nature-the state in which social happiness may be enjoyed, with or without the luxuries of European civilisation. Even in the instances now adverted to, the apparently peaceful inhabitants of the towns are a foreign force of Púlo, Fúlo, or Feléta (best known under the last name), who, failing in a hostile expedition, preferred settling themselves in the country, and intermarrying with the natives, to returning home; and every year they make a grand excursion among their neighbours to collect slaves.

These Pulo are Mohammedans, and in their own region-that is, when they are of unmixed blood-are far removed in appearance from the negro. Their profile is almost European. Their foreheads are high, and at times expansive; the features long, and the chin pointed; the nose is straight, or at times almost aquiline; the usually blue expressive eye has a wandering, restless cast; while the lips, which are inclined to be thick, exhibit the only marked Ethiopic affinity. They occupy a high place in the scale of intelligence and quickness, and in commercial concerns they are keen and active.'

We will now give a little adventure of our author, characteristic of a country where there are no conveyances. Returning alone to his vessel from a visit to one of the towns still further up the Bínue than those we have mentioned, he walked barefoot through a swampy country seven or eight miles, and then lost almost all trace of the path. He tried to proceed by his pocket-compass, but soon became bewildered. He climbed several trees, but could discern no landmark; and finally the grass and brushwood became so long, thick, and close, that there was hardly any moving at all. The sun had set; the darkness was coming rapidly down; and it was no longer a question of proceeding on his journey, but of passing the night in the wilderness. He determined that the safest and most comfortable plan would be to perch upon a tree, and accordingly, having selected one, he proceeded to climb to his roost. Luckily for me, it had a double trunk, with a distance between of about two feet; so tying my shoes together, and casting them over my shoulder, I placed my back against the one trunk, and my feet against the other, and so managed to climb until I got hold of a branch by which I swung myself further up, and finally got into a spot about twelve or fifteen feet from the ground. Here I placed myself upon a branch about a foot in diameter, projecting at nearly right angles; and by leaning against the main trunk, and stretching out my legs before me, I found I had a tolerably comfortable seat, whence I might peer into the surrounding obscure. The night, fortunately, was not very dark, the stars gleamed overhead, while vivid flashes of lightning over the neighbouring hills enabled me from time to time to cast a momentary glance around me. I got on my shoes and stockings, as a protection against insects, then passed a piece of cord loosely round the branch, so that I could pass my arm through it and steady myself, and finally made preparations for repose by nicking two places in the bark of the tree for my heels to rest in. About eight o'clock, I distinctly heard in the distance the hum of human voices, and shouted to try and attract attention, but to no avail; believing, however, that there were some huts near, I marked the direction by a large tree. Feeling rather tired, I lay down on my face along the branch, and passing each of my hands into the opposite sleeve, to prevent them from being bitten, I was soon in a state of oblivion. I must have slept upwards of four hours, when I awoke, rather stiff from my constrained position, and had to try a change of attitude. To pass the time, I lit a cigar, and, as I had but one, I only smoked half of it, carefully putting back the remainder to serve for my breakfast. A dew was now falling; crickets and frogs innumerable were celebrating nocturnal orgies; huge mosquitoes, making

a noise as loud as bees, were assaulting me on all sides; and some large birds were roosting on the tree over my head. I tried in vain to doze away the hours; but I had had my usual allowance of sleep, and not being a bigoted partisan of the drowsy god, even when I really required his aid, he refused to attend to my invocations. I watched with most painful interest the rising and setting of various constellations, and was at length delighted with the appearance of Venus, shewing that morning was not now far off. A fresh novelty next presented itself, in the form of sundry denizens of the forest crowding to pay homage to their visitor. Howls of various degrees of intensity continually reached my ears, some resembling more the high notes of the hyæna, with occasional variations; and others, very close to me, being unquestionably the deep notes of the leopard. I once fancied that I saw a figure moving not far from me, but could not be positive. As light began to suffuse itself over the eastern sky, my nocturnal companions gradually retired, until at last I was left alone, but not solitary, for that I could not be as long as the incessant buzzing in my ears told me that my lilliputian winged antagonists were yet unwearied in their attacks, and still unsatiated with blood. At length, as gray dawn was being supplanted by brighter daylight, I ventured to descend from my roosting-place, where I had spent, not altogether without comfort, upwards of eleven hours.'

This is a finished sketch, and one of the best of its kind: but a literary picture is beyond our author's skill. He attempts no filling up, no reflections, to give depth and originality to a situation which, considered in reference to the locality, a wilderness in the heart of Africa, where white men were objects only of report or tradition, was nothing less than sublime. We have only to add to his account of the adventure, that after many fatiguing attempts to get through the long damp grass, which in one place formed a kind of tunnel half a mile long, through which he was obliged almost to creep, he came to some native huts, and by the aid of the inhabitants, at length reached his vessel. We may mention here, in reference to the vague hints about wild animals given in the above sketch, that there are fewer notices in the volume of the fauna of the country than might have been expected. The hippopotami are more frequently mentioned than any other species; they were frequently seen from the deck gamboling in the shallow and reedy water near the banks, or one of them, perhaps, popping its head up suddenly within an oar's length of them, to gaze for a moment at the unaccustomed visitors. These animals, however, rarely venture into deep water; they delight to lie upon sand-banks covered by water, with their heads only above the surface, basking in the sun. When more sportively inclined, they may be observed splashing clumsily about, opening their enormous jaws, displaying their tusks, and tossing their huge heads in anything but a graceful manner.' Their flesh is much prized by the natives; and their tusks are much more valuable as ivory than those of the elephant.

As they ascended the river further and further towards the east, the aspect and manners of the people became more and more savage; and in one place, where the author had landed in the gig, their rude attentions became very suspicious. They insisted on his spending the night with them; and it was only by a ruse, that he and his companions regained the boat, and pushed off. On another occasion, they ran nearly the same risk-if risk it was-in a locality so remarkable that we must describe it in the author's own words. We entered a creek on the north side, running nearly parallel with the river, and shortly afterwards sighted a village, at which we soon arrived. To our astonishment, the first thing that brought us up was our running the bow of the gig against a hut, and on looking around, we found

advantageous it would be for them to retain their countrymen at home, even as hewers of wood and drawers of water, than to depopulate the land, that we shall succeed in our efforts. For this purpose, no auxiliary is more effectual than commerce, which to minds constituted like those of the African is highly intelligible. Prove to them that they can derive more benefit by cultivating the ground, and by selling their grain, their camwood, their palm-oil, their shea-butter, than by living in a state of perpetual warfare. Convince them how much happier it would be for all to be able to rest quietly under their own vines and fig-trees, than, as at present, living in daily, nay, hourly dread of being carried off into captivity by some one more powerful than themselves. And, lastly, offer them, as long as they abide by our wishes and directions, whatever advantages it may be in our power to present to them.'

THE MAGICAL MANGO.

Everybody has heard of the Indian juggler's trick of producing a young mango-tree from a seed which he takes from his bag, and submits to your examination. The seed is sound, and fit for planting. The juggler collects a quantity of earth, moistens it with water, and, taking a mangostone from his bag, plants it in the earth he has prepared. Over all, he places a moderate-sized round basket, upon which he spreads his cloth or a native blanket. After an interval of discordant music and incantation, the cloth and basket are removed, the muddy seed is taken from the earth, and you observe that long, slender, white fibres, forming the root, have suddenly shot out. Again it is planted, and covered as before, and the music becomes more discordant, and the incantation more furious. At length the charm is complete, and the removal of the basket displays a young and tender shoot, with two opening leaves at its summit. Exclamations of surprise from the bystanders, and satisfaction from the band of jugglers, complete the second act. Again all is covered up anew, and the ear-splitting music goes on. Suddenly the coverings are removed, and, to the amazement and delight of all, the first shoot of a young mango-tree, with its small light-coloured leaves, makes its appearance. Seven years ago, I was the spectator of such a scene at Madras, where I had gone on sick leave, and was glad of any amusement to relieve the monotony of a forced confinement to the house. I had a shrewd suspicion that, if I could examine this tree of miraculous growth, it would turn out a very simple affair. Acting on this idea, I suddenly seized it, and, in spite of the clamour of the jugglers, bore it off. It certainly had the appearance of a real mango-shoot. There was the dirty stone, wet and discoloured, with the earth clinging to it. From its lower part, the white fibres of the recent root streamed out with a most natural appearance, whilst from the upper side sprang a perfect young shoot, six or eight inches in height, with the leaves in their earliest growth. A basin of water solved the mystery, for, on washing the stone, I found it old and dry, and split down on one side. From its cavity I took out a small bundle of grass roots, one end of which was tied with thread, and withdrew the young shoot of the mango from the top of the stone. Here you have only one part of the apparatus of deception. It is perfected in the following manner :-The mango, an evergreen, grows in almost every large garden in India. A confederate first pulls a sufficient quantity of the roots of grass which are white, long, and fibrous, and resemble the first growth of roots from the mango-seed. He ties them up, inserts the tied end in the cleft stone, and gives them secretly with the cloth to his chief, who plants a mango-stone before your eyes, and whilst putting the cloth over the basket, dexterously withdraws it, and substitutes the stone with the roots. The moist earth in which it is buried removes all appearance of deception. Again the confederate is ready with his progressive slips of mango, which, at every removal of the basket, he contrives to place within reach of the operator without being seen; and the latter, in his manipulations whilst covering up the basket with the cloth, slips them into the upper part of the slit in the mango

Who are the great of earth?

The mighty hunters? kings of ancient line,
For ages traced, half fable, half divine,
Whose stone-wrought lions guard in heathen pride
Their tomb-like palaces? where now we read,
They lived, and reigned, and died!
Who spoke, and millions rushed to toil and bleed?
Not these-not these indeed!

Who are the mighty? they!

The builders of Egyptian pyramids ?
The unknown kings, on whose stone-coffin lids
Strange forms are scrolled? or men, whose awful sway
Wrought the rock-temple, reared the cromlech gray,
Whose smoke, and fire, and incense darkened day?
Not they-O no-not they !

Who are the great of earth?
Mark, where yon prophet stands,
The loadstar needle trembles in his hands,
O'er western seas he finds for mind a throne-
Or he on whose wrapt sight new wonders shone,
Where heavenward turned, his glass made worlds his

own

Not he-not these alone!

Who are the mighty? see,
Where art's a wizard; where the marble rife
With grace and beauty quickens into life-
Or where, as danger's waves beat wild and free,
Some 'glorious arm' like Moses' parts the sea,
That a vexed people yet redeemed may be-

The statesman ?-sage ?—is 't he?

O no-not these the noblest triumphs prove.
Go, where forgiveness turning like the dove
Alights o'er life's dark flood on some lone heart—
Where men to men, truth, justice, peace, impart,
As best interpreters of Godlike love-
Where all life's noblest charities have birth:
There dwell the great, the kings of peerless worth—
They shall subdue the earth!
J. B.

RAILWAY CUSTOM.

While passing from Ghent to Antwerp, in 1855, through the Pays de Waes, I observed a singular custom, of which I could not obtain any explanation. When the railwaytrain was in motion, the labourers, both men and women, engaged in the fields, joined hands, formed themselves in line; and either turning their backs on the carriages or at right angles with them, bent, and in some cases knelt down, preserving this attitude until the train had passed. It is worth noting, that only such as were engaged on a piece of ground where there were crops growing acted in this way; those standing on the road or on ploughed land taking no notice of the train at all; nor, indeed, did any do so save while it was actually moving. I have never seen or heard of this custom elsewhere.-Notes and Queries.

Printed and Published by W. and R. CHAMBERS, 47 Paternoster Row, LONDON, and 339 High Street, EDINBURGH. Also sold by JAMES FRASER, 14 D'Olier Street, DUBLIN, and all Booksellers.

POPULAR

LITERATURE

No. 141.

YACHTING.

A YACHTSMAN, like a poet, must be born with a leaning towards his vocation: he must have an inherent love of salt water, and be destitute of that hydrophobiawhich, by the way, rabid animals do not possess-which prompts one to avoid water as much as possible, and makes him think he would much rather walk the dry land, like a thing of life,' with a dry jacket and an appetite for his dinner, than walk the waters like a half-dead-and-alive creature, with a reeling brain and

nauseated stomach.

If a 'wet sheet' be synonymous in his mind with a wet blanket-if he be scrupulous about contaminating his hands with tar and grease-if he require punctual meals and undisturbed nights' rest-if he be of precise habits and formal notions, let him stay on shore; he will never make a yachtsman.

Except for a short sail on a very fine day, we would give the same advice to our lady-readers. Ashore, they are truly, as the Persian poet sings, the roses in the flower-garden of our existence;' but transplanted to the deck of a yacht, they become briers and thistles, alike useless, inconvenient, and unsightly. If a lady get a fall from her horse, or tumble into a pond, or sink in a swoon from fright, or any other cause, or no cause at all, there may be some romance in rescuing and consoling her, though her garments be smeared with mud or covered with dust, and her hair disordered; but sentiment and sea-sickness cannot possibly exist together. The most devoted admirer will never sympathise with, seldom even pity, your sufferings. If he be well himself, he will chuckle internally at the proud consciousness of his immunity from such a misfortune; and if he also be ill, his own peculiar misery is too absorbing to admit of any compassion for others.

To all such persons a yacht is anything but a pleasure-boat; but if a man has a real taste for amateur seamanship, and also time, opportunity, and, above all, sufficient means for the purpose, there cannot be a more enjoyable, fascinating pursuit.

PRICE 14d.

Royal Western of Ireland, Valentia; Royal Yorkshire, Hull and Whitby; Royal London, Thames; Prince of Wales, Thames.

Each of these clubs has its own admiral and viceadmiral, or commodore and vice-commodore, committee and secretary, its own flags, which being issued by special Admiralty warrant, entitle vessels sailing under them to certain privileges, such as exemption from harbour-dues, &c., not only in home, but foreign ports. They have also their distinct case of rules and sailing-regulations. The difference in the latter is often productive of confusion, particularly that for the measurement of tonnage, the method for finding which varies so much, that the difference of several tons is often the result.

It would seem to the uninitiated an easy matter to determine the exact measurement of any vessel, but this is far from being the case. The best method in vogue does not pretend to do more than closely approximate to the correct capacity; and this difficulty is considerably increased by the common practice of purposely building yachts to evade these rules and measure less than their real tonnage, which can be done in several ways, interesting only to those who are conversant with such matters.

This is not considered to be taking an improper advantage, as in love, war, and yacht-sailing, everything is considered fair. There is, perhaps, as much jockeying in boat-racing as in horse-racing; and though the sailing-regulations are apparently most stringent, yet means may be found of evading the spirit of many of them, without actually infringing the letter. The proper trim and handling of any craft are even more necessary to insure victory than the seat and touch of the jockey. The celebrated schooner America, when she first came over, was supposed to owe her speed entirely to the formation of her hull and cut of her sails. Dozens of yachts were built on her lines-all of them failures too-sails were cut to stand like hers; but as soon as she passed into another's hands, it was found that, like the wonderful lamp, all her virtues consisted in the knowledge of the owner how to bring them into play.

in their vicinity; and in consequence, the prizes are larger and the attendance more respectable than it could be otherwise.

This has induced great competition, and consequent improvements, in yacht-building; so much so, that the greatest clippers find themselves, as it is termed, 'built out' in the course of a couple of seasons; that is to say, some newer rival starts up, which triumphantly defeats them, and maintains her post of preeminence in every match, until she is in turn outsailed by another.

There is no doubt, however, that comfort and seaworthiness have, in consequence of this competition, been sacrificed to speed. It is impossible for fair sea-going boats to carry the spars and canvas used in racing; and many of the yachts which are carrying off prizes this season are mere shells, without cabinfittings or internal accommodations of any kind, as it is found that bulkheads, or anything which lessens the elasticity of a vessel's sides, diminishes her speed.

With one exception, all these clubs are of recent date-nearly all of them having sprung up within the last twenty years. The exception is the Royal Cork Yacht-club, which dates back to 1720, and is doubtless the oldest society of the kind in the world. Its antiquity is confirmed by the manner in which it is spoken of in a work, entitled A Tour through Ireland by two English Gentlemen (London, printed for J. Roberts, in Warwick Lane, 1748). I shall now acquaint your lordships with a ceremony they have at Cork. It is somewhat like that of the doge of Venice's wedding the sea. A set of worthy gentlemen, who have formed themselves into a body, which they call the Water-club, proceed a few leagues out to sea once a year, in a number of little vessels which, for painting and gilding, exceed the king's yacht at Greenwich and Deptford. Their admiral, who is elected annually, and hoists his flag on board his little vessel, leads the van, and receives the honours of the flag. The rest of the fleet fall in their proper stations, and keep their line in the same manner as the king's ships. This fleet is attended with a prodigious number of boats, which, with their colours flying, drums beating, and trumpets sounding, forms one of the most agreeable and splendid sights your lordships can conceive.'

The old rules, as they existed in 1720, are still extant, and some of them are so characteristic of the good old times as to be worth transcribing.

Rule No. 2 directs, that no admiral do bring more than two dishes of meat for the entertainment of the club.' The apparent moderation of this 'poor halfpenny worth of bread' is rather put out of countenance by the 'intolerable deal of sack' which follows, as it appears by No. 3, that it was resolved that no admiral presume to bring more than two dozen of wine to his treat, for it has always been deemed a breach of the ancient rules and constitutions of the club, except when my lords the judges are invited.' Rather a doubtful compliment to their lordships; but it proves there must have been good heads on the bench in those days. After such copious libations, we cannot but commend the prudence of No. 16, which directs that all business of the club be done before dinner, except appointing the time of the next meeting, or presenting, mulcting, or levying fines.' No. 9 orders 'that no long-tail wigs, large sleeves, or ruffles, be worn by any member at the club.' No. 14 says, 'that such members of the club, or others, as shall talk of sailing after dinner, be fined a bumper.' We

wonder how often this rule was infringed, both unwittingly and of malice aforethought, and how willingly did the culprit pay the penalty. It would seem, be a necessary qualification for a gentleman to be however, that as time wore on, and it ceased to able to carry himself discreetly with half-a-dozen bottles under his belt, the good old Irish gentlemen resolved to conform to the custom of the times, and stint themselves in their liquor, for we find an edict added, dated the 21st of April 1737: 'Ordered, that for the future, unless the number of the company exceed fifteen, no man be allowed more than one bottle to his share, and a peremptory.' What is meant by a peremptory' does not transpire; but it probably was meant to express an unknown quantity, varying according to circumstances, with the inclination and capability of the individual-like the Scotch bittock, which means any distance from half a mile to five.

6

A list of members, commencing with Lord Inchiquin, is appended, and a list of sailing-directions, which are quaint enough in their way, but would hardly pass muster in these degenerate days. Some of them, however, are worthy of being retained, particularly that one which provides for the unpleasant but common contingency contemplated in the regulation beginning: 'If a captain has any body very sick on board him,' &c.

Persons accustomed only to large vessels are often surprised that so few accidents occur to pleasure-boats; besides which, the real tars are apt to look down on naval militia. Perhaps in yachting, as in many of the yachtsmen's seamanship, and regard them as a kind of graver positions in life, much pleasure would be marred by a knowledge of our present insecurity and impending danger. As the old quartermaster of the flag-ship used pithily to express it, when he saw a small-craft carrying too much canvas: "There they goes a carryin' on; they fears nothin', because they knows nothin'.'

Yacht-clubs are not confined to the United Kingdom, St Petersburg, Antwerp, and Rotterdam, westwards to but are scattered over various parts of the world-at New York, and eastwards to Bombay. The last-named harbour is admirably adapted for yachting. For six months in the year, a fine steady sea-breeze prevails all day from eleven A. M., which seldom, as long as daylight lasts, subsides into a calm, or rises to a gale. The wide expanse of water gives a scope and variety which can seldom be found elsewhere; the shores are the water's edge, are scattered over its surface; and picturesque and varied; numerous islands, wooded to on these, within a few miles of the hum of commerce and centre of eastern civilisation, may be found the original jungle, uncultivated and silent as it has been for countless ages past; perhaps more silent, for in one of these islands is the eighth humbug of the world, the far-famed Caves of Elephanta, as the English call them, though their real name is Garipoora. They are curious, certainly, from their remote antiquity-too remote to be correctly ascertained, but hardly repay the toil of the long ascent, under a burning sun, of the steep, uneven path which leads from the landing-place to the top of the hill where the caves are situated. The view from the summit is better worth seeing than the Caves; not only of the fine sheet of water which forms the harbour, but the innumerable variety of European and native craft. Some of the latter look most picturesque in the distance. When running before the wind, they boom out a lateen-sail on either side, and the yards pointing upwards in opposite directions, appear exactly like the pinions of a sea-bird resting on the water, and just preparing for flight; but when they approach nearer, you perceive that the hull, built on the lines of Noah's Ark, is clumsily made, and ill put together; the scanty rigging composed of different kinds of ropes knotted together; one mast bends gracefully forward, whilst the other is tumbling back towards the stern; the rudder and other appliances