After some months spent in preliminary examination of different parts of the Australian shores and seas, the Rattlesnake sailed from Sydney, at the end of April 1848, for the main object of her cruise. She had the Bramble, a small schooner, as tender, and was accompanied by the Tam o' Shanter, a vessel chartered for the conveyance of Mr Kennedy's expedition, which was to land at Rockingham Bay, 1200 miles to the northward, 'and explore the country to the eastward of the dividing range, running along the north-east coast of Australia, at a variable distance from the shore, and terminating at Cape York.' Having assisted in landing this party, and arranged to meet them at the head of Princess Charlotte's Bay, on their toilsome, and, as it proved, disastrous overland journey, the ships pursued their route, and soon commenced a series of triangulations, which were continued without a break for more than 600 miles. The Bramble waited ten days at the appointed rendezvous without seeing anything of the overland expedition, which, as it afterwards appeared, did not reach the same latitude until two months later, and then at a considerable distance from the coast.

In October, the vessels were at Cape York, waiting for Mr Kennedy, and receiving supplies from a storeship despatched from Sydney, and letters from the 'post-office' on Booby Island. In his capacity as naturalist and ethnologist, Mr Macgillivray made frequent excursions, collecting plants and animals, and words for a vocabulary. The natives are described as inordinately fond of smoking whenever they can get choka, as they call tobacco. 'The pipe—which is a piece of bamboo as thick as the arm, and two or three feet long—is first filled with tobacco-smoke, and then handed round the company, seated on the ground in a ring; each takes a long inhalation, and passes the pipe to his neighbour, slowly allowing the smoke to exhale. On several occasions at Cape York,' continues the author, 'I have seen a native so affected by a single inhalation, as to be rendered nearly senseless, with the perspiration bursting out at every pore, and require a draught of water to restore him; and although myself a smoker, yet, on the only occasion when I tried this mode of using tobacco, the sensations of nausea and faintness were produced.' There is something new in the idea of taking whiffs of ready-made smoke, which might perhaps be turned to account by enterprising purveyors of social enjoyments on this side of the world.

After the abortive attempt to establish the colony of 'North Australia' at Port Curtis, at a cost of L.15,000, and the abandonment of Port Essington, it is not uninteresting to learn that Cape York presents many natural capabilities for a settlement. There is a good harbour, safe anchorage, abundance of fresh water all the year round, and a moderate extent of cultivable land, all of which will help to constitute it a desirable coaling station for the contemplated line of steamers from Sydney to Singapore and India. The Port-Essington experiment was so complete a failure, that after trying for eleven years, the colonists were 'not even able to keep themselves in fresh vegetables.' Fortunately, but little encouragement was ever offered to permanent settlers, or the disappointments caused by an unproductive soil and unhealthy climate would have been greatly multiplied. A singular example of the lex talionis occurred among the natives at this place. One of them having been severely wounded in punishment for an offence, the penalty was considered too severe, and 'it was finally determined that, upon Munjerrijo's recovery, the two natives who had wounded him should offer their heads to him to be struck with a club—the usual way, it would appear, of settling such matters.'

Here we find, too, another of those instances of intelligence in a native, the more extraordinary when contrasted with the low mental condition of the aborigines in general. Sir Thomas Mitchell, and other Australian travellers, have spoken of their acutely-endowed guides in terms almost of affection; and Mr Macgillivray relates that, during his stay at Port Essington, a native named Neinmal became greatly attached to him. 'One day,' he continues, 'while detained by rainy weather at my camp, I was busy in skinning a fish; Neinmal watched me attentively for some time, and then withdrew, but returned in half an hour afterwards with the skin of another fish in his hand, prepared by himself, and so well done, too, that it was added to the collection. He went with us to Singapore, Java, and Sydney, and, from his great good-humour, became a favourite with all on board—picking up the English language with facility, and readily conforming himself to our customs and the discipline of the ship. He was very cleanly in his personal habits, and paid much attention to his dress, which was always kept neat and tidy. I was often much amused and surprised by the oddity and justness of his remarks upon the many strange sights which a voyage of this kind brought before him.' The Nemesis steamer underweigh puzzled him at first; he then thought it was 'all same big cart, only got him shingles (wooden roofing-tiles, so called) on wheels!' Neinmal spoke of his countrymen as 'big fools,' and held white men in such estimation, that he volunteered for a voyage to England; but having been prevented, returned to Port Essington, where he learned to read and write. His superiority rendered him obnoxious to the older members of his family; and one day, while on a visit to his tribe, 'he was roused from sleep to find himself surrounded by a host of savages thirsting for his blood. They told him to rise, but he merely raised himself upon his elbow, and said: "If you want to kill me, do so where I am; I won't get up. Give me a spear and club, and I'll fight you all one by one!" He had scarcely spoken, when he was speared from behind; spear after spear followed, and as he lay writhing on the ground, his savage murderers literally dashed him to pieces with their clubs.'

In June 1849, the Rattlesnake and Bramble were at work in the Louisiade Archipelago, finding out the safest channels and anchorages among its numerous rocks, shoals, and reefs. The natives of some of the islands had never seen Europeans before, yet seemed little inclined to acknowledge the superiority of their visitors. They manifested but little alarm on witnessing the effects of firearms; and on one occasion attacked two of the ship's boats with a courage and self-reliance extraordinary under the circumstances. In general characteristics, they resemble the Torres Strait islanders: some of them friz their hair up into a mop two feet in diameter, wear a comb nearly a yard long, and bunches of dogs' teeth hanging behind, by way of ornament, and take no little pride in adorning their persons with paint and tattoo-marks, and flowers and plants of strong odour. Bracelets of various kinds are a favourite decoration, and among these the most curious 'is that made of a human lower jaw, with one or more collar-bones closing the upper side, crossing from one angle to the other. Whether these are the jaws of former friends or enemies,' says Mr Macgillivray, 'we had no means of ascertaining; no great value appeared to be attached to them; and it was observed, as a curious circumstance, that none of these jaws had the teeth discoloured by the practice of betel-chewing.'

A supply of yams being wanted, the cutter was sent one day at the beginning of July to open a trade, if possible, with the natives of Brierly Island, on which occasion 'Mr Brady took charge of the bartering, and drawing a number of lines upon the sandy beach, explained that when each was covered with a yam, he would give an axe in return. At first, some little difficulty occurred, as the yams were brought down very slowly—two or three at a time; but at length the first batch was completed, and the axe handed over. The man who got it had been trembling with anxiety for some time back, holding Mr Brady by the arm, and watching the promised axe with eager eye. When he obtained possession of it, he became quite wild with joy, laughing and screaming, and flourishing the axe over his head. After this commencement, the bartering went on briskly, amidst a great deal of uproar—the men passing between the village and the beach at full speed, with basketfuls of yams, and too intent on getting the kiram kelumai (iron axes) to think of anything else.' In this way, 368 pounds of yams were collected, at a cost of about a half-penny per pound.

Among contrivances for procuring food, the natives of some of the islands train the sucking-fish (Echeneis remora) for the chase in the water, as dogs are trained to hunt on land. A line is made fast to the creature's tail; it is then started in pursuit of prey, and as soon as it has attached itself to a turtle, or any other 'game,' the line is hauled in, and the prize secured. While the Rattlesnake lay at anchor, a number of sucking-fishes took up their quarters under her bottom, and whenever the sailors dropped a bait overboard, it was always seized by one of the remorae, greatly to the annoyance of the anglers on deck. 'Being quite a nuisance,' writes Mr Macgillivray, 'and useless as food, Jack often treated them as he would a shark, by "spritsail-yarding," or some still less refined mode of torture. One day, some of us, while walking the poop, had our attention directed to a sucking-fish, about two and a half feet in length, which had been made fast by the tail to a billet of wood, by a fathom or so of spun-yarn, and turned adrift. An immense striped shark, apparently about fourteen feet in length, which had been cruising about the ship all the morning, sailed slowly up, and turning slightly on one side, attempted to seize the seemingly helpless fish; but the sucker, with great dexterity, made himself fast in a moment to the shark's back. Off darted the monster at full speed—the sucker holding on as fast as a limpet to a rock, and the billet towing astern. He then rolled over and over, tumbling about, when, wearied with his efforts, he lay quiet for a little. Seeing the float, the shark got it into his mouth, and disengaging the sucker by a tug on the line, made a bolt at the fish; but his puny antagonist was again too quick, and fixing himself close behind the dorsal fin, defied the efforts of the shark to disengage him, although he rolled over and over, lashing the water with his tail until it foamed all round.' After such a spirited combat, it is somewhat tantalising to read, that the final result could not clearly be made out; it is scarcely possible, however, not to wish success to the remora.

On the 18th August, a party landed on the coast of New Guinea, and paid a friendly visit to some of the Papuans who had been off to the ship, and found them less fierce and distrustful than those of the islands. Some of them thought the muskets were water-vessels, and others were afraid of a knife: it was too sharp. They are excellent mimics; and one of them imitated the English drummer so cleverly on an old tin-can, as to excite roars of laughter among all who witnessed the performance. Some of their dances are extraordinary, more resembling a fencing-match than movements of the light fantastic toe; and the following description of a dance after nightfall is curious:—'On seeing a number of lights along the beach, we at first thought they proceeded from a fishing-party, but on looking through a night-glass, the group was seen to consist of above a dozen people, each carrying a blazing torch, and going through the movements of a dance. At one time, they extended rapidly into line; at another, closed, dividing into two parties, advancing and retreating, crossing and recrossing, and mixing up with each other. This continued for half an hour; and having apparently been got up for our amusement, a rocket was sent up for theirs, and a blue-light burned; but the dancing had ceased, and the lights disappeared.'

On the 1st October, the Rattlesnake was again at Cape York. About the middle of the month, an incident occurred which relieved the dulness of a period of inactivity—the discovery and rescue of a white woman, who had been for some time a prisoner among the natives. We shall abridge Mr Macgillivray's narrative of her story. Her name is Barbara Thomson; she was born at Aberdeen, and emigrated to New South Wales with her parents. About four and a half years prior to the event, she had accompanied her husband in a small cutter, to try to save some part of the cargo of a whaler that had been wrecked on the Bampton shoal. The pilot missed his route, two of the crew were drowned by accident, another was left on a desert island, and at last the little vessel, caught by a gale in Torres Strait, struck upon a reef on Prince of Wales Island. The only two men left on board were drowned in attempting to swim to shore; but the woman was saved by a party of natives, one of whom, Boroto by name, forced her to live with him as his wife, in which position she for a time was exposed to much cruelty, owing to the jealousy of the women of the tribe. She eventually was saved from persecution by a singular belief prevalent among the natives—that white people are the ghosts of departed aborigines—one of the principal among the blacks having persuaded himself that he had found in her his long-lost daughter, after whom Barbara was named Giom. The head-quarters of the tribe were on an island, and the captive frequently saw vessels pass on their way to Torres Strait, but without any opportunity of making her case known. She had heard of the first arrival of the Rattlesnake and tender at Cape York; and on the last visit, had induced the blacks to escort her to within a short distance of the anchorage, they believing that she only wished to shake hands with her countrymen, and would soon return, laden with knives, axes, and tobacco. Although lame, she hurried on, fearing that her conductors might change their mind, and made towards some of the ship's company, who were on shore shooting. Except a fringe of leaves, she was quite naked, and her appearance was so dirty and miserable, that they took her for a gin, or native woman, and paid no attention to her, when she called out: 'I am a white woman; why do you leave me?' She was immediately taken on board the ship, and but just in time to escape from a small party of the tribe, who had followed to detain her.

Mr Macgillivray continues: 'Upon being asked by Captain Stanley, whether she really preferred remaining with us to accompanying the natives back to their island, as she would be allowed her free choice in the matter, she was so much agitated as to find difficulty in expressing her thankfulness, making use of scraps of English alternately with the Kowrarega language, and then, suddenly awakening to the recollection that she was not understood, the poor creature blushed all over, and with downcast eyes beat her forehead with her hand, as if to assist in collecting her scattered thoughts. At length, after a pause, she found words to say: "Sir, I am a Christian, and would rather go back to my own friends." At the same tune, it was remarked by every one that she had not lost the feelings of womanly modesty; even after having lived so long among naked blacks, she seemed acutely to feel the singularity of her position, dressed only in a couple of shirts, in the midst of a crowd of her own countrymen.'

In accordance with her wish, Mrs Thomson was kept on board, and had a cabin given up to her own use; good living and medical attendance soon cured the soreness of her tanned and blistered skin, and the ophthalmia, which had deprived her of the sight of one eye. The black Boroto grew desperate when he found that she would not return to him, and threatened to cut off her head to satisfy his vengeance—a catastrophe which the rescued woman avoided by not going on shore; and she was eventually handed over, in good condition, to her parents on the return of the vessel to Sydney, at the beginning of 1850.

Shortly afterwards, to the great sorrow of all on board, Captain Stanley died, at the early age of thirty-eight. He had brought his scientific labours to a successful close, and might have looked forward to a brief period of honourable repose; but the fatigue and anxiety of a laborious survey in a hot climate, and the news of the decease of his father, the late Bishop of Norwich, depressed him beyond the power of recovery. This was not the only melancholy incident connected with the Rattlesnake's voyage. Mr Kennedy's expedition had proved a most disastrous failure. The party, as we have seen, had landed in Rockingham Bay, and commenced their journey northwards, with a well-appointed caravan of carts, horses, and men, all in high spirits. But more than a month elapsed before they could extricate themselves from the swamps and scrub which cover that part of the country; and at the beginning of November, five months later, they had not advanced more than 400 miles in a direct line: nineteen of the horses were dead, and the stock of provisions nearly exhausted. Mr Kennedy then determined on pushing forwards, with a light party, for Cape York, 150 miles distant, whence relief was to be sent to the eight individuals who were left behind, nearly worn out with fatigue and exhaustion. This party consisted of the leader; Jackey Jackey, a faithful and intelligent native; and three of the strongest of the men. One of the latter accidentally shot himself, and the other two became so weak, that they also were left at an encampment, with as large a supply of provisions as could be spared. After incredible hardships, Mr Kennedy and his companion reached Escape River, twenty miles from Cape York, where they were attacked by a party of natives, while entangled in a scrub, and the gallant leader of the expedition fell a victim to their ferocity. Three spears had entered his body, and Jackey Jackey, in simple but touching words, describes his last moments. 'Mr Kennedy,' he asked, after having carried the wounded man out of sight of the natives, 'are you going to leave me?' 'Yes, my boy, I am going to leave you,' was the reply of the dying man. 'I am very bad, Jackey. You take the books, Jackey, to the captain; but not the big ones: the governor will give anything for them.' 'I then tied up the papers. He then said: "Jackey, give me paper, and I will write." I gave him paper and pencil, and he tried to write; and he then fell back and died, and I caught him as he fell back, and held him, and I then turned round myself, and cried. I was crying a good while, until I got well; that was about an hour, and then I buried him, I dug up the ground with a tomahawk, and covered him over with logs, then grass, and my shirt and trousers. That night I left him, near dark.'

Jackey contrived to evade the pursuers, and a week afterwards got on board the schooner, which was lying in Port Albany, Cape York, waiting the arrival of Mr Kennedy's expedition. On learning the fatal result, the captain sailed, in the hope of saving the men who had been left behind. Of the two who had belonged to the advanced party, nothing was discovered except some articles of clothing, and it was believed they had perished. Of the eight first left near Weymouth Bay, two were still alive, but in the last stage of exhaustion, having endured privations and hardships almost without a parallel.

The brig Freak was subsequently despatched from Sydney, for the purpose of securing any papers or documents, or the mortal remains of any of the unfortunate expedition. Jackey Jackey was on board, and by means of his remarkable sagacity, led the way to the respective camps. The bones of two of the men were found; also some of Mr Kennedy's instruments, portions of his clothing, and his manuscript journal, which had been hidden in the hollow of a tree; but after a minute search for the place where his body had been buried, it could not be discovered.

We might extend this painful narrative did our space permit; but we must now close, with a recommendation of the book under notice to those who are interested in the progress of natural or geographical discovery.

FOOTNOTES:

[3] Narrative of the Voyage of H.M.S. Rattlesnake, commanded by the late Captain Owen Stanley, during the years 1846-50, including Discoveries and Surveys in New Guinea, the Louisiade Archipelago, &c. &c. By John Macgillivray, F.R.G.S., Naturalist to the Expedition. London: Boone. 2 vols. 8vo.



A CELEBRATED FRENCH CLOCKMAKER.

The superiority of French clocks and watches has been achieved only by the laborious efforts of many ingenious artisans. Of one of these, to whom France owes no little of its celebrity in this branch of art, we propose to speak. Breguet was the name of this remarkable individual. He was a native of Neuchatel, in Switzerland, and thence he was removed, while young, to Versailles, for the purpose of learning his business as a horologist. His parents being poor, he found it necessary to rely on his own energy for advancement in life.

At Versailles, he served a regular apprenticeship, during which his diligence in improving himself was almost beyond example. He became greatly attached to his profession; and soon, by studious perseverance, his talents were developed by real knowledge. At length the term of apprenticeship expired, and as the master was expressing to the pupil the satisfaction which his good conduct and diligence had given him, he was struck with astonishment when he replied: 'Master, I have a favour to ask of you. I feel that I have not always as I ought employed my time, which was to have indemnified you for the cares and lessons you have spent on me. I beg of you, then, to permit me to continue with you three months longer without salary.' This request confirmed the attachment of the master to his pupil. But scarcely was the apprenticeship of the latter over, when he lost his mother and his stepfather, and found himself alone in the world with an elder sister—being thus left to provide, by his own industry, for the maintenance of two persons. Nevertheless, he ardently desired to complete his necessary studies, for he felt that the knowledge of mathematics was absolutely indispensable to his attaining perfection in his art. This determined purpose conquered every obstacle. Not only did he labour perseveringly for his sister and himself, but also found means to attend regularly a course of public lectures which the Abbe Marie was then giving at the College Mazarin. The professor, having remarked the unwearied assiduity of the young clockmaker, made a friend of him, and delighted in considering him as his beloved pupil. This friendship, founded on the truest esteem and the most affectionate gratitude, contributed wondrously to the progress of the student.

The great metamorphosis which was effected so suddenly in the young clockmaker was very remarkable. There is something very encouraging in his example, affording as it does a proof of the power of the man who arms himself with a determined purpose. At first, the struggle with difficulties appears hard, painful, almost impossible; but only let there be a little perseverance, the obstacles vanish one after the other, the way is made plain: instead of the thorns which seem to choke it, verdant laurels suddenly spring up, the reward of constant and unwearied labour. Thus it was with our studious apprentice. His ideas soon expand; his work acquires more precision; a new and a more extended horizon opens before him. From a skilful workman, it is not long before he becomes an accomplished artist. Yet a few years, and the name of Breguet is celebrated.

At the epoch of the first troubles of the Revolution of 1789, Breguet had already founded the establishment which has since produced so many master-pieces of mechanism. The most honourable, the most flattering reputation was his. One anecdote will serve to prove the high repute in which he was held, even out of France. One day a watch, to the construction of which he had given his whole attention, happened to fall into the hands of Arnold, the celebrated English watchmaker. He examined it with interest, and surveyed with admiration the simplicity of its mechanism, the perfection of the workmanship. He could scarcely be persuaded that a specimen thus executed could be the work of French industry. Yielding to the love of his art, he immediately set out for Paris, without any other object than simply to become acquainted with the French artist. On arriving in Paris, he went immediately to see Breguet, and soon these two men were acquainted with each other. They seem, indeed, to have formed a mutual friendship. In order that Breguet might give Arnold the highest token of his esteem and affection, he requested him to take his son with him to be taught his profession, and this was acceded to.

The Revolution destroyed the first establishment of Breguet, and finally forced the great artist to seek an asylum on a foreign shore. There generous assistance enabled him, with his son, to continue his ingenious experiments in his art. At length, having returned to Paris after two years' absence, he opened a new establishment, which continued to flourish till 1823, when France lost this man, the pride and boast of its industrial class. Breguet was member of the Institute, was clockmaker to the navy, and member of the Bureau of Longitude. He was indeed the most celebrated clockmaker of the age; he had brought to perfection every branch of his art. Nothing could surpass the delicacy and ingenuity of his free escapement with a maintaining power. To him we owe another escapement called 'natural,' in which there is no spring, and oil is not needed; but another, and still more perfect one, is the double escapement, where the precision of the contacts renders the use of oil equally unnecessary, and in which the waste of power in the pendulum is repaired at each vibration.

The sea-watches or chronometers of Breguet are famous throughout the world. It is well known that these watches are every moment subject to change of position, from the rolling and pitching of the vessel. Breguet conceived the bold thought of enclosing the whole mechanism of the escapement and the spring in a circular envelope, making a complete revolution every two minutes. The inequality of position is thus, as it were, equalised on that short lapse of time; the mechanism itself producing compensation, whether the chronometer is subjected to any continuous movement, or kept steady in an inclined or upright position. Breguet did still more: he found means to preserve the regularity of his chronometers even in case of their getting any sudden shock or fall, and this he did by the parachute. Sir Thomas Brisbane put one of them to the proof, carrying it about with him on horseback, and on long journeys and voyages; in sixteen months, the greatest daily loss was only a second and a half—that is, the 57,600th part of a daily revolution.

Such is the encouraging example of Breguet, who was at first only a workman. And to this he owes his being the best judge of good workmen, as he was the best friend to them. He sought out such everywhere, even in other countries; gave them the instruction of a master of the art; and treated them with the kindness of a father. They were indebted to him for their prosperity, and he owed to them the increase of fortune and of fame. He well understood the advantages of a judicious division of labour, according to the several capabilities of artisans. By this means, he was able to meet the demand for pieces of his workmanship, not less remarkable for elegance and beauty than for extreme accuracy. It may indeed be said, that Breguet's efforts gave a character to French horology that it has never lost. So much may one man do in his day and generation to give an impetus to an important branch of national industry.



SAINT ELIZABETH OF BOHEMIA.

'Would that we two were lying Beneath the church-yard sod, With our limbs at rest in the green earth's breast, And our souls at home with God!'[4]

I never lay me down to sleep at night But in my heart I sing that little song: The angels hear it, as, a pitying throng, They touch my burning lids with fingers bright, Like moonbeams—pale, impalpable, and light. And when my daily pious tasks are done, And all my patient prayers said one by one, God hears it. Seems it sinful in His sight That round my slow burnt-offering of quenched will, One quivering human sigh creeps windlike still? That when my orisons in silence fail, Lingers one tremulous note of human wail? Dear lord—spouse—hero—martyr—saint! erelong I think God will forgive my singing that poor song.

A year ago, I bade my little son Bear on a pilgrimage a sacred load Of alms; he cried out, fainting on the road, 'Mother, O mother, would that this were done!' Him I reproved with tears, and said: 'Go on, Nor feebly sink ere half thy task be o'er.' Would not God say to me the same, and more? I will not sing that song. Thou, dearest one, Husband—no, brother—stretch thy steadfast hand Across the void! Mine grasps it. Now I stand, My woman-weakness nerved to strength divine. We'll quaff life's aloe-cup as though 'twere wine, Each to the other; journeying on apart, Till at heaven's golden doors we two leap heart to heart.

FOOTNOTES:

[4] From Kingsley's Saint's Tragedy. Elizabeth, Princess of Bohemia, the most sincere among the mistaken devotee saints of the middle ages, renounced her royal state, her husband and children, and spent her life in the sternest asceticism, and in the most self-denying acts of charity.



A MAN-OF-WAR, OR A MAN OF PEACE.

It will probably be remembered that, a few years ago, a great excitement was caused by the discovery of vast deposits of guano upon the island of Ichaboe, situated on the west coast of Africa. The remarkable fertilising qualities of guano gave it great value as an article of commerce, and a large number of vessels were despatched from various ports to take in cargoes at the island. It was computed that at one time not less than 500 vessels were lying off Ichaboe, and as there was no settled authority to regulate the trade of the place, a scene of indescribable confusion and tumult soon presented itself. The crews of several of the ships having established themselves upon the table-land at the top of the island (the island being little more than a huge rock, rising with almost perpendicular cliffs from the ocean), a dispute arose between them and their captains, which soon proceeded to open mutiny on the part of the men. The only access to their position being by long ladders, the men set their masters at defiance, and held possession of their stronghold, which was inaccessible, except by permission of the mutineers. The captains despatched a vessel to the Cape of Good Hope, for the purpose of laying a complaint before the governor, and soliciting his aid. The governor was about to despatch a man-of-war—the only remedy that is generally thought of in such cases—when a good, devoted man, a missionary at Cape Town, named Bertram, hearing of the affair, represented to the governor his earnest desire to spare the effusion of blood, and his conviction that, if he were allowed to proceed to the island, he could bring the quarrel to an amicable settlement. Mr Bertram obtained the consent of the authorities, and the order for the sailing of the man-of-war was suspended. He proceeded to Ichaboe, and being rowed ashore, began to ascend one of the lofty ladders. Two seamen, well armed, who had guard above, shouted to know who he was and what he wanted. 'A friend, who wants to speak to you,' was the reply. The guards seeing a single man, unarmed, climbing fearlessly towards them, permitted him to ascend. He called the men round him, spoke kindly but faithfully to them, heard their complaints, and undertook to negotiate for them. He did this with so much tact and judgment, that a reconciliation was soon effected, and harmony restored between the captains and their crews. Mr Bertram remained ten days with the men on the summit of the island, employing the time to the best advantage in preaching and teaching amongst them. It was only on the plea of urgent duty that the men would permit him to leave them. They clustered round him, as he was about to descend from amongst them for the last time; each was eager to wring him by the hand, and tears rolled down many a weather-beaten cheek as he bade them a last adieu. 'God bless you, sir!' they exclaimed; 'you have been our true friend; would that you could stay amongst us, for we feel that you have done us good.' It will be well for nations when they have more faith in the power of a man of peace, and less in that of a man-of-war.—Bond of Brotherhood.



NOTE TO INTENDING EMIGRANTS.

In reply to numerous correspondents who make inquiry respecting the most suitable fields for emigration, we have again to intimate, that we cannot assume the responsibility of privately advising individuals on the important step of emigrating to one place in preference to another. Every one is best acquainted with his own desires, abilities, and necessities, and should, with the general assistance of public opinion and the press, be able to make up his mind whether he should or should not emigrate, or what distant land will be to him most answerable and agreeable. With the view of doing all in our power to assist in forming this resolution, we have lately had prepared, under our own inspection, a series of cheap and accessible Manuals on the subject of Emigration; containing, we believe, all desirable information for those who are disposed to emigrate; and a perusal of which may possibly obviate the necessity of seeking private counsel on any point. The Manuals may be had from any of the ordinary agents for supplying this Journal; they separately refer to AUSTRALIA, AMERICA, NEW ZEALAND, the CAPE, and PORT NATAL; and in addition, there is one devoted to general considerations and directions. The whole, however, may be obtained bound in a single volume.

Price 4s. 6d. Cloth, Lettered,

THE EMIGRANT'S MANUAL.

A complete MANUAL for EMIGRANTS, embracing the latest and most trustworthy information, in One Volume. It may also be had in Parts, each referring to a distinct FIELD OF EMIGRATION.

AUSTRALIA, 1s.—NEW ZEALAND, CAPE of GOOD HOPE, &c. 1s.—BRITISH AMERICA, and UNITED STATES of AMERICA, 1s.—EMIGRATION in its PRACTICAL APPLICATION to INDIVIDUALS and COMMUNITIES, 1s.

* * * * *

Printed and Published by W. and R. CHAMBERS, High Street, Edinburgh. Also sold by W.S. ORR, Amen Corner, London; D. N. CHAMBERS, 55 West Nile Street, Glasgow; and J. M'GLASHAN, 50 Upper Sackville Street, Dublin.—Advertisements for Monthly Parts are requested to be sent to MAXWELL & CO., 31 Nicholas Lane, Lombard Street, London, to whom all applications respecting their insertion must be made.

THE END