Ir is a remarkable circumstance that there is no one of our colonies about which greater misconception and ignorance prevail, on the part of the British public, than about the most ancient colonial possession of the empire, and the one which lies nearest to the shores of England. It takes about as long to go from London to Newfoundland now, as it did in the last century to go from London to York. It is no uncommon thing to run from Queenstown to St John's in five days; and we may safely predict that the time is not far distant when the average length of the passage, from land to land, will not exceed four days. But it is not merely the proximity, but the antiquity of Newfoundland, as a colony, that gives it a claim to our attention. We have the graphic narrative of Captain Richard Whitbourne still extant to enlighten us upon this point, in which he tells us how "in 1622 I had command of a worthy ship of 220 tuns, set foorth by one Master Crooke of Southampton. At that time Sir Humphry Gilbert, a Devonshire knight, came to Newfoundland, with two good ships and a pinnace, and brought with him a patent from the late most renowned Queene Elizabeth, and in her name tooke possession of that country in the harbour of St John's, whereof I was an eyewitness." According to his own account, this gallant old sailor was an eyewitness in the same harbour of something much more extraordinary, for he gives us at great length an account of a mermaid" which very swiftly came swimming towards mee, looking cheerfully on my face, as it had been a woman. By the face, eyes, nose, mouth, chin, ears, necke, and

forehead, it seemed to me to bee so beautifull, and in those parts so well proportioned, having round about the head many blue streakes resembling haire-but certainly it was no haire; yet I beheld it long, and another of my company, also yet living that was not then farre from mee, saw the same coming so swiftly towards mee, at which I stepped backe, for it was come within the length of a long pike, supposing it would have sprung aland to mee, because I had often seene huge whales to spring a great height above the water, as divers other great fishes doe; and so might this great creature doe to mee if I had stood still where I was, as I verily believe it had such a purpose. But when it saw that I went from it, it did thereupon dive a little under the water, and swam towards the place where a little before I landed; and it did often looke backe towards mee, whereby I beheld the shoulders and backe downe to the middle to bee so square and white and smoothe as the backe of a man, and from the middle to the hinder part it was poynting in proportion, something like a broad hooked arrow; how it was in the fore part from the necke and shoulders, I could not well discerne. This (I suppose) was a maremaid or mareman. Now, because divers others have writ much of maremaids, I have presumed to relate what is most certayne of such a strange creature that was thus then seene at Newfoundland. Whether it were a maremaid or no I leave

others to judge." The judgment to which the old mariner appeals would, I am afraid, pronounce his discovery to partake more of the nature of a mare's-nest than a maremaid; for it is evident that

the phenomenon so carefully described by him was simply a "white coat," or young six-weeksold seal, whose smooth white fur and languishing eyes might fairly have produced the impression to which the superstition of mermaids possibly owes its origin. Captain Whitburne little thought as he gazed in wonder on his maremaid that the future prosperity of the colony he was helping to found was to be mainly due to these white-backed creatures. Considering that 250 years have elapsed since then, and how little our knowledge has kept pace with the years, I think it is high time that we should inform ourselves as to the present condition of a portion of. the British empire which the appliances of modern civilisation have brought into such close contact with it, and consider the effect which is likely to result from the altered relations which Newfoundland now bears to the rest of the world.

There is a sort of confusion in people's minds in England between the Banks of Newfoundland and the island, which has operated very much to the prejudice of the latter. The impression is not uncommon that the island itself is nothing but a huge sand-bank, inhabited during part of the year by a sort of floating population, who are principally employed in hauling nets full of cod upon the shore; and that when it is not covered with ice and snow, it is shrouded in fog-a dismal dreary spot in the Atlantic, peopled with fishermen and smelling of fish.

Those who have made a passage from Europe to the United States or Canada have, for the most part, crossed the Banks, without, in all probability, ever sighting the is land; and have inferred, from the fogs which are so common there,

that the island is similarly afflicted. The story has become historical of the Cockney who, crossing these banks for the first time, asked the surly old captain of a Cunarder whether there was always a fog there: "How should I know?" was the grim response; "I don't live here!"

One can, indeed, scarcely imagine a more dreary existence than that which thousands of English and French fishermen pass during three or four months of the year, at anchor in small vessels on these banks, two or three days' sail from land, and liable to be driven from their anchors by gales of wind, or enveloped for days together in mists so thick that one end of the ship is not visible from the other. These men lead a life of such privation and hardship during the spring and summer months, that one can scarcely begrudge them the repose and idleness of the long winter months, which they spend on shore with their wives and families in some of the remote coves in which their little settlements are dotted all round the island.

The contrast, in point of climate, between England and Newfoundland is the more striking because the change is so rapidly effected. Leaving England in the beginning of the second week of May, we have had all the early indications of summer, and we turn our backs upon green trees and budding or blossoming flowers, while we have already made a change in our attire. But in three days from leaving Queenstown we are already sensible of a change, and in two days more we have plunged into mid-winter. on the morning of the 14th of May last that a heavy fog concealed the bold outline of the island from our view, and we only knew how near we were to the coast by the loud roar of the breakers on the

It was

bour nearly two miles runs a broad street destitute of side walks, excepting here and there, where some caprice of public spirit has laid down a patch of wood. After the fire of 1846 had burnt down this street from one end to the other, a law was passed compelling the erection of nothing but stone or brick houses. Thus an opportunity was afforded the inhabitants of substantially improving the appearance of the town. Unfortunately every man has been allowed to follow his own devices, and as architectural taste does not seem to have culminated in Newfoundland to any high point at that epoch, there is seldom any higher flight of imagination than is represented by a door and a window on the ground-floor, and a couple of windows above. Moreover, as no obligation seems to have been laid on the builders to place their tenements in line, there is a pleasing irregularity and a constant projecting of unexpected angles which gives Water Street a dégagé character of its own. Nevertheless there are some good shops, with large plate-glass windows displaying the gay contents, and a tolerably lively crowd circulating past them. With a resident population of nearly 30,000, the inhabitants are doubled at certain seasons, when fishing-fleets are arriving or departing; and the streets are filled with brawny, stalwart men, roughly dressed but respectable looking, who are taking advantage of the opportunity to flaner in this fashionable centre, before retiring to the sealing-grounds of Labrador, or the cod-fishery on the Banks. Hence, as may be expected, there are signs and tokens of the popular pursuits everywhere. Outfitting stores for sailors and fishermen are more common than millinery shops; while I saw no less than three boats, during the first half-hour I was in the

place, being hauled about the streets in carts. Most of the merchants combine a wholesale with a retail business: their front windows are stocked with miscellaneous goods, while their back premises open on storehouses full of cod, and private wharves, alongside of which their own ships and steamers are moored.

It is not to be wondered at under these circumstances that there is an amount of life and bustle in St John's, notwithstanding its somewhat rough and almost impoverished aspect, which is not to be found in larger and handsomer towns; nor is this simplicity of exterior any indication of its real character, so far as the wealth of its inhabitants is concerned. Large fortunes are being constantly made here, but the makers of them rarely remain to spend them in the scenes in which they have been accumulated. At right angles to Water Street broad streets run straight up the hillside, but these, together with the two parallel streets that intersect them, are of wood, and are by no means imposing; indeed they are strongly suggestive of an Irish population, and one's ear is so constantly saluted with the accent, that it requires no stretch of imagination to fancy one's self in the west of Ireland, more especially as the climate and scenery both have many points in common with Galway or Connemara. The signs and tokens, moreover, of Roman Catholicism being the prevailing religion in the town, are apparent. The historical records of the island show that the resemblance is still further completed by the occasional occurrence of Catholic riots, and by feuds more or less sustained during the last two hundred years between Catholics and Protestants. At present there is a lull, and the partisans of these rival theologies are not indulging in those feelings of bitter hatred for each other by which