he fully realizes how wonderful it really is. The question constantly suggests itself, "What caused this?" Niagara you can understand-it is a fall in the outlet of large lakes; Mont Blanc is a pimple on the earth's face, but who can tell how these mathematical blocks were formed and united. Happy they who believe this was a Giant's work, or rather those who have the reverential unquestioning disposition of an old guide, who, to one jesting about the giant's maker, said, lifting his hat, "It was one greater than a giant-it was God, sir." One fact, which complicates the question, is, that while most of the columns are perpendicular, some vary from an upright position, making in places angles of fully 45°. The peasantry have many quaint conceits about various parts of the Causeway; among them, that if you drink three times from the Giant's Well, which is a reservoir for a tiny stream depressed in the surface of the stone, and then, while sitting in a peculiar arrangement of taller and shorter colums, resembling a seat, and called "The Lady's Chair," think of some member of the opposite sex, you will be wedded to him or her within the year. I tried it faithfully, but see little prospect of the promised result. At the sun-set hour, while finding a place where the stillness was so nearly perfect that my watch's ticking sounded loud, I watched the "merry dancers," clouds which appeared in the ocean horizon, and took the shapes of ships, islands and more fantastic things, until the moon was up, and then strolled to the hotel, thinking of classmates whiling away their summer vacation. The ensuing Sabbath was improvingly spent at St. Mybun's church on the Causeway, where Paul furnished the written, and Nature the extempore sermon. The music by a choir of bright-faced waves, aided by Eolus as organist, was almost equal to Beethoven's best. The journey down to Dublin gave rather a sad impression of Ireland; possibilities for high advancement seemed to be neglected, and most of the rural population appeared to be very far down in the scale of civilization; those who have emigrated to America are more than fair specimens of the people at large. Dublin itself, with the exception of a few fine public buildings, is meanly built and abominably dirty, and we left with no particular regret. The sail from Kingtown to Holyhead was somewhat moving to persons given to sea-sickness, and with the admirable order, the quiet effectiveness of the arrangements reconciled us to the change from sea to land locomotion at 2 A. M. Soon we were rattling on towards Bangor, and scarcely noticing the change, passed on and off the great tubular bridge over Menai Straits, and saw the suspension structure looking like fairy work in the moonlight. Our experienced hotel hunting in the winding streets of Bangor that night, was more ludicrous than pleasant. After a little sleep, and a large breakfast to keep up the general average, we secured a dog-cart and fast horse, and trotted off to the Penrhyn Slate Quarry, through a beautiful blending of sea, mountain, wood, and cultivated scenery. The quarry is nine hundred feet deep, and employs nearly three thousand men. The shape is that of a right-angled triangle, and veins are excavated downwards and laterally. After inspecting the various parts and processes, our guide stationed us in an elevated ledge in the center, that we might see a blast, or rather a number of blasts, which occur simultaneously at set times. The mine looked like some Roman Amphitheatre, and while we were drinking in its huge proportions, a bugle sounded as though to announce the games. This was the preparatory signal, and suddenly, so suddenly that the effect was startling, the clicking of the many hammers ceased, and the workmen in white blouses were seen running here and there to the appointed refuges, then another bugle sound gave the signal for lightning the matches; barely giving those doing this time for escape, while we were still holding our breaths in apprehension for them, the smoke leaped up in delicate wreaths, and announced the reports, many together like volleys, and others in succession as irregular musketry firing; the angular shape caused echoes from one up to ten, according to the position of the blast, and the whole effect of the reports and rattling rocks was truly grand. The Suspension and Tubular Bridges seen later in the day well illustrate "That union is strength." The first is most beautiful, the last most remarkable. Two main tubes, respectively 472 feet, stretch from towers on the Carnarvon and Anglesey shores to Britannia Tower, which rises 210 feet in the center of the strait, and shorter tubes lead from the shore towers, making in all a length of 1,513 feet. The great tubes through which the trains pass are rectangular, and the tops and bottoms are formed of smaller square tubes, which furnish the strength of the structure, the sides merely serving to connect the upper and lower parts. There are two great passage ways thus made, 100 ft. above high water mark, and the iron in each weighs 5,000 tons. Those who have reached hydrostatics in natural philosophy, may be interested to know, that the tubes after being made on terra firma, were raised by hydrostatic pressure. Water, as well as men, does most when cool; when in a sweat inside of an engine boiler, it never did so great a work as this. Want of time and space compels me to close these notes upon Great Britain, without describing Chester, rich in antiquity; Liverpool, in merchandise; Manchester, in factories; beautiful Windmere; Here ford, with our genial Edinboro' acquaintances; Malvern, and its hills; Worcester and Cheltenham. These rambling letters have been pleasant connecting links for me with College friends, and I only end them when there is a near prospect of a renewal of former personal intercourse. College life has many charms, and the discovery which a visit to the old world forces upon one of how valuable all knowledge is, will make its less attractive lessons golden opportunities. E. L. H. "Green." PERHAPS no word in the College vocabulary exerts a more powerful influence upon our student character, than the monosyllable chosen as a subject for this article. The secret of its power over our actions is found in the dread of ridicule, which, as has been often remarked, is one of the strongest motives of human conduct. And no ridicule is so much feared or so deeply felt, as that which accuses us of ignorance. It is through this dread of being considered ignorant that we are especially influenced by this word during the first part of college life, and the impression made upon our minds at that time is all the more lasting, because the habits which will go with us, through the four years, are then in process of formation. There are doubtless many cases in which this influence is beneficial in its effects. Not a few who enter college bring with them altogether exaggerated ideas of their own importance, and particularly of their shrewdness to discover and ability to outwit any attempt made to impose upon them. They "get sold!" No, sir! They are not the men to be "humbugged" by any of your tricks. Perhaps their "cousin Tom" was a collegian not long ago; in that case they are only more secure in the delightful assurance of their own wisdom. They have heard all about these jokes upon poor freshmen, and they look down with almost contemptuous pity upon those green enough to be “taken in." Like the worthy Mr. Biffles, with the story of whose misfortunes the readers of Putnam are acquainted, they declare that "no fellow of any sense" would suffer himself to be cheated in this way, and they "would like to see the man who could deceive them." As in the case of that honorable gentleman, their desire is not unfrequently gratified, in which gratification their friends most heartily participate; for improvement almost necessarily results to the crest-fallen boaster. In such cases our ridicule is only applied to that conduct which we really, and with reason, despise; and so far as the fear of our laughter tends to keep such conduct in check, its influence is just and beneficial. But as our object in ridiculing others is not so often their improvement as our own amusement, we do not by any means confine our merriment to those things which need reformation. Too often, on the contrary, we laugh at that, which, in our hearts, we respect and admire. The mention of a few examples will establish this assertion. It is by no means uncommon, at the time when "gentlemen who have recently entered college," are receiving the particular attention of their disinterested friends, the Sophomores, to hear the remark, "He is the greenest Freshman I ever saw; why, he believed every word I said!" Now, it is not weakminded credulousness that is meant here. It is the noble confidence in students, as friends united with him in the bonds of a common pursuit, which the warm-hearted scholar can but feel, till he is taught otherwise by bitter experience, and which unhappily for him, and for us all, is too often left on the very threshold of college life. If one would not be called green, he must have learned that hardest lesson of our lives-the habit of distrust. Once acquainted with the fact, that the mere word of a fellow-student is not to be relied upon, the next step for our friend is that he should learn that language is here used, in strict accordance with the well known maxim of Talleyrand, “to conceal ideas." He must know that it is evidence of deplorable verdancy, if he puts a literal construction upon any of our current phrases. He must understand that absence from morning exercises, on account of "sleeping over" the ringing of the bell does not in any way interfere with the degree of wakefulness, essential to "count the strokes" of that uneasy" institution," as it sends out its unwelcome summons: that "inability to walk abroad" during illness, which requires absence from college duties, does not by any means imply inability to call upon a friend who rooms in the next street, or to be regular in attendance at one's boarding place; provided, always, that no too observing tutor take note of these excursions. But our friend must, above all things, avoid the expression of warmhearty feeling, for he may rest assured that any outburst of enthusiasm, any honest acknowledgment of earnest sentiment will merely excite a smile, and the remark, "He will learn better before long." In these cases, and in many more which might be cited, it is our belief that the outward custom belies the inner heart. We do not believe that the calculating, suspicious man is more respected than the open-hearted, enthusiastic student. We do not believe that the man of strict integrity has less of our heart's honor, than he who conforms to any custom which authorizes deceit. If this is so, why need our actions thus misrepresent our true feelings? But although this influence may be thus unwarranted and unjust, it is none the less injurious. Its tendency is to check almost wholly our youthful enthusiasm,-it makes us careful and suspicious; and, worse than this, it teaches us that insincerity which in turn will induce us to laugh at what we truly honor, and will at length lead us really to forget that these noblest qualities of the heart are other than mere weakness. There is no reason why these things should be as they are. It is unnatural that we, while young, should hasten to mar the freshness of our character by that " hardening of the heart, that brings Irreverence for the dreams of youth." It is worse than foolish for us to be so eager to imitate the grown-up outer world, with its hollowness, its coldness and insincerity. Full soon enough we will have to do with these. Let us not then, by anticipating them here, only fit ourselves to fall in with the current, and so do nothing to make the world better when we pass through it; but rather let us, by open-hearted sympathy and sincerity, here prepare ourselves soon to take up manfully, and bear faithfully "Our portion of the weight of care, One half the human race." E. C. P. |