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though it may be better than her own, never looks so well, and pretty surely mars her beauty. Would not Hafod be better of another colour? Its lightness ill accords with the wild majesty of the mountain dominion in the centre of which it is placed. It was very singular at such a season of the year to see so brown a hue. The oaks had been frost-bitten, and the leaves crumbled into dust under the handit had the strange effect of blending summer and autumn in one landscape. Is the mixture of the Scotch fir with oaks and other forest trees in good taste? Even the firs in such cases seem to lose their natural character, and look too spruce. High-rising trees should not be placed among lower and spreading-they hurt each other making one too low, and the other too high. Scotch firs are not to be despised; they make grand dark-shading woods-they have a gigantic person ality about them, when grown to any size, and proudly centinel a domain. Their gloom is awful; and when the sun is behind them, and just gleams partially through them, the effect is magical; and how wonderfully, by their depth of colour, they throw off the azures, and set off the warmer tints of nearer distances!
We have left Hafod; and all on our way to Aberystwith, ranges and ranges of mountain again and again present themselves—all fine. Within sight of Aberystwith, they gradually lower on all sides, and at their bases lies in rich beauty an extensive valley, through which the river winds, and loses itself-or at least it did to our view-in an ultramarine, yet warm, haze, that flooded with azure light the whole vale. The first burst of this view, with the great arms of the mountain stretching down into the depth before us, would make a very fine subject for a picture, and would well suit Copley Fielding's water-colours. Why do they do their utmost to make all sea-bathing places look as hot as possible? Facing the unmitigated sun we have houses, and a whole range of them, as hot as yellow ochre can make them. Seek for shelter inside, and you have little shade-the sun still persecutes you there-curtains and carpet are sure to be red-you fly from the yellow to the scarlet fever. Aberystwith seems a poor place, excepting where the company-the gentry lodging-houses are built. We
were surprised to see an odd, fantasticlooking semi-castle building, erected by, above all persons in the world, the late Sir Uvedale Price! How very strange!" Aliquando bonus dormitat."
Hour about five o'clock-looking on the sea. Never saw we any thing more lovely-never any colouring of nature that more convinced us of the truth of Claude's Embarkation of St Ursula, and his other marine subjects. Nearly the whole of the sea, to the horizon, lighter than the skyand yet that is not dark, but all luminous-the whole expanse of water of a warm grey, changing occasionally into the most tender green. The sun, which is yet high up, flashes about the edged clouds, and down below them, a purple grey, tipped with brightest gold. Now, there are more distant clouds immediately under the others, half obscured in haze, edges brilliant. They must be thunder clouds-the most azure blue, if we might call it by the name of one colour, is above. Immediately below the sun's pavilion the blue is lost in a thicker atmosphere, almost of a greenish hue, and that melts off into a warm luminous grey, in which the red is very discernible, and from the suncloud, as from a centre, broad bands of shadow spread abroad, reaching the water to its utmost verge. The sea, without a wave,-but a gentle ripple plays about the shore, here edged with, and throwing off, drops of the purest gold. Starting distinct from the grey, there is a mass of the sun's light upon the very centre of the sea, but it is interrupted by a grey streak, and does not quite reach the shore-a rocky ledge or two seems to run out, as it were, to meet and salute it, and that alone is dark. Behind us lay the large and shattered fragments of the old castle, the ruins of which, particularly the tall upright tower, are still fine. Aberystwith did not seem to have much company. These sort of places are all alike-a semicircular range of yellow or white lodginghouses, facing the sea-white painted bathing-machines on the beachloungers about the seats, smoking cigars-and ladies, by twos and threes, in green veils, poking among the pebbles with the ends of their parasols. Our piscator friend was very busy making enquiry respecting some fish said to be caught and catchable here with the rod and line. To him it
seemed a wonderful thing-to us, who had never hooked but one fish, and that in the side, it did not sound wonderful at all, remembering more of Homer than of Isaac Walton.
We did not remain at Aberystwith. On our return to the mountains we went to a very neat newly-built church, the exterior of which reminded us of Italy. The service was in Welsh, the sermon in English; the Welsh we thought must be a powerful language; we imagined it to be in sound between Greek and German. The demeanour and devotion of the congregation was very gratifying, and the extreme neatness and cleanness of their A retired tradesman from persons. Aberystwith, with great civility, offered us seats; and, when the service was over, conversed with us with great natural politeness and simplicity. He told us his condition, showed us his garden, and offered the use of his stable should we at any time revisit the place for the sake of fishing. The manners of the Welsh in these parts is very pleasing, and their intelligent way of speaking very much above that of the generality in England. They are unaffected, simple, and single-minded people, and are not contaminated by that bane to morality, the beershop. They are the very reverse of "the vulgar." The sermon, which was in English, was very good; and, had the preacher paid more attention to stops, would have been more effective. He read it as if English had been an acquired language.
Welsh seemed to flow naturally, gracefully, and powerfully. The following day our friend hoped to have some fishing at Rhayader, as there had been rain; and, as we had closed our portfolios, we gave ourselves up to his amusement if we might be found worthy to carry his basket. It would not do. The fish were not to be caught. We saw some fine otter hounds; coarse, wiry, strong animals, that would bear as well as give a bite and a tug under or above water. Our friend was eloquent upon the subject, and described many an otter hunt, and made the description more interesting by his calculation of the mischief these amphibious creatures do, "A
single otter," said he, "will consume a ton of fish in a year;" and, while speaking, he referred to a paper in his fishing-book. We observed one side of it denoted rhyme. "Ah," said he, when questioned, "for nearly forty years have I had many a fishing day with old Will Hill of Millslade, and being at the lonely but comfortable little inn there the other day, my old haunt, I thought over the days past; and I suppose a thankful heart, and no one to tell it out to, makes a happy man a rhymster, if not a happy rhymster, and so I made my trial. Here it is. I am as proud of dedicating my verse to poor old Will Hill, as Pindar his to Hiero. So here goes :—
TO MY OLD FISHING COMPANION, WILL
Old Will with thee,
The winter drear
Yet still a dish
That Nature wild imparts.
This boon we anglers crave,
Safe to a peaceful grave.
"Come, then," continued he, "let us to the inn," and as if to apologise for his verse
"Dulce est de-sipere in loco."
So let us, like true artist and piscator, sip our souchong, and be wise enough to play the fool after our innocent fashion.
Finis chartaque viæque.
COLONIAL GOVERNMENT AND THE JAMAICA QUESTION.
THE unhappy contest which has now arisen between the local legislature of Jamaica and the mother country, has recently attracted a large portion of public attention, both in consequence of it having been the cheval de bataille on which the two parties which divide the state have come to a decisive conflict, and from its involving within itself the great question of the government of our colonial dependencies by the reformed legislature. The powerful excitement of the first of these circumstances, was that which in the outset brought it so prominently forward; but to the thoughtful and far-seeing, the last is the one which gives it such a momentous and enduring character. Recent events, both in Canada and the West Indies, have made it but too apparent, that the capability of the new constitution to withstand the shock of adverse fortune, and maintain inviolate the unseen chain which binds together the vast fabric of the British empire, is ere long to be put to the test; and that the time is rapidly approaching when the strain is to be applied to its dependencies, under which all former maritime dominions, from the beginning of time, have been snapped asunder.
The slightest acquaintance with history must be sufficient to convince every well-informed person, that colonial jealousy and discontent is the rock on which all the great maritime powers of the world have hitherto split. As the formation of a great maritime dominion without colonies is altogether impossible for this plain reason, that the carrying trade is generally enjoy ed as much by foreigners as natives, and the only traffic which can be permanently relied on as a nursery for seamen, is that which is carried on with your own dependencies, and of which foreign jealousy or hostility cannot deprive you so the loss of such colonies has invariably been the certain forerunner of approaching ruin. To trust to the carrying trade, as a resource which can be relied on when colonial dependencies have been severed from the mother country, is of all delusions the most deplorable. Experience has every
where proved, what reason might a priori have anticipated, that trade with independent states, how extensive soever, invariably comes in the later stages of society to fall more and more into the hands of foreign shipowners, and that, in the very magnitude of a great manufacturing state, foreign commercial intercourse, is laid, but for the intervention of its own colonies, the sure foundation for its ultimate subjugation. The reason is to be found in the lower value of money, and consequent higher price of shipbuilding and seamen, in an old opulent commercial community than a young and rising one, which has the materials of a commercial navy within its own bounds, and the consequent cheaper rate at which goods can be transported and ships maintained abroad than at home. From this cause, the debility of advanced years necessarily and very shortly comes over every maritime community which is not perpetually reunited by the trade with its own colonies, just as the weakness of age prostrates every family which is not upheld by the growing strength of its own younger branches.
History abounds with the proofs of this great and leading truth, which strikes at once at the root of the reciprocity system, and demonstrates that it is to our own colonies, and not the trade with independent states, that we must look for the means both of upholding our maritime superiority, and obtaining subsistence or employment to our numerous and rapidly increasing population. But it is sufficient to refer, amidst a host of others, to two facts which are of themselves decisive of the position. America and Canada are both rising states of European descent, with the same language, habits, occupations, and external circumstances; but the one is a colonial dependency of Great Britain, and the other is an independent state. And what is the result? Why, our North American colonies, with a population of only 1,500,000 souls, employ 560,000 tons of British and 530,000 of native shipping; while America, with a population of 14,000,000 of souls, only gave employment, in 1831, to 91,000 British tons; though the exports to it, in
1836, rose to L.13,000,000. The whole remainder was taken off in American bottoms, which amounted to 250,000 tons, proving thus, incontestably, how rapidly an increasing trade with a foreign state, in an old commercial community, comes to glide into the foreign in preference to the home vessels. Again, the tonnage of Great Britain employed in the trade with all the states of Europe, is now considerably less than it was thirtyfive years ago; while that with our own colonies, during that period, has increased more than five-fold.* In fact, it is the vast extent and rapid increase of our colonial commerce, which has compensated the decline of the foreign trade with independent states, and rendered the nation blind to the rapid strides which the reciprocity system is making in destroying our shipping employed in such intercourse with other states; and yet, by a singular perversity of intellect, the reciprocity advocates continue to refer to the sum total of our exports and shipping returns, as evidence in their favour, when it is produced only by the progressive growth of the system they deprecate over that which they support.
There never was a country so evidently destined by Providence, so nobly endowed by nature, with all the gifts requisite to make it the heart and soul of all the European colonies over the globe, as Great Britain. Placed on the edge of the European States, cradled in the Atlantic waves, she is "the midway station given" between the energy, wealth, and enterprise of Europe, and the boundless realms of future greatness and population in distant parts of the world. Abounding to overflowing with coal and ironstone, she possesses within herself, in inexhaustible profusion, the means of creating both the moving power and the manufacturing implements necessary to cover the earth with her fabrics. Blessed for ages with a free constitution, teeming in all quarters with the ardour of freedom, singularly tempered with moderation and ultimate sobriety of judgment, she is powerfully moved by the ardour and energy which are the great characteristics of democratic societies; and yet she has hi
therto, as if by a miracle, been protected, by aristocratic foresight, from the ruinous explosions which in almost every other instance have torn asunder the state machine where such a power has been generated within its bosom. The consequences of this extraordinary combination of popular energy with patrician direction, of natural advantages with adaptation of character, have been, that here trade has been raised to a colossal magnitude, amounting last year to one hundred and five mil lions of exports; that her flag is seen, and her influence is felt, in every quarter of the earth; that in the east, in the west, and in the south, vast empires are arising out of her overflowing numbers; and that it is already the boast of her transatlantic descendants, that to the Anglo-Saxon race is destined the sceptre of the globe.
Numerous are the evils, both social, physical, and political, which have arisen, perhaps unavoidably, from so extraordinary a destiny being reserved for a little island in the Atlantic; and obvious as are the dangers, both external and internal, which now menace the very existence of society, and the duration of all those blessings and this godlike career of usefulness in the British islands, there is yet none of them which does not admit of an easy ultimate remedy, by a due attention to our colonial dependencies; nor any one which may not be converted into a source of strength, if the obvious destiny of Great Britain, as the propagator of Christian principles and the European race through the globe, is not forgotten, amidst the insane jealousy or monstrous folly of the dominant multitude in these islands. Are we overwhelmed with a redundant and rapidly increasing population? Do we find twenty-four millions-an enormous multitude of inhabitants-in two islands of such limited extent as Great Britain and Ireland? Are we reasonably anxious how such a prodigious crowd of human beings, increasing at the rate of a thousand a day, in a great degree dependent, directly or indirectly, on foreign commerce, are to be maintained, if the outlets of that commerce come to be impaired or closed up amidst the vicissitudes of future war, or the fast increasing decay of
* See Porter's Progress of the Nation, i. 217.
national strength? Let us turn to our colonies, and there we shall find young and rapidly growing states, to which all that surplus population would prove the most inestimable of blessings, and whose boundless wastes invite the hand of laborious industry, and the powers of European art, to convert them into fruitful fields.
Do we fear, in the rapid progress and keen rivalry of European manufactures, and the uniform and immovable jealousy of European governments, the decline or extinction of the accustomed vents for our manufactured produce, in the old world?-Let us look to the east, the west, and the south, and we shall see empires rising up, with the strength of an armed man, in whose industry, wealth, and prosperity, is to be found the surest guarantee, not merely for the continuance, but the boundless increase, of our manufactured exports and maritime strength all over the world. Do we observe with dread the progress of anarchical principles amongst us, and mark the advent of that second, and well-known, and often-predicted period in revolutionary progress, where the working-classes who continue, are striving to revolt against the rule of the middle classes who command, the movement?-Even here, too, the handwriting on the wall of ages, while it marks our danger, points also to the only specific by which a remedy can be applied. These widespread discontents-this monstrous revolutionary ambition, which would convert the illiterate, and rash, and too often corrupted and profligate operatives of great cities, into the rulers of the state, is chiefly dangerous, because it is pent up within narrow limits; it is by opening the safety-valve that the danger of the explosion is to be prevented. This violent democratic spirit is the mainspring of emigration-this impatience of control, this desire to rule, is the centrifugal force intended by Providence to overcome the cohesive effect of habit and civilized enjoy ment; and send forth the burning democrat to the wilderness of nature, with the Bible in one hand and the axe in the other, to attempt in new worlds those fabled dreams of liberty and equality which never can be realized in the old, and seek on distant shores that freedom, of which, in his apprehension, Europe has become unworthy.
Is Ireland a source of incessant disquietude?-Has experience now proved, that all the efforts made to engraft
civilisation and order on its semi-barbarous Celtic, priest-ridden population, are ineffectual?-that we have given them emancipation of which they were unworthy, and reform which has been prolific only of ruin?-that conflagration, rapine, and murder, are steadily advancing before the breath of an aspiring hierarchy, and atrocities the most frightful daily committed under the eyes of a democratic government, by a reckless, bloody-minded, infuriated peasantry? Even in these melancholy circumstances-the darkest stain which the history of the world has yet affixed to the Catholic faith, and the cause of freedom and toleration-a ray of hope, opening a vista of ultimate felicity, is yet to be found in the capabilities for receiving the surplus population of the country which the colonies afford. Here, as in almost all other cases where priestly ambition combined with revolutionary passion fires the torch, it is agrarian distress and wide-spread misery which has laid the train; and, if we would apply the only effectual remedy to the mul tiplied evils which have so long fastened on that devoted land, we must commence with affording a vent to the overwhelming multitudes who now overspread its surface, and finding employment to the industrious poor who may be left behind. Here, again, the colonies start up to lend a helping hand to the empire, when almost sinking under the load of that passiondesolated land in the waves. innumerable bands of half-employed, half-civilized, half-starving bigots, who now encumber its surface the ready instruments, within its narrow and wasted bounds, of priestly ambition or democratic vengeance-possess qualities which, if properly directed, might be productive of prosperity, wealth, and comfort, to themselves and all around them. Diffused over the boundless wastes of America, Southern Africa, and Australia, they would find ample employment in reclaiming the wilderness to the first stage of improvement; converted, by comparative comfort, to industrious habits, they would cease to follow the hideous trade of assassination and conflagration; enabled to bring up, in rude plenty, a numerous offspring, they would be