front are Hindoos, and the two behind Mohammedans. | This union of interests among the votaries of Mohammed and of Brahma, can only take place where the prejudices of caste are despised, which is now not unfrequently the case amongst the lowest of the four civil divisions of the Hindoo population.

The group in the print are seated upon a coarse rug in an open verandah, exercising their musical skill for the amusement of the master of the house and his friends. The figure on the left is the principal vocal performer; he beats time with the fingers of his right hand on the palm of the left, while he is accompanied by his three companions on their re-, spective instruments. The figure upon the right plays upon a sort of trilateral guitar, an instrument certainly not common among Hindoo musicians, as it is not enumerated either by Ward, or by the author of the work to which I have before alluded. He also

accompanies the instrument with his voice. Of the figures in the rear, one is playing on a sarinda, the common violin of Hindoostan, while the other performs upon two drums, one of which he strikes with the fingers of his left hand, and rubs the other with those of his right, as Europeans occasionally play the tambourine.

These vagrant musicians are generally any thing but adepts in their art. It must be confessed, that frequently, as CAPTAIN LUARD asserts in the brief descriptions which accompany his beautiful lithographic prints *, "nothing can equal the discord both of their vocal and instrumental music. If," he continues, "the noise made by this group when it was sketched, could be heard on viewing the drawing, the page would be closed for ever." I. H. C.

*Sketches in India, published by Dickenson, Old Bond-street, kon one of which the Engraving which precedes this article is copied.

ON THE PERIODICAL CASTING OF THE SHELL OF THE LOBSTER.

THE process by which the periodical casting and renewal of the shell of lobsters are effected, has been very satisfactorily investigated by Réaumur. The tendency in the body and in the limbs, to expand during growth, is restrained by the limited dimensions of the shell, which resists the efforts to enlarge its diameter. But this force of expansion goes on increasing, till at length it is productive of much uneasiness to the animal, which is, in consequence, prompted to make a violent effort to relieve itself; by this means it generally succeeds in bursting the shell; and then, by dint of repeated struggles, extricates its body and its limbs. The lobster first withdraws its claws, and then its feet, as if it were pulling them out of a pair of boots: the head next throws off its case, together with its antennæ; and the two eyes are disengaged from their horny pedicles. In this operation, not only the complex apparatus of the jaws, but even the horny cuticle and teeth of the stomach, are all cast off along with the shell: and, last of all, the tail is extricated. But the whole process is not accomplished without longcontinued efforts. Sometimes the legs are lacerated or torn off, in the attempt to withdraw them from the shell; and in the younger crustacea, the operation is not unfrequently fatal. Even when successfully accomplished, it leaves the animal in a most languid state: the limbs, being soft and pliant, are scarcely able to drag the body along. They are not, however, left altogether without defence.

For some time before the old shell was cast off, preparations had been making for forming a new The membrane which lined the shell had been acquiring greater density, and had already collected

one.

a quantity of liquid materials proper for the consolidation of the new shell. These materials are mixed with a large proportion of colouring matter, of a bright scarlet hue, giving it the appearance of red blood, though it differs totally from blood in all its other properties. As soon as the shell is cast off, this membrane, by the pressure from within, is suddenly expanded, and by the rapid growth of the soft parts, soon acquires a much larger size than the former shell. Then the process of hardening the calcareous ingredient commences, and is rapidly completed; while an abundant supply of fresh matter is added, to increase the strength of the solid walls which are thus constructing for the support of the animal. Réaumur estimates that the lobster gains, during each change of its covering, an increase of one-fifth of its former dimensions. When the animal has attained its full size, no operation of this kind is required, and the same shell is permanently retained.

A provision appears to be made, in the interior of the animal, for the supply of the large quantity of calcareous matter required for the construction of the shell at the proper time. A magazine of carbonate of lime is collected, previous to each change of shell, in the form of two round masses, one on each side of the stomach. In the crab these balls have received the absurd name of crabs' eyes; and during the formation of the shell they disappear.

It

It is well known that when an animal of this class has been deprived of one of its claws, that part is, in a short time, replaced by a new claw, which grows from the stump of the one which had been lost. appears from the investigations of Réaumur, that this new growth takes place more readily at particular parts of the limb, and especially at the joints; and

O. N.

THE angels of heaven, who are spirits, see God present to them; but we on earth can only see him through a glass darkly, when we contemplate his glory in the sun, his terrors in the thunder, his wrath in the lightning, his quickening power in the air that gives us breath, his majesty in the noise of the sea, and the gathering of the clouds. JONES of Nayland.

BISHOP KEN.

THE remains of the pious BISHOP KEN are deposited in Frome churchyard. It has been erroneously stated, that there is not a stone to mark where he lies; whereas, there is a monument near the spot, probably erected at the time of his death, by the noble family at Long Leat, where the Bishop died; but the sculpture is decayed, and the epitaph has disappeared. Some years ago, one of the churchwardens was induced, by respect and veneration for his memory, to plant a few flowers round the grave, and some of these still remain. The following verses were composed by the Rev. W. L. BOWLES, Canon Residentiary of Salisbury Cathedral, and writer of a Life of Ken.

UPON this nook of earth forlorn,
Which KEN his spot of burial chose,
Peaceful shine, oh! Sabbath morn;
And eve, with gentlest hush, repose.

To him is raised no marble tomb,

Within the dim cathedral-fane;

But some faint flowers of summer bloom,
And silent falls the winter's rain.

This only monumental stone

Records his resting-place and name-
What recks it! when thy task is done;
Christian! how vain the sound of fame.

Oh! far more grateful to thy God,

The voices of poor children rise",
Who hasten o'er the dewy sod,
To pay their morning sacrifice.
And who can hear their evening hymn-
When sad, and slow, a distant knell
Tolls o'er the fading landscape dim,

As if to say," Vain world, farewell!"
Without a thought, that, from the dust,

The morn shall wake the sleeping clay,
And bid the faithful and the just
Up-spring to Heav'n's eternal day.

* Alluding to Morning and Evening Hymns," by Bishop Ken,

OF MODERATION.

I CANNOT but commend, says Bishop Hall, that great clerk of Paris, who, when King Louis of France required him to write down the best word that ever he had learnt, called for a fair skin of parchment, and in the midst of it wrote this one word Measure, and sent it sealed up to the king. The king, opening the sheet, and finding no other inscription, thought himself mocked by his philosopher, and calling for him, expostulated the matter; but when it was showed him that all virtues, and all religious and worthy actions were regulated by this one word, and that without this, virtue itself turned vicious, he rested satisfied; and so he well might; for it is a word well worthy of the seven sages of Greece, from whom, indeed, it was borrowed, and only put into a new coat. For while he said of old, (for his motto,) Nothing too much, he meant no other than to comprehend both extremes under the mention of one: neither in his sense is it any paradox to say, that too little is too much; for as too much bounty is prodigality, so too much sparing is niggardness. Neither could aught be spoken of more use or excellency; for what goodness can there be in the world without moderation, whether in the use of God's creatures, or in our own disposition and carriage. Without this, justice is no more than cruel rigour; mercy, unjust remissness; pleasure, brutish sensuality; love, frenzy; anger, fury; sorrow, desperate mopishness; joy, distempered wildness; knowledge, saucy curiosity; piety, superstition; care, wracking distraction; courage, mad rashness; shortly there can be nothing under Heaven without it, but mere vice and confusion: like as in nature, if the elements should forget the temper of their due mixture, and encroach upon each other by excess, what would follow but universal ruin?

rior world stands; since the wise and great God, It is, therefore, moderation by which this infewho hath ordained the continuance of it, hath decreed so to contemper all the parts thereof, that none of them should exceed of their own proportion and degree, to the prejudice of the other. Yea, what is the heaven itself, but (as Gerson comequal sway of all the orbs, without difference of pares it well) as a great clock regularly moving in an poise, without variation of minutes, in a constant state of eviternal evenness, both of being and motion. Neither is it any other, by which this little world of ours (whether of body or mind) is upheld in any safe and tolerable estate; when humours pass their stint, the body sickens; when the passions, the mind.

There is nothing, therefore, in the world more wholesome, or more necessary for us to learn, than this gracious lesson of moderation; without which, in very truth, a man is so far from being a Christian, that he is not himself. This is the centre wherein all, both divine and moral, philosophy meet; the rule of life, the governess of manners, the silken string that runs through the pearl-chain of all virtues, the very ecliptic line, under which reason and religion moves without deviation; and, therefore, most worthy of our best thoughts, of our most careful observance. -BISHOP HALL.

NOTHING but the sanctifying influences of religion can subdue, and keep in tolerable order, that pride which is the concomitant of great talents with a bad education.— HANNAH MORE.

RICHES, honours, and pleasures, are the sweets which destroy the mind's appetite for its heavenly food; poverty disgrace, and pain, are the bitters which restore it BISHOP HORNE.

TUNNELS.

THE THAMES AND MEDWAY CANAL. UNTIL Mr. Brunel commenced his great and interesting undertaking below the bed of the Thames, but little attention seems to have been excited to the important works of the kind previously completed in this country above-ground, or indeed, to the subject of tunnelling generally. The idea, however, of constructing tunnels for the purpose of facilitating inland navigation, is by no means new; and appears to have been first carried into effect in France, by M. Regnet, an eminent engineer in the reign of Louis the Fourteenth, who thus conveyed the canal of Languedoc through a mountain which obstructed its progress. It was not until about the middle of the last century, that Brindley, who is, perhaps, the greatest engineer which this country has produced, excavated the first tunnel in England, on the Duke of Bridgewater's canal, in the neighbourhood of Manchester. Subsequently to this, the same eminent individual drove a tunnel through Harecastle Hill, in Staffordshire, for the purpose of uniting the navigation of the Trent with the Mersey; a work of great magnitude, in consequence of the nature of the ground. This excavation is 2880 yards in length, and between 70 and 80 yards under ground.

The Sapperton tunnel, by which the Thames and Severn were united, is another splendid instance of public enterprise, and individual ability; it extends for a distance of two miles and three quarters, two miles of which were cut through the solid rock. The Great Drift, or tunnel in the neighbourhood of Newcastle, however, is the most extensive undertaking ever executed in this department of engineering. This great work, (which was completed in 1797,) is excavated through a whinstone rock of extreme hardness, (equalling the hardest flint in the density of its texture,) for the greater part of its extent. The Liverpool tunnel, at the commencent of the railway, is one of the most considerable works recently executed. Its length is 2250 yards; it is twentytwo feet wide, and sixteen feet high. A double line of railway runs throughout, and a row of gas-lights is suspended from the centre of the arched roof, at a distance of twenty-five yards from each other. "The effect," remarks Mr. Stephenson, the engineer to this splendid national work, "is strikingly beautiful, for the rays of light from each lamp throw a distinct luminous arch on the roof, and the series diminishing according to the laws of perspective, gives the appearance of a number of distinct arches, instead of one continued vault." Another tunnel of some extent has still more recently been executed near Buxton, on that extensive public undertaking, the Cromford and High Peak railway.

These notices of some of the most remarkable tunnels now existing in this country, may not be uninteresting, as introductory to a notice of the subject of our engraving, the tunnel on the Thames and Medway Canal, between Gravesend and Rochester, itself a work of no ordinary magnitude.

By referring to a map, it will be seen, that that part of Kent which lies immediately to the eastward of Gravesend, projects into the German Ocean between the courses of the Thames and Medway, which previously to their junction at the Nore run for about twelve miles, nearly parallel. Across the neck of the peninsula thus formed between Gravesend and Rochester, a canal has been constructed, for the purpose of avoiding the circuitous navigation, which vessels and hoys trading in the Medway had formerly to make in their passage to London. The saving in distance thus effected, is fully thirty miles, as the

breadth of the peninsula along the line of the canal is only seven miles, whilst it is nearly forty miles between the respective places in sailing round by the Nore; and all delay from easterly winds is thus also avoided.

The canal, (which is twenty-eight feet wide at the bottom, fifty feet at the top, and has seven feet water,) commences on the southern bank of the Thames, in the parish of Milton; and for more than four miles crosses a dead level, chiefly marsh-land. It then meets with a hill or rib of chalk, which intervenes between this place and the Medway. Through this elevation the tunnel is perforated. Our engraving furnishes a vivid idea of the effect of this subterranean canal. Its entire length exceeds two miles and a quarter, but so true is the line, that the light, at either extremity, is clearly visible when viewed near the opposite end. The width of the excavation is about thirty feet, of which twenty-four feet is appropriated for the canal, whilst the remainder of the space is reserved for a towing-path, which is protected by a stout rail of oak, bolted to supports of cast iron, which are let into stone bearers, embedded in the solid chalk.

It has not been found necessary to construct an archway of brickwork, except at intervals, during the line; so great is the solidity of the material through which it is carried. The crown of the arched roof rises more than fifteen feet above the level of the towing-path: the sections of the tunnel are of different curvatures, part being parabolic, and part circular, the crown of the arches all coinciding. It is to the reflection of the light from the chalk roof, that we must in a great measure attribute the absence of the almost total darkness, which might be expected to exist in some parts of the tunnel. So far is this from being the case, that about the middle of the excavation, there is sufficient light at noon, to decipher print of a large size. Had the tunnel been arched with brick throughout, however, the absorption of the light would have been so considerable, as to have rendered it necessary to introduce some artificial light; which is evidenced by respectively observing the appearance of the chalk and brick surfaces.

The sensations produced on the mind of a stranger, in exploring this vast and dusky passage, are powerful and impressive, and increase with each succeeding step, as the cheerful light of day is left behind: "the reflection of the chalk on the clear surface of the water," says an ingenious writer, "(more distinctly visible as you approach either end,) apparently doubling the magnitude; and the entire absence of every sound but that of the slow and measured footsteps of the quadrupeds employed in towing the craft, stealing on the car at a distance, and becoming gradually louder and louder as it reverberates through the tunnel, combine to produce an emotion of sublimity, which enhances not a little the interest with which the work will be contemplated by the intelligent passenger."

In consequence of the canal not being sufficiently wide within the tunnel to permit two barges to pass different ways, they are only allowed to enter either extremity at stated times; an encounter cannot, therefore, possibly take place. The periods are so arranged, as to allow sufficient time for the passage of one line of barges one way, and that of another line in the opposite direction; and all barges arriving in the interval, are compelled to wait until the regulated period expires, so that it is necessary for the barges to be ready at the extremities at the precise time, or they are not permitted to pass until the next turn.

About three years since, a small steamer plied on

the canal with passengers, between Gravesend and Rochester, passing through the tunnel; the echo made by the noise of her machinery and paddles, was singular and powerful. The roof of the tunnel, except a portion near the Frindsbury or Medway end, is generally remarkably dry. This whole undertaking, from various causes, was more than twenty years in progress. The capital was raised in 4805 shares; the average cost per share, was 301. 48. 3d.; but, although an important public accommodation, it has proved an unfortunate undertaking for the original proprietors, the selling price of the shares being recently quoted at only 17.

During the hóp-season, the traffic on the canal is very considerable; the hop-growers of Kent being thus enabled to transport their hops to the London market from Maidstone, in twenty-four hours. The river Medway, which is rendered navigable as high as Tunbridge, proves of infinite utility to the county of Kent, as well as Sussex, on the borders of which it takes its rise. Its course is exceedingly circuitous throughout; the tide flows up as far as Maidstone, a distance from Sheerness, by water, of about thirtyseven miles. Adina Pimen

The immediate vicinity of the Thames and Medway Canal to Gravesend, is of some advantage to that town, as in consequence of its basin being just

without the limits of the port of London, the inhabitants have the advantage of obtaining their coals exempt from certain duties.

In the centre of the grove there stood an oak, which, though shapely and tall on the whole, bulged out into a large excrescence about the middle of the stem. On this a pair of ravens had fixed their residence for such a series Raven Tree. Many were the attempts of the neighbouring of years, that the oak was distinguished by the title of the youths to get at this eyry: the difficulty whetted their inclination, and each was ambitious of surmounting the arduous task. But when they arrived at the swelling, it jutted out so in their way, and was so far beyond their grasp, that the most daring lads were awed, and acknowledged the undertaking to be too hazardous. So the ravens built on, nest upon nest, in perfect security, till the fatal day arrived in which the wood was to be levelled. It was in the month of February, when those birds usually sit. The saw was applied to the butt, the wedges were inserted into the opening, the woods echoed to the heavy blows of the beetle, or mallet, the tree nodded to its fall; but still the dam sat on. At last, when it gave way, the bird was flung from her nest; and, though her parental affection deserved a better fate, was whipped down by the twigs, which brought her dead to the ground.—WHITE's Selborne.