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arbutus, whose branches bent down to the surface of the water, and were kissed by the tiny waves which the rapid progress of our boat created. After rowing for about two miles we came to a place called "Coleman's Eye," the commencement of the narrow passage along which the waters of the Upper Lake rush to the lower. It is about thirty feet in width, and as the force of the current here is necessarily very great, much care is requisite in rounding the jutting promontory. Our boatmen were very alert, and we passed in safety. On this rock they pointed out to us some gigantic footmarks, said to have been formed by the person whose name is given to the spot, who once leaped over the stream. With whatever superstitious veneration such objects may have been regarded, and in many parts of Ireland they are so still by the most ignorant of the peasantry, our guides thought very little of them, save as objects of curiosity.

After rowing for another mile along this contracted part of the lake, we reached a bend in the stream, and at length suddenly stopped. The boatmen laid on their oars, and their leader rose from his seat and leaped ashore. In answer to our inquiry, why they did not proceed? the men requested us to sit still for a while, and the cause would be explained. A huge perpendicular rock rose on our left in shape like a pyramid, covered with moss, and ivy, and branches of trees, whose roots lay hidden deep within its fissures. On the opposite bank was a small rising ground, broken and wild. Behind this the boatman disappeared; and the visitors sat looking at each other, half expectant, half wondering. pointed to the lofty cliff, to ask its name,

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for almost all the rocks have some designation, but an expressive, lowbreathed "Hush!" silenced the questioner, and filled all with eager curiosity. Suddenly, a mellow sound rose on the air-a bugle note blown by our unseen guide. So sweet, so plaintive was it, that it fell soothingly on the spirit. Before an exclamation could be uttered, another sound was heard, but surely not of earth! We started. Another! and another! Whence came those aerial voices, so thrilling, so exquisitely soft, so rich, so subduing, dissolving the soul into ecstasy, making our very being feel a bliss? One other yet! and yet more musical, but less distinct;

"In linked sweetness long drawn out;"

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dying along the distant mountains, until it melted away, in a low, delicious cadence, of the most ravishing melody. It was as if a band of glorious angels, floating there, were hymning on their harps the anthems of heaven;" and these marvellous sounds were as the last faintlybreathed notes of that spirit-train. sat spell-bound: the heart heaving with deep, unutterable emotions. Again the bugle spoke, and its three or four notes were again repeated, sweeter, softer, more subduing, as they receded in the distance; mournfully musical, as if they sorrowed to pass away. The very remembrance of that hour, as it rises on the mind while I write, is most exciting. Then, all I could do was to weep. Those echoes spoke of the spirit-land afar off, where every sound is melodious, and all the air is love; and the heart longed for the hour when all its evil and unquiet passions would be hushed in an everlasting sleep, and when the soul, purified by the precious blood of Christ, and sanctified by the Divine Spirit, should rise to share in the blessedness of the family of God. If there be such sweetness in nature's harmonies; and if such the delight of listening to them, who shall describe the rapture of those who hear and join in the universal song of the kingdom of grace and glory, Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honour, and glory, and blessing.'

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After we had been permitted for some time to sit in silence, abandoning ourselves to the influence of the hour, a cannon was fired from the bank. If the effect of the bugle was subduing, this was most rousing. Its deep reverberations, as they rolled along, were answered by a thousand voices on all sides; now apparently from the very depths of the mountain, and then from the loftiest peaks; rattling, rolling; now loud, now low; at one moment with a solitary echo, and then in a rushing confused reply of a host of echoes. The Eagle Rock took up the chorus peal, and Torc mountain hurled it back; Glena and Purple and Tomies repeated the thunder tones, and old Mangerton sullenly replied, as if angry at the invasion of his dreary solitude: then, when we thought it had ceased, far, far away, as if from another sphere, came the repeat once more. It was as though all the thunder clouds of the region had burst in a series of tremendous crashes, with a violence enough

to rend the mountains, or shake them to their solid base. Such an accumulation of deafening peals I never heard. The roaring of artillery was feeble in comparison. And these were the far-famed echoes of the Eagle's Nest! Fame had not exaggerated here. No language can be extravagant in the description.

which is the commencement of the Upper Lake. On our left, embosomed in trees, was the pretty cottage of lady Kenmare, and in front of that, a lawn of the most exquisite green I ever beheld. Justly as Ireland is designated the Emerald Isle, in the whole course of my wanderings in that country I never met with anything that could bear a comparison with this spot for its glorious verdure. It reminded me of Watts' beautiful lines on the "better country," where

"Everlasting spring abides,

And never withering flowers ;"

"Stand dress'd in living green."

After lingering for some time, we at length reluctantly departed. The channel still continued narrow, until we reached Dinis island. Just before we came to this beautiful spot, we had to disembark, that the boat might the better shoot through the old Weir Bridge, which, with its two arches, here spans the stream. and where the fields There is some danger in this passage on account of the great force and rapidity of the current; for through this confined channel the whole of the waters of the Upper Lake pour themselves into Torc lake, and there are rocks on either side just beyond the bridge, against which it requires great skill and coolness on the part of the boatmen to guard; for, at the rate the water bears them along, to strike would be instantly to capsize the boat. We were requested to get out, because the depth of water was not now sufficient for a heavily laden bark. One of our companion boats with two ladies and as many rowers, the former evidently desirous to dare the danger, passed us as we were disembarking; and getting into the current, shot through in gallant style and perfect safety. All that is required on the part of visitors is to sit still: the men are so used to their employment, that an accident rarely, if ever, happens. They stand at the head of the boat with a boathook to keep clear of the rocks, and the stream itself bears them along.

Dinis island is at the very entrance to Torc lake, and divides the waters into two channels. Its eastern shore forms one boundary to the Middle lake, and with Brikeen island almost disjoins it from the Upper one. On Dinis island is a small cottage, where parties dine, who have taken the precaution either to order dinners there from the hotel, or who have brought provision with them. Our courageous lady companions with their friends had done this, but we had not been so provident and therefore went on. We rowed along the narrow passage between Dinis island and Glena mountain, not visiting Tore lake at all, although we had subsequently a fine view of it from the mountain of the same name, and in a few minutes were in Glena bay,

The view from this cottage is most magnificent. We had it now before us. The whole expanse of the lower lake stretched itself out like a silver mirror, with islands in all directions, diversifying its surface, and rocks of all shapes and sizes; some of them bearing the name of the celebrated chieftain, O'Donoghue, who once inhabited this part of Ireland, and from fancied resemblances are called his horse, his library, his table, prison, etc. This chief is a prime personage in the legends and tales that abound among the peasantry, some of them partaking very largely of the marvellous. Our boatmen repeated several of them, but evidently believed them as little as we did.

After leaving Glena, we rowed towards Ross Island, and on our way thither found that the wind, which at first had scarcely ruffled the surface of the lake, had much risen. It very often comes down the mountains with great violence, and lashes the waves into white foam-it did so now. Our boat soon began to rock and plunge, and a little alarm was depicted upon the countenance of some lady voyagers. Presently a large wave dashed over the bows of the boat, near which I was sitting, and completely saturated me. Instead of being commiserated, the boatmen were profuse in their congratulations, assuring me of good fortune, as I had just received "O'Donoghue's blessing." In about a quarter of an hour we reached Innisfallen, the low arch of whose ancient chapel was dimly seen through the thick foliage that covers this beautiful island. All that has been said or sung in praise of this charming spot is by no means exaggerated. Nature and art have combined to invest it with a loveliness, that affects the mind like a

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low plaintive melody, stealing on the ear | mingled magnificence and loveliness of in the twilight of a summer's eve. The this enchanting spot. Equally impossirichness and softness of the verdure; the ble is it for any pictorial representation luxuriance of the trees; the venerable- to convey, to one who has not visited it, ness of the abbey's shattered walls; the a just idea of the place. I had made stillness of the place, broken only by the myself familiar with the splendid ensweet notes of birds hidden in a spray gravings of Mrs. Hall's "Ireland," and of leaves;" or the humming of insects read and re-read the admirable descripfloating on the straggling sunbeams, that tions-which are almost as perfect as it found their way through the dense thicket is possible to be-yet, when I saw Kilof boughs and branches, and gilded the larney, in the summer gorgeousness, and green sward beneath them; conspired to pomp and pride of its majestic beauty, I produce a state of feeling in harmony felt, as any one acquainted with the lakes with all that is peaceful, beautiful, divine. | will feel, who reads these lines, that they Passing by Mouse Island, we rowed had been, and ever must be, imperfectly along the northern shores of Ross, which set before us, no matter what the skill at every few yards presented some na- of the artist, or how elaborate soever tural object of attention, and at length the attempts of the most practised pen. disembarked in safety under the walls of Of all the celebrated scenes, it has been the castle. Our boatmen, who were to a my pleasant lot to visit on either side of man tee-totallers of the stricter sort, re- St. George's Channel, this is the only quested an extra shilling to drink "their place that has exceeded my expectahonours' health in a cup of coffee;" an tions. My preference to it, above all appeal that was very readily responded other spots, I found was by no means to, and which response met with a most singular. Many of the tourists whom I profuse acknowledgment. met in Ireland-and this year I was informed their number was greater than ever-were unanimous in their suffrages in favour of Killarney, above all other places in the British Isles. Within a year or two, the facilities for reaching it will be so greatly increased, that I doubt not many more, who are able to enjoy a few weeks of relaxation away from home, will embrace the opportunity of judging for themselves, whether the language employed in describing these scenes has any taint of exaggeration, or whether these are but the "words of truth and soberness.” T. A.

Ross Castle is a very interesting feature in the scenery of the lakes, whether seen from the water or from the land. Towards the west, its square embattled tower is covered with ivy; and on either side of it there is sufficient ruin to give the place a very venerable air. It belonged to the O'Donoghues; and from its windows, the peasants say, the celebrated chieftain leaped into the lake, beneath whose waters he resides, in a splendid palace, revisiting the scenes of his former sway at stated periods. But all these legends are fast passing away from among the people. This island, which is the largest of the lakes, is formed into a kind of half park, half garden, with gravel walks running in all directions towards the shores, where are obtained diversified views of the glorious scenery around. There are copper mines here, but the owners have long ceased to work them. After wandering about until we were fairly tired-again and again returning to the borders of the lake to take a parting look-we at length found our way back to the town of Killarney, which is about a mile from Ross Castle.

And thus ended this exciting day. Within its short compass, I had seen and heard more that was marvellous, than in any previous day of my existence. As I now read over what I have written, I am forcibly struck with the utter incompetency of words fully to describe the

THE LIGHT OF SALVATION.

THE mind may be illumined without the heart being changed; but that light is only the light of the moon, though sometimes beautifully clear, it is always without warmth; but the light of salvation resembles the light of the sun, it warms and influences the heart, and causes it to bring forth fruit; its beneficial influences are seen and felt in the walk and conversation of all those who are thus savingly enlightened by the Holy Spirit.-Marsh.

GOD AS WITNESS.

GOD is a witness in his omniscience, that he may be a Judge in his righteousness.-Charnock.

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THE BEDOUINS.

Scene in the Desert.

THE traveller is struck to this day with the unalterable character of Ishmaelitish manners. It is, for instance, nearly sun-set, and he is in the midst of an Arab encampment. Sheep, asses, and cattle approach it from afar, under the guardianship of young boys, and the maidens go forth to milk. Meanwhile the more aged females prepare the evening meal, consisting of heaps of rice, having butter thinly poured upon them, piled upon circular wooden dishes; while the young and old men are prostrate on the floor, pouring forth their prayers, with their unsheathed swords lying before them. With the murmur of their petitions, the bellowing of camels, the braying of asses, the bleating of sheep and goats, and the deep bark of the shepherd dog are mingled.

The traveller now approaches; a female
FEBRUARY, 1847.

goes forth to him; he asks for water, and what is the reply? "O stranger! our encampment affords no water, but milk we freely offer to you." She immediately returns to the tent, and though it may deprive her own family of the evening meal, she again appears, and gracefully presents the bowl to the traveller. He drinks, and with the usual and appropriate phrase, "May safety be with you!" he returns the vessel and resumes his journey. How little aid from fancy is required in such circumstances to transport the mind to the days of the patriarchs, when Ishmael roamed over the same spot, or when the tents of Judah were spread about these plains, and Moses tended the flocks of Jethro!

Could we listen to their language, examine their garments, partake of their food, enter their tents, attend the ceremonies of their marriage feasts, and pre

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sent ourselves before the chief, we should find that still all is the same. The aged men sit in dignity; at the wells the people water their flocks; they are found at the door of the tent in the cool of the day; they place the calf which they have dressed before the stranger; they move onward to some distant place, and pitch their tent nearer richer pasturage; and all the treasures they possess are in camels, kine, sheep, and goats, men-servants and women-servants, and changes of raiment. "As we look on," says a traveller, " we are almost ready to ask if such an one be not Abraham, or Lot, or Jacob, or Job, or Bildad the Shuhite, or Rebekah, or Rachael, or the daughter of Jethro the Midianite; we seem to know them all. The mountains, and valleys, and streams partake of the same unchangeableness; not a stone has been removed, not a barrier has been raised, not a tree has been planted, not a village has been called together. Could Ishmael come again to the earth, he would recognise without effort his own people and his own land."-From The Arab, just published by the Religious Tract Society.

CAXTON, THE PRINTER.

No. I.

THE art of printing was brought into England by William Caxton, and while we would give all due praise to its originators, yet for him should be reserved a higher guerdon who brought his own genius to bear upon the materials already in existence and thus to carry out to a much farther extent the great design of his predecessors.

This remarkable man was born in the weald of Kent, which at that period was more like a barren waste than many spots so denominated in our days. Who would have looked for such a man as William Caxton among a herd of unlettered men in an all but barbarous region? and yet this was his birth-place, and his first seminary, if we may so designate the tutorship he here received, which was not so much from teachers as from the musings of his own precocious mind. He had no sooner profited himself by the acquisition of knowledge than he sought to communicate to others the blessing which he so prized, and he did so by simplifying what he wrote so as to make it intelligible and easy to those who had not received equal advantages

a rare display of kindness of spirit and of zeal to diffuse useful information.

The exact date of Caxton's apprenticeship to Robert Large, a member of the Mercers' Company, is uncertain, but it is generally supposed to have been about 1428, in the reign of Henry the Sixth. At first sight it seems a strange position for William Caxton to fill, whose delight was in literary pursuits, but the business arrangements of those days rendered it not ineligible to the acquirement of knowledge, since in the way of his daily occupations some degree of practical acquaintance with books was attainable. The mercers of those days were essentially merchants, and dealt in almost every commodity, books not excepted. Caxton, therefore, whose tastes and energies were thrown largely into one scale would naturally avail himself of every opportunity for gratifying his favourite inclination, and, with his abilities, profit beyond youth of his age; and we find that he did so. After the death of his master, Caxton went abroad, and collected all the information within his reach relative to printing, and it is supposed, that about the year 1470, he came to London, set up his presses, and carried on his operations in the Alinonry of Westminster Abbey, where, considering the infancy of the typographic art, he printed a great number of books.

The types with which this eminent man printed were peculiar, being that mixture of the Secretary and Gothic shape; the size now known among printers as Great Primer. Caxton had, as assistants, several excellent workmen. Wynkin de Woorde, a Dutchman, whose indefatigable perseverance would have made him master any difficulty, however mountainous; Richard Pynson, of an equally zealous, but less hopeful and courageous disposition; and William Machlinai, timid and calculating spirit, although not less fondly attached to his master, or the art in which he was engaged. The two former, after Caxton's death, became printers in London, of some reputation. It has been conjectured that the Scriptorium of Westminster abbey, where books formerly were transcribed, was assigned to Caxton to carry on the art, and although many were the difficulties he had to contend with, yet he met with considerable encouragement from many religious societies. As early as 1480, books were printed at St. Albans, and in 1525, there

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