Imágenes de páginas

assume the character of regular ranges or groups. They frequently consist of detached hills, separated by narrow glens. Ben Wyvis, in Ross-shire, rises to the height of 3720 feet, and, with some others in the same district, is generally topped with snow. The highest summits of the ridge which separates the south-east of Caithness from Sutherland, and terminates at Ord Head, called by sailors the Paps of Caithness, rise from 1250 to 1930 feet.

Many of the mountains in the isle of Skye are computed at 3000 feet above the level of the sea; and in the isle of Jura, which is itself a mountain, some of the hills, called Paps of Jura, are more than 2400


Ireland, though, generally speaking, a flat country, is not entirely without its mountainous regions. Wicklow consists of an assemblage of mountains, connected with a ridge which divides Wexford from that county and Carlow. Among the Wicklow mountains are—Lugnaguilla, 3070 feet; Kippure, 2527 feet Djouca, 2392 feet; Cadeen, 2158 feet; Sneechon, 2150 feet. The eastern coast of Donegal, likewise, presents a mountainous appearance, and a chain runs inland from Tillen Head. Mangerton, a peak in the chain, south-west of the Lake of Killarney, is 2693 feet high; and Slieve Donnard, the highest summit of the Mourne mountains, in the county of Down, is 2786 feet. In the county of Kerry is a ridge called M'Gillicuddy's Rocks; the highest point of which is supposed to exceed 3000 feet. Some of the detached mountains are of a great height: such as Mount Nephin, in Mayo, 2630 feet; and Croagh Patrick, on the south-East of Clew Bay, 2640 feet.

Fig.ofref. Mountain* Situation Heightinfeet

83 Ben Nevis . . Invemess-shire. 4358

84 Cairn Gorm . Banffshire. 4080

85 Snowdon . . Caernarvonshire. 3571

86 Ben Lomond . Stirlingshire. 3240

87 HelvelHn . • Cumberland. 3055

88 Skiddaw . • Ditto. 3022

89 Ben Ledi . • Perthshire. 3009

90 Cader Idris . . Merionethshire. 2914

91 Brecknock Beacon . Brecknockshire. 2863

92 Cheviot Hills . Northumberland 2658

93 Paps of Jura. Isle of Jura. 2470

94 Plynlimmon . . Cardiganshire. 2463

95 Pentland Hills . Edinburghshire. 1750

96 Malvern Hills . Worcestershire. 1444

97 Arthur's Seat . Edinburghshire. 822

98 Beechy Head . Sussex. 564

99 Dover Casde . . Kent 469

100 Shooter's Hill . Ditto. 446

101 Greenwich Observatory Ditto. 214

102 Goat Fell . . Isle of Arran. 2945

103 SneaFell . . Ise of Man. 2004 The following remarkable elevations have been introduced upon

the plate, at a practical elucidation of the descriptive part of this Essay, by means of comparison. Letofref Height in feet.

a Convent of St. Bernard (above the line of snow) 8,606 b Convent of St. Gothard . . • 6,900

c Luke Luc,on, in Switzerland . • • 6,220

d Lake of Lucerne, ditto . • • L380

Lake of Geneva ditto ... • 1.207

Line of Perpetual Snow in Scotland . . 3,750

e Edinburgh City . . • • f«

f London, St. Paul's Cathedral . . • «0

g Daba, near the source of the Sutledj, in Tibet 15,700 h Manasarooa Lake, in Tibet . . • 14,500

i Milum Temple, near the source of the Ganges 13,000 k Highest Flight of the Condor on the Andes 21,000 1 Ascent of Gay Lussac, at Paris, in 1804, the

greatest height ever attained by a Balloon . 22,900 m Longwood House, St. Helena . • • 2,000

n Pyramids of Egypt . 475

o Greatest Altitude attained by Messrs. Humboldt and Bonpland, on Chimboraco, in 1802 19,400 p Farm of Antisana, the highest inhabited spot

on the Andes . . : 13,435

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1. The Bible Spelling Book.

2. The Bible Lesson Book.

3. Abridgment Of Bible Historic

4. Exercises In Grammar.
6. Exercises In Arithmetic.

6. Exercises In The History Of England

7. Exercises In Modern History.

8. Exercises In Ancient History

9. Exercises In Geography.

10. Exercises In Astronomy.

11. Exercises In Mechanics.

12. Exercises In Natural History.

13. Exercises In Botany.

14. Readings In History.

15. Readings In Biography.

16. Readings In Poetry.

17. Readings In Science.

18. Views Of Nature And Society.—I. A Morning on the Mountains.

19. Scenes And Sketches from British History, Vol. I.

20. Sadoc And Miriam, a Jewish Tale.

21. A System Of Geography.

22. Ancient History.

23. A History Of Mohammedanism.

24. A System Of Natural Philosophy.

M. A History Of England.

26. Biography Of Sacred Poets.

27. The Zoology Of The Bible.

28. The Botany Of The Bible.

29. The Geography Of The Bible.

30. Original Sermons,by the most Distinguished Living Bishops And Pastors Of The Church, fitted to be read in Families.

31. Sunday Exercises On The Collects.

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About four miles to the eastward of Tides-well, after passing a succession of those dreary Derbyshire hills whose surface of scanty grass is only broken by the lines of cheerless stone-wall boundary which intersect them in every direction, the traveller will see before him a few patches of trees, above whose summits a small, square, unobtrusive steeple peers over the wild country. It is Eyam, which, though "little amongst the cities of the plain, and the thousands of Judah," hath a remembrance which shall not perish from the earth as long as the well-being of society shall be considered as connected with the influence of a faithful minister over an attached and respecting flock.

All who feel how vividly local associations can recall scenes and events of past life, will enter fully into our views in selecting this retired spot, at a moment when the pestilence which walketh in darkness, is again mysteriously hovering around our dwellings, and when the devotion of a Mompesson may again be called for, to stand between the living and the dead, that the plague be stayed. It is with such feelings that we present Eyam Church to the notice of our readers, confident that even our brief narrative will not be without its use; and still more confident that he who should peradventure be induced, by our simple tale, to visit Eyam and its Riley Graves, will as he wanders amongst the precincts of its dead, recall with the vividness of present impression the events of years long gone by, and strengthen feelings which may be powerfully called into action for a similarly fearful season, which he knows not how soon may be at hand. Vol. I.

Towards the close of the autumn of 1665, a few suspicious cases of sudden death excited a wellgrounded fear, that the plague, which had been ravaging the Continent, had found its way into the metropolis. Winter however passed, and as the variations in the bills of mortality were not very striking, it was hoped that the disease, if not entirely quenched, was at least of so mild a nature, that its progress would not exceed the usual bounds of those periodical infectious fevers which so frequently insinuate themselves amidst dense and dissolute populations. But, as summer advanced, such hopes were found to be entirely delusive; and, about the month of May, a decisive plague, with all its horrors, established itself, and continued with increasing fatality throughout the season.

For a time it was chiefly confined to London and its neighbourhood, but gradually it extended itself into the country; and towards the latter end of July, it was conveyed to the unfortunate village which is the subject of this narrative, in a box of woollen clothes. The tailor to whom they were directed was, together with his family, the immediate victim of this fatal importation; and a few days sufficed to confirm the fact that the entire hamlet was deeply infected. A general panic ensued, and there was too much reason for supposing, that a fugitive population, hurrying instinctively to the neighbouring villages, would carry with them the seeds of death, and that, far and wide, victims would be added to the hourly increasing number.


At this eventful and awful crisis, the rector, William Mompessoti, summoned the parish, and after energetically stating the case, and declaring his decided intention of remaining at his post, induced his hearers to adopt the measures he was about to propose, if not for their own preservation, at least for the more important cause—the preservation of the surrounding country. With an ardent desire to save his wife and two children, and devote himself alone in this hazardous service, he entreated Mrs. Mompesson to depart, but without effect: she positively refused to quit him, and the children alone were removed to the care of some distant friends. From this moment, Eyam, like a besieged city, was cut off from the living world; and to the zeal and fidelity of this ever-to-be-respected minister was confided the present as well as eternal welfare of those who were about to prove to posterity, that devotion to their country as well as to their God, was combined in the truly Christian creed taught them by this reverend man.

His first step was to write to the Earl of Devonshire, then resident at Chatsworth, acquainting him with his intention, and pledging himself that if, through the Earl"s influence, a regular supply of provisions could be daily placed on certain spots upon the adjacent hills, not a single parishioner would transgress the boundary; and troughs or wells are still shewn, which were then filled with water, and placed at the boundary line of communication, to receive and purify the money deposited in exchange; and a small stream, which, it is said, supplied and replenished these reservoirs, was long known by the hallowed name of Mompesson's brook.

The Earl fully appreciating such conduct on the part of the minister, entered warmly into his views, and, undeterred by the dread of infection, remained during the whole of its continuance, superintending the supply, and, by his personal influence and example, assisting Mr. Mompesson, whose next step was to impede the progress of the malady, by erecting small insulated huts, in airy and distant positions, to which the afflicted were with all due speed removed.

Aware, moreover, that any assemblage of people breathing the same air under a confined roof, and coming into immediate contact with each other, must be highly dangerous, he closed the church, availing himself of a nobler substitute, "not made with hands," —namely, a rock, projecting from the side of a steep hill, about half a mile from the village, in a deep and narrow dingle. This rock is excavated through in different directions, the arches being from twelve to eighteen feet high. In the midst of this romantic dell, from one of those natural porticos, three times a week did he read prayers, and twice on Sundays did he address to his death-stricken congregation the words of eternal life. By his own immediate direction, they arranged themselves on the glassy declivity near the bottom, at the distance of a yard asunder. The spot is deservedly still held sacred, and known by the name of Cucklet Church. Can imagination conceive a more awfully affecting and impressive scene than the gathering together of such a congregation, listening to the word of truth, which alone could give them comfort, uttered by one appointed to watch over and prepare them for that death which had now become the familiar companion of their solitude?

As the summer advanced, the ranks of this devoted flock were rapidly thinned, though Mr. and Mrs. Mompesson had been hitherto spared. But the time was at hand when the one was to be taken and the other left. In the second week of August,

She sickened—and the plague spot on her breast
Revealed toe fatal troth j—

for, in the 27th year of her age, dying in her hue band's arms, she was called to her eternal rest. Hei monument may still be seen at no great distance from the chancel door,—a plain raised slab, formerly surrounded with iron rails, though none at present remain.

It would appear, from the very crowded accumulation of graves in the church-yard, many bearing date 1666, that for a time, at least, the dead were deposited there in the usual manner, but probably the space was soon occupied, and it was found necessary to inter the remainder wherever the relatives chose; for although now few memorials exist, within the memory of man, in several places, particularly in a small plot of ground close to the village, many grave-stones remained; but with an unpardonable indecency and indifference, these sacred records of so interesting a period of parochial history, have been removed and appropriated to other purposes.

About three years ago, a few skeletons were discovered beneath the flooring of a barn, evidently placed there as a matter of convenience, without coffins, or any other perceptible coverings. Besides the church-yard and the small plot of ground just alluded to, one other appears to have been a favourite burying-ground—it is called the Riley grave-stones, —on an elevated exposed hill, about half a mile from the village. Some years ago, numberless little sepulchral mounds were risible, but they are all obliterated, and nothing now remains to identify the spot, saving six head-stones and a tomb, memorials of a whole family, who, with the exception of one" boy, Were carried off in eight days.

Soon after the death of Mrs. Mompesson, the disorder began to abate, and in about two months might be said to have entirely ceased.

In a letter to John Beilby, Esq., dated Nov. 20th, 1666, Mr. Mompesson says :—

* The condition of this place has been to sua", that I persuade myself it did exceed all history and example: I may truly say that our place has become a Golgotha,—the place of a skull: and had there not been a small remnant of us left, 'we had been as Kodonia, and been made like unto Gomorrah.' My cars never heard, my eyes never beheld, such ghastly spectacles. Now, blessed be God, all our fears ave over"; for none have died of the infection since the 11th of October, and all the pest-houses have long been empty. I intend, God willing, to spend most of this week in seeing all woollen cloaths fumed and purified, as well for (he satisfaction as the safety of the country

"Here has been such burnings of goods, that the like, I think, was never known: I have scarcely left myself apparel to shelter my body from the cold, and have wasted more than needed, merely for example. As for my part, I cannot say that I had ever belter health than during the time of the dreadful visitation; neither can I say that I have had any symptoms uf the disease."

The merits of Mr. Mompesson were rewarded by advancement in his profession. In a few years he obtained the prebendary of Southwell, and rectory of Earllring, in Northamptonshire. The deanery of Lincoln was next offered him; but he declined it in favour of his friend, Dr. Fuller, to whom he had promised his interest, and for whom he obtained the deanery.

In the church-yard stands a beautiful ancient cross, of which we give an engraving. Of its early history and original intention, nothing is known beyond a vague tradition of its having been found on one of the neighbouring hills. It is at present in a very dilapidated state; about two feet of the top of the shaft are wanting. Within the memory of man, this fragmental remnant was known to nave been thrown carelessly about the church-yard, as a stone of no value, until it was broken up by some rude hand, and knocked to pieces for domestic purposes. Still, in its present blemished state, it is a relic of inestimable value, of which the parishioners of Eyam may well be proud: the more so, as its existence in its present situation is associated with one of the dearest friends of humanity, the benevolent Howard, who, in the year before he last left England, visited Eyam, to examine the records of the Plague. He found it prostrate in the church-yard, and nearly overgrown with docks and ■ thistles. At his suggestion, the top part of the cross was replaced on its imperfect shaft, and thus it has remained ever since.—Abridged from the British Magazine.

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Curious MonE or Navigation.—My passage from Falmouth to Barbados, in the packet, was agreeable enough ; but at this island, in order to complete my voyage to La Guayra, I was transferred to one of his Majesty's mail boats, a dirty little schooner, with a cabin six feet by six, scarcely a pint of fresh water, and most untouchable provisions. These, however, were trifles. When we got out to sea, I found that the captain of this gallant bark (which is entrusted with the conveyance of the mail from Barbados to La Guayra, a voyage of about six days) never encumbered himself with either compass or quadrant. They have so much experience of the currents which prevail in these seas, that they arc never at a loss to find the north; independently of which, they can hardly sail twenty-four hours on a stretch without making some one of the islands. Should both these resources fail, however, they have one in reserve which never does. Each island in the West Indies has its peculiar sea-bird. wherever these birds may wander during the day, they invariably seek their own island at sunset; the captain, therefore, never fails to know from the direction in which he sees a particular bird fly, towards sunset, where each island lies.

The birds that build hanging nests are at Cape Cormorin numerous. At night each of their little habitations is lighted up, as if to see company. The sagacious little bird fastens a bit of clay to the top of the nest, and then picks up a bar fly, and sticks it on the clay to illuminate the dwelling, which consists of two rooms. Sometimes there are three or four fire-flies, and their blaze of light in the little cell dazzles the eyes of the bats, which often kill the young of these birds.— I)h. Buchanan.

SPANISH ROBBERS. The noise of the hoofs and bells of our mules, and the clattering of the wheels, were silenced. The rapid progress of the Diligence ceasing suddenly, my body was thrown forward with my head against the panel. By the light of a lantern that blazed from the top of the Diligence, I could discover that this part of the road was skirted by olive trees, and that the mules having come in contact with some obstacle to their progress, had been thrown into confusion, and stood huddled together as if afraid to move. A single glance to the right gave a clue to the mystery. Just beside the fore-wheel of the Diligence stood a man, dressed in that wild garb of Valencia, which I had seen for the first time in Amposta. His red cap, which flaunted far down his back, was in front drawn closely over his forehead; and his striped mantle, instead of being rolled round him, hung unembarrassed from one shoulder. Whilst his left leg was thrown forward in preparation, a musket was levelled in his hands, along the barrel of which his eye glared fiercely upon the visage of the conductor. On the other side, the scene was somewhat different. Pepe, our postilion, had abandoned the reins, and jumped from his seat to the road side, intending to escape among the trees. Unhappy youth, that he should not have accomplished his purpose! He was met by the muzzle of a musket when he had scarce touched the ground, and a third ruffian appearing at the same moment from the treacherous concealment of the very trees towards which he was flying, he was effectually taken and brought round into the road, where he was made to stretch himself upon his face, as had already been done with the conductor.

I could now distinctly hear one of these robbers, for such they were, inquire in Spanish of the Mayoral as to the number of passengers; if any were armed; whether there was any money in the Diligence; and then, as a conclusion to the interrogatory, demanding the purse in a more angry tone. The poor fellow meekly obeyed. He raised himself high enough to draw a large leathern purse from an inner pocket, and stretching his hand upward to deliver it, said, "Toma usted, caballero, pero no me quita nsted la vida!" —" Take it, Cavalier, but do not take away my life." The robber, however, was pitiless. Bringing a stone from a large heap collected for the repairs of the road, he fell to beating the Mayoral upon the head with it. The unhappy man sent forth the most piteous cries for mercy and for pity. He might as well have asked pity of the stone that smote him, as of the wretch who wielded it. In his agony he invoked all those sacred names held in reverence by the people, and most likely to arrest the rage of the assassin. All in vain: the murderer redoubled his blows,—until, growing furious in the task, he laid his musket beside him, and worked with both hands upon his victim. The cries for pity which blows had first excited—blows at length quelled. They had gradually increased with the suffering to the most terrible shrieks, then declined into low inarticulate moans, until a deep drawn and agonized gasp for breath, and an occasional convulsions, alone remained to shew that the vital principle had not yet departed.

It fared even worse with Pepe, though instead of the cries for pity which had availed the Mayoral so little, he uttered nothing but low moans, that died away in the dust beneath him. One might have thought that the extreme youth of the lad would have insured him compassion; but, no such thing. The robbers were doubtless of Amposta, and being known to him, dreaded discovery. When both the victims had been rendered insensible there was a short pause,


and a consultation in a low voice between the ruffians, who then proceeded to execute their plans. The first Went round to the left side of the Diligence, and having unhooked the iron-shoe, and placed it under the wheel as an additional security against escape, opened the door of the interior, and mounted on the steps: I could hear him distinctly utter a terrible threat in Spanish, and demand an ounce of gold from each of the passengers. This was answered by the Valencian shopkeeper, who said they had not so much money, but what they had would be given willingly. There was then a jingling of purses—some pieces dropping on the floor in the hurry and agitation of the moment. Having remained a short time at the door of the interior, he did not come to the cabriolet, but passed at once to the rotunda. Here he used greater caution, doubtless from having seen the evening before at Amposta, that it contained no women, but six young students, who were all stout fellows. They were made to come down one by one from their strong hold, deliver their money and watches, and then lie flat upon their faces in the road.

Meanwhile the second robber, after consulting with his companion, returned to the spot where poor Pepe lay rolling from side to side. As he went towards him, he drew a knife from the folds of his sash, and having opened it, placed one of his naked legs on either side of his victim. Pushing aside the jacket of the youth, he bent forward, and dealt him repeated blows in every part of the body. The young priest, my companion, shrunk back shuddering into his corner, and hid his face within his trembling fingers; but my own eyes seemed spell-bound, for I could not withdraw them from the cruel spectacle, and my ears were more sensible than ever. Though the windows at the front and sides were still closed, I could distinctly hear each stroke of the murderous knife, as it entered its victim. It was not a blunt sound, as of a weapon that meets with positive resistance; but a hissing noise, as if the household instrument made to part the bread of peace performed unwillingly its task of treachery. This moment was the unhappiest in my life; and it struck me at the time, that if any situation could be more worthy of pity, than to die the dog's death of poor Pepe, it was to be compelled to witness his fate, without the power to aid him.

Having completed the deed to his satisfaction, this cold-blooded murderer came to the door of the cabriolet, and endeavoured to open it. He shook it violently, calling to us to assist him; but it had chanced hitherto that we had always got out on the other side, and the young priest, who had never before been in a Diligence, thought from the circumstance that there was but one door, and therefore answered the fellow, that he must go to the other side. On the first arrival of these unwelcome visitors, I had taken a valuable watch from my waistcoat pocket and slipped it into my boot; but when they fell to beating in the heads of our guides, I bethought me that the few dollars I carried in my purse might not satisfy them, and replaced it again, in readiness to be delivered at the shortest notice. These precautions, however, were unnecessary. The third ruffian, who had continued to make the circuit of the Diligence with his musket in his hand, paused a moment in the road, ahead of us, and having placed his head on the ground, as if to listen, presently came and spoke in an under-tone to his companions. They stood for a moment over the Mayoral, and struck his head with the butt of the musket, whilst the fellow who had before used the knife, returned to make a few farewell thrusts,—and in another moment they had all disappeared from around us.

In a subsequent page, our author says, poor Pepe. breathed his last, about eight hours after the attack, long before his widowed mother could arrive to close the eyes of her child. The conductor, after lingering a week, shared the fate of Pepe. The three robbers were taken into custody. One of them was a native of Perpignan, son to a man who had formerly kept the inn where the Diligence put up in Amposta. The other two were natives of the town, and all were acquaintances of Pepe; possibly, the very varlets who were playing at cards beneath our window. My informant could not tell me whether the murderers were likely to suffer for their crime. The fact of one of them being a stranger rendered it probable; but if they had money to put into the hands of an escribano, or notary, to fee him and the judges who would be called to decide upon the case, or to buy an escape, or as the last resort, if they could procure the interposition of the clergy, they might yet go unpunished.

Such is Spain!

[A Year in Spain, by a young American.]

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Which produces the well-known spice used in flavouring various dishes, and making pickles, is a native of the West Indies, and is particularly cultivated in Jamaica. The pimento trees grow spontaneously, and in great abundance, in many parts of that island, but more particularly on the hills near the sea, on the northern side, where they form the most delicious groves that can possibly be imagined; filling the air with fragrance, and giving reality, though in a very distant part of the globe, to our great poet's description of those balmy gales which convey to the delighted voyager—

Sabean odours from the spicy shore

Of Araby the blest.

Chear'd with the grateful smell, old Ocean smiles.

This tree is purely a child of nature, and seems to mock all the endeavours of man to improve or extend its growth: not one attempt in fifty to remove the young plants, or to raise them from the seeds, in parts of the country where they are not found growing spontaneously, has succeeded.

The usual method of forming a new pimento plantation (in Jamaica it is called a walk,) is nothing more than to appropriate a piece of woodland in the

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