is connected by telegraph with another at Melbourne, and was to be brought into communication with others at Geelong and Port Phillip Heads. An attempt had been made, and successfully, to give the time at night, for the advantage of such captains as were busy on shore during the day. The light of the light-house was hidden at two minutes to eight, and suddenly shewn at eight. The legislative council had voted a sum of L.2500 for building an observatory at Williamstown, and an appropriation of L.700 was made for astronomical instruments. In connection with astronomy, we may mention that the shipmasters of the Tyne have memorialised the Admiralty for a system of regulations that shall prevent collisions at sea. The constant and universal bright light, they say, does not answer the purpose, and they suggest that vessels on the starboard tack shall shew a green light; vessels on the port tack, a red light; and vessels with the wind free, a common bright light. Steam-vessels should be required to answer signals and get out of the way of sailingvessels; and ships at anchor should shew a yellow light. Sounds to be used in foggy weather-a certain number of distinct sounds to indicate the tack the vessel is on, or if before the wind or at anchor. Seeing that four years' repeal of the navigation-laws have rather helped to crowd the sea with vessels than to destroy commerce, as was predicted, it is doubtless desirable that some effectual system of signals should be brought into use. The Society of Arts have celebrated their one hundred and second anniversary with a dinner at the Crystal Palace. Their examination of candidates from Mechanics' Institutes has proved satisfactory: of the fifty-two who appeared, only two were deficient in ability to spell correctly, and some of them exhibited an amount of knowledge that would have put many a university graduate to shame. - The Scandinavian Society of Naturalists have sent invitations to British savans to attend their seventh meeting, to be held at Christiania; and the American Association for the Advancement of Science have announced their meeting, with promise of something important.-The Geographical Society have had further information and discussion on communications across the Isthmus of Panama; and some earnest talk on the propriety of sending one or two stout steam-vessels every year to see what is going on in the Arctic regions, and watch for any chance of discovering relics of Franklin. -Dr Rae is to have the L.10,000 for the news he brought of the lost party.-The last accounts from Hawaii inform us that the town of Hilo has been spared the long threatened volcanic danger: Mauna Loa had been more than one hundred days in eruption, and the stream of lava, including its windings, measured sixty-five miles in length.-The Arundel Society have published their seventh annual volume, relating chiefly to ancient ivory-carvings.-And the Oriental Translation Fund are continuing their valuable series of works translated from the eastern languages. Already sixtynine works are published, and the Rev. W. Cureton is engaged on a translation from the Arabic of The Book of Religious and Philosophical Sects; Sir Henry Rawlinson undertakes The Great Geographical Lexicon; and Mr Bland a curious Persian work, The Wonders of Creation. The Statistical Society publish, in the last number of their Journal, a paper by Mr Glyde on 'Localities of Crime in Suffolk,' which tends to modify existing notions on that subject. He discusses the comparative criminality of towns and rural districtsamong them the county-town Ipswich, with more than 32,000 inhabitants, with Wickham Market, a village of 1700-and remarks: 'During the five years ending 1853, Ipswich furnished one criminal to every 557 persons; while Wickham Market had sent one Then comparing criminal to every 339 persons.' fifteen towns, average population 5000, with fifteen villages, average population 820, the towns gave one criminal to every 593 persons, and the villages one to every 317. The comparison is unfavourable to the popular notion of rural innocence, for, apart from numbers, the country criminals are shewn to be more vicious and malicious than those of towns. Is Suffolk an exception to all the other English counties? Dr Rilliet of Geneva taking up the fact that intermarriages of relatives are frequent in that city, has investigated the consequences of the mistaken practice, and confirms all that have already been known to be evil, and adds to their number. Among them he shews: monstrous births, and children particularly disposed to diseases of the nervous systemthe order in which such diseases occur being epilepsy, imbecility or idiocy, privation of speech and hearing, paralysis; together with different cerebral maladies, disposition to tuberculous scrofula, early deaths, and other fatal results-a catalogue that presents matter for grave consideration. The inundations in France have given rise to numerous projects for the prevention of similar disasters in future. M. Vallée, inspector-general of bridges and roads, reminds the Academy of Sciences of his plan published in 1840 for cutting a canal to turn the Arve into the Lake of Geneva during flood-time. The lake would serve as a vast reservoir, a dike would be built at its outlet, and, supposing a warning message to be flashed from Lyon, the water would be kept back at the rate of 1000 cubic metres per second, and the great valley of the Rhône would be saved. The canal, 2000 metres in length, would cost 3,000,000 francs; and calculations shew that there would be no risk in staying the outflow of the water.-Another savant states that the floods occur when the fierce African sirocco blows across the Mediterranean, and he suggests that when the electric cable is laid to Algiers, news of the coming wind may be flashed four days in advance.-Some projectors recommend a great system of dikes, as in Holland; others, the cutting of straight channels between the bends of rivers, and to keep the beds constantly deepened; and others, the planting of forests. M. Fabre thinks the Gulf Stream, and not the sirocco, to be the immediate cause of the excessive rain. We mentioned some time ago the unsuccessful sinking of an artesian well at Kentish Town, in the north of the metropolis. It now appears, from particulars published by the Geological Society, that the work was abandoned when the borings had reached a depth of 1302 feet, no water having been met with. This unexpected result disappoints and astonishes those who, with Mr Prestwich, hoped for and predicted a copious supply of water from the lower greensands. The lower greensands are naturally expected to occur immediately below the gault; but in the present instance, the gault was found to be succeeded by '176 feet of a series of red clays with intercalated sandstones and grits.' It is a fact which sets our geologists pondering. Has it any relation with Mr Austen's theory, that carboniferous rocks may possibly be met with under the chalk in this part of England? is one among other interesting questions now discussed. The level of the London wells has sunk 50 feet since 1822, and falls at the rate of 18 or 24 inches a year. In connection with this subject we may notice the artesian well which has been for some months in progress in the Bois de Boulogne near Paris. It is a mètre in diameter, and when finished will be 700 mètres deep150 more than the famous well of Grenelle. Mr Kind, the engineer charged with the undertaking, carries on the boring by means of the Chinese method of percussion, which has the merit of being simple and expeditious. To give a notion of it: pine-rods five mètres in length are provided. A 'monkey' with iron teeth is attached to the first of these rods, and this to a twenty-four horse-power steam-engine, which, by a succession of lifts and falls, twenty times a minute, speedily sends the monkey into the ground beneath. So the boring goes on, other rods being screwed on as the depth increases; water is soon met with; the hole fills, and the rods being of the same specific gravity as the water, their weight ceases to be felt. Every twelve hours the rods are unscrewed, the monkey is raised, and a large bucket with a valved bottom is let down into the pulpy mass at the bottom, where, having filled itself, the valves close, and it is brought up full. This method is thus seen to present important advantages; it effectually obviates the slowness and impeding weight of the iron borer. Mr Kind is confident of success. He has already sunk a well 730 mètres deep, and has one or two others in progress besides the one here noticed; and with a large iron cylinder contrived for the purpose, he brings to the surface huge specimens of every stratum through which the sinking passes. SMALL FEET. An Anglo-Chinese journalist has the hardihood to attack the native practice of bandaging the feet of female children to make them small-a practice which, he says, is contrary to the principles of Confucianism, and not more ancient than the tenth century. Awaiting the spread of Christianity, which will assuredly do away with so barbarous a custom, he proposes, in the meantime, a new method of abridging the feet, and at the same time abridging by several years the tortures of the poor girls. Here it is:-Now, as regards my method of making feet small. Call, while the girl is still at the breast, a butcher to operate with a cleaver. Let him cut the feet from above, downwards to the sole; then carry the knife outwards, reserving sufficient integument for a comfortable flap, which, after tying the vessels, turn over the wound, and keep in place by plasters. In a few days, it will heal naturally. If small feet be beautiful, these will be more so if the pain be severe, it is but temporary, while cramping with bandages is a daily torture, consuming much time. I hope that benevolent gentlemen will exhort people to discard bandaging, and adopt my method. DIRECT EVIDENCE FOR MURDER. Wodrow, in his Analecta, noting the frequency of murders in Scotland in 1730, chronicles a remark which touches on one of the foibles of our own age as to evidence. By some quirks of law,' he says, 'the murderers usually get off, so that two very good lawyers at Glasgow say that now they believe that none shall be condemned for a murder, unless an instrument can be taken upon the murder in the hands of a public notary.' BAPTISMAL SUPERSTITIONS IN SCOTLAND. In the west of Scotland there is something unlucky attached to telling the names of infants before they are christened or baptised. All curiosity till then must usually be suspended, and the child is hailed by its name after having been brought home from church. In presenting the child to the minister for baptism, it is understood that the child's head must be supported on the right arm of the male parent, and that when a number of baptisms are to occur at the same time, all the male children take the precedence of the female. A custom existed in country-places, but I think nearly now exploded, for a mother, when carrying her child to church for baptism, to take along with her a considerable supply of bread and cheese, a portion of which was given to the first person she met on the public road after leaving her house. I have had in such an instance a whang or slice of the cheese forced upon me, and which it would have been accounted a high insult peremptorily to have refused. I consider that the provision borne along was part of the blythe meat presented to the friends in the house who had assembled after the birth to pay their congratulations to the pair who had been blessed with this addition to their number. It is not unlikely that in such offerings traces may be found referring to the period when the old Romans inhabited the Caledonian regions, which some of your learned correspondents will be able to canvass.-Notes and Queries. FLOWERS. THEY spring unnoticed and unknown, Some o'er the murm'ring streamlet fling Some 'neath the ocean's rolling waves In silent grandeur grow, Nor heed the storm which o'er them raves, But still in beauty blow. Some where the eagle builds her nest, Yes, there, even there, wild flow'rets grow And o'er the clamorous eaglets, throw Mid mountains of perpetual snow, Some on the breezes of the night The stately fern, the golden broom, All these in rich succession bloom Flowers cheer our toilsome way! Flowers image forth the boundless love Is but a drop of love divine, ILIMON. 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 LITE Science and Arts. CONDUCTED BY WILLIAM AND ROBERT CHAMBERS. No. 135. SATURDAY, AUGUST 2, 1856. PSEUDONYMS. PRICE 14d. Call of existence, and we feel in a moment that this could But people make the most astonishing efforts not to display in the title-page the contents and subjects of their books, but to conceal them; nay, to mislead the unwary observer into the purchase of a volume for which he has no possible use. An immense work was published many years ago and duly advertised under the name of Nimrod. Here was a disquisition evidently upon the sports of the field, the rise of hunting, the descent into harriers, creeping downward even so low as coursing. Still the work would be interesting; and a Suffolk squire or Forfarshire laird got possession of the sporting tome with much expectation of instruction on the breed of dogs and the best way of preserving the fox. But what does he see? A most deep, erudite, and unintelligible inquiry into the building of the Tower of Babel, the confusion of tongues, the spread of peoples and languages-an omni-gatherum of philology, archæology, divinity, ethnology, and grammar, in all its chaotic origin and provincial developments. Was it not nearly akin to obtaining money under false pretences? the glories of the Saltmarket with half the force. Could Bailie Jarvie without the Christian name have IN nothing is a commodity of good names so desirable done it?-could Bailie Nicol without the surname? as in the title of a book. Authors have sometimes It was necessary that the whole man should be been more puzzled in getting a good serviceable presented to us in all his individuality and strength appellation for their work than in writing it. Walter Scott himself was reduced to the unmeaning monotony of personal names, in the utter impossibility of discovering a better mode of identification. Rob Roy had already a sort of reputation, and people who had either read Wordsworth's ballad, or otherwise knew of the Scottish freebooter, had some little inkling of what they had to expect. But Waverley, Guy Mannering, Quentin Durward, what ideas did they suggest? Who can gather anything of interest, date, incident, manners, or situation from the mere advertisement of Martin Chuzzlewit, David Copperfield, or Little Dorrit. Nay, before the appearance of the first number, who could tell what Little Dorrit was? Was it a village like Chewton Parva?—or a district of a great city, like Little Britain?-or the diminutive for some gigantic Dorothy?- -or the pet name of a dog?-or, finally, was it man, woman, or child? The world had its choice of all these and many more suppositions besides. But in these instances, as in those of the equally famous novels of the last century, their own immortality invests them with such fitness and propriety that no other title would seem equally appropriate. There appears something actually Shandean in the name of Shandy itself. Tom Jones, by any other name, might have been a Methodist preacher, and Robinson Crusoe never have had a thought of the sea. And this eternal fitness of things holds good of the names of the subordinate personages of the tale, no less than of the title of the book. Just observe how the whole continuity of the story is destroyed, if for a moment, and by a painful effort of the will, you think of Crusoe's companion as his man Saturday, Monday, Wednesday! It is evident nothing will do but Friday. You might as well talk of John Bull as Thomas-a thing altogether impossible and absurd. But this is only the case in works of supereminent skill. As to Lady Edith Brabazon de Belcour, in the Fashion and Passion of a distinguished authoress of the present day, you will see at once that she would be equally noble, equally witty, and equally fascinating, if she were Lady Ariana Plantagenet Harroville. Now try Die Vernon. Could she ride, could she talk, could she win as Selina Danvers? Wouldn't she have been masculine in a hat, forward in manner, coarse in mind, if she had not been Diana the pure and elevated, Vernon the high born and graceful? So with Bailie Nicol Jarvie-no other signature could have recalled In the same manner, there has lately been a book not a little talked of in London, by the name of Judkin's Moods.* Mr Judkin, the author, is already well known as a scholar and a painter, an eloquent preacher and excellent man. Has he joined the Lathams and Trenches in their inquiries into the English verb?has he set his talents to work on the subjunctive?— has he thrown any new light on the imperative or indicative? Let us get the book, and become intimate with the history and genealogy of our parts of speech. Wonder on wonder again! It is a volume of sonnets! but sonnets so refined in composition, so poetical in idea, and so various in subject, that they are worth a whole library of pamphlets on the wretched components of 'to be' or 'to have.' This, on the other hand, is bestowing a real benefit under a false address. Can anything be more pleasing in the way of surprise, than to open a book, expecting an explanation of why the imperfect has both a present and a partly past London: Longmans. 1856. signification, and to come on a Lake Picture like the maid are left in the deserted kitchen-unprinthis? One morn awaking at a long-sought place, The same which Walton loved, whose placid face Was reddened by the sunbeam, met my sight An image of pure beauty and of grace. For lo! before my window, jutting far Over the sheeted water, lay asleep In her own lustrous shadow still and deep, A milk-white swan! While yet one lingering star There are moods of the mind in these pages speaking a more touching language than Lindley Murray ever dreamed of, recalling landscapes worthy of Claude or Turner, and shewing how, in the hands of a true master of his art, the simplest incident can awaken thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.' On a Another marvel! We are political-though of no particular party, being open to the best offer from any side, say the governorship of India, or, by way of a gentle sinecure, the embassy to Washington-and we have a great respect for departed statesmen. bookstall at the railway-station we see a nice little volume, evidently full of statistics and diplomacy, parliamentary debates, and the struggles of a great mind to break loose from the trammels of faction; for on the back of it is written in large gold letters the name of Peel.' Ah! how charming it will be to go over again the grand story of the rise and final triumph of an honest man!-the emancipation-the reformthe corn-laws and then the fatal close that left Britannia without a pilot at the helm, when the winds whistled and the billows roared.' Honest man? great statesman?-matchless pilot? It is no such thing! It is the collected poems of Edmund Peel,* one of the sweetest and gentlest minstrels that ever sang in lighted hall, or soothed the ear of beauty in her secret bower. A spirit of Christian charity breathes over all these charmed lines. Listening to sentiments like these, who can trouble himself about the wordy war in St Stephen's, the statecraft and electioneering, and speechifying and mystifying even of the greatest of English ministers? Oh, fortunati agricole! he says, to the happy inhabitants of the 'Fair Island,' which humbler describers call the Isle of Wight: Fortunate ye! who here a refuge find! Dwell unreproved and build your hope on high! Fortunate ye! who those fine cells employ To treasure duly all this earth displays Of beauty, and of bounty, and of joy; Who to the Giver of all good upraise The homage of the heart, continual praise! Happy are ye, who note in tint and tone A natural harmony; who feel the rays Of light and glory over nature thrown On leaf, and fruit, and flower, on stream and sparkling stone! Worst and most audacious impostor of all-brazen as a sturdy gaberlunzie at a farmhouse door when all the men are in the field, and only granny and * London: Rivingtons. 1856. cipled as a begging-letter writer, with his wife in the scarlet fever, and three children lying unburied in the house-here comes a captivating-looking little volume, bearing on its shield the irresistible title, Guide to the Knowledge of Life.* Aha! now are we armed against the tricks of the ring, the swindlings of the bettingstand. How do the Casinos get on?-is the Divan well frequented?-how about Cremorne and the Coal Hole? What a pity this indispensable friend of the Spoon and best companion of the Pump was not written in the time of Moses Primrose, before his remarkable purchase of the spectacles! This is the true simpleton's protector-this, sir, is the shortest way to the knowledge of life.-There isn't a word about tobacco, or Epsom, or Tattersall's, from beginning to end. The book is by Dr Robert James Mann, one of the scientific teachers of the time; sound in knowledge, earnest in purpose, and, above all writers on intricate subjects, gifted with wonderful power of while we take a glance at the sort of life of which he So let us be serious explanation and description. opens to us some of the secrets, and examine what is the kind of knowledge this compendium of learning and science conveys. The book is the tale is evolved before us with the clearness of the Beginning with the lowest forms of organised matter, most lucid order, and the interest of a novel, of the ments of animated nature-the human frame, the opegradual processes conducting to the highest developrations of the mind, and, finally, to decay and death. The life we are taught in this little volume is the life in, the furnishing of all the rooms, and, above all, we live; and there is allusion also to the house we live the mysterious domestic economy of the immortal tenant. Whatever requires to be known of the portions of the body, their functions and uses, the best means for their sustentation and healthful action, is here displayed and intelligible at a glance. in one. Then the analogies between the plant and a manual of anatomy, and physiology, and regimen, all animal are clearly pointed out; the different qualities of food, the reasons of their varying effects: nothing is omitted which can either gratify the curiosity or lecture more potent than the philosophical analysis inform the mind. Never, surely, was temperance of the causes and effects of intoxication contained under the heading 'Drink.' Not that Dr Mann is so churlish as to forbid the use of fermented liquors entirely; but he well fixes the boundary beyond which the convivialist shall not pass without having heavy expiation to pay for his excess. 'When the blood is kept charged with alcohol,' he says, 'this principle acts at first as a powerful excitement to most of the vital organs; but as it is an unnatural and superfluous ingredient of the blood, and is not wanted there, nature hastens to get rid of the noxious intruder as rapidly as she can. She does this by resolving it into carbonic acid and water, and by then pouring these out through the lungs. It is perfectly wonderful how rapidly alcohol is removed from the system in this way. When, however, the alcohol is introduced more rapidly than it can be got rid of, the blood becomes more and more charged with it, and then the alcoholised blood tells upon every part of the frame: the heart begins to beat more quickly and more strongly; the skin grows hot, and exhales abundance of perspiration; the secreting organs pour out more of their ordinary productions than they usually do; the features grow flushed, the eyes brighten, and the powers of the mind are quickened.' But let the social indulger beware. The intellectual powers are deranged under the stimulant influence of alcohol, before any of the more material functions of the body are much interfered with. *London: Jarrold and Sons. 1856. The cerebral masses of the brain are of more exquisite organisation, and are more freely supplied with blood, than the other parts of the body; hence, if the blood be kept charged with alcohol, the quickened thought that is at first produced is changed into confusion. Ideas flow very freely, and gain expression in words, but those words now become foreign to the purpose, and follow each other rapidly and incoherently. The highest faculties of the mind, those of intellect and will, become suspended, even while faculties a degree lower are only roused and excited. Alcohol attaches itself to brainsubstance with peculiar avidity. Animals have had a quantity of spirits poured down their throats, and have then been killed soon afterwards, in order that the effect may be examined; and it has been found that there has been considerably more alcohol in their brains than in any other portion of their body, of equal size.' The dread story is traced to its terrible ending-through the languor and depression which follow the excitement, to the period when the intellectual powers are entirely destroyed for the time; when the sensorial powers are suspended and placed in abeyance, till drunkenness has its final consummation, and the dishonoured grave receives its unconscious guest. 'The fourth stage of intoxication is death. Whether a man recovers from the insensibility of intoxication or not, depends upon the accident of his having swallowed a few drops more or less of the poison, under the load of which all his higher vital privileges are crushed for the time. It only needs that a little more alcohol should be accumulated in the blood, and the spinal cord will be rendered inactive under its stupifying presence, as well as the sensory and intellectual organs; and then the play of the chest, which is kept up by its influence, will be stilled, respiration will cease, venous blood will be sent in addition to the alcohol to where arterial blood ought to flow, and a few failing throbs of the heart will end the life that has been prized so lightly and thrown away so guiltily.' How uniform are the lessons which wisdom teaches, whether furnished from the stores of religion or of science! In this volume, professing to be a guide to the simple scholar, are graspings at the highest and noblest objects of human inquiry, which would task the wisest of our philosophers. If issued in another form, and with more pretentious announcement, it would place Dr Mann on the same level with some of our highest scientific names. As it is, the modesty of his pretension masks the man, as his title masks his book. THE ROCK-TOMBS OF CYRENE. We are most of us familiar with the outline of the Mediterranean coast of Africa. We well remember that our geographies told us of four or five desperate Moorish governments which flourished not long ago to the westward, celebrated for their piracies and slavetrade, the terror and the reproach of Christendom; we also recollect that these pirates were severely punished by Lord Exmouth in 1816, and that subsequently a large tract of the country was conquered and colonised by the French; we further knew, that on the utmost verge of the east, Egypt lay like a stretch of verdure lining the banks of the Nile. But our books informed us nothing of that considerable district which extended between Tripoli and Egypt; although anciently this lengthy region, bounded by the sea and the Velpa Mountains, was covered with flourishing cities, possessed a numerous population, and carried on an extensive commerce in ivory, gold, precious stones, ostrich-feathers, and slaves. To make up for this omission, we have a very interesting volume before us, written by Mr James Hamilton, describing a tour he has recently been making along the coast of this portion of Africa, and through the mountains that enclose the grand Desert of Barca. He left Malta in 1852, for Bengazi, the principal seaport on the Gulf of Sidra. From thence to Cyrene, all is barren; it was therefore necessary to take in a good store of provisions, and be provided with a faithful guide. He accordingly bought two wretched horses-wretched because he could get no better-for himself and servant, hired a quick-stepping camel-ridden by a young Arab, who officiated as coffee-maker and pipe-filler-to carry a light tent, carpets, and other articles required during the day, and other camels for conveying the remainder of the baggage, including a large tent, crowbars, pickaxes, and other instruments for excavation, with waterskins, and six days' allowance of barley for the horses. The feast of Ramadhan prevented our traveller's leaving Bengazi for a month; but orders were given to set forward on the morrow of the Bairam. This happened to fall on a Wednesday, a day deemed unlucky in the calendar of the Moslems; and no quantity or quality of arguments could induce the guides and Arab attendants to commence the journey on that day. Thursday afternoon was therefore appointed; but fate and the Arabs decreed that the start should not take place until Saturday morning, by which time Mr Hamilton managed to overcome the natural dilatoriness of the Arab character in his servants. The route lay through that sort of country familiar to most readers of African travels-that is to say, through a rough, sandy, rocky, parched plain, with scanty vegetation, and here and there a beautiful green spot. Of course, the wells were objects of great attraction, but these were few and far between. Sometimes the ruins of a marabut or tower, situated on an eminence not far from the track of the caravan, would invite inspection; sometimes a company of Bedouins might be seen skirting the horizon like a small cloud, or gathered in groups round the margins of the wells; whilst the uncertainty whether their intent were wicked or charitable added much to the excitement and interest of the scene. Beyond Baidar, the ground was carpeted with a short grass of a greenish-yellow hue, and dotted with thorny plants whose bursting leaf regaled the eye with its rich and lively green colour. Of the remainder of the journey to Cyrene, part was composed of a range of low undulating hills, offering, according to our author's description, some of the most lovely silvan scenery in the world. The country was like a most beautifully arranged English garden, or rather lawn, covered with pyramidal clumps of evergreens, variously disposed, as if by the hand of the most refined taste; while bosquets of juniper and cedar trees, relieved by the pale olive and the bright green of the tall arbutus-tree, afforded a most grateful shade from the mid-day sun. The immediate approach, however, to Cyrene became desert again, and long avenues of tombs, hewn in or out of the rock, lined the road, until the ruined towers of the old citywalls led into the midst of the town, where a narrow gorge opened up a magnificent view over plains and hills to the blue Mediterranean. Mr Hamilton then sought out the cave whence the perennial spring of Cyre gushed forth-a spring scarcely less celebrated than the celebrated fountain of Arethusa-and having quaffed of its bright cool waters, pitched his tent close by. It was natural that our traveller should seek out this spot first: it was the existence of this spring that determined the early immigrants to found a city on the site; and when the city was in the zenith of its prosperity, the principal public buildings were grouped round it. The stream of water, however, which the fountain supplies has greatly diminished in volume |