabinets, these words are engraven: J. Racine. 1657, 1658 on another, A. Arnauld. 1655; and on a third, 'P. Nicole. 1657, 1658, 1659; indicating the inhabitants to whom these places had been specially devoted for a time. The proprietor has had a stone placed over his principal porch, with the KATERFELTO. IN that graphic and well-known passage of the "Task" "And Katerfelto, with his hair on end ventilation, explosions were necessarily of frequent tion of the safety-lamp into those collieries, in the tous loss of life, and destitution to those connected year 1815 or 1816, and of more improved methods of miners one of considerable danger and vicissitude, for occurrence, and attended with the most calamioccurrence of explosions. It was an event of common with the sufferers. This rendered the vocation of the occurrence for the miner to leave his home for his they were in a great measure unprotected against the subterranean occupation, in the enjoyment of the most corpse. Nor was the loss of life directly occasioned perfect health, and ere a few hours had elapsed, to be by those accidents, deplorable enough though it was, by any means the extent to which they were confined. brought back to his family a mangled and distorted The great number of individuals dependent on the sufferers, consisting of their widows and families, whom those accidents in the coal-mines suddenly and bereavement, and left to public protection, was plunged into one common state of helpless destitution not the least lamentable part of the evil. A few of the accidents arising from the explosion of hydrogen gas, which have taken place in the collieries of Northumberland and Durham, may be cited, to quency. About the close of the last century, seventygive the reader some idea of their extent and fretwo persons were killed in a colliery at North-Biddick, in the county of Durham. A similar accident happened at Lambton colliery, in the same county, on the 22d of August 1766, when it is stated that "the round, and the flash was as visible as a flash of lightnoise of the explosion was heard above three miles like balls out of a cannon, and every thing that resisted, ning," whilst the miners were forced up from the pit shared the same fate. By two explosions which oc curred in 1805, at Hepburn and Oxclose, forty-three On the 24th of May 1812, ninety-one persons were killed widows and one hundred and fifty-one children were left wholly unprotected and unprovided for. In 1808, ninety persons were killed in a coal-pit at Lumley. by an explosion at Felling colliery, near Gateshead, burial-ground of the church, at Lower Heworth, in three children to the protection of the public. In the leaving forty-one widows and one hundred and thirtythe county of Durham, there is a spiral square monufifty-seven persons suffered in the "Success Pit," near rative of this last-mentioned accident. In 1815, ment, with an inscription on a brass plate, commemowere destroyed at the Row Pit at Harraton. By three Newbottle, county of Durham. In 1817, thirty-eight men and boys were killed at Russel's Wallsend colexplosions in the Sheriff-Hill colliery, in 1815 and pit, Rainton. Many more such accidents might be 1817, fifty-one persons were killed. In 1821, fifty-two liery; and in 1823, fifty-three suffered at the Plainenumerated, but these will be sufficient to give the reader an idea of their extent and frequency. At his own wonders, wondering for his bread." The personage here alluded to was a distinguished at the close of last century. The name of Katerjuggler and quack doctor, who flourished in Britain felto, it is probable, was merely an assumed one, and certainly, if this was the case, the selection of it did credit to the magical professor's taste, as few names could be found more expressively appropriate to the German Doctor-and combined the profession of character he bore. He took the title of Doctor-a was written about the years 1782 and 1783. At that legerdemain with that of the art medical. The Task time, Dr Katerfelto was vending his nostrums to the people of London, who had then the misfortune to sustain a severe and very general attack of influenza. The Doctor, of course, knew the full value of mystery, and used it freely to enhance his medical pretensions. be suspected that the Doctor's remedies were innocent If any one got better or got worse on his hands, it is to attributable to the old principle, "Conceit can kill, alike of the good and the evil, and that the whole was Katerfelto was one of the last specimens of a class and conceit can cure." race of travelling mountebanks, half quacks, half that now live only in the pages of novelists-the In his journeys through England he was jugglers. accompanied by his wife and daughter, two black attendants, and, though last, not least in importance, two or three black cats, usually termed Katerfelto's Devils. This goodly company were all packed together in a huge old coach or caravan, which contained, besides, the wizard's stock of apparatus. On reachIn catastrophes of this kind (which are of much ing any town where it was thought fit to have an exhibition, the two sable (biped) assistants, dressed in antiquated green liveries with red collars, marched A portion of the merly), the friends of the sufferers consider themselves round the streets of the place, blowing trumpets, and expatiating on the wonderful powers and perform- less frequent occurrence at the present day than fordoctor's exhibitions was really of a rational and credit- peculiarly fortunate in being able to find and bury whilst others are so dreadfully shattered and mangled able nature, consisting of magnetic, electrical, and their remains, for it frequently happens that many humorous way. He was a good experimenter, and in the mine, far beyond the reach of the living; chemical experiments, which he explained in a lively, of the sufferers are never heard of, being buried alive seldom failed in any thing he tried. ment was the object of those who went to hear him, by the violence of the explosion, as to make their and in this they were not disappointed. His ap- identity, in many instances, a matter of painful diffiintermarriage, that when accidents occur in the mines, pearance was provocative of mirth, his long thin culty to their friends; in others, one of absolute imperson being commonly enveloped in a tawdry, old- possibility. As was stated in a previous paper* in this a square velvet cap, making him altogether as like as fashioned green gown, while his head was covered by Journal, the miners are so intimately connected by possible to the pictures of the old stage doctors, of there are few of the survivors who have not to feel the We have no account of the particular uses to which And it happens not unfrequently on such occasions, whom he was the genuine successor and representative. loss of some one more or less nearly related to them. he turned his feline familiars. One thing is certain, that there is some case which stands out in more or four of his sons, share in one common and untimely however, that he had brought them to a surprising affecting relief from the others, and excites a deeper seems to have flourished through a considerable part ample, where the father of a family, and perhaps three pitch of docility and apparent intelligence. Katerfelto and more general degree of commiseration; for exto mourn over their irreparable bereavement. of the last quarter of the eighteenth century. Sometimes, like the most of his class, he lived in compara- end, and a widow and a few helpless children remain must have had its due effect on the committee, namely, tive ease and affluence, and, at other times, found himself caged in jail, as a vagrant and impostor. witness before the Parliamentary Committee on AcciOccasionally, his experiments brought him into awk-dents in Mines in 1835, stated a circumstance which ward scrapes. While stopping at a small town in Yorkshire, on one of his journeys, he set up a fire- that after the accident at Felling, above mentioned, balloon, to the great amazement of the rustics around. But, in a few days afterwards, the conjuror was ar ances of Katerfelto and his cats. But amuse * Songs of the Northern Coal-Miners. A |