They pleaded that the fish was poisonous, and deadly to touch. I set them the example by dismounting and going into the water myself. I endeavoured to move the huge mass, but I might as well have hauled at a firmly-anchored man-of-war. At length, ashamed at seeing me working alone, they came to my assistance; and adding to their first ejaculation concerning the unity of the Deity, "that Mohammed was his prophet," that I myself was the "son of a father without bowels," and that my "mother would probably be burned," they set to work, continuing to murmur at intervals that I was "a dog, and the father of dogs," and that my fate would be Jehanum -Anglicè,"hell."

They succeeded at length in dragging my prize out of the water, and extending it on the sands, when it turned out to be a large specimen of the Ray. It measured, as I had guessed, about twelve feet, and I would gladly have carried it off bodily, but this was pronounced at once to be impracticable; so I was fain to content myself with cutting off his tail, which I slung, for the purpose of drying it in the sun, across a large wicker compartment containing some live turkeys-part of our provisions for the Desert-which was strapped upon the back of one of our camels.

It was a triumph for the Arabs, though a deadly blow to us, when it was discovered at the end of the day's journey that the turkeys had been alleviating the ennui of their Desert trip by pecking at the tail, and that three out of the four had died in consequence. My private belief was that they had died of sunstroke, but it pleased the Arabs to humour their conviction of the poisonous nature of the fish, and they were by no means above that least consolatory of all remarks under tribulation, "I told you so."

The remainder of the tail was dried and brought safely home, and is now ending its days in the Kelso Museum.

It was my destiny that day to cross the path of more than one sea-monster. We pitched our tents about five o'clock, still close to the shore; and whilst dinner was preparing over our charcoal fire, I determined to enjoy the luxury of a cold bath. Being a good swimmer I cruised out at once towards a coral reef which I observed at some little distance, and having reached it I landed upon its flat surface, which was covered where I stood by about a foot and a half of water, as bright and transparent as glass, so that I had no difficulty in discovering that there was, close to the spot I had reached, a large crack or crevice about two feet in width, and apparently of interminable depth.

Into this crevice I peered in search of natural curiosities. I had not long to wait. Two huge brown antennæ, like the feelers of a lobster, only magnified many fold, gradually projected themselves from within the crevice; and although I could not distinctly make out the body corporate to which they belonged, yet I was so convinced that I had the good luck to have found a fine lobster, which might be convertible into pleasurable sensations of a stomachic character, that I determined to seize upon him and swim back to my dinner with my fish-course in my hand.

I knelt down upon the reef, and seizing one of the feelers with a vigorous grasp, I was preparing for a game of “pull devil, pull baker,” when to my horror the creature rose at me from his lair with the rapidity of a sailor climbing the ropes, and evidently prepared to do battle with as much unconcern as if I had been one of the spokes of Pharaoh's chariot wheels. To my startled brain the brute seemed to be about the size of a full grown porpoise; but of this I am certain, that I waited on the reef until I had seen fully three feet of his horrid carcase emerge from the hole, and then-shall I own it?—with a yell of alarm which must have been audible at Hebron, I plunged into the water and swam for my life!

At such moments they say strange ideas crowd the brain. I had a distinct vision of the action of an immense pair of sharp sugarnippers, with which, as a boy, I had often assisted the housekeeper to cut up the loaves of sugar. I felt the nippers upon my person,

I dived, ducked, and buffeted, not daring to look behind, but with a growing conviction that no efforts of mine could compete with those of a combative lobster, measuring three feet to the commencement of his tail. How I escaped I know not, but when I got to shore intact, after looking around to see if there had been any witnesses to my ignominious flight, I sat down and fairly laughed till I cried, at the ludicrous picture I must have presented.

The only other bathing adventure I met with in the Red Sea was the sudden and close contiguity of a seal, its bullet head bobbing up and down from the water, whilst he stared fixedly at me with his beautiful eyes, as if not quite making up his mind whether I was fair game for a nibble. However, this was pleasant pastime compared with the aggressive lobster, if lobster it was.

But after these comic adventures we very nearly experienced a real tragedy. The next day we again pitched our tents near the sea coast, and it occurred to my big German servant, who went by the name of the Gorilla,

that he would emulate his master's swimming feats; so after looking to his duties in our tents, the Gorilla took to the water. He was a good swimmer, and struck out to a considerable distance from the shore.

I was strolling with R upon the beach as the man was returning from his cruise, when, happening to watch his movements, I distinctly observed at a short distance in his rear, that fatal and unmistakeable back fin of the shark, which always obtrudes from the water when it is in pursuit, and the sight of which has so often struck terror into the boldest hearts. It was evident the man was totally unaware of his peril. I seized R- by the wrist and pointed towards it. He understood in a moment, and both had the presence of mind not to utter a sound or to make any agitating gesture. Had the servant become suddenly alarmed his fate would have been sealed, for any rapid and agitated movement would have sharpened the appetite of the voracious monster. No earthly aid could avail.

We watched the

dreadful black mark following the poor fellow, now gaining upon him, now dodging him; at every moment we expected the dash and spring | preceding the crimson streak of gore, after which all is over. I felt sick with apprehension. I wish my worst enemy may never experience a more terrible moment than that of witnessing an impending death of so horrid a kind, without the power of affording the slightest assist

ance.

At length when the poor man arrived safely on shore, I embraced him with joy, to his great confusion and astonishment.

The mode of travelling in the Desert has so often been described that I need do no more than add my tribute to its charms. There is no life to be compared to it; the air you breathe is an elixir. In the Desert we learn for the first time what hunger really is, and what depths of repose its fatigues can open to us. The Arabian heaven is indeed "poured upon our nights," and although the Arabian sun during the day may be a little too hot, yet the delicious coolness of the evening atones for the previous frizzle. Every incident, however trivial, is an excitement. A strange Arab on his swift dromedary is seen in the horizon, perhaps a spy from a hostile tribe—faint hopes of a skirmish, and a careful looking to pistols and fire-arms; a group of stunted shrubs indicating the presence of some "diamond of the Desert ;" the comfortable encampment in the evening, so home-like that one leaves the very chicken bones the next morning with regret. All is delightful, strange, new, and exhilarating; and I sit down again by my sea-coal fire with a deep feeling of thankfulness that I have experienced the delights of Eastern travel.

THE DEATH OF BUCKINGHAM.

ON Saturday, the 23rd of August, 1628, there was a crowd of people in a house which still stands in the High Street of Portsmouth. Courtiers and soldiers and placemen were gathered round one of scarcely less influence in England than the king himself. The first Duke of Buckingham was fitting out, at the command of Charles I., a third expedition for the relief of the French Protestants of La Rochelle. Twice already the like expeditions had failed, one under himself, the other under his brother-in-law, the Earl of Denbigh. third was destined to be too late for use. The people of La Rochelle were reduced to sur| render to Buckingham's rival, Richelieu, within sight of the English forces.

This

The expedition was nearly ready. On this morning, between nine and ten o'clock, Buckingham was going to the king, who lay about four miles from Portsmouth. His carriage waited at the door. He had just risen from breakfast, in animated discussion with the Duke de Soubize and some other French gentlemen. Their arguments had given rise to characteristic gesticulations and loud tones of voice. As the duke passed through a dark lobby from the inner room where he had breakfasted, to the hall, to go to his carriage, in the centre of peers and officers, and many of his own servants, an unknown hand was raised over him holding a dagger, and with one backhanded blow struck death to his heart, almost before the courtier by his side had ceased to speak and turned away. And out of the gloom of the passage came a voice which said, "God have mercy on thy soul." No second stroke was needed. The weapon was left in the wound. The duke fell forward against a table, turning as he fell, and staggering, so that those about him thought he had a fit; for no one saw the blow delivered. His own hand plucked the knife out of his left side. Blood poured from the wound and from his mouth. one word, "Villain!" he fell under the table, dead.

With

When they who stood by saw the blood they thought the blow had been struck by one of the French gentlemen. The words of their discussion had been heard but not understood, and now the angry tone of them was remembered. For awhile their lives were in peril, but the cooler sense of a few of the bystanders restrained the rest, and saved the suspected gentlemen for examination. All were so startled and horror-struck, that "within the space of not many minutes after the fall of the body, and removal thereof into the first room, there was not a living creature in either of the

chambers.

The assassin did not need this paper to make him known. He had no mind to escape. Evidently he had expected to be killed on the spot. He never wanted resolution, before or after his deed. Many officers and gentlemen pressed into the house, crying, "Where is the villain? Where is the butcher?" Immediately Felton came forward with a bold face, drawing his sword, and saying, "I am the man. Here I am." Swords were drawn on all sides at once, and he would have been killed red-handed; but Sir Thomas Morton, Carleton, and others, with difficulty rescued him, and took him into a private room.

They found that the assassin was a dis

contented lieutenant, who had served under the Duke of Buckingham in the first expedition to La Rochelle, where he had done good service. In auswer to their questions, he declared that

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"he was partly discontented for want of eighty pounds pay which was due to him; and for that he being a lieutenant of a company of foot, the company was given over his head unto another, and yet, hee sayd, that that did not move him to this resolution, but that hee, reading the Remonstrance of the House of Parliament, it came into his mind, that in committing the act of killing the Duke, hee should do his country great good service. And hee sayd that to-morrow he was to be prayed for in London ... at a church in Fleet Street Conduit, and, as for a man much discontented in mind."

When they saw how readily he told all he knew, they would not allow him to be questioned further, "thinking it much fitter for the Lords to examine him, and to finde it out, and knowe from him whether he was encouraged and sett on by any to performe this wicked deed." At first they told him that the duke was not killed, but only seriously

wounded, and not without hopes of recovery. But Felton smiled, and said that he knew well that the duke had received a blow which ended all their hopes. Then he was taken in safe custody to the governor's house, and examined at once.

About three weeks later, on a Friday night in September, the prisoner was brought to the Tower by water, "being put into the same lodging where Sir John Elliott lay, and allowed two dishes of meat at each meal." After about two months, "when no man expected any such thing," one morning "before break of day" ho was taken from the Tower to the Gatehouse, and between six and seven o'clock the same morning was brought by the sheriff and many armed men to the bar of the King's Bench. "His indictment being read, he confessed the fact, but added that he did it not maliciously, but out of an intent for the good of his country." Religious and patriotic fanaticism had acted upon his naturally sullen and melancholic temperament, and joined with his desire of personal revenge, brought about his crime. He thought he did God service in killing this great enemy of religion and of the country. No one had incited him. His own conscience alone had prompted him. His conscience did not condemn him. His sense of right had nerved his arm and directed his weapon-so he persuaded himself. duke was a 'public enemy, the cause of every national grievance, of whom England would be well rid. He also himself had suffered from the carelessness or the caprice of Buckingham. Public and personal hatred thus met in him. He would revenge the church, and the state, and himself, with one blow. Now he had accomplished his aim, and was content.

The

At his trial "Mr. Attorney made a speech in aggravation of the murder; . . . he produced the knife in open court.” It had been bought for tenpence "in a by-cutler's shop of Tower-hill." The sheath of it he had sewed to the lining of his pocket, that he might at any moment draw the blade with one hand, for he had injured the other. "Then Justice Jones, being the ancient on the bench," gave sentence that he should be hanged until he was dead. His execution was carried out at Tyburn, on the 19th November of the same year. Afterwards his body was hung in chains on Southsea Common, close to Portsmouth, on a spot which tradition still points out. At Tyburn it is said that he testified very many signs of repentance. "He was very long a dying."

The favourite of two kings, endowed with every grace of manner and of fashion, of rank and wealth, it required a stronger head and a

sounder heart than Buckingham's to bear the perils of his place. Beginning as a simple gentleman, he passed from stage to stage of royal favour, till Charles I. made him Duke of Buckingham. He exercised arbitrary power, almost without limit. The nation was governed without rule at the favourite's caprice. The crown was degraded by the favourite's whims. Prudent people were set aside to make room for the favourite himself. Personally brave, but utterly incompetent as a general, his egregious military blunder before La Rochelle and the consequent failure of his expedition, is not to be wondered at. He disturbed the peace of the kingdom. He ruined English relations with foreign courts. He sacrificed honester men to the advancement of his own influence. He presumed to lift his eyes, and not without favour, to the Queen of France. He dared to raise his hand to strike the heir to the throne of England. gant a subject scarce ever was known. maintaining to the last a strange ascendancy over the mind of the king, he was at the moment of his death the most unpopular man in England. Even at this distance of time the verdict of his own age as to his character cannot be reversed.

So arroThough

For ever shall she be in praise,
By wise or good forsaken:
Named softly as the household name
Of one whom God hath taken.

MRS. E. BARRETT BROWNING.

COUSIN Miriam ; dear, kind, patient Cousin Miriam. For I will tell you all about her, Grace, as I promised I would on this day, her birthday. On this June evening, while we two sit together here in this pleasant summerhouse, where she and I used to sit on those other June evenings that seem so far away now. I will try to make you know her as I knew her; see her as I saw her as I see her still (looking back through the soft blue distance of years), very good, very beautiful, very patient. I will try to draw her picture faithfully, as truly as I can, but striving my very best. I know that, after all, my portrait will

fall far short of the original; still, I will do my best, Grace, my very best. First, shall I tell you what it was that rendered her so doubly dear to our hearts ?--a precious treasure to be kept, guarded, shielded by our love from the storms and rough winds that blew outside our world our quiet, calm, stormless world of home; a sacred gift to be consecrated there; valued, tended, cherished day by day;-shall I tell you what it was, Grace? Our Miriam was deaf and dumb.

Yet she was the life of our life, joy of our joys, soother of our pain. For all the shadow that rested upon her and around her, -the shadow of a great silence, the deep mysterious hush of this world's music and voices, the absence of all sweet sounds; to whom the birds sang in vain summer after summer, and bees hummed dreamily, and little

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