several stations are equally the guardians of the peace, happiness, and prosperity of the nation to which they belong; and it becomes both their duty | and their interest, either to prevent the introduction of any traffic of an injurious character, or to expel that from the land which may have been found to have such a tendency.

The facility with which ardent spirits are obtained in this country, cannot but be regarded as the cause of those habits of intemperance which deface the fair page of our moral history. Drunkenness prevails to a lamentable extent throughout the land, and is the fruitful source of idleness, poverty, immorality, and crime. So far from being diminished, it seems rather on the increase; and the fearful change which it has wrought in the character of our artisans and labouring population, calls for the adoption of some measure to arrest its course.

Ardent spirits are destructive of health, property, and morals; unfit to be used by persons in health, being destitute of any nutritious quality; and the traffic in them is injurious to the prosperity of the country. Besides the misery which the use of them inflicts on individuals and families, it greatly augments the national expenditure. It increases the poor's rates by increasing pauperism; it enhances the expense of judicial proceedings by promoting crime; and our hospitals and lunatic asylums are indebted to the same cause for by far the greater proportion of their wretched inmates. If the money wasted in the purchase of this worse than useless superfluity, were spent on articles of real utility, a stimulus would be given to trade, manufactures, and commerce.

Such being the consequences of the traffic in ardent spirits, as proved by incontrovertible evidence, the welfare of the nation calls for its suppression. This must be accomplished, not by an appeal to the legislature for an Act of Parliament to abolish the trade, but by enlightened public opinion. If the community be convinced of the noxious qualities of ardent spirit, and the vicious and immoral consequences to which habits of drinking lead, they will cease to buy, and the traffic must come to an end. But this object cannot be attained till the nation rise as one man to crush this enemy to its happiness. This is the result which the institutions called TEMPERANCE SOCIETIES aim to accomplish. The means they employ is simply the diffusion of information through the land, with a view to correct public opinion, and unite men and women in the practice of total abstinence from distilled spirits as an article of ordinary use. They act upon the well-established maxim that prevention is better than cure; and their first solicitation is to gain the countenance and support of the sober, temperate, respectable, and influential classes of the community, whose combined example may operate upon the mass of the population. Such being their principle and object, they deserve the support and assistance of every friend to humanity, and every lover of his country.

In most quarrels there is a fault on both sides.-A quarrel may be compared to a spark, which cannot be produced without a flint, as well as a steel; either of them may hammer on wood for ever, no fire will follow.

Learn of the little Nautilus to sail,

Spread the thin oar, and catch the driving gale.-POPE. To this little fish we are said to be indebted for one of the grandest and most useful inventions since the world began. It is thus described:-It swims on the surface of the sea, on the back of its shell, which exactly resembles the hull of a ship; it raises two feet like masts, and extends a membrane between, which serves as a sail; the other two feet are employed as oars. This fish is usually found in the Mediterranean.

A DEVONSHIRE SKETCH.

BY THE LATE REV. JOHN MARRIOTT, OF BROADCLYST.

YE green hills of Devon! I love to lock o'er ye;
The glow of your verdure refreshes my sight!
In the wild and majestic let Westmoreland glory;
But yours is the palm of more tranquil delight.
Not that robes of rich beauty, in which Nature dresses
Her features of boldness, your limits disown;

To him who could deem so, deep Lymouth's recesses,

And Dart's rocky borders, must all be unknown. But your own proper boast is the Combe, neatly rounded, Whilst the dews, o'er the uplands by which it is bounded, Which preserves through all seasons its emerald hue; Impart, in soft contrast, the mist's tender blue; Not deserted, though lonely: the vale in its centre, Girt with Barn and rough Linhay, encloses a farm; And o'er the warm nook of its deepest indenture, The orchard's fair bloom sheds its fugitive charm. An eye little used to such leafy profusion, Might fancy yon hedge-row one wide-waving wood; And furze and plumed fern, as to aid the illusion,

Here and there on the tameness of culture intrude..

But wildest the mixture of shrub, bush, and bramble,
And sweetest the scent which the wild flowers breathe,
Where the birchen-banks mark the stream's devious ramble,
And the ear drinks its musical murmurs beneath.

How soothing the sense of serenity stealing

O'er the mind, whilst on plenty and peace thus we gaze! Less grateful, perhaps, though more lively, the feeling Awaken'd by prospects that awe and amaze.

If in those we acknowledge the symbols of greatness;
If earth's pillars its Maker's omnipotence prove;
In these let us hail Him, "whose clouds distil fatness,"
And who crowneth the year with his goodness and love

THE MOCKING-BIRD. (Turdus polyglottus.) THE Mocking-bird is a species of thrush, not uncommon in many parts both of North and South America and the West India Islands. In size, it does not exceed the European song-bird, and perhaps is not equal to it in the beauty of its plumage; it is, however, far from being an inelegant creature, but it is better known for the peculiarity and amazing power of its voice. Although not gifted with any powerful weapons of self-defence, these birds display extraordinary courage in defence of their eggs and young, and will fearlessly attack any animal which may approach their haunts, even their greatest enemy, a species of black snake.

"To these qualities" (says Wilson, the American author), and musical, and capable of almost every modulation, we may add that of a voice full, strong, from the clear mellow tones of the wood-thrush, to the savage scream of the bald-eagle. In measure and accent, he faithfully follows his originals. In force and sweetness of expression, he greatly exceeds them. In his native groves, mounted on the top of a tall bush, or half-grown tree, in the dawn of dewy morning, while the woods are already vocal with a multitude of warblers, his admirable song rises pre-eminent over every competitor. The car can listen to his music alone, to which that of all the others seems a mere accompaniment. Neither is this strain altogether imitative. notes, which are easily distinguishable by such as are well acquainted with those of our various song-birds, are bold and full, and varied seemingly beyond all limits. His expanded wings and tail, glistening with white, and the buoyant gaiety of his action, arresting the eye as his song most irresistibly does the ear, he sweeps round with enthusiastic ecstacy. He mounts or descends as his song swells or dies away. While thus exerting himself, a bystander, destitute of sight, would suppose that the whole feathered tribes, had assembled together on a trial

His own native

of skill, each striving to produce his utmost effect; so perfect are his imitations. He many times deceives the sportsman, and sends him in search of birds that perhaps are not within miles of him, but whose notes he exactly imitates; even birds themselves are frequently imposed on by this admirable mimic, and are decoyed by the fancied calls of their mates, or dive with precipitation into the depths of thickets, at the scream of what they suppose to be the sparrow-hawk.

THE MOCKING BIRD.

He

"The mocking-bird loses little of the power and energy of his song by confinement. In his domesticated state, when he commences his career of song, it is impossible to stand by uninterested. whistles for the dog-Cæsar starts up, wags his tail, and runs to meet his master; he squeaks out like a hurt chicken-and the hen hurries about, with hanging wings and bristled feathers, clucking to protect its injured brood. The barking of the dog, the mewing of the cat, the creaking of a passing wheelbarrow, follow, with great truth and rapidity. He repeats the tune taught him by his master, though of considerable length, fully and faithfully. He runs over the quiverings of the canary and the clear whistlings of the Virginia nightingale, or the redbird, with such superior execution and effect, that the mortified songsters feel their own inferiority and become altogether silent, while he seems to triumph in their defeat by redoubling his exertions.

"Both in his native and domesticated state, during the solemn stilness of night, as soon as the moon rises in silent majesty, he begins his delightful solo; and serenades us the livelong night, with a full display of his vocal powers, making the whole neighbourhood ring with his inimitable melody."

A LOVER of natural history cannot I think be a bad man, as the very study of it tends to promote a calmness and serenity of mind, favourable to the reception of grateful and holy thoughts of the great and good Parent of the universe. He cannot be a cruel man, because he will be unwilling wantonly to destroy even an insect, when he perceives how exquisitively each of them is contrived, and how curiously it is made for the station it is destined to fill in the animal world. JESSE.

MANY methods have been suggested for saving life in cases of accidents on the water: the following was stated to me as an experiment actually made by the relater; he had thus supported himself in the sea, at Plymouth, for twenty minutes, and could have done it much longer. As danger of overturning or of sinking appears, have your hat in readiness, and place it under your chin, holding it with your hands in the same position upon the water as on the head. The air in the crown will prevent the water from rising, and is sufficient to keep the whole head above water. Homerton. JAMES EDMESTON.

622 On this day the flight of the impostor, Mohammed, from Mecca, took place, and from it his followers date the events of their history. This epoch is called, from the Arabic word, which signifies to fly, or to leave one's country, the Hegira. 1377 Richard II. only child of Edward the Black Prince, was crowned at Westminster. He did not inherit the warlike genius or the talents of his father and grandfather, but seems to have been of a mild, amiable disposition, and may truly be said, in the words of Shakspeare, to have been "a man more sinned against than sinning."

1546 Ann Askew, a young lady of great merit and beauty, (connected with most of the ladies of the court, and with the Queen, Catharine Parr,) was burned at Smithfield, for denying the doctrine of the real presence.

1800 Died, at his seat near Southampton, Bryan Edwards, the Author of the History of the West Indies.

WEDNESDAY, 17th.

1674 The remains of the two Princes, Edward V. and his Brother, were discovered in the Tower, and, by order of Charles II., removed to Westminster Abbey.

1761 Peter III., husband of Catherine II., was murdered. The unfortunate Emperor was strangled with a towel, and the next day his body was exposed to the populace, and his death attributed to that disease we now call cholera. THURSDAY, 18th.

371 B. C. The Battle of Leuctra, in which the Lacedemonians were defeated, and their general, Cleombrotus, slain. 1100 Death of Godfrey de Bouillon, the most celebrated leader among the princes and nobles who went on the first crusade: when Jerusalem was taken, he was unanimously chosen king. 1374 Petrarch, one of the earliest, as well as the most elegant, among the Italian poets, whose romantic attachment to the beautiful Laura has rendered his name familiar, even to those who are wholly ignorant of Italian literature, was found dead Louis XVIII. compelled to leave the army of the emigrants, in his library on the seventieth anniversary of his birth.

1796

and place himself in the hands of the Austrians.

1812 A Treaty of Peace between England and Sweden was signed at Erebo.

FRIDAY, 19th.

365 B. C. Rome was taken and pillaged by the Gauls, who put to the sword the senators and old men, who alone remained in the city.

64 Nero, for his amusement, caused Rome to be set on fire in various places. This conflagration was attributed by him to the Christians, and all who could not escape or conceal themselves, were put to death with the most cruel torments; among others, St. Peter and St. Paul suffered martyrdom. 1333 The Battle of Halidown Hill, in which the Scots were defeated by Edward III. 1588 The Spanish Armada arrived in the British Channel. This formidable fleet consisted of 130 vessels, carrying 2630 pieces of brass cannon. It was fitted out by Philip II. of Spain, and blessed by a special nuncio from the Pope. Its approach spread terror and dismay; but Elizabeth took advantage of the panic to excite her subjects to defend their country without draining her exchequer, and while nobles and citizens fitted out ships at their own charge, the lower orders flocked to man the vessels and defend the coasts. The armada, however was dispersed by a tempest, and, while still in disorder, attacked by the English under Lord Effingham, and compelled to seek safety in flight.

THE veneraole fortress of Conway Castle stands in a picturesque situation a short distance from the mouth of the river Conway, at the northern extremity of the county of Caernarvon. It was erected in 1284, by command of Edward the First, as a security against the insurrections of the Welch. Soon after its erection, the royal founder was besieged in it, and the garrison almost reduced by famine to a surrender, when they were extricated by the arrival of a fleet with provisions. At the commencement of the Civil Wars, it was garrisoned in behalf of King Charles, by Dr. John Williams, Archbishop of York, who, in 1645, gave the government of it to his nephew, William Hookes. Two years afterwards, the archbishop was superseded in the command of North Wales by Prince Rupert, at which he was greatly offended. He endeavoured to gain some redress from the King, but without success, and enraged at the injury, he joined Mytton, the Parliamentary general, and assisted in the reduction of Conway. The town was taken by storm, August 15th, 1646, but the Castle held out till the 6th of November.

The superiority of the fortress seemed to inspire respect, for while the Parliament forces dismantled other castles, they did not destroy this. It was afterwards granted by King Charles to the Earl of Conway and Kilulta, who had scarcely obtained possession, ere he ordered an agent to remove all the VOL. III.

timber, lead, iron and other materials. He did not, however, reap the fruits of this Vandal order, for th vessel in which the materials were being conveyed to Ireland, was wrecked, and all the property lost.

Thus unroofed and unprotected, the Castle has suffered much from wind and weather, but it still presents a fine specimen of an ancient fortress. It is in the form of an oblong square, and stands on the edge of a steep rock, washed on two sides by an arm of the river. The walls are all embattled, and are ten or twelve feet thick. They are flanked by eight vast circular embattled towers, each of which formerly had a slender machicolated tower rising from the top. On the side towards the river, one of the towers has been rent asunder by some of the inhabitants of the town quarrying the foundation for slates: part of it stands erect, and part hangs in a slanting direction, forming altogether a singular ruin. The interior consists of two courts, bounded by the various apartments, all of which are in a lamentable state of decay, though still bearing strong marks of former magnificence. Few buildings in the kingdom have more frequently called forth the talent of the artist; it has been made the scene of dramatic representation, and has often been the theme of the poet.

The Iron Suspension Bridge, which crosses the river exactly opposite to the Castle, is a structure of

67

peculiar elegance, and of great national importance, as it forms part of the communication between Liverpool and Dublin. It was commenced in 1822, with a view to supersede the dangerous ferry which formerly existed here; the designs for it were by Mr. Telford, and it was opened to the public on the 1st of June, 1826. The towers, on which the chains rest, are built in the same style of architecture as the castle, so as to harmonize with it; and a slight effort of the imagination would lead us to suppose that the present structure was the original drawbridge of the ancient fortress. The chains of the bridge are fastened at the west extremity into the rock beneath the castle, and at the eastern end into an island rock, which is connected with the shore by an embankment, upwards of 2000 feet in length. The length of the bridge, between the supporting towers, is 327 feet, and the height of the roadway, above high water of spring-tides, about 15 feet. An additional postage of one penny is charged for every letter conveyed over Conway Bridge, and this money is applied to the repayment of the sums advanced for the building. From the time of the erection of the Bridge, to October 1831, the sum thus raised and paid into the Exchequer, amounted to 13,7321, so that in little more than five years, upwards of three millions of letters must have been conveyed along this road.

The river Conway has been celebrated from the earliest period, for its pearl-fishery. Pliny asserts, that Julius Cæsar dedicated to Venus Genitrix, in her

temple at Rome, a breast-plate, set with British pearls; and Suetonius says, that the chief motive assigned by the Romans for the invasion of Britain, was to obtain possession of the pearl-fishery. This branch of commerce is not, however, held in much estimation at the present day, though the species of muscle, called by Linnæus the Mya Margaritifera, which produced the pearls, is still found in the river. A pearl presented to the queen of Charles II. by Sir R. Wynne, was placed in the regal crown.

The town of Conway was formerly surrounded by high massive walls, one mile and a half in circumference, strengthened at intervals by twenty-four circular and semicircular towers, great part of which, with the four principal gateways, yet remain in a tolerable state of preservation. A Cistercian Abbey

was founded at this place by Llewellyn ap Jorwerth in 1185, but scarcely any vestiges of it exist.

SUMMER.

OH! where is the voice of the summer heard?
In the flow of the stream, in the song of the bird;
In the hum of the honey-laden bee;
In the sound of the reaper's songs of glee;
In the sweet sad note of the nightingale's song.
Such music doth only to summer belong.
Oh! where is the smile of the summer seen?
In the golden cups that spring o'er the green;
In the light that maketh the bright blue sky
Shine like a golden canopy!

But summer its sweetest smile bestows,
On the crimson leaves of the blushing rose!

Surely, if heaven has given to earth,
One thought, in which we may guess its mirth,
'Tis the radiant smile of the summer glow,
As it wakes into life all things below;
But we are as captive birds that sigh
To wing our flight to a brighter sky.-C. L. B.

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THE MIGRATORY LOCUST. (Gryllus migratorius.)

THE following intelligence has lately been published: Locusts have appeared in such swarms in some departments of the west of France, and have become so deSarthe have assigned a sum of 6000 francs for their destructive to vegetation, that the Council General of the struction, at the rate of ten sous a bushel."

If such a dreadful scourge has made its appearance, the knowledge of the destruction which these insects bring upon the countries they infest, will make us, it is hoped, thankful to that kind Providence, which, among the other advantages bestowed upon this favoured country, has settled us in a region free from their inroads *.

gion upon the Dnieper, and particularly that inhabited In respect to Europe, Thevenot tells us that the reby the Cossacks, is greatly infested with Locusts, especially in a dry season. They come in vast clouds, which extend fifteen, and sometimes eighteen miles, and are nine to twelve in breadth. The air is rendered quite obscure; in two hours they devour all the corn wherever they settle, and oftentimes a famine ensues; at night, the ground is covered with them four inches deep and more.

The Sieur Beauplan, in speaking of the Ukraine, gives the following account of them. (CHURCHILL'S Collection of Voyages, vol. i.)

"Next to the flies, let us talk of the grasshopPers (or locusts). I have seen this plague several These creatures do not only come in legions, but in years, one after another, particularly in 1645 and 1646. whole clouds, five or six leagues in length, and two or three in breadth. It is not easy to express their numbers, for all the air is full and darkened, and when they alight to feed, the plains are all covered. They make a murmuring noise as they eat, and in less than two hours they devour all close to the ground; then, rising, they suffer themselves to be carried away by nished to see the air so full of them, that I could the wind. Having stayed at Novogorod, I was astohouses being filled, even the stables, barns, chambers, not eat in my chamber without a candle; all the garrets, cellars, &c. After they had consumed all that grew in the country, and having gained strength to fly, the wind took them up and carried them away, to do as much mischief in another place. I have seen them at night, when they sit to rest themselves, that the roads have been four inches thick of them, one upon another. By the wheels of our carts and the feet of our horses bruising these creatures, there came from them a stink, which not only offended the nose but the brain. I was not able to endure the stench, but was forced to wash my nose with vinegar, and to hold an handkerchief dipped in it to my nostrils perpetually. About October, they make a hole in the ground with their tails, and, having laid their eggs, and covered them with their feet, they die, for they never live above six months and a half; and, though the rains should come they would not destroy the eggs, nor does the frost, though never so sharp, hurt them; but they continue to the spring, which is about mid April, when, the sun warming the earth, they are hatched and leap about, being six weeks old before they can fly.

The most, fearful accounts are from Africa, where the heat of the climate, and the nature of the soil in

young wheat.-Encycl. Edin.