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advertise themselves on railway stations and in the newspapers, and Hayling is justly described as very retired.'

Once I went to see two islands on the Glamorganshire coast, Sully and Barry. I did not care anything for Sully. It is not much better than that unfortunate rock off the Lizard. It belongs to one of the iron kings, Ivor-Guest, who, I think, might have made more of it and of the adjoining mansion-house. I was thoroughly delighted with Barry Island. It is about a dozen miles from a railway station, which, to my mind, is in itself a recommendation. I do not know whether it can be reached at low-water. When I visited it the tide was running with great violence, and there were waves which would do credit to the Bay of Biscay. There are times of the year in which the few inhabitants cannot cross over for church weeks and weeks together. The island makes a compact farm, and there is obviously no need of hedges. The farmer keeps a little inn as well, where he dispenses homely and comfortable fare. Sometimes in the summer, but very rarely, steamboats come and land quite a population on the little island. We had steaks cut from the conger-eel, not at all so bad. These conger-eels have been known to break a sailor's leg. I know of a man who bought a swan at Leadenhall Market, and took it home in a cab, and the swan with a flap of its wing broke his arm. You would require to provision yourself well for the winter in a little island like this—strong doors and windows and walls tightly built. The situation would have its charms for some; you would be independent and solitary to any extent.

Midway between the south coast of Wales and the north coast of Devon and Cornwall lies the island of Lundy, at times hanging cloudlike over the sea, at times clearly visible enough, at times shrouded with the summer mists. The island is a landmark for summer tourists on either side of the Bristol Channel, but there are only few who venture upon a visit. There is a legend of a party of clergymen—five or six incumbents on the mainland of Devon, to which county the island belongs—who ventured out on a summer day, and were kept prisoners for several weeks. The island rises abruptly to a sheer height, with deep water all around; at times there are hundreds of vessels lying on the lee-side for protection from the western gales. The wild sea-birds crowd on the rocks, and formerly the gannets, now decreasing, formed the principal revenue of the island, and there are layers of guano which remind us of the Peruvian coast. Numberless vessels have been wrecked upon this island, and once or twice naked shipwrecked sailors have walked into the house of the proprietor, the wreck having been unobserved amid the mist and violence of the storm. This storm-set rocky islet—for it is little more—in troublous' times has been a very nest of piracy and rebellion. The people say that at different times the Turks, the French, the Spanish, and the Dutch have taken temporary possession of the island, pillaged it, and gone away. It is difficult, or rather impossible, to verify these traditions. The story, for instance, is found in all the guide-books, that the crew of a vessel, pretending to be Dutch, asked leave to inter a corpse in Christian ground; and then, when the burial party had obtained possession of the church, they threw off their disguise, showed themselves to be armed Frenchmen, made prisoners, and ravaged the island. Now, it is somewhat remarkable that what the English say of the French at Lundy, the French say of the English at Sark, and pretty well give the same date. In the time of Queen Anne the French did for a while hold Lundy, and made it a privateering station. In these days of far-reaching ordnance the possession of Lundy would pretty well command the Bristol Channel. It holds the gates of the Severn Sea.'

At the present time there is a battery of two eighteenpounders, which are fired every ten minutes in foggy weather; and above is the lighthouse, the most prominent object in the island. The ports of the Bristol Channel have petitioned the PostmasterGeneral that a telegraphic communication may be established with Lundy. The merchants say that about a million of vessels pass the island in a year,

and might all have been reported if there had been telegraphic communication. Very little information about Lundy is to be found in local histories, but since our public records have been made available, a great deal has been found out about the islet. From the ruined castle, decayed fish ponds, and other indications, it seems that the island was once a much more important place than at present. One lord of it who

. is chiefly mentioned, William de Marisco, having been taken prisoner after a long course of rapine, was hung, drawn, and quartered, and his island forfeited to the king It has since passed through many hands, and was last purchased by Mr. W. Heaven, in 1840, for 9400 guineas, who has been an admirable settled proprietor, while the Rev. J. G. Heaven has industriously studied the flora and the fauna of the island.

There are other English islands which would well deserve discussion. A gentleman has left an immense

. sum to found a bishopric for Northumberland, and it is proposed that the name of the See should be derived from Lindisfarne or the Holy Island. The old diocese included a large part of Scotland as well as the northeast of England. The Manxmen have been astonished by the visitors who have come to the Isle of Man. From the mountain peaks of England and Wales it is discerned by visitors, and a constant object to those who traverse the narrow seas. Then we have islands which are only islands by courtesy, as Sheppy, cut off

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by the swale, and the Isle of Achil, only separated by a a narrow channel from County Mayo. The south isles of Arran form an especially remarkable group, as they contain many interesting remains of forts, churches, and primitive inhabitants of Ireland.

When we come to Scotland we are simply overwhelmed by the variety of topics suggested by the grand multiplicity of islands. But it is very pleasant to read about them, and we would suggest to enterprising yachtsmen that they might do worse than cruise about the ancient Cassiterides, and what we may call the Cyclades and Sporades of our own western and northern waters.

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