covery, which of course must be frequent, by imbuing the classes capable of affording relief with suspicion and ill-will, they render the position of the really destitute hopeless. If our description of vagrancy is read in a right spirit, it will induce, as well as enable, the charitable to distinguish between the fraudulent and the unfortunate; and it will rouse their warmest sympathies in behalf of those classes of the poor that are pressed down into starvation by the crimes of the poor themselves.

JOSE JUAN, THE PEARL DIVER. A FEW years before the states of South America threw off the Spanish yoke, I was staying one hot summer at San Blas, situated at the entrance of the Gulf of California. It was then the entrepôt of the flourishing commerce of Spain with the islands of the Southern Ocean, with China, and the East. A busy population filled the streets, and ships from all parts of the world crowded the roadstead; on the border of which there now remain but the ruins of arsenals and dockyards. San Blas retains only the remembrance of her former activity and her picturesque situation.

So stifling was the heat of the city, aggravated by the myriads of mosquitos that infested the air, that I was glad to escape on an errand of business to a place some distance up the coast; and engaged a passage on board the galliot Guadaloupe, a small vessel of fiftyeight tons burden. The captain desired me to take a lodging near the shore, as he might have to sail unexpectedly, and could not afford to lose time. After waiting three days, a canoe was sent for me to the landingplace, and in a few minutes I stepped on board. The deck was covered with heaps of the enormous and savoury onions for which San Blas is celebrated, mingled with gourds and bananas. This collection of fruits and vegetables formed, with my trunk, nearly the whole of the cargo. Our preparations were soon made, the onions were stowed away in the three canoes which we carried, the clustering bananas were hung up like long fringes on the starboard and larboard bulwarks, and then the vessel was abandoned to the discretion of the winds and the waves.

The crew was not less singularly composed than the cargo. Our Catalonian captain, Don Ramon Pauquinot, had under his orders a French sailor, deserter from a whale ship; a Mexican, who pretended to act as second mate; a Kanaka, or native of the Sandwich Islands; a Chinese, alike unwilling to cook or to work; and lastly, two young Indians, from one of the tribes in the interior of the country, in the capacity of cabin-boys. The captain, when he was not quarrelling with his sailors, passed his time in pacing up and down the deck, smoking and examining his store of gourds and onions. The Frenchman took upon himself the office of steering, and looked with contempt on all other persons in the vessel. The Mexican lay idle all day long in one of the canoes, strumming upon a guitar, and affecting to be highly indignant if the captain presumed to give him any orders. The Chinese, pretending to be busy either with cooking or the ordinary ship's duty, did neither one nor the other. The Kanaka was the only one who really worked; he cooked the rice, bananas, and cecina or dried meat, which alone constituted our fare.

We had been out fifteen days, and were yet far from our port: the water putrefied in our casks under the burning rays of a vertical sun; the cecina and rice were unendurable; when one evening, as the sun was disappearing behind a fog bank on the distant horizon, the Frenchman beckoned to me, and on my obeying the signal, he said, 'Look yonder; we are approaching the Isle of Cerralbo; and behind is that of Espiritu-Santo.'

On my inquiring what we were to think of it, he replied, that although the captain yet considered himself sixty leagues from Pichilingue, we were in reality that distance beyond it, making an error of one hundred

and twenty leagues in a voyage of little more than double that length. When the captain was informed of his blunder, he said to me, 'Lucky 'tis no worse, or I should have to keep you longer; but never mind, everything is included in the passage-money, and after resting a little at Cerralbo, I will carry you back to Pichilingue.' By the time we were near the islands the sun had disappeared: we could just distinguish the huts forming the temporary habitations of the population, when, amid loud outcries from the shore, two canoes, with a man in each, one of which seemed to be pursuing the other, were seen rapidly skimming across the channel which separates the two islands. The attention of our whole company, particularly that of the Indians, who looked on with intense delight, was at once absorbed in the interest of the chase. The captain took his telescope, and after gazing a few minutes, said, turning to me,' He is lost!'

"Who?' I inquired.

'Who? the man yonder in the canoe trying to get away.'

What makes you think so?'

'Jose Juan is in pursuit,' was his answer. The mention of the name left me no wiser; and considering it useless to trouble the captain with further questions, I continued to watch the canoes. It was evident that the fugitive was trying to gain a little creek among the rocks stretching out from EspirituSanto. It was the only place where he could reach the shore. In spite of all his efforts, an adverse eddy prevented his making way, while Juan, who was farther out, rapidly approached to cut him off from his retreat. The man in the foremost canoe, despairing of escape, rose to his feet, and when his pursuer_was within a few feet of him, plunged into the sea. Juan immediately stood up, and seizing in one hand the line used by pearl divers, leaped in after him. A minute had scarcely elapsed, when a head appeared above the surface of the water; it was that of the fugitive swimming towards the shore with all the energy of despair. All at once, as though he had been carried down by a whirlpool, he disappeared. A thin white foam, caused by the boiling of little waves above the place where he had sunk, indicated that a struggle was going on below. Was it between Jose and his adversary, or with one of the ferocious sharks which abound on the fishing-grounds? The spectators, however, were reassured by seeing that the foam showed no stains of blood; and soon after two heads appearedJose Juan and the fugitive. But it was at once seen that the latter supported himself on the surface of the water by the action of his legs only, for his arms were lashed close to his sides by Juan's cord. This marvellous feat, accomplished under the water, produced a shout of acclamation from every spectator, intermingled with cries of Viva Jose Juan.

The rapid approach of night hid the remainder of the scene from our eyes; at the expiration of a few minutes, however, we heard loud lamentations on the shore, accompanied with ironical bursts of laughter, and the confused noise of a struggle between one man and a number of others; after which all was still. We subsequently learned that the fugitive was a diver, who had stolen and swallowed a large pearl; for the losses thus sustained, the leaders or captains of the various parties are responsible. Juan was one of these captains; and as usual, when he had got his man on shore, made him swallow a dose of turtle-oil, which causing him instantly to vomit, the pearl was recovered.

The morning after our arrival, at the captain's suggestion, I went on shore, where I met our Mexican, who communicated to me some particulars of the life of Jose Juan, in whom I began to feel much interested: among others, of his having once attacked and killed a shark, which had devoured a fellow-diver, his intimate friend. I had been at a loss, while walking about among the miserable dwellings, where to apply for a night's lodging; but now my mind was made up at once to go to

short distance from him, and a few feet below the surface, shone a phosphoric light, approaching slowly nearer and nearer to him. Can you guess what it was?' 'No.'

To-morrow at daybreak,' was my answer.

'Tis well,' rejoined the diver; 'you shall know my history,' and he rose and beckoned me to follow him. When we were out of the hut, he added, 'The landbreeze blows as usual; and to-morrow by ten o'clock, when it will cease, the Guadaloupe will be far away.'

He then seated himself on the bottom of an inverted canoe, and recommenced:- At the beginning of last year's fishing season there was one man that I met everywhere. Like me, he was a diver; and, like me, pretended to have no family name. He was called Rafael. At the washing, under the water, in all quarters, in fact, we were sure to meet. These frequent opportunities of seeing each other made us very friendly; and the remarkable skill with which he performed all his avocations inspired me with a great esteem for him. His courage was quite equal to his skill: he had no fear whatever of sharks; he had, he told me, a particular manner of looking at them which intimidated them; he was, in short, an intrepid diver, an excellent worker, and, above all, a merry companion.

"This went on very well, until one day a young girl came with her mother to live in the island of EspirituSanto. Some business that I had there with one of the dealers gave me the opportunity of seeing her. I became passionately in love; and enjoying a certain reputation, neither she nor her mother looked with an unfavourable eye on my pretensions and presents. As soon as our day's work was over, and every one thought me asleep in my hut, I went across in a canoe to Espiritu-Santo, whence I returned soon after midnight without any one suspecting my absence.

'Some days had passed after my first nocturnal excursion, when one morning, going to the fishing-ground before sunrise, I met one of our old Indian women, who accosted me with the words "Listen, Jose Juan; I have something to say that concerns you." She then went on, much to my surprise, to tell me that I had a rival, Rafael, one of our divers, who threatened to do me an injury. That evening I discovered that she spoke truth, and that Rafael was actually swimming in the same direction as myself. All at once a wild cry burst across the waters. There was no mistake; it was Rafael's voice.' Here Juan sighed deeply as he continued -I knew that Rafael was my enemy, and that he aimed at taking from me her whom I desired to make my wife; I knew likewise that his vengeance was deadly. But this was not a time for me to weigh feelings of selfishness. It was a gloomy night, and a wailing voice came across the waves. Turning my canoe in the direction whence the sounds proceeded, I heard vigorous blows on the water, and rowing in the direction of the noise, saw Rafael in the midst of a circle of foam. It struck me as strange that, instead of using his strength to swim towards the canoe, he remained struggling in one spot But I soon became aware of the cause: a

'It was a tintorera, a shark of the most voracious species,' answered Juan, and continued his narration. A stroke of my paddle brought me close to Rafael: on seeing me he uttered a cry of joy, but had not strength to speak. With a desperate effort he seized the gunwale of the canoe; yet such was his exhaustion, that he could not raise himself from the water. His eyes, though deadened by terror, looked at me with an imhis two hands in mine, and held them fast. The streak of light under the water came steadily on; for one instant, one brief instant, Rafael ceased to strike out with his legs; a fearful shriek burst from his lips, his eyes closed, and his hands relaxed their hold. The upper portion of his body fell back into the sea: the shark had cut him in two.'

The diver paused in a struggle of inexpressible emotion. In reply to my inquiry, he said that, had he been a little more collected, he might possibly have saved his companion; his teeth were set, and his voice resembled a hoarse whisper. Recovering himself, however-'I have not yet come to the end,' he said: 'no sooner had Rafael's body disappeared under the water, than I plunged in myself. I had a hundred reasons for so doing. The tintorera, although he had rid me of a rival, became hateful to me, and exasperated me by the brutality with which he had torn poor Rafael to pieces. The honour of the corporation of divers was insulted: I am, you know, one of the captains. Besides, once enticed with the taste of human flesh, the monster would have come to attack us next. And how could the alcalde expect me to be responsible for my friend, if I killed the shark that had eaten him?

'I did not go deep, as you may think; having to look above, below, and around me all at once. The waves roared over my head with a noise like distant thunder, but around me all was calm: a dark mass drifted against me: it was the mutilated trunk of Rafael; and I concluded the fish I was looking for could not be far off. In fact, a distant ray of light, at first scarcely visible, grew more and more distinct. The tintorera was about the same depth as myself, but gradually slanting upwards. My breath was beginning to fail; I did not wish to give the shark the advantage of being above me. I rose to the surface: it was time; for so swiftly did the monster approach, that his fins brushed my body as he passed; and I could see his dull glassy eyes, and the rags of flesh yet hanging to his jaws, which he smacked together with greedy satisfaction. I snorted rather than breathed when my head rose above the water. The shark was close behind me, his silver white belly plainly visible as he turned on his back, at the same time opening his tremendous jaws, bristling with frightful rows of teeth. Darting away in the opposite direction, I buried my dagger in the body of the fish, and cut a gash as far as my arm could reach. The tintorera, wounded to death, dashed upwards with a prodigious bound, and fell back, lashing the water with his tail. Luckily I was out of the way of the blows; but was half drowned before I could get out of the storm of blood-stained foam which he raised around me. A minute after, at the sight of my enemy floating motionless and livid upon the water, frothing in the gaping wound, I raised a cry of triumph which was heard on both islands.

'Day was breaking as I regained the shore, exhausted by the efforts I had been obliged to make to surmount the fast-increasing waves. The fishermen visited their nets; and almost at the same moment that I landed, the remains of Rafael and the body of the shark were drifted on the beach by the tide.'

The diver ceased, and appeared lost in profound reflection. After a short silence, he bethought himself of the rites of hospitality. Re-entering the hut, he stood

for some moments contemplating the beauty of his young wife, who had fallen asleep in the inner apartment, the loosened plaits of her long hair stretching to her feet. On the wall, dimly visible by the expiring light of two candles, hung a rude picture, representing souls in purgatory. Hastily turning away, Jose unrolled a Chinese mat in the outer apartment, which was to be my couch for the night. The accommodation on board our ship was not much better; but the narrative to which I had listened prevented me from sleeping, and the first faint streaks of dawn were just visible when the diver's voice spoke close to my ear:-"The breeze still blows, and the Guadaloupe is about to lift her anchor.' I immediately rose, and taking leave of my host, returned on board without delay. The sails were dropped, and, yielding to the breeze, our vessel soon left the islands far behind. The next day we dropped anchor in the harbour of Pichilingue.

THE TRULY GREAT.

'If I were asked which of all the distinguished characters of whom I have read I would rather be, I should unhesitatingly say Alexander the Great,' was the exclamation of Francis Worthington, as he laid down a volume of Grecian history with a mind full of admiration of that renowned hero of antiquity.

'Your choice would be far from a happy one, my dear Frank,' his father quietly observed.

'Not a happy one, papa! What, should you not like to be the parent of an Alexander?'

'No, my boy-I have no such ambition; I would rather be the father of Frank Worthington.'

'You are surely jesting, papa? I cannot but think that you would like to see your son become as great.'

'I was never more in earnest, Frank; and if you seriously consider the subject, I think that you will allow that I am right. Alexander has, by general consent, been termed great; but now inform me, if you can, in what his greatness consisted?'

'Can you ask, papa, when he achieved such mighty conquests ? 'He did achieve mighty conquests; but tell me to what beneficial results those conquests led?' Francis looked a little puzzled at the question, and remained silent. 'He extended his power,' Mr Worthington resumed; but that power was not exercised in ameliorating the condition, or raising the character, of the nations he subdued. He caused the blood of thousands to be shed, and spread ruin and desolation where peace and plenty had formerly

dwelt.'

'But he was a heathen, papa, and on that account we ought not to expect the same from him as from the great men you have mentioned, who were brought up in the principles of Christianity."

True, my son, we must not look for Christian virtues in a heathen prince; yet as you hold him up as a demi-god, my object is to prove that he was possessed of vices which are altogether incompatible with true greatness. In the first place, his inordinate ambition led him to the practice of deception; for, not satisfied with human honours, he sought to impose on the credulous, by pretending that he was a descendant of Jupiter. You may remember, Frank, that the wise man of old has said that "greater is he that ruleth his spirit than he that taketh a city;" yet your Alexander was so wanting in self-government, that he slew his friend, with his own hand, in a fit of passion, only because he depreciated his achievements: then his death is generally supposed to have been caused by intemperance.' Ah, papa, you are exhibiting the blemishes of my hero; I was looking only at his shining qualities.'

'Such a course would, in some cases, be proper, being consistent with Christian charity,' his father observed; 'but in perusing the page of history, it will be injurious to the mind of youth to form a wrong estimate of the characters it presents to the view. Vice should be seen in its true aspects, and not through the medium of the shining qualities of which you speak; lest, whilst the young are admiring and imitating such striking virtues as courage and generosity, they be led to approve of, and even to commit, cruelty, injustice, and oppression.'

Then, papa, I infer from what you say that greatness really consists in goodness ?'

Those

'Not exactly so, my dear boy; for there may be goodness without greatness, although greatness cannot exist without goodness. For instance, an individual may possess many excellent qualities, and yet be wanting in that strength of character which is a concomitant of greatness. milder virtues which make a man appear amiable in the every-day concerns of life may be designated goodness; whereas greatness exhibits loftier qualities, such as moral courage in cases of difficulty-fortitude in adverse circumstances the exercise of strict justice, however opposed to self-interest-forbearance under injuries--a self-sacrificing spirit, evinced where that sacrifice would benefit others, or promote an important end-the pursuance of honourable independence, even if it should lie in a humble path -the possession of a mind above the influence of prejudice

following the dictates of conscience, irrespective of the world's censure or applause. These virtues, my son, are more deserving of imitation than the military achievements and prodigal disregard of wealth which your hero displayed; and it is only when they are united with the graces of which I spoke, that the character becomes

milder

6

And should they not on that account be deplored?' his father asked. Francis was again at a loss to reply. 'When wars are wholly defensive, and are engaged in for the purpose of protecting the rights and liberties of one's own country, they are not only justifiable, but praiseworthy; but such were not the wars of your favourite hero. He was instigated alone by ambition-the ambition to be styled a Conqueror.'

'He was ambitious certainly; but then his generosity was unbounded: surely generosity constitutes greatness, papa ?

No, Frank, I cannot yield even that point. Generosity is indeed essential to true greatness; but it must be such generosity as Howard evinced when he performed his errand of philanthropy. The generosity of a Jenner who, at a noble self-sacrifice, forbore to keep that knowledge secret which, when known, conferred inestimable benefits on his species of a Wilberforce or a Clarkson, when they stood almost alone in advocating the cause of freedom; not the prodigality of an Alexander, who lavished ill-gotten treasures on unworthy objects of favour.'

Oh, papa, you speak very contemptuously of my hero. I thought everybody admired Alexander, and deemed him deserving the title he has always borne of the Great.'

'Such exploits as Alexander performed were likely to be admired in the rude ages, when it was universally acknowledged that military achievements conferred the highest possible glory on a nation; but in these enlightened days, such actions are seen in their true colours, and weighed in the balances of justice and morality.'

THE JEWS IN INDIA.

In Bombay and the neighbouring places there are some five or six thousand Israelites. Some of these have more recently come from Arabia, and are called white Jews. Some have come from Cochin, and are called black Jews. But by far the greater portion, who have been long settled in the country, and to whom Mahratta is the vernacular language, are called Israelites, or Beni Israel. When their ancestors arrived here is not certainly known. They say it was about 1600 years ago that the ship in which they came was shipwrecked, and that seven men and seven women who escaped settled at Nagao, some thirty miles to the south-east of Bombay. They were at one time generally engaged in the manufacture of oil; but at present many of them are masons, carpenters, cultivators, &c. When the missionaries first came to this country some thirty years since, the Israelites were generally unable to read, and were almost wholly ignorant of their own Scriptures. They had generally ceased to observe the Sabbath as a day of rest, and were in many respects conformed to the customs of their Hindoo and Mohammedan neighbours. It is stated in a printed journal of one of the earlier missionaries, that the magistrate described them at that time as being the most drunken and troublesome people on the island. The missionaries in Bombay have, from the first, taken a deep interest in the Israelites or Jews. They early established schools among them, in which both sexes were taught to read. They furnished them with the Scriptures, translated into their vernacular language, and in

EDINBURGH

JOURNAL

No. 160. NEW SERIES.

HISTORICAL TABLEAUX.

CONQUESTS.

WHEN lately in Ireland, I was, like all other tourists, struck with, and interested in, two things the opposite of each other-one, the surprising number of objects of antiquity, indicating a former age of wealth, literature, and refinement; the other, the absence of all present moral vigour, with a wretchedness the very nearest thing to an entire negation of property and comfort. You see the remains of ecclesiastical edifices with the most gorgeous carvings; stone crosses lying prone in the dust, any one of which would be the marvel of an English county; and in museums you are shown books of vellum, in the ancient Irish character, bound in gold and silver, and ornamented with precious stones, which are said to be worth, in the present day, thousands of pounds. In the collection of the Royal Irish Academy I was shown a copy of the gospels which had belonged to St Patrick; an almost coal-black little vellum book, that could not be a day less than fourteen hundred years old; and also a similarly antique copy of the Psalms of David, which had been the property of the pious Columba, who went as an apostle to Scotland about the year 563. The eventful history of these literary relics was of course duly verified, and afforded, among other things, room for much melancholy reflec

tion.

Ireland possesses an Archæological Society, whose head-quarters are in Dublin, and which has issued a number of volumes, transcribed from the ancient manuscripts at their disposal. The books are unique as historical records, and reflect much credit on the diligence of the members. Many of these persons are not mere dilettanti Archæologists, in patent leather boots and figured satin waistcoats, and whose chatter is of tamuli, mummies, and painted glass windows. In going through the apartments of the Academy, you see old men with wrinkled faces and spectacles poring over ancient manuscripts, each of which looks as if it had lain a thousand years in a peat-moss, and then been taken out and dried before the fire. One thin little man, of a nervous temperament, whose devotions I dared to interrupt, told me that he had spent six months in trying to decipher a single page of St Patrick's gospels, and that he had succeeded in all but three words in the right-hand corner. 'I would give fifty pounds.' said the little man energetically, if I could discover the meaning of these three words.' There was Archæology!

Besides these precious manuscripts, the museum of the Royal Irish Academy contains a vast collection of gold ornaments of various sizes and shapes; some heavy and massive, others small and delicate, suitable, as it might seem, for decorating the brow of a princess,

PRICE 11d.

or the wrist of a child. I was told, however, that these trinkets afforded but a meagre idea of the quantity of objects in pure gold which, from first to last, had been found in Ireland, and transferred to the melting-pots of the Dublin jewellers-coronets, rings, bracelets, and crosiers-realising large sums to the fortunate finders. It was the first time I had heard of all this, and I was of course correspondingly interested. I now felt that Moore had possessed something more tangible than a vague tradition for his mellifluous lyric

Rich and rare were the gems she wore,

And a bright gold ring on her wand she bore'— allusive to a lady of rank who, in a species of Arcadian unconsciousness that there was such a thing as evil in the world, wandered about the country respected and unmolested. I left Ireland an Archæologist.

The Irish, though possessing no distinct individual history, would nevertheless appear to have been at one period the most learned nation in Europe. Egypt, Greece, Rome, Ireland-these seem to have been the countries in which learning of a refined nature progressively found refuge and repose. The manner in which the civilisation of each was in its turn laid prostrate was the same-MILITARY CONQUEST. Egypt was in part despoiled by Greece; Greece was similarly despoiled by Rome; Rome was despoiled by the Teutonic nations of the north; and two branches of these nations, the Danes and Anglo-Normans, completed the train of ruination by despoiling Ireland. Since their banishment thence, learning and literature have wandered, as if at random, through all the countries of Europe; but they are now, we hope, too deeply fixed, as well as too broadly scattered, to be again uprooted from their chosen soil.

In this view of affairs, Ireland is to England what Greece was to Rome-the spot whence it derived not a little of its civilisation, and which it afterwards maltreated in requital. In a word, and in all seriousness, IRELAND IS THE GREECE OF THE BRITISH ISLANDSa country in which relics of a period of refinement are lying everywhere tumbled about, like mangled corpses on a field of battle; while in the midst of these remains are seen, crouching in mud hovels, the shattered remnant of the conquered people, impoverished, dispirited, and in many features of character demoralised. There is, however, hothing peculiar in their state of debasement. The same thing may be seen any day in fifty different regions of the globe. The wild Indian lights his fire from the branches of the noble alamo, as it intertwines with and enshrouds the royal ruins of Metasco (Spain did it). The Syrian Arab encamps under the shelter of rock-sculptured palaces in the silent glen of Wady Moosa (Assyrians and Saracens did it). The Bedouin of the desert tethers his camels in