farther in this direction. Thanks to this circumstance, we found ourselves all of a sudden in presence of a vertical wall of mist, the height of which was estimated at 12,000 feet at least, for it penetrated to the bottom of the valley of Lauterbrunnen, and rose many thousand feet above our heads. As the temperature was below the freezing point, the minute drops of the mist were transformed into crystals of ice, which reflected in the sun all the colours of the

rainbow; one would have said that it was a mist of gold which sparkled around us. It was a spectacle at once terrible and attractive.

When we had all again returned to the elbow or projecting angle mentioned above, Jacob poured out a glass of wine for each of us, and we drank with great feeling to the health of Switzerland."

After some remarks on the form of the mountain, M. Desor proceeds to state, that the thermometer sunk to 26 degrees Fahrenheit, but they did not feel the cold." The sky over our heads was perfectly clear, support. At about thirteen, when already he had latter style, he wrought many good verses, as in the

and of so deep a blue that it approached to black; we endeavoured to discover the stars in it, which are said to be visible during the day at great heights, but we did not succeed. It has been pretended that this deep tint is only the effect of the contrast with the snowy surfaces which surround the observer on all sides. But if this were the case, the intensity of the hue would be equal in every part of the celestial vault. Now, this is precisely what did not take place.

To our great surprise, we discovered on the surface of the exposed rock, as well as on the fragments detached from it, many lichens in a very fresh state, some of which occupied a surface of many inches in diameter. We could not expect to find living beings at such a height; it seemed that even the Podurella of the glaciers did not ascend thus far, for we did not meet with one. To make up for this, we perceived a hawk hovering in the air above our heads. One would have said that our presence excited its curiosity, for it described many circles around us.

There is another point on which it remains for me to say a single word, and that is, the influence of the air, in elevated situations, on the human frame. Many naturalists and physiologists will doubtless expect that some new facts were observed by us; but I must confess, that during the whole time we were on the summit, and also during the ascent, we experienced none of those occurrences, such as nausea, bleeding at the nose, ringing of the ears, acceleration of the pulse, and so many other inconveniences which those who have ascended Mont Blanc tell us they were subject to. Must we ascribe this to the difference of 1500 feet, which there is between the height of Mont Blanc and that of the Jungfrau? Or rather, should we not seek the cause in the habit we had contracted while living for many weeks at the height of near 8000 feet?" After fixing a pole with a handkerchief upon it in the snow of the peak, the party commenced their descent at four o'clock. The steep slope down to the Col de Rott-thal had to be descended backwards, foot after foot being carefully retraced in the steps formerly cut by the guides in ascending. This part of the journey occupied a full hour, and it must have been one of great peril. The remainder of the descent was performed without any remarkable difficulty or adventure, and a little before midnight, they regained their lodgings at the Moril chalets."

following piece, entitled Our Auld Hearthstane :—

"Where ance the cosie fire was bien,
The winter rain-drap owrie fa's;
My father's floor wi' grass is green,

And roofless are the crumblin' wa's.
Auld thochts, auld times, upo' my heart
Are backward rowin' ane by ane:
We'll bow our houghs, and hae a crack
About them on our auld hearthstane!
Our laigh cot-house I mind fu' weel:
On ae side mither spinning sat,
Droning auld sonnets to her wheel-
And purring by her side the cat.
Anent was sair-toil'd father's chair,
Wha tauld us stories, sad and lane,
O' puir folk's waes, until we wish'd
Them a' beside our cosh hearthstane.
And when the supper-time was o'er,

The BEUK was tane, as it should be,
And Heaven had its trysted hour
Aneath that sooty auld roof-tree:
Syne ilka wean was sung to sleep

Wi' sangs o' deeds and ages gane;
And rest was there until the sun

Cam' blinkin' on our auld hearthstane."

and at the lowest ebb of their fortunes, many of the slender in figure, with pleasing features, and a pair
best blessings of life must have mingled with and of large dark eyes, which Mary Howitt declared to
sweetened their toils and hardships. That could not
be the finest she had ever seen. Though he was, in
some circumstances, jealous and reserved, kindness
have been other than a cheerful as well as a happy readily brought out at any time all the native softness
home and hearth, from which sprung the germs of and suavity of his character. His aspect and demea-
Nicoll's poetry-his songs, his descriptions of rustic nour spoke strongly of that nervous temperament
manners, and his portraits of rustic contemporaries." which gives such an impetus to the mental organisa-
Like Tasso, he could speak at nine months, and read tion, and is so apt to wear it out, and "fret the pigmy
before he was five years old; his education being al-body to decay." The bulk of his poetry, accordingly,
most solely the gift of a mother whose character seems
appears rather the emanation of ardent and enthu-
siastic feeling, than of any of the deeper sources of
to have included much of the heroine. The southern thought. He is the Körner of the young, lowly, and
reader will be surprised to hear of a boy herding cows, aspiring the class to which he himself belonged. It
and in that situation reading the classic productions is this class of his poems which are the most original
of English intellect, hired by his own earnings from a and expressive: we think he fails, comparatively, in
parish library. From eight years of age, this studious the descriptive, and more decidedly so in the attempts
boy had to depend entirely on his own resources for which he has made at the delineation of rustic cha-
racter and life in his native dialect. Yet, even in the
begun to write in verse, he bound himself apprentice to
a wine-merchant and grocer in Perth, and he seems
to have all but served out the full period of seven
years. A keen and fiery genius, which had not passed
through the brakes of poverty without some exaspera-
tion from its thorns, came to maturity at the time
when the cry for reform was making soberer men
frantic, and he eagerly imbibed the most extreme of
what are called radical politics. His opinions gene-
rally were such as a youth in his situation, self-edu-
cated, uncorrected by intercourse with more expe-
rienced and deep-read men, and perhaps a little spoilt
by flatterers of his own order, is but too apt to form.
By and by, he scribbled for newspapers and spoke in
debating clubs; and he was little more than twenty
when his writings made him known to literary per-
sons in Edinburgh, who could appreciate his talents.
Meanwhile, the poverty of his family continued the
same, though his noble-minded mother made every
exertion to stem it. With something less than twenty
pounds, raised by this excellent woman, the young
poet commenced business with a circulating library at
Dundee a line of life which rather favoured than
obstructed his literary pursuits. The concern was
necessarily a small one, and its profits extremely
limited to help him on, his mother, though living
thirty miles off, saved him some otherwise unavoidable
domestic expenses, and sent him from her humble
home regular supplies of the oaten bread which frugal
Scotland still largely uses. How striking a contrast is
presented by these circumstances to the style of mind
which must have existed both in Nicoll and his mother,
as evinced by the following extract from a letter ad-
dressed by the one to the other in February 1836 :-
"That money of R.'s [the money borrowed that he
might commence business] hangs like a millstone about
my neck. If I had it paid, I would never borrow again
from mortal man. But do not mistake me, mother;
I am not one of those men who faint and falter in the
great battle of life. Cowardly is that man who bows
before the storm of life-who runs not the needful race
manfully, and with a cheerful heart. If men would
but consider how little of real evil there is in all the
ills of which they are so much afraid-poverty in-
cluded-there would be more virtue and happiness,
and less world and mammon-worship on earth than is.
back to griefs which are past, and forward with fear
Half the unhappiness of life springs from looking
to the future. That is not my way. I am deter-
mined never to bend to the storm that is coming, and
never to look back on it after it has passed. Pain,
poverty, and all the other wild beasts of life which so
affright others, I am so bold as to think I could look
in the face without shrinking, without losing respect
for myself, faith in man's high destinies, and trust in
God. There is a point which it costs much mental
toil and struggling to gain, but which, when once
gained, a man can look down from, as a traveller from
a lofty mountain, on storms raging below, while he is
point in life I will not say, but I feel myself daily
walking in sunshine. That I have yet gained this
nearer it."

LIFE AND POETRY OF ROBERT NICOLL.
ROBERT NICOLL died in the latter part of the year
1837, in his twenty-fourth year, after having drawn
some attention to his name by the publication of a
volume of poems, and the able and ardent style in
which he conducted, for a short time, an English pro-
vincial newspaper. A second edition of the poems,
containing many pieces not before published, and
having a memoir of the author prefixed, has been,
with a characteristic disinterestedness, presented to
the public by Nicoll's early patron and best friend,
William Tait of Edinburgh. From this volume, we
learn that Mr Nicoll was emphatically a child of
poverty. His father, a small farmer in the parish of
Auchtergaven, in Perthshire, "had become security, The most assiduous industry, perfect purity of life
to the amount of five or six hundred pounds, for a and heart, and the kind wishes of many friends, could
connexion by marriage, who failed and absconded; He continued in it a twelvemonth, and during that
not ensure bread to the poet in his present situation.
and the utter ruin of his own family was the almost time published his poems, which received much favour-
immediate consequence. He gave up his entire pro-able notice from the press, and made him extensively
perty to satisfy the creditors of this individual; he
lost even the lease of his farm, and, with his wife and
several young children, left the farm-house, and be-
came a day-labourer on the fields he had lately rented,
with nothing to sustain his wife and himself save the
consciousness of unblemished and unblamed integrity.
Robert Nicoll was thus, from the date of his earliest

recollection, the son of a very poor man, the inmate of a very lowly home, the eldest of a struggling family. Field labour was the daily lot of his father, and, at certain seasons of the year, of his mother also, as far as was compatible with the care of her young and increasing family; and the children, as soon as they were considered fit for labour, were one by one set to work. Yet that goodness and mercy which temper the severest lot of the virtuous poor, were around them;

known. The fame which he thus acquired, joined to
the exertions of his friend Mr Tait, obtained for him
the situation of editor of the Leeds Times, and he re-
moved accordingly to that town. He entered the
field of his editorial duties as a young Chippeweyan
flings himself amongst his enemies in his first battle.
His writings displayed a boldness and energy which
were only the more striking from the strong evidences
which the author gave that his heart was in every
word he uttered. Amidst a host of oppressive duties,
he remembered an early attachment, and made its
young and amiable object his bride. But studies
pursued in boyhood, when tired nature called for re-
creation, and an incessant subjection now to the ex-
citement and exhaustion of newspaper life, under-
mined the constitution of the young bard, and he
sunk under consumption before he had been an editor
much above a year.

Nicoll was a youth of gentlemanlike appearance,

The most characteristic style of Nicoll is seen in such poems as that entitled Thoughts of Heaven, which we quote entire :—

"High thoughts!

They come and go,

Like the soft breathings of a list'ning maiden,
While round me flow

The winds, from woods and fields with gladness laden:
When the corn's rustle on the ear doth come-
When the eve's beetle sounds its drowsy hum-
When the stars, dew-drops of the summer sky,
Watch over all with soft and loving eye-
While the leaves quiver
By the lone river,
And the quiet heart
From depths doth call
And garners all-
Earth grows a shadow
Forgotten whole,
And Heaven lives
In the bless'd soul!

High thoughts!

They are with me

When, deep within the bosom of the forest,
Thy morning melody

Abroad into the sky, thou, throstle, pourest.
When the young sunbeams glance among the trees-
When on the ear comes the soft song of bees--
When every branch has its own favourite bird
And songs of summer, from each thicket heard!-
Where the owl flitteth,
Where the roe sitteth,
And holiness

High thoughts!

Seems sleeping there;
While nature's prayer
Goes up to heaven

In purity,

Till all is glory

And joy to me!

They are my own

When I am resting on a mountain's bosom,
And see below me strown

The huts and homes where humble virtues blossom;
When I can trace each streamlet through the meadow-.
When I can follow every fitful shadow-
When I can watch the winds among the corn,
And see the waves along the forest borne;
Where blue-bell and heather
Are blooming together,
And far doth come
The Sabbath bell,
O'er wood and fell;

High thoughts!
They visit us

I hear the beating
Of Nature's heart:
Heaven is before me-
God! Thou art!

In moments when the soul is dim and darken'd;
They come to bless,

After the vanities to which we hearken'd:
When weariness hath come upon the spirit-
(Those hours of darkness which we all inherit)-
Bursts there not through a glint of warm sunshine,
A wing'd thought, which bids us not repine?
In joy and gladness,
In mirth and sadness,
Come signs and tokens:
Life's angel brings
Upon its wings

Those bright communings

The soul doth keep

Those thoughts of Heaven

So pure and deep!"

Lines like these, written by one who had only ceased to be a grocer's apprentice three years when he died,

are, we verily think, something of a wonder. As a specimen of his softer strain, the reader will be pleased with The Nameless Rivulet, an idea perhaps suggested to him by one of a few very poetical lines in Home's Douglas

"Or by some nameless stream's untrodden banks."

"We met within a Highland glen

Where, wandering to and fro

Amid the rushes and the broom,

A pilgrim thou didst go.

Tripping betwixt thy gowany banks
I heard thy tinkling feet,
While with thy solitary voice

The primrose thou didst greet!

Then, nameless stream, I imaged thee
A pure and happy child,
Whose soul is fill'd with guileless love,
Its brain with fancies wild;
Which wanders 'mid the haunts of men,
Through suffering, care, and fear,
Pouring its waking thoughts and dreams
In Nature's faithful ear!

Like brothers, streamlet, forth we fared,
Upon a July morn,

And left behind us rocky steep,

And mountain wastes forlorn.
Where'er thy murmuring footsteps stray'd,
Along with thee I went;

Thy haunts were Nature's fanes, and I
Was therewith well content.

Adown by meadows green we roved,

Where children sweet were playing,
We glided through the glens of green,
Where lambkins fair were straying.
We linger'd where thy lofty banks

Were clad with bush and tree,
And where the linnet's sweetest song
Was sung to welcome thee.

Then came the forest dark and deep;
As through its shade we went.
The leaves and boughs, with foliage bow'd,
Were with thy waters blent.

And through the leafy vale the sun
Fell lone and fitfully,

To kiss thy waves, that from the hills
Came flowing on with me.

And when we left the wild-wood's shade,
From fields of ripen'd grain
The reapers' song came sweetly down,
And thine replied again.

Away we went by hut and hall,

Away by cottage lone,

Now lingering by a patch of wood,

Now moving heedless on!

Where praying monks had been we pass'd,
And all was silent there,

Save when thy voice the echoes waked,
Which heard the hermit's prayer.
We pass'd by thickets green and old,
By craggy rocks so steep,

And o'er leaf-shadow'd waterfalls,
We cheerily did leap.

And then a spot upon us burst,
Where hills on either side
Rose up, all clad in coppice-wood,
Which rock and steep did hide.
The ivy clasp'd each stone and bush
Thou flow'dst along between;
While rock and river, bird and flower,
Fill'd up the glorious scene.

By happy homes of toiling men,
We this sweet day have pass'd,
And have enjoy'd each sight and sound,
As though it were our last:
And now we loiter lazily

Beneath the setting sun;
My journey ends when starlight comes-
Thine is not well begun!

Now, Highland streamlet, ere we part,
Which didst thou love the best
Of all we've seen since, silently,
We left thy Highland nest?
Lovest thou best the meadow green,
Or Highland valley grey?
Or lovest thou best, by hazel braes,
At eventide to stray?

Or dost thou love where forest trees
Thy little waves are laving?

Or wealthy fields, where golden grain,
Ripe, to the sun, is waving?
The rustle of thy fleety foot
Upon my ear doth fall-

Thou stream, like this full heart of mine,
Dost dearly love them all!

Without a name, and all unknown,

Fair streamlet though thou art,

Be still unchristen'd! but I'll keep

Thy murmurs in my heart.

My story of thy pilgrimage

Will to the careless tell

How much of love and beauty in
Unnoted things do dwell."

One anecdote before parting with this interesting volume. When the young poet became seriously ill at Leeds, his mother paid him a visit. On this point, the biographer has the following note, which must send a thrill through every bosom :-"There is much false and injurious delicacy among all the ranks of British society, in speaking of pecuniary matters; yet it would be almost a sin against the finer humanities, if this absurd feeling were to lead to the suppression of an anecdote of Nicoll's mother, which, besides being characteristic of the woman, illustrates the noble character of the peasant-matrons of Scotland. The Nicolls, it need not be told, were a very poor family; the mother nobly struggling to educate her children, and, by this means, to raise their condition to the level from whence misfortune alone had driven them. Mrs

Nicoll had by this time acquired some little property, Why, my dear sir, as for a steak-a regular good
solely by her own exertions and industry; but she steak-you must go to the Green Dragon, Brampton.
had no money to spare to defray the necessary ex-
The finest steak I ever ate in my life was there.
penses of a journey to Leeds, where her son lay, as
she must have feared, dying, and languishing to see
Beautiful border of fat-done to a turn-juicy-hot;
her. When a friend afterwards inquired how she capital pickles! Gemini! what a morsel!" and he
had been able to incur this expense, as poor Robert rubs his hands in an ecstacy of delight with the sa-
was in no condition to assist her even to this extent, voury reminiscence. "Now, again, for a mutton chop,
her blunt and noble reply was- Indeed, Mr I
shore for the siller.' Her wages, as a reaper, her
I would decidedly give the preference to the Black
'harvest fee,' was the only means by which she could
Bear at Bath. Splendid chops there, my dear sir-
honestly and independently fulfil her beloved son's splendid, regular South Downers! Bacon and beans!
dying wish, and accomplish the yearning desire of her Excellent dish-capital! The Tiger and Trumpeter,
own heart. It would indeed be a sin against what-York, for that. You get it there in first-rate style.
ever gives Scotland her proudest distinction among Hodge-podge!-Ah! you must come to Scotland for
the nations, to suppress this anecdote of Robert Nicoll
and his mother. It reveals things to which wealth that. I never get the right thing any where else.
and grandeur may in reverence bow their heads!" Saw it once tried at Chichester-downright failure-
murdered. Magnificent dish hodge-podge, my dear
sir, when well got up." Thus would our friend, if
questioned, discuss the interesting subject of good
living, to which he has always been a steady adherent.

THE BOX-SEAT MAN.

Most people who have been in the habit of travelling
a good deal by stage-coaches, will have observed, it is
presumed, that, go as soon as they might to the start-
ing-place, they have invariably found that the best
outside seat, namely, the box-seat, or seat beside the
driver, has been already secured by some fortunate
individual; the fact of its being so secured being inti-
mated, not by the personal presence of the said fortu-
nate individual, but by that of his representative, in
the shape of a many-caped drab greatcoat, which is
formally displayed on the much-envied seat, for the
express purpose of proclaiming prepossession, and
thus preventing all attempts at appropriation.

If you are yet but green on the road, that is, if you
have not yet been much in the way of stage-coach
travelling, this constant pre-occupation of the box-
seat by some particularly lucky person will, in all
probability, puzzle you a good deal for a time. You
will be unable to conceive who or what the mysteri-
ous owner of the many-caped drab greatcoat can be,
and will be much at a loss to understand how he
contrives to have his greatcoat always so timeously
deposited on the much-desired seat, since, as already
remarked, come as early as you please, the many-
caped coat is sure to be before you.

An interest, too, of the kind excited by mystery, attaches to the owner of the coat, and you each time look out for his appearance with a good deal of anxious curiosity. You do not yet know that the owner of the drab greatcoat is an especial favourite of the driver, and of the guard too for that matter, and, indeed, a general favourite on the road. Not being aware of this, you do not know that the extraordinary apparent good fortune which secures him, the box-seat is the result of a conspiracy amongst waiter, boots, chambermaid, guard, and coachman, who each and all take an interest in having the greatcoat dispatched betimes to the coach, placed on the seat so often mentioned, and kept and defended there against all comers deadly, until replaced by the man himself. Only think, gentle reader, what chance you can have of obtaining that seat ! Why, you might as well hope to get upon the woolsack.

With perhaps occasionally some little difference of feature, the box-seat man is the same every where, and has been so from time immemorial. He is a stout, jolly personage, with a rubicund countenance, an open, off-hand, free-and-easy manner, and a rich jovial voice. He is somewhere between forty and fifty years of age; has been "on the road," as a commercial traveller of course, for nearly thirty years; and well does he know the road-meaning thereby every road in England and Scotland, and perhaps not a few also of those of the step-sister kingdom. Every turn of them does he know-every toll-bar-every inn. As regards the last, his knowledge is singularly comprehensive, including a perfect familiarity with the names of all the officials connected with them, and a thorough acquaintance with the gastronomic excellences and defects of each.

In reference to this last subject, long and extensive experience has informed him that entire success in a variety of dishes is not to be met with in any one particular inn on the road. But the same experience has informed him of a number of houses, each excelling in particular and different dishes. Thus, if you were to question him on these matters, he would probably give you something like the following information, astonishing you with the extent of his knowledge, and exciting your wonder at the vigilance and careful observation which could have noted the superior cookery, as regards particular dishes, of establishments so far distant from each other.

But by what art has he managed to make himself so general a favourite on the road -how contrived to gain the good graces of so many classes of officials? Why, there are two or three things that contribute to this happy result. There is the great length of time he has been upon the road, his good humour, his frank and pleasant manner, &c. &c. ; but the principal source of his popularity is his liberality. He is a generous fellow; pays like a prince, especially waiters, boots, drivers, &c. Waiters, therefore, fly to serve him; chambermaids give his bed an extra tossing to soften it; and boots would go through fire and water, or swim through a sea of shoe-blacking, to do him a good turn.

It is this last person generally, in conjunction with the strapper, and with the connivance of the coachdriver, who deposits our friend's greatcoat on the boxseat, being equivalent to a display of the national flag by a party landing upon some island as yet only possessed by savages.

We do not know it to be a fact, but we rather suspect that, in the case of a coach starting very early of a morning, our friend's coat is deposited on the boxseat on the previous night by boots or coachee, to prevent all possibility of any other person claiming it.

While all the officials of the road like our box-seat man, he in turn likes all of them, but he affects none so much as his chum, the coachman. They have known each other long, and have journeyed together throughout many a cold and stormy night. No wonder our friend should be a favourite with coachee, when we consider the many little courtesies and endearments that pass between them. At every stage, they take nips of brandy together, our friend, of course, paying the cost thereof. At every stage, too, sometimes oftener, he supplies coachee with a fresh cigar, a box of which he carries fully as much for this generous purpose as for his own gratification. And then for his knowledge of horse-flesh. His correct judgment of, and knowing remarks on, off-side leaders and near-side wheelers, how they do endear him to coachee's heart! Again, our friend is a man to whom the latter can with perfect confidence and safety, at any time, in the case of any sudden call or emergency, intrust the reins-a thing which he could not venture upon with one traveller in a thousand.

The box-seat man never goes inside a coach. He abhors the very idea of it. He, in fact, will not take any other than the box-seat. He would rather wait for the next coach than do so, should he by any extraordinary accident have been cut out of his favourite seat. To him travelling inside of a coach is one of the dullest things imaginable. No cigar smoking; no fun with passing travellers; no joking with toll-bar keepers and gaping villagers; and, worse than all, no pleasant confabulation with coachee, the man after his own heart on a journey.

The box-seat man, courteous reader, is the gentleman whose jolly voice is first and most distinctly heard in the passage of the inn, after the arrival of the coach. It is he, too, who surprises you by appearing to be so much at home at every inn he comes to, entering each and all of them with the free-and-easy air of an old acquaintance, which the cordial welcome he meets with shows that he is indeed considered. On such occasions, our friend makes straight for the bar. There he is received by both host and hostess with a most friendly greeting, after which follow the potations in which such personages as we are describing are somewhat too apt to indulge.

You never saw the box-seat man, say you, gentle reader? No. Well, then, you may see him now.

through enthusiasm, waited on him daily up to his death. The last words of Lord George Gordon were characteristic. The French Revolution had attracted him as a glorious event, and he died crazily chanting its watchword, “ Ca ira!”

THE FRESWICK PILOT.

he, "I have great doubts as to your fitness for taking The pirates arrived in Kirkwall Bay in the evening; charge of this vessel; but if you cast her away, or and no sooner was the ship anchored, than they set expose us to the least danger, the first thing I shall do about preparing for the intended attack. The long-boat will be to blow your brains out." Finlay scratched the and jolly-boat were both lowered, and forty stout fellows, back of his head, and said that he would do all that a the very pick of the crew, together with Finlay, emman could to bring them to the proposed harbour; but barked under the charge of the same individual who led as the night was likely to be very rough, and there would them on in the late foray in South Ronaldshay. The be no moonlight, he thought they would better lie to citizens, who had no expectation of the coming attack, [Our attention has been drawn to a small volume-" Sketches then they would see their way clearly. To this very buccaneers being fortunately discovered ere it was too at the back of Duncansbay-Head till next morning, and had mostly all retired to bed; but the landing of the from John O'Groats, in Prose and Verse," purporting to be the reasonable and salutary proposal Gruffwater objected. late, the alarm bell was instantly rung from the lofty composition of James T. Calder, schoolmaster of Canisbay. Coming from such a remote locality as the extreme northern He said he would not lie out all night; and ordered the steeple of St Magnus, and the Kirkwallers, in a very short point of the island of Great Britain, where there exist no means pilot, if he could not bring him to Kirkwall, to bring him time, mustered to a man in Broad Street, armed with for literary improvement, and being, as we are told, the first to some other port. While this point was discussing be- every possible sort of weapon, and headed by Gilbert work of the kind ever printed or published in Caithness, we are inclined to look upon its unpretending pages with an indulgent having the appearance and attire of a person of quality tween Mowat and the chief buccaneer, an individual, Balfour, the governor of the castle, and Provost Mainland -the latter gentleman, in the hurry of the moment, eye, and hope yet for better things from its unfortunately situated of the period, hastily ascended the companion-ladder, and having taken time only to throw on his official hat and author. Consisting for the greater part of legendary stories of no general interest, we select the following as almost the only handsome, was strongly marked and intelligent, with a came on deck. The stranger's countenance, though not his drawers! A desperate conflict now took place bepiece not associated with the superstitions of a past age:-] tween the parties. The Kirkwallers fought with the most determined gallantry, and pressed so hard upon the Ir is probable that few of my readers ever before heard peculiar air of audacity and recklessness about it, like one habituated to desperate enterprises. This person, pirates, that they eventually found it necessary to retreat, of the name of Finlay Mowat, the Freswick pilot. Fin-whom the captain addressed by the name of Northland, leaving behind three of their number mortally wounded. lay flourished about the middle of the sixteenth century, also expressed a great wish to get into port, and in- During the flight, six of them were captured; the rest and was rather a celebrated person in his way. From his sisted that the pilot should give it a trial. boyhood, our hero showed a great predilection for the "Vera well," with some difficulty got to their boats, and effected their sea; and when he grew up to man's estate, his chief tell ye, before han', ye may look out for a wet jacket." the unfortunate Finlay happened to be one, were immesaid Finlay, "let us bear away then to Widewall; but I escape on board the Leviathan. The prisoners, of whom employment was acting as a pilot to vessels passing After passing Duncansbay-Head, the wind and sea in-diately lodged in the castle of Kirkwall to await their through the Pentland Firth, which at this period was the terror of all strangers. Though gifted with a large creased in violence, and as Finlay prognosticated, they got doom. eranium and rapid utterance, and possessing undoubted a tremendous washing, particularly off the island of Swana. skill as a pilot, Finlay was looked upon by his friends added not a little to the danger and difficulty of the The night, which proved exceedingly dark and rainy, and acquaintances as of inferior mental capacity. But there were some clever points about him notwithsage. By great good luck, however, Finlay at length got standing. the Leviathan safe into the commodious bay of WideLike the generality of those who are said to want a cast," he had a great memory, and was exwall; and now he thought he had nothing to do but get tremely ready-witted. He was, at the same time, very his pilot fee, and make the best of his way home across the Firth. But he found that he was not so easily to get rid venturesome, and very confident of his own nautical abilities. Every puff of wind or ripple of land-sea did not of his new acquaintances. The captain told him that he deter him from following his calling on his favourite ele- had still further occasion for his services, and forbade him, on the peril of his life, to leave the ship. It was in vain that poor Finlay appealed to his humanity and conscience sented that he had a wife and six helpless children de(things of which Gruffwater knew nothing), and reprepending upon him, and that he could not be any length of time from home. Gruffwater would, on no consideration, allow him to leave the vessel. Finlay found himself in a most disagreeable plight. To add to his other miseries, he was half starved, having got nothing since he came on which burnt him up with thirst, to quench which he was board except some mouldy bread and a piece of salt junk, allowed nothing but some bad water, and not even a sufficiency of that. Whether this was owing to the niggardliness of the captain, or to the lack of eatables and tite, in general, was excellent, and it was a hard thing, drinkables on board, he did not know. Finlay's appehe thought, to be treated as a slave and starved at the

ment.

One afternoon, as our pilot was taking his dinner, one of his children came running in with the welcome intelligence that a large vessel was "flagging." Finlay instantly threw down his spoon, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and flew to the door. Then, shutting the one eye, and looking through his fist as a telescope with the other, he espied one of the largest ships he had seen for some time making the customary signal for a pilot. Having collected his crew, Finlay, without losing a moment's time, launched his skiff, hoisted his small lugg-sail, and set off. On nearing the vessel, a rope was thrown to the boat, and in a twinkling our pilot was on deck, in his seal-skin cap, black grey unmentionables, and pea jacket of the same material, fastened round the waist with a large leathern strap and brass buckle. Finlay looked about him for a moment or two with a sort of bewildered curiosity. He had been on board of many vessels in his time, but there was something about this one, which was called by the formidable name of the Leviathan, that he had not observed in any other. There seemed to be a great many arms and lethal weapons of every description lying about the deck; and the crew were a set of the roughest and most desperate-looking fellows he ever saw in his life. Among other things, a black flag, with the horrible device of a death's head, particularly struck him. Was he on board a pirate ship? The unpleasant suspicion flashed across his mind; but he thought it best to keep a calm sough," and make no remarks on the matter. "Are you a regular pilot ?" demanded Captain Gruffwater, the master of the vessel, a fierce-looking fellow, about forty, with huge red whiskers, and a deep scar across the left eye-brow. What's your wull, sir?" asked Finlay, touching his cap with the most respectful deference. I say, are you a regular pilot ?" "Oh, ay, sir," responded Finlay, "quite reglar. Imanteen as good a character as any in wur toon, and can show ye a certificate to that effect, signed by the minister, session clerk, and four elders." "Confound your certificate," cried the captain, provoked at his stupidity; "I say, are you in the habit of regularly piloting, and well acquainted with the coast hereabouts, particularly the Orkneys?" "Oh, I understan' ye noo, sir," replied Finlay; "yes, I know every hole and bore about them perfectly. I have piloted ships in ma time to every pairt o' the Orkneys. I know the whole from Cantick lead, owre by there, in Waas, to the Start of Sanda. If I only could write, I would engage to pilot a ship to any pairt o' the known world, Whar d'ye want me to carry ye till, if it's a fair question ?" 66 To Kirkwall," answered Captain Gruffwater. "Vera well," said Finlay, and ordering his own boat home, he immediately took charge of the vessel, and began to issue out his orders in a strong authoritative tone, and to swear lustily at the crew, partly to be revenged on the captain for bullying him, and partly to impress the ship's company with a favourable idea of his courage and independence. "Don't hurry the men in that way, sir," said the captain; "give them a little time." "Not a moment," said Finlay; "don't you see the ebb-tide is half spent, and the night will be on us ere ye can look about ye. The Pentland Firth is no a thing to be trifled wi."

By this time the night was setting in. The sun had gone down in an ugly "bank," and the wind, which was hitherto from the south, suddenly chopped about to the north-west, and began to blow freshly. There being every appearance of what seamen term a “dirty night," the higher sails were now stowed, the top-sails doublereefed, and the ship otherwise trimmed to meet the approaching gale. Finlay continued to issue out his orders, and swear with increased vehemence. "Bear a han', tak a pull upon your lee braces there; haul home your fore and main sheets."

Meantime, Captain Gruffwater paced the deck hurriedly, now looking at the sky, and now at the rigging of the ship. He did not like the appearance of the weather, and he had no great confidence in the skill of his pilot, who appeared to him to be an ignorant and confident blockhead. At length he seized a pistol, and coming close up to Finlay, as he was standing beside the helmsman, and swearing away at a great rate, "Sirrah," said

pas

board this cursed vessel, which, in his opinion, was
same time. He wished he had never set his foot on
rightly named the Leviathan.

The next morning the captain told Finlay that, as he
land pilot, a foraging party of his crew ashore. Finlay
was short of provisions, he would have to accompany, as
at first vehemently protested against going on any such
tiously engage in an act of downright robbery. He was
unlawful expedition. He could not, he said, conscien-
a poor but honest man, and had nothing but his cha-
racter to depend on, and so forth. Finlay's arguments
weighed nothing with the pirate, who gave him the alter-
native of either going with his men, or being tucked up
fearful dilemma Finlay thought it best to make a virtue
to the yard-arm and hanged for his obstinacy. In this
of necessity, and accompany the marauders. A party of
twenty-five stout fellows, armed with swords and pistols,
ashore, the pilot being placed in the van, and threatened
and headed by Northland, now took boat and went
with death the moment he made the least attempt to
escape. The fiery cross, we believe, neither at this nor
at any former period was ever used in Ultima Thule.
The rumour of the invasion, however, spread like wild-
fire, and a large body of the inhabitants soon collected to
beat off the enemy, armed, for the most part, with graips
and pitchforks. At the head of this formidable band
appeared the Laird of Hoxy, mounted on a long-tailed
grey garron, with a hair halter and pad of sheep's skin,
and equipped with an old broadsword, which, like Hudi-

bras's

"Trenchant blade Toledo, trusty,

For want of fighting was grown rusty."
To "screw their courage to the sticking point," Hoxy
addressed them in a spirited harangue, to which his
followers responded with a loud cheer, and brandishing
their weapons, set off at a quick march to meet the free-
booters. On observing the islanders, the pirates, who
were dispersed in small parties, immediately formed
themselves into a body, and fired a volley at them as soon
as they approached within gunshot. [This act dis-
persed the party.] The pirates complimented them
with a cheer and a second volley on their departure,
and having now nothing to disturb them, set about
collecting their booty. As soon as they had got on
board with their plunder, the Leviathan weighed anchor,
and set sail for Kirkwall, passing through Ham Sound.
Previous to sailing, Finlay once more begged Captain
Gruffwater to allow him to go home, adding, that
if his request was granted, he would ask no pilot fee.
Gruffwater, with a sardonic smile, said that he was a
most useful fellow, and a first-rate pilot, and that he
could not dispense with his services as long as he re-
mained in the Orkneys. Finlay did not know what to
think. He found himself actually a prisoner on board
the pirate ship; and what added to his distress, he saw
no means of escape. From some words which he over-
heard between the captain and Northland, the pirates
evidently intended plundering the town of Kirkwall. It
struck Finlay that in all probability he would be forced
to accompany them on this occasion also, and he trembled
at the idea of an encounter with the populace and the
civic authorities of Kirkwall,

To describe the poor pilot's state of mind at this moment would be impossible. Balfour and the civic authorities were bent on summary punishment, and Finlay saw nothing before him but the prospect of being hanged. Among other grave considerations, the thought of what would become of Maggie and his sina' family," after he was gone, brought the tear into his eye," albeit unused to the melting mood." He began seriously to think of preparing for another world, having, as he well knew, a great many sins to account for, both of omission and commission. In short, he became a great penitent; but still he felt a reluctance to leave the world, particu die decently and honourably in his bed like a Christian larly in the circumstances in which he was placed. To and that, too, for a crime of which he was not guilty, was nothing; but to be hanged by the neck in Orkney, how was he to clear himself? He had no friends or acwas a most distressing and unfortunate business. quaintances in Kirkwall, and before he could get any herring. At length he bethought himself of his certifiover from Caithness, he would be defunct-dead as a cate from the kirk session, which invaluable document he generally carried along with him. This testimonial satisfactorily proved two things-namely, that the bearer it was written, which was two years back, he maintained thereof was a native of Canisbay, and, at the time when

But

a decent moral character; but as Mr Inkster, the townclerk, shrewdly observed, he might be a pirate and a vagabond now. Fortunately, at this critical period, Mowat, the Laird of Bucholie, to whom Finlay was particularly well known, happened to arrive in Kirkwall, tion, the pilot was acquitted of the charge of piracy, and and through his means, aided by the certificate in quesliberated from prison.

The next day, two ships of war, commanded by Grange and Tullibardine, arrived in Kirkwall Bay in pursuit of the pirate ship, which contained the celebrated Earl of Bothwell. It was he who had headed the two plundering expeditions just described. Grange and Tullibardine were much disappointed in not falling in with the fugiarrival, sailed for the North Isles. tive, Bothwell having, some hours previous to their

THE Scotsman gives an abstract of a late report on this subject, from which we gather that the circumstances which for some years checked the stream of population in its course across the Atlantic have now ceased, and that the last year's emigration to Canada alone was 28,086, of whom there were of adult males 10,952, of adult females 8,468. It appears from this report, that the voyage by the emigrant vessels to Canada is unfavourable to infant life, the number who died on the passage, out of 5065 children under 7 years of age, being 161.

EMIGRATION TO CANADA.

During the last twelve years, 321,807 persons have emigrated to ports in the United States, and 347,632 to ports in Canada, being in the one instance an average of 26,800 per annum, and in the other 28,700. It thus appears, speaking roughly, that the population of this country increases about as much every two months as emigration reduces it in a year. The average length of voyages to Quebec is 47 days, the shortest voyages being those which commence in April and May. The following passages from the report are interesting, and may be of use to our readers :

"The number of emigrants who have received parochial aid or assistance from their landlords to emigrate this season, considerably exceeds that of 1840, and amounts to 2124, of whom from England there were 807; Ireland, 546; and from Scotland, 771. Those from England, with the exception of 110 Irish emigrants from Liverpool, aided by the Earl of Fitzwilliam, from his estate in Wicklow, were sent out chiefly under the sanction of the Poor-Law Commissioners, and were (as well as those who have emigrated during these several years past under the same authority) well and amply provided for.

The Scotch emigrants were, I regret to say, not so well provided; and many of them were quite unsuited, by their previous mode of life, to succeed in a country where agricultural employment is their chief dependence. They are principally from Glasgow and Paisley, and landed here, many in great distress, and all very poor. From the former port there were 663, chiefly weavers, and a few mechanics; the latter have generally done well. They are members of the different emigration societies, and have been enabled to emigrate by public subscriptions and weekly contributions made by each family, by which means they were barely able to procure a passage and the necessary provisions for the voyage. They con

|

hundred thousand oxen are slaughtered annually in that
country for the supply of bone manure to England alone.
Guano, or the dung of sea-birds, is likewise an extensive
article of importation for the same purpose; but as both
these sources will fail in proportion as the several coun-
tries become more peopled, it is fortunate that we may
find substitutes for them in inorganic substances. Such
is the nitrate of soda, so much used of late; such is the
new manure invented by Mr Daniell; and it may be con-
fidently predicted, that, by the discovery of such agents,
agriculture will be enabled to keep pace with the increase
of population, if the latter be not stimulated by unwise
regulations; and that, as animal life increases in a direct
ratio to the amount of subsistence, so the nutritious
effects of animal manure, by giving greater energy and
vigour to the organs of plants, will cause them to draw
more abundantly from the atmosphere, and thereby force
a proportionately larger quantity of them into existence.
Dr Buckland thought that an important principle respect-
ing stimulating manures had been brought forward,
namely, that a plant, under their action, draws more
freely from the atmosphere. In addition to the increase
of human manure with population, the quantity of carbon
given out by animals, and left to be absorbed by plants,
is proportionately increased. He further adverted to the
discrimination necessary to be exercised in restoring arti-
ficially land that has been exhausted, and instanced a
case furnished by Professor Johnston of Durham, of cer-
tain pastures in Cheshire which had become exhausted
of their phosphate of lime by its being absorbed into the
cheese made with the milk of the cattle fed there, and
which were restored by a top-dressing of bone manure.—
Athenæum.

sequently landed here in a destitute state, and depending
on immediate employment for the support of their nume-
rous families. They all appear to have left their homes
under the impression that they would be supported and
forwarded to any section of the province they wished to
settle in at government expense, and that, if they could
only reach this port, all their wants would be provided
for. I had the greatest difficulty in making them under-
stand that all the government would undertake to do for
them would be to put them in the way of obtaining em-
ployment (which I offered to them in this neighbour-
hood), and that they must depend on their own industry
for support. Should employment not be procured here, I
stated that they would be assisted to proceed to other
places where it would be obtained. Some few families,
numbering nearly sixty persons, remained here, and
worked for two or three months on the roads, at 2s. 9d.
and 3s. a-day. They are now settled on land in the
flourishing townships of Leeds and Ireland, about fifty
or sixty miles from this city, and are in a fair way, from
their own industry, of being in a few years independent.
I have the gratification at present to know that their
families are above want. Their success has been pro-
moted by some influential Scotch gentlemen in this city
(Quebec), who, seeing their willingness and industry,
have trusted them with provisions and a few other ne-
cessaries to enable them to get through the winter. With
the exception of this party, all the others were determined
to proceed further up the country. Toronto appears to
be their halting place. A few had sufficient means to
carry them so far, and others disposed of their effects to
enable them to reach Montreal, where some obtained
employment, but the greater part were forwarded at
government expense to Toronto. By a report received
from the emigrant agent in that city, forwarded to me by
Mr Hawke, it appears that the Scotch weavers are the
only immigrants this season who appear to have been
unsuccessful. From their want of knowledge of agricul-
tural labour, these immigrants were of little or no use to
the farmer; and, in the absence of any public work in
that section of the province, they found great difficulty
in obtaining employment. Another party of Scotch
immigrants, who landed in an equally if not in a more
destitute state, were those in the brig Lady Hood, and
ship Charles, from Thurso. They are of the agricultural
class, and consist of 38 families, 223 persons, from the
Western Isles, principally from Lewis, and only two or
three of them speak English. Owing to a long and tedious
passage, they landed here in great distress, from want of
provisions. They all proceeded to settle in the town-
ships of Bury and Lingwick, in the eastern townships,
and appear to have emigrated on the invitation of a party
of their countrymen, who came out a few years since,
and who, although they landed poor and friendless, are
now doing well, and placed in comfortable circumstances,
Had these people arrived a month or two earlier in the
season, when employment was abundant, they would
have no doubt been able to get through the winter with
comparative ease, as, during the harvest months, employ-ordinary occasions, in the ordinary circles of society, with
ment was very plenty in that section of the province,
and labourers in great demand.

It is of the greatest importance that the advantage of arriving in the colony at as early a period in the season as possible, should be impressed on the labouring portions of the immigrants who come out at their own expense, and also on the landholders who wish to give assistance to their poor tenantry to emigrate, as every thing depends

on the time of their arrival here. Those who sail from the United Kingdom in the months of April and May, arrive in time to take advantage of the spring and summer work. They have thus time to look about them, and secure a home for their families against the coming of winter. On the other hand, as in the instance of the last-mentioned party, if emigrants arrive at a season when nearly all employment ceases, the winter approaches before they can get themselves and their families into the interior of the country, and they are thrown on the benevolence of the colonists, or have to drag through a long and severe winter, depending on charity for support. Although I have represented to your Excellency that a large portion of the emigrants have arrived poor and in distress, still, the number of those whose intelligence and proportionate wealth will add to the value of our colonial population is incomparably greater; and I consider, on the whole, that the emigration of the past season presents the most favourable aspect. The general character and conduct of the emigrants is gratifying beyond description, and I have not heard of a single instance of improper conduct or crime from any of the different agencies through out the province. This is greatly to be attributed to the increasing influence of the temperance societies, which, I am happy to state, are extending throughout this pro

vince."

MANURES.

At a late meeting of the Ashmolean Society, Professor Daubeny exhibited a specimen of Mr Daniell's New Patent Manure, which is stated by the inventor to consist of carbonate of ammonia, sawdust, and bituminous matter. As the materials from which this new kind of fertiliser is drawn appear to consist of inorganic matter exclusively, Dr Daubeny pointed out its discovery as an instance, amongst many others, of the means which nature has placed within our reach for increasing the amount of vegetable produce proportionately to the increase of mankind, and so maintaining the necessary ratio between subsistence and an increasing population. In a purely pastoral or agricultural community, it might be unnecessary to have recourse to any other fertilising substances than those which the manure of animals affords; but in a highly advanced condition of society, in consequence of the large amount of produce consumed by the inhabitants of the great towns, it becomes necessary to seek for new materials to supply the loss which the soil of the country sustains. Thus, bone dust is procured from South America in such quantities, that it is computed, from calculation, that each head of cattle supplies bony matter equal to 84 lbs. in weight; that not less than one million two

ENGLISH AND GERMAN GENTLEMEN.

in the orchard. I asked one of the young men whether they were taught to read on this plantation, and they answered, 'No.' I found the overseer of the cattle with a short-handled stout whip, which had been broken. He said it answered both for a riding whip, and occasionally 'to whip off the slaves.' What, my friend, is to be learned from these gleanings at Ashland-from the doings of our mutual friend, Joseph John Gurney's dear friend,' Henry Clay, the man who boasts that every pulsation of his heart beats high for liberty,' yet is not ashamed to buy men and women at the capitol!-that place which, above all others, ought not to be cursed by the footsteps of a slave. Yet I fear there are not wanting in the abolition ranks men so wedded to political party, that they may be tempted to vote for Henry Clay; serving their party and themselves thereby, and perchance thinking they serve their country."

DISASTROUS EFFECTS OF BANK FAILURES IN IRELAND.

Severe as the distress of all classes was at this juncture, it gave rise to some ludicrous incidents. While it lasted, a gentleman in Cork wanted a leg of lamb, and offered a five-pound note for it, which was refused. In Limerick, a country gentleman, with L.1500 a-year, had sent invitations out for a dinner-party the week the banks broke, and considered himself most fortunate on finding among his notes one Bank of Ireland note for ten pounds. No one doubted the goodness of the note, but no one could give change for it. Ten pounds, in gold or silver, were not in the county; and as for credit, there was none to be had. In this extremity, with money-which was not money-and without credit, having tried butcher, baker, and confectioner in vain, the gentleman gave up the idea of his dinner-party in despair, and wrote to his friends to keep the engagement standing until he could procure cash or credit for a ten-pound note.-Hardcastle on Banks and Bankers.

MODERN EDUCATION.

Or netted him a silk purse-
Or plaited him a guard-chain-
Or cut him out a watch-paper--
Or ornamented his braces with bead-work-
Or embroidered his waistcoat-

Or worked him a pair of slippers

Or open-worked his pocket-handkerchief. She could even-if such an operation would have been comforting and salutary-have rough-cast him with shell

work

Or coated him with red or black seals-
Or encrusted him with blue alum-

Or stuck him all over with coloured wafers—
Or festooned him-

The want of self-respect in the German character, produced by the education and social system, and the undue importance in the German mind of rank, office, and conventional distinction, and undue weight of these in the social economy of Germany, are strongly marked by the "You're good for nothing." "I am indeed," murmured profusion of orders, stars, crosses, ribbons, and empty titles with which the people, both of civil and military poor Miss Priscille, with a gentle shake of her head, and station, adorn and gratify themselves. Every third man a low slow sigh of acquiescence. Alas! as she ran over you meet in the streets has a label in his button-hole, the catalogue of her accomplishments, the more she reNo membered what she could do for her sick parent, the telling all the world, "I am a knight; look at me." more helpless and useless she appeared. For instance, very young man among the continental military can have ever heard a bullet whistle in the field; so that, even by she could have embroidered him a nightcapthis class, no very profound prospect for the ribbon at the button-hole can be claimed, and none at all by the ordinary civil classes who trick themselves out with it en milibe--seems unknown to them, which leads the British taire. The feeling of personal worth-the pride, it may nobleman, gentleman of high station, or military officer, who may have been honoured with a British or foreign order, to wear it only on particular parade occasions. He feels that he is something without the external testimonial of it. The English gentleman would think it quite as inconsistent with his personal dignity to walk about on with the gazette of the actions in which he had won his his stars, crosses, and ribbons plastered on his breast, as distinctions plastered on his back. The German, again, ties his bit of red ribbon even to the button-hole of his dressing-gown; the merchant goes to his counting-house, the apothecary to the barber's shop to be shaved, the Professor to his lecture-room, in crosses and ribbons, as if they were going to the levee of the sovereign. The upper classes of society in all countries are said to be very much alike, and to show few of the peculiar distinctive differences which mark the national character in the middle and lower classes of each country. This is a mistake. The English gentleman, from the highest rank to the very lowest that assumes the appellation, is distinguished from the continental gentleman by this peculiar trait of character---his dependence on himself for his social position, his self esteem---call it pride, or call it a high-minded feeling of his own worth. There he stands, valuing himself upon something within himself, and not upon any outward testimonials of it conferred by others. This feeling goes very deep into society in England. ** While every third man is lounging about, as in Prussia, and generally on the continent, with his orders of merit of some kind or other-and many whose general merits would apparently be nothing the worse of the addition of a little industry to earn a new coat to stick their honours upon--the people, be their forms of government dition are ages behind us in their social economy, and in what they may, are but in a low social and industrial contheir true social education as free agents and members of the community.---Laing's Notes of a Traveller.

HENRY CLAY'S PLANTATION.

We hear much of the liberal opinions of Henry Clay, a member of Congress in the United States. Here is a neat illustration from the work of Friend Sturge, furnished in a letter to the author, by James Cannings Fuller:"Having a great desire to see the imported cattle on Henry Clay's plantation, I went thither. On approaching the house I saw a coloured man, to whom I said, Where wert thou raised? In Washington.' Did Henry Clay buy thee there? Wilt thou show me his improved cattle?" He pointed to the orchard, and said that the man who had charge of them was there. As I followed his direction, I encountered a very intelligent-looking boy, apparently eight or nine years old. I said to him, 'Canst thou read No.' 'Is there a school for coloured people on Henry Clay's plantation? No. How old art thou?' 'Don't know.' In the orchard I found a woman at work with her needle. I asked How old art thou?' A big fifty. How old is that? Near sixty.' 'How many children hast thou Fifteen or sixteen.' Where are they? Coloured folks don't know where their children is; they are sent all over the country.' Where wert thou raised? Washington.' Did Henry Clay buy thee there? Yes.' How many children hadst thou then? Four.' Where are they? I don't know. They tell me they are dead.' The hut in which this source of wealth lives was neither as good nor as wellfloored as my stable. Several slaves were picking fruit

·

6

But, alas! alas! alas! what would it have availed her poor dear papa, in the spasmodics, if she had even festooned him, from top to toe, with little rice-paper roses! -Hood in New Monthly.

[The above is a fair quiz on the trifling and useless kind of education imparted to young ladies at many fashionable boarding-schools in the south. Its writer is most likely unacquainted with the prodigious advance latterly made in female instruction and training, at such establishments as the Scottish Institution for the Education of Young Ladies, Edinburgh.]

A WORD FOR BOOK-BORROWERS. Those who have collected books, and whose goodnature has prompted them to accommodate their friends with them, will feel the sting of an answer which a man of wit made to one who lamented the difficulty which he found in persuading his friends to return the volumes which he had lent them. "Sir," said he, " your acquaintances find, I suppose, that it is much more easy to retain the books themselves than what is contained in them." I would just observe here, that nothing can be more mean and unkind than to borrow books of persons, and to lose them, as is too frequently the case. If my friend gratifies expense of purchasing-or if, also, by the loan, I gain conmy request in lending-if, by so doing, he saves me the siderable information or intellectual profit-it is base and ungrateful either to suffer the book to be injured, or not to return it. I give this as a hint to some who are more in the habit of borrowing than returning books.Buck's Anecdotes.

CONTEMPORANEOUS APPLAUSE.

Great minds had rather deserve contemporaneous applause, without obtaining it, than obtain, without deserving it; if it follow them, it is well, but they will not deviate to follow it. With inferior minds the reverse is observable; so that they can command the flattery of knaves while living, they care not for the execrations of honest men when dead. Milton neither aspired to present fame, nor even expected it; but (to use his own words) his high ambition was, "to leave something so written to after ages, that they should not willingly let it die." And Cato finely observed, he would much rather that posterity should inquire why no statues were erected to him, than why they were.-Lacon.