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it on every day until he was apprehended. In his way to London, he, however, chanced to break his leg; and before it could be set, the death of Queen Mary freed the persecuted Protestants from all danger or restraint.

The reputation which Gilpin had now acquired among the Reformers, procured for him, on the accession of Elizabeth, the offer of the Bishopric of Carlisle; but the mitre had no attractions for him, and, although the offer was twice pressed, it still was steadily and peremptorily rejected. A short time afterwards, he had another opportunity of proving how little he was ambitious of high stations, by refusing the proffered Provostship of Queen's College, in Oxford.

kingdom of Scotland, kept the inhabitants constantly in arms, and nourished the ferocious and predatory habits peculiarly characteristic of the Borderer. Moreover, the inaccessible character of the country had prevented the introduction of the reformed doctrines, and, with their chieftains, the people were still blindly attached to the ancient superstitions.

In this wild tract of country, Redesdale and Tynedale were considered to be pre-eminently savage; yet this was precisely the field to which Gilpin, availing himself of his general license for preaching, directed his steps. For several years, he made an annual progress through the parishes of this sequestered region; selecting for his visits, the winter season, when the greatest number of persons were In fact, Houghton was to Gilpin what "dear likely to be collected together. He preached among Hodnet," in later times, became to Heber. It was them peace and good-will, and endeavoured, but the station exactly adapted to his disposition and without personal risk, to subdue their barbarous taste, and where his history becomes especially inte- habits. On one occasion, two parties at deadly feud resting. The benefice was valuable, giving him a with each other, came armed into the church where revenue of 4007. per annum,-a large sum in those Gilpin was officiating, and seemed about to proceed days; but the parish was extensive, embracing not to actual hostilities, when the preacher, having less than fourteen hamlets, and the inhabitants were obtained from them a promise to forbear whilst he benighted in ignorance and superstition. Gilpin remained in the pulpit, proceeded with his sermon, addressed himself to the wants of his people; he and spent the remaining time in reprobating their was assiduous in preaching, and was instant, in sea- rude and bloody customs. Another time he saw a son and out of season, in bringing before them the glove suspended over the altar in a church, in token saving truths of the Gospel. He instructed in private of a general challenge from some person desperately as well as in public, condescending to the weak, bear- enamoured of fighting. Finding the sexton afraid to ing with the passionate, and consoling the afHicted. remove the glove, Gilpin himself took it down with a He interposed his authority to settle the differences long staff, and put it in his breast. When the people of his parishioners, and, blessed by Divine Provi- were assembled, he went into the pulpit; and before dence with ample means, he was almost boundless he concluded his sermon, took occasion to rebuke in his benefactions. The decayed houses on his them severely for their inhuman challenges. benefice he repaired, and his own residence was made hear," said he, "that one among you hath hanged admirable for the variety and neatness of the build-up a glove, even in this sacred place, threatening ings. He relieved the wants of the sick and poor, and both for his own parishioners and strangers, he kept an open table every Sunday, from Michaelmas to Easter. Even their beasts had such care taken of them, that it was humorously said, if a horse was turned loose in any part of the country, it would directly make its own way to the rector of Houghton's. At the same time, in dispensing his charities, he was always desirous to give no encouragement to idleness or imprudence; and, with a yet higher view, from the painful conviction of the want of learned men to preach the word of God, he founded, at his own cost, a grammar-school, building the house, allowing a maintenance for a master and usher, and boarding at a moderate rate, or gratuitously where need required, twenty-four youths, who received at his hands the blessings of a learned and pious educa

tion. At the University he continued to entertain ten scholars; and it was his practice, if he met with a poor boy who exhibited any marks of superior intelligence, to remove him at once into his seminary, and to charge himself with his maintenance and instruction.

Such was Bernard Gilpin in his parish; but it is a remarkable part of his history, that to these labours of a parochial minister he added those of a missionary. In that age, the limits of pastoral charges were less strictly defined than at present. The want of a sound and well-educated clergy occasionally procured for divines, of superior attainments, a license to preach wherever they might judge their services to be wanted; nor was there any part of England more in need of spiritual labourers than the mountainous parts of Durham and Northumberland. This region was then quite wild and uncivilized. To the merchant and to the traveller it was impervious; and its close neighbourhood to the hostile

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to fight any one who taketh it down. See, I have taken it down!" and pulling out the glove, he held it up to the congregation, and then showed them how unsuitable these savage practices were with the profession of Christianity, using such persuasions to mutual love as he thought would most affect them. It could not be supposed that such kindnesses, accompanied as they always were by a liberal distribution of alms, should fail to win the heart of these uncultivated people. Gilpin was esteemed a very prophet, and little less than adored among them; and a pleasant story is told, that his horses having once been stolen, when the thief (all Borderer as he was,) learned to whom they belonged, he brought them back with trembling, craving the pardon of Father Gilpin, and protesting his fears of immediate punishment from heaven, if he had done him any wrong.

Thus beloved and reverenced, Bernard Gilpin pursued his useful career. With advancing years he began to feel the infirmities of age, and he received a serious hurt by being beaten down by an infuriated ox, in the market-place of Durham. As his end approached, he expressed to his friends and parishioners the consolations that he derived from his faith and hope in Christ; and, at length, he fell asleep in the Lord, in great peace, in 1583, in the 66th year of his age.

His biographer, Carleton, Bishop of Chichester, who had been one of his scholars, concludes his life of his revered patron by saying, "He was careful to avoid not only all evil doing, but all suspicion thereof. He was accounted a saint in the judgment of his very enemies, if he ever had any such; and, at length, being full of faith unfeigned and good works, he was at the last put into his grave, as a heap of wheat in due time swept into the garner."

THE NATURAL AND CIVIL HISTORY OF
CEYLON.

V. OF THE ANIMALS IN CEYLON-REPTILES. Of the animals known in this island, the principal is the elephant, which is found in large herds, and is an object of very profitable traffic. The Ceylon elephant is particularly valued, and always fetches a high price. The next most remarkable animal is the Elk, of which there is a species, I imagine, peculiar to this island. It differs from the common elk, in having a short thick mane, that covers the neck and throat. When full-grown, it measures about five feet from the extremity of the fore-hoof to the top of the shoulder. Its colour is dark-brown, except on the neck, belly, and hind part of the thighs, where it approaches nearly to black. The habits of this animal are gregar.ous, though it is occasionally met with alone in the woods. Its appearance betokens gentleness, and even timidity, but it is, nevertheless, very tenacious of a stranger's approach; and at a particular season it is extremely dangerous to go near it. It is very difficult to tame, for though playf and harmless while young, as soon as it begins to have a consciousness of its power, it becomes wild, and so impatient of restraint, that it cannot be reconciled even to its keeper. The female precisely resembles the male, except

that it is smaller, and has no horns.

Buffaloes are common in Ceylon, and the white buffalo is sometimes found; but these are very rare, and have a sickly appearance. It is therefore probable, as many of the natives suppose, that the whiteness is occasioned by some disorder, similar to that kind of leprosy in the blacks which turns their skin to a dull sickly white.

THE SNAKES OF CEYLON.

Ir has been supposed that the island of Ceylon is particularly infested with venomous snakes; I shall, therefore, | confine myself chiefly to an account of the snakes found there, by which it will be seen how far that idea is well founded. The Pimberah, as it is called by the natives, and the Rock-snake by Europeans, is the largest of the serpenttribe known in Ceylon. It does not belong to the Boa species, but to the new genus Python of Cuvier. In size it never exceeds thirty feet, and seldom attains to this length. It has a couple of sharp horny spurs, a short distance from the extremity of its tail, which are useful to the creature in climbing trees, and in holding fast its prey. The colour of this snake is generally a mixture of brown and yellow; the back and sides are strongly and rather handsomely marked with irregular patches of dark brown, | with very dark margins. The jaws are powerful, and capable of great dilatation; and they are armed with large, strong, sharp teeth, reclining backward. As the muscular strength of this snake is immense, and its activity and courage considerable, it may be credited that it will occasionally attack man. There can be no doubt that it overpowers deer, and swallows them entire*.

"The body of this creature," says Knox, “is as big as a man's middle, and the length proportionable. It is not swift, but by subtilty catches its prey. He lies in the path where the deer use to pass, and as they go, he claps hold of them by a kind of peg that grows on his tail, with which he strikes them. He will swallow a roebuck whole, horns and all, so that it happens sometimes the horns run through his belly, and kill him. A stag was caught by one of these Pimberahs, which seized him by the buttock, and held him so fast, that he could not get away, but ran a few steps this way and that way. An Indian seeing the stag run thus, supposed him in a snare, and having a gun, shot him, at which he gave so strong a jerk, that it pulled the serpent's head off, while his tail was encompassing a tree, to hold the stag the better."

The first among the poisonous snakes known in Ceylon is the Cobra de Capello of the Portuguese, the Hooded-snake of the English, the Noya of the Cingalese, and the Coluber naja of Linnæus. Its length is from three to six feet. It varies much in colour, from light to dark brown. The natives in general rather venerate this snake than dread it. They conceive that it belongs to another world, and that when it appears in this, it comes merely as a visiter. They imagine that it possesses great power, being somewhat akin to the gods, and greatly superior to man. In consequence of this notion, they superstitiously refrain from killing it, and always avoid it, if possible. Even should they happen to find one in their house, they will not destroy it, but put it into a bag, and throw it into the water.

* See Davy's Account of the Interior of Ceylon,

The bite of the Cobra de Capello is not so' immediately fatal as is commonly supposed; fowls have been known to live two days after being bitten, though they frequently die within half-an-hour. Upon dissection, it has been found that the lungs are the principal seat of diseased action. This is the snake which the jugglers exhibit, and it is generally imagined to be perfectly harmless when exhibited, in consequence of its fangs having been extracted by these adepts in the art of legerdemain ; but this is a mistake. The fangs are not extracted, and the creature is presented to the spectator with all its powers of mischief unimpaired. The bite of a snake of this species shown by any of these itinerant conjurors would as certainly prove fatal as from strange to those who have heard of these reptiles being conone encountered in the jungle. This will, perhaps, appear stantly shown in the houses of the curious, and more espe cially when they are told that this snake is frequently permitted to put its head against the cheeks of the children of those who show them. The dexterity of the jugglers in managing these dangerous reptiles is truly extraordinary. They easily excite them to the most desperate rage, and by a certain circular motion of the arms appease them as readily; then, without the least hesitation, they will take them in their hands, coil them round their necks, and put their fingers to their mouths, even while their jaws are furnished with deadly venom, and the slightest puncture from their fangs would most probably produce death.

The power which these people exercise over this species of venomous snake, remains no longer a mystery, when its habits are known, It is a remarkable peculiarity in the Cobra de Capello, and I believe in most poisonous snakes of this class, that they have an extreme reluctance to put into operation the deadly power with which they are endowed. The Cobra never bites unless excited by actual injury, or extreme provocation, and even then, before it darts upon its aggressor, it always gives him timely notice of his danger not to be mistaken. It dilates the crest upon its neck, which is a large flexible membrane, having on the upper surface two black circular spots, like a pair of spectacles, waves its head to and fro with a gentle undulatory notion, the eye sparkling with intense lustre, and commences a hiss so loud, as to be heard at a considerable distance: so that the juggler has always warning of his danger when it is perilous to approach his captive. The snake never bites while the hood is closed, and as long as this is not erected, it may be approached and handled with impunity. Even when the hood is spread, while the creature continues silent there is no danger. Its fearful hiss is at once the signal of aggression and of peril. Though the cobra is so deadly when under excitement, it is, nevertheless, astonishing to see how readily it is appeased, even in the highest state of exasperation, and this merely by the droning music with which its exhibitors seem to charm it. It appears to be fascinated by the discordant sounds that issue from their pipes and tomtoms *.

The snake called Carawilla, by the Cingalese, is the most common of the poisonous kind in Ceylon, but its bite is scarcely more fatal than that of the viper in this country. Its average length is about a foot. Its back is of a dull reddish-brown colour, its belly nearly silver-white, and grayish towards the tail. On each side, between the ridge of the back and the boundary-lines between the back and the belly, there are two rows of black velvety spots; and of these there are three in the tail. The head is nearly triangular, and compressed; it is of a darker colour than the body, and is free from spots. Its jaws are very dilateable. Its fang teeth are long, slender, and sharp. It lies coiled up, its head projecting nearly at right angles to its body. When provoked, it hisses, darts its head with great rapidity at the irritating object, and wounds almost to a certainty. It is active, and when frightened and anxious to escape, moves with great rapidity. From several experiments made by Dr. Davy, it appears that the bite of this snake is not usually fatal, even to small animals. The symptoms are pretty uniform, and quite different from those produced by the poison of the Hooded-snake; the diseased action being more local, and much more inflanımatory, commencing in the part bitten, spreading progressively, losing its force as it extends, and, probably, never proving fatal, except it happen to reach a vital organ.

The snake called by the Cingalese Ticpolonga, is by no means common. It is considered, and no doubt justly, the most dangerous snake on this island; though, if we take its scarcity into the account, it would really be the least See the Oriental Annual for 1835,

dangerous, as it is much more rarely met with than those already mentioned. The natives have great dread of it. When full-grown, it is from four to five feet long, and very thick in proportion to its length. It has not the gracefully tapering symmetry of the Cobra de Capello, neither is it of so brilliant a hue. The head is small, and nearly triangular; its tail is tapering, round and short, something like that of the common English viper. The colour of its upper surface, is a dark, dull, brownish-gray; of its under surface, light-yellow. Its belly is not spotted, but its back is marked very regularly. In some specimens the mark is oval, in some they are more pointed, having the form of a trapezoid; in some they are surrounded with a white margin; in others, the spots are lightest in the middle. This snake is rather indolent and inactive. It is very averse to exercise the deadly powers with which Providence has gifted it. It lies coiled up like the Carawilla, and also, like that snake, when irritated much, darts suddenly forward, and strikes with a precision and activity that seldom fails of producing the most fatal consequences. From several experiments which Dr. Davy made with this snake, on a dog and fowls, he found that its poison was much more suddenly fatal, than that of any other snake in India. The fowls that were bitten, all died within two minutes, and some within one. A rat expired within a few seconds after it was bitten, the poison causing convulsions, and

almost instant death.

After a very minute inquiry into the matter, and confirming his researches by experiments, Dr. Davy has come to the conclusion, that there are only two species of snake in Ceylon, the bite of which is likely to prove fatal to man, the Hooded-snake and the Ticpolonga, and that the danger from the latter, is very much greater than that from the former. He, moreover, seems to think, that the bite of the Cobra de Capello is much less fatal than is generally represented; for he states, that he has seen several men who had recovered from the bite of that snake, and that he had heard of two or three only to whom it had proved fatal. If this be the case, the poison of the Ceylon snakes must be of a less virulent kind than that of similar snakes on the peninsula, for I have known two instances, in which death has ensued within a few hours after the persons See DR. DAVY's Account of the Interior of Ceylon, and DR. RUSSELL on Indian Serpents.

were bitten. One of the unfortunate men was a Sepoy, the other a grass-cutter.

There is a snake, sometimes, but very rarely, found in Ceylon, which appears to be the same mentioned by Dr. Russell in his account of Indian serpents, under the name of Bodróo Pam. The Cingalese have no name for it, which is sufficiently accounted for, by its being so seldom seen. It is little more than two feet long, its head is large, and shaped like a heart, but irregularly. Its neck is small, and its body thin; its sides are compressed, and the tail is rather abrupt and tapering, like that of the Ticpolonga. Between the eye and nostril it has two large cavities, one on each side, the diameter of which rather exceeds one-tenth of an inch. Its lower surface is yellow, variegated with green; its upper, bright applegreen. This colour is confined to the scales; the cutis beneath is black, consequently, where the scales are very close, as they are in patches along the back, black is excluded: and where they do not overlap, the green appears to be shaded with black. A line of black scales may be mentioned, as occurring above the upper jaw, and a few of the same colour appear along the back.

REPTILES.

Ir will appear from this, that the vulgar notion of Ceylon abounding with venomous reptiles, is quite erroneous. Scorpions, centipedes, and two or three species of spiders, are the only other poisonous creatures known in this island. Dr. Davy considers the sting of the scorpion little more severe than that of a wasp or a bee, but I think this is underrating its severity, as I knew of its proving fatal in one instance to a European artilleryman, at Poonah, who was stung in the finger by a large black scorpion. The inflammation was so great, that he died within twenty-four hours. There might have been some inflammatory tendency in the man's constitution, which was excited by the poison; but I have known several in which the suffering has been intense, and for a considerable period.

It is astonishing, that where snakes and other poisonous reptiles are supposed to abound, not only in Ceylon, but in India generally, so few accidents should occur, and indeed, their infrequency is a strong presumptive proof that they are much less abundant than is commonly supposed. J. H. C.

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LONDON. Published by JOHN WILLIAM PARKER, WEST STRAND; and sold by all Booksellers.

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CONVENT IN THE ISLE OF MURANO,

VENICE.

Ir may hardly be necessary to tell our readers, that the famous city of Venice is built on a cluster of small islands, or rather shoals, in the midst of a shallow muddy estuary, called the Lagoon, which intervenes between the open sea and the dry land, at the head of the Adriatic. Besides the islands which the city, strictly so called, occupies, there are several smaller ones, which were formerly well inhabited, and some of which even now possess a rather thick population.

To the north-east of the city is the town of Murano; sort of miniature Venice, being built on several smaller islands in the Lagoon, and intersected by a number of canals. In former times, it had a separate Podestà (or governor) to itself, and enjoyed the privilege of coining money; fifty years ago it had 7000 inhabitants, it is now said to have only 4000. It used to possess four parish-churches, six monasteries, one convent of regulars, one oratory or private chapel, and two colleges for the education of youth. The churches are not very remarkable for their architecture, but like many others in Venice, they are curious for the interesting specimens of mosaic work which they present in their interior.

Murano is chiefly remarkable for its manufactory of glass, which used in former times to be very much celebrated. "I passed over," says the celebrated John Evelyn*, to Murano, famous for the best glasses of the world, where having viewed their furnaces and seene their work, I made a collection of divers curiosities and glasses which I sent for England by long sea. Tis the white flints which they have from Pavia, which they pound and sift exceedingly small, and mix with ashes made of a sea-weede brought out of Syria, and a white sand, that causes this manufacture to excell. The Towne is a Podestaria by itselfe, at some miles distant on the sea from Venice, and like it built upon several small islands. In this place are excellent oysters, small and well tasted like our Colchester, and they were the first as I remember that I ever could eate, for I had naturally an aversion to them." At the present day, the glass-manufacture of Murano possesses a sort of local pre-eminence; it gives employment to a considerable portion of the population of the city.

Among the other islands which are to be found in the neighbourhood, one of the most interesting among the islands belonging to Venice, is that which bears the name of Torcello, or Torzelo. In the days of the old Venetian Republic, it formed with Burano, and some smaller isles, a separate district, with a Podestà, or governor of its own; it was also the seat of a bishopric, the jurisdiction of which extended over Murano. The city of Torcello was originally founded by the inhabitants of Altino, when they fled from the approach of Attila, in the middle of the fifth century; and two hundred years afterwards it afforded the same citizens a similar shelter against the attack of the Lombards. In the earlier ages of the Republic, it was a very flourishing place; but its prosperity would seem to have flown for many years. "Of the ancient greatness of this city," says an Italian writer in the year 1787," and of its wealth, from which it was called, by the Emperor Constantine, Porphyrogenitus, 'the great emporium, Torcello,' there scarcely remain the smallest vestiges; it is become one of the most deserted islands in the Venetian Lagoon." Its present condition is well described in the following passage from the pen of Mr. Rose, who See Saturday Magazine, Vol. II., p. 68,

viewed it as one of those objects of curiosity, deriving their interest from association or some other less-definable cause, which deserve the notice of the traveller, though not registered amongst the wonders of a place.

Having visited the manufactories of Murano and Burano," says that gentleman, "and witnessed such a scene of promiscuous misery, as I feel no temp. tation to describe, I prolonged my voyage, and landed on the nearly desert island of Torzelo, about six miles from Venice. This spot, once the summer resort of the Venetian patricians, and covered with their villas and gardens, presented a very different character of desolation. My eyes were neither pained by the visible progress of ruin, nor disgusted by the meanness of the instrument which had wrought it. Time was here the great destroyer, and moreover, time had done his work.

"I was favoured by one of those delicious days of sunshine, common even in a Lombard winter, which in some degree mitigated the melancholy of the prospect, and enabled me to saunter and view without inconvenience, all the circumstances of the scene. Amidst the vestiges of departed grandeur were left some poor and scattered houses, and a church, the restoration of which dates, I believe, from the eleventh century. A broken column marks the centre of what had been the piazza (or place), and from which had once waved the standard of St. Mark. Amidst these remains glided a few human beings, the miserable tenants of the place. There was nothing striking in the architecture, nothing picturesque in the landscape, but the whole made an impression upon me which no other ruins ever produced. Whilst I was musing upon the prospect before me, a clock from a half-ruined tower tolled twenty. Time only had suffered no change, together with the monuments he had overthrown. He spoke an antiquated language, hardly intelligible to the generation of the day."

The church here mentioned, was the Cathedral of the bishopric of Torcello. According to the Italian writer before quoted, it was built in the year 1008, by the then bishop Urso Urseolo, son of the famous Doge, Pietro Urseolo the Second, under whose rule the power of the Republic had so much increased, and who was the first to add to the title of Duke of Venice, that of Duke of Dalmatia. "Every where," says our author, in the description of the church as it existed in the last century, "is seen the utmost splendour and magnificence. Two rows of columns, fashioned of Greek marble, divide the body of the edifice into three portions; its pavement is mosaic, and the walls also are decorated in the same manner." Mr. Rose says, that the architecture of the church is not very striking, yet the edifice possesses some interesting features. "Its stone-shutters, carrying one's ideas back to days of violence, are, as far as my observation goes, a singular remnant of such an age; and some very curious mosaics in the inside, may vie in beauty and in antiquity with those of St. Mark."

A DUKE of Brunswick was once accosted in Venice, by a boy who solicited charity. The duke told him that he had no small change; on which the boy offered to get him change for a piece of gold. The duke thought this a ridiculous circumstance, and to rid himself of the applicant, he gave him a ducat, in the certainty that the young beggar would keep it. After a very short time, the lad returned, to his great surprise, with the full change for his ducat, in the small coin of Venice. The duke, struck with provide for him, and afterwards promoted him to honourable his honesty, not only gave him the gold, but undertook to employment,

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