THE BOYS AND THE BOOKS. THE operations of the missionaries at Bangalore, says the Rev. W. Arthur, are aided by a Tract Society, and a Schoolbook Society. I had the pleasure of being present at the formation of the latter, which has for its object the preparation of valuable school-books in Canarese, as also to keep on sale a stock of Tamul and English school-books, with various articles of stationery; thus affording the natives every facility for the pursuit of education. This Society has proceeded with great vigour and success. They have published many valuable works, and brought others into circulation. This is a field of labour eminently important; for even where no more direct Christian agencies can act upon the people, their own vicious books may be supplanted, and their youth, instead of wading through filthy mythology, receive solid information cast in a Christian mould. This is not so difficult as might be supposed. The native books are written on the leaves of the palmyra tree, which are from nine to eighteen inches long, and from two to three broad. Each leaf is pierced with a round hole, through which runs a cord, serving to bind them all together, but permitting them to be held loosely when the book is used. They can only be multiplied by copying; and the writing is performed by an iron style, like a large skewer, which is held upright in the hand, and scrapes marks on the soft leaf. The writer proceeds rapidly; his letters are well formed; and though both sides of the leaf are deeply indented, there is never a perforation. But however you may admire the scribe, his book-making is slow and expensive; and, when finished, it is a clumsy thing, compared with the compact and beautiful production of the printer. In elegance, portableness, and economy, the European book at once asserts its superiority. The natives are sensible of this: they admire it amazingly. It is as great an advance in literature, as in travelling the locomotive is on the stage-coach. They covet a book; and I have seen them, on receiving one, squat them down then and there, and begin to pore over those pages so mysteriously multiplied, and yet so unaccountably correct. With adequate funds and agencies, it would not be difficult to introduce our school-books into almost every native school in the country. A proper system of colportage would effect it. One day a fine Brahmin boy came into my study at Goobbee, and asked for a book; I denied him; but he repeatedly urged his request. I still declined; saying, my few books must be kept for grown persons, as boys were likely to misuse them. He would not be refused. I said, “If you are so anxious to have our books, why do you not come to our school?" He replied, with vivacity, "I wish to do so, but my father will not let me. “Then, to what school do you go?" He mentioned one, of which the master had always evinced the utmost bigotry, strenuously resisting all our attempts to approach either himself or his scholars. I then asked, "What are you reading at school?" "Just at present we are reading 'Strictures on Hindooism;"" that being a tract by Mr. Rice, of Bangalore, ably exposing the sins and follies of that system, of which this boy was born a priest. On another occasion, I was preaching under shade of a jack-fruit tree, (artocarpus integrifolia,) in the market-place of a town called Biddiri. On my left arm was a pile of tracts and portions of Scripture, intended for distribution. At the close of a long discourse, I began to give away the books, when almost every hand and voice in the crowd was raised. Men and boys strained and shouted to gain a book. Low salaams, huge compliments, and right lofty titles were lavished upon me, in hope of catching my attention. "Can you read?" I would ask one. "Yes, I can read;" and, seizing the book I handed, he would begin, in a low recitative, to show his scholarship. "Can you read?" I would ask another. "Yes." But when told to do so,--" No, I cannot read; but my son can.' In the crowd I observed a tall country lad plying elbows and shoulders with all imaginable spirit, in the vain hope of forcing a passage. At length, despairing of success, he reached over the shoulders of a man, and cried, at the top of his voice, "Sir, sir, you must keep one for me, sir! yes, you must keep one for me. Amused at his earnestness, I said, “ Why one for you, above all others?" "Oh, sir, we want it for our school; we want it for our school." This at once arrested my attention; and he told me that he lived in a village some miles distant, in which a missionary had never been; that some of their people had got books from us during a former visit to Biddiri market; that these had been introduced to the school instead of those in use before; that they were wonderfully pleased with their boodhi-" sense;" but that they wanted some more to complete the set; and the schoolmaster hearing that we had been at Cheyloor, a neighbouring town, the day before, concluded we should be that day at Biddiri, and accordingly had sent him on purpose to obtain them. These instances show how easily the Christian school-book may gain access, even where both master and pupils are heathens. Could such a society as the Bangalore School-book Society only command funds, to send their publications through every village in the country, offering them for sale at very low prices, it is most probable the people would greedily receive them, and that they would go far towards paving the way for the advance of Christianity. BRISTOL. THOSE who visit Bristol, with nothing further in view than making it a startingplace to the varied scenes of beauty and magnificence which lie beyond it, would probably designate it as a bustling, dirty, and uninteresting locality; because, in proportion to the amount of pleasure we are expecting to derive from other scenes and objects, is the estimate we attach to those in the midst of which we stand, and which are not unfrequently far more worthy of our admiration and regard, than is supposed at a first or hurried glance. Let us halt, then, ere we pursue our intended route, and look at this city, not in comparison with others, although this might fairly be done, but in order to ascertain what are its just claims on our attention and remembrance. Bristol is a sea-port, situated at the confluence of the Avon and Frome, eight miles north-west of the embouchure of the former, in the Bristol Channel, and one hundred and eight miles west of London, extending over six or seven hills, and their immediate valleys, while it is surrounded by a most picturesque, fertile, and salubrious district. At a very early period, its healthy and advantageous situation was discovered by the Saxons and the Romans, both of whom had a town here of considerable importance. By the former it was called Bright Stowe, or the "Pleasant City;" and thence, with a slight alteration, its present name. In the older portions forming the nucleus of the modern city, the houses were neatly built of wood and plaster, with their roofs projecting considerably over exceedingly narrow streets, like some of those at Cairo, in Egypt; bringing them in very close contact with their opposite neighbours, and rendering such localities very confined and unhealthy. These, however, are now greatly diminished in number, and open streets, well-built houses, and spacious squares, are far more frequently to be met with. Those of Kingsdown, St. Michael's, and Clifton hills on the north and west, with their fine terraces, and well-arranged gardens, rising one above the other, like an amphitheatre, present a very imposing appearance. Redcliffe, on the south, has narrow streets, densely crowded together, like those of the ancient part of the city; but Bedminster consists of more modern dwellings, small, yet neat, many of which are adapted to the working classes. But whatever may still remain of the objectionable attaching to the ancient city, it will always find a palliative in the breast of Englishmen since it was here that the commerce of their country first put forth its strength. Among the many advantages of which the present city can boast, may be reckoned, its well-paved streets, which are also lighted with gas, supplied for the purpose by two public companies; its excellent drainage, which, in such a dense population, is of vast moment to its health and comfort; and also an adequate supply of water, conducted by pipes to many public conduits and pumps. Its institutions, civil and religious, are very numerous. It has twenty-five churches of the established worship, of different orders of architecture, some ancient Gothic, and others handsome modern structures. St. Mary's church, Redcliffe, is perhaps the most beautiful specimen of the former to be found in the kingdom. It was built by Channing, in the reign of Henry vi.; and from the traces of time on its exterior, it excites a feeling of veneration which is better felt than described; and when the eye ranges with delight over its tall, tapering columns, its richly-fretted roofs, and its magnificent window, whose dimensions are such as to admit a flood of rich and yet softened light to stream down its aisles and up to its altar, showing to great advantage a painting of Hogarth's, in his very best style-the effect of the whole is indeed beautiful and imposing. The monuments are also very fine, particularly that of William Penn. The cathedral stands at the northwestern extremity of the town, which, although in a dilapidated state, presents some fine remains of the pure regal architecture of an earlier age. The old oaken choir is much admired, and equals, if not surpasses, that of Ripon. An object of great interest is the old Gothic arch, called the West-gate, nearly adjoining the cathedral; the only one remaining of the ancient city; the scarcely distinguishable statues of kings, which in years gone by constituted its principal ornaments, alone give any idea of its pristine importance or beauty. Relentless Time, with stern, remorseless hand, And life itself must yield at length to him. The Dissenters, of various denominations, have at least thirty-six places of worship, and form a very important part of the community of this populous city; There are no fewer than twelve endowed charity schools: the Free Grammar-school, founded in 1532, which has two fellowships of 30%. a year, in St. John's, Oxford; Elizabeth's Hospital, founded in 1586, whose endowments are said to produce 4,000l. a year, managed by trustees appointed by the lord chancellor; the Redcliffe Free Grammar-school, founded in the 13th of Elizabeth; Colston's, in 1708, for feeding, clothing, and educating one hundred boys; and eight others. In the whole, it has been calculated that above two hundred boys and forty girls are wholly maintained, educated, and apprenticed; ninety boys and eightyeight girls clothed and educated, and one hundred and forty-eight educated only. Besides these, there are thirty-five other schools, supported either wholly or partially by benefactions and public subscriptions, in which upwards of three thousand children are educated, and upwards of ten thousand receive instruction in the Sunday-schools of the various denominations. Of endowed charitable institutions the principal are, the Trinity Alms-house, with a chapel annexed; it maintains ten old men and thirty-six women, and its endowments produce, a year, 7007. Another of Foster's, the Temple Hospital, the Merchants' Alms-houses, Colston's, Ridley's, Blanchard's, and several others of minor importance, endowed to the amount of about 23,000l. a year, which sum is judiciously distributed among the children of necessity and want. To tradesmen alone 6,000l. annually are lent, in different amounts, as the cases may require, and for terms long or short, according to circumstances, without interest. Among the indigent poor 9,000l. are expended in the year; 1,000l. among the endowed hospitals, and 7007. among the endowed schools. The Bristol Infirmary is capable of accommodating two hundred patients, and has, it is stated by good authority, at an annual average, one thousand six hundred in, and five thousand out-patients: this institution is supported partly by its own funded property, and partly by subscriptions and donations. Besides these, there are the General Hospital, a smaller establishment, but supported on a similar principle; and the Dispensary, which gives medical relief to above three thousand annually at their own abodes. There are asylums for the blind, for orphans, a Female Penitentiary, and between forty and fifty other charitable societies, which distribute in various ways from 12,0007. to 15,000l. annually. The public buildings of Bristol are principally the Guildhall, more useful, perhaps, than ornamental, being an old structure of the fourteenth century, with a modern front. The Council-house, a modern building; the Jail, a large and well-arranged structure, erected about twenty-seven years since; the Bridewell, which at the time of the riots was destroyed, and subsequently rebuilt; the Exchange, a handsome building of the Corinthian order, erected by the corporation in 1743, but never being used by the merchants, the interior was appropriated as a corn-market, and the back forms a spacious quadrangle, in which the principal market is held; and the Commercial Rooms, which are used as an exchange, have a handsome dome, an Ionic portico, a large hall, a good reading-room, and several other apartments adapted to the transactions of business. The British Institution, another handsome building, has an excellent readingroom, library, theatre, and museum: in the latter are good collections in natural history and the fine arts; here, courses of lectures are given, papers on philosophical subjects read, and occasion-. ally there are exhibitions of pictures. There is also one of those most valuable institutions, the Institution for Mechanics. May it not be hoped that such institu tions have tended to raise the tastes of the lower classes of society, and to give a tone to their morals, which, in many instances, by degrees, improves their habits; and, with the blessing of God, without which all efforts are vain, prepares the way for a desire to search after the true wisdom, which not only fits its possessors for the duties and pleasures of life, but for the more exalted and everlasting felicities of heaven? There is an extensive library, containing thirty thousand volumes on general literature; there are, also, law and medical libraries; a medical school, where are given complete courses of lectures; a proprietary school, called the Bristol College, for classical and scientific education, and an academy for the education of young men of the Baptist ministry, which has in conjunction with it an extensive library and museum. The About two miles from Bristol, overlooking the river Avon, is Clifton, famous for its hot wells-its waters being deemed efficacious in consumptive cases. temperature of this saline spring, when fresh drawn, is 74° Fahr., and it then evolves free carbonic acid; in each pint of the water, according to Dr. Carrick, there are 3.5 grs. carbonate of lime, 1.5 sulphate of soda, 1.5 ditto of lime, 5 muriate of soda, 1 ditto of magnesia: total 6 grains. The above spring is under the rocks, and there is another higher up the cliff, having however most probably the same source. ། The geological features of the place are thus described by M'Culloch :—“ If the entire area be divided, north and south, into three unequal portions, that on the east will fall within the limits of a coal formation, which extends north and south of the city, but chiefly to the north, about thirty miles; its beds are thin as compared with those of other coal-fields. The central, or larger portion, is chiefly occupied by the new red sandstone, in which Saurian remains occur; the western part is chiefly mountain lime. Some of the summits in the north and west parts of the city are two hundred and fifty feet above the bed of the Avon. In the rocks of Clifton, and the opposite ones of St. Vincent, quartz crystals of great purity occur, called Bristol Diamonds. There are the remains of three Roman encampments at Clifton, Rownham, and Abbotsleigh." The rocky scenery of Clifton is very fine; at the base of beetling cliffs, and through overhanging defiles, rushes in, with tides of thirty-five feet, the beauteous Avon, which, in so many other places, flows calmly and gracefully along, reflecting on its surface the lovely and picturesque scenery which so frequently adorns its banks. This spot is heightened in its interests by our associations with it of Mrs. Hannah More, who passed here the closing years of her very useful life, and left a name which, if not enrolled among the mightiest in intellect, is deservedly ranked with the most distinguished for Christian philanthropy and exalted piety. Her own sex especially must ever revere her memory, as among the first to enter upon a field of labour calculated to improve the female mind, and thus to raise woman in the scale of being designed her by her Creator, combining in her lessons every branch of useful knowledge, while she "Allured to brighter worlds and led the way." With such delightful scenery in our imagination, and our minds impressed with remembrance of her who dwelt among it, to whom, when in comparative health, it had often proved stimulating; and when borne down by languor and fast-approaching dissolution, it perhaps afforded a tranquillizing influence, we cannot but call to mind the appropriate sentiments of a favourite writer of the leave of Clifton, thus gave utterance to sister country, who, when taking her her pure and glowing thoughts : "Spot where the sick recover, and the well Here we stand, To take our last farewell of England's shore, Remember'd by that sex whom long she strove I give thee thanks, Old England! full of years, S. S. S. OLD HUMPHREY IN THE HIGHLANDS. An ancient man with tresses grey, INTRODUCTION. OFTEN have I written about the country, revelling in rural localities and retired situations; but now in my remarks I purpose to go further afield, and to dwell on wilder and more solitary scenes. In my youthful days, frequently was I animated by romantic impulses, under which I would fain have effected impossibilities. To have ascended the summit of Mont Blanc, regardless of its snows to have forced my way undaunted through the icy barriers of the North Sea-to have crossed the burning desert despite its sultry sands, and to have penetrated to Timbuctoo, reckless of the Lybian lion, and the fear of falling where the blood of "the white man tinged the running waters, would have been quite in accordance with my inclination. Such impulses, however, were but transitory; succeeding moments of sobriety convinced me that such speculations were not prompted by discretion; the Quixotic achievements of my fancy were abandoned, and I entered with moderated ardour on easier and less questionable undertakings. With an emotion somewhat akin to the romantic impulses of my earlier days, I some time ago resolved on a tour. Never had I visited the far-famed Highlands of Scotland, though the plaid and kilt of the highlander, and the romantic haunts of the Rob Roys and Macgregors of days gone by, had often excited my fancy, and flitted before my wondering and admiring eyes. To Scotland I turned my steps, fully intending to give to my fugitive wanderings and passing reflections a "local habitation and a name " in some forthcoming volume of moderate size and pretensions. Since then my tour has been completed, and I am now about to enter on my intended narrative. Difficult would it be to persuade me that I shall not succeed in awakening some interest in the minds of my readers. In my present sanguine mood, I should as soon believe that I could not make a nosegay out of pinks and pansies, fuschias, jasmines, and gera niums, lilies, mignonette, sweet peas, myrtles, and moss roses, as that I could fail in penning a tolerable book while revelling, with a head and heart full of highland scenery, among the heathery hills and dales of "bonnie Scotland." Even now appear spread out before me, awing my spirit, the solitary, wild, grey mountain and gloomy glen! Friths, lochs, cataracts, straths and passes, rocks, rifts, ravines and cairns arrest my wondering gaze with their influential loneliness. The falls of Aberfeldy bewilder me with their wondrous beauty. Loch Lomond stretches its glittering surface to the sun, and mighty Cairn Gorm and still mightier Ben Mac Dhu lift their snowclad heads in lonely grandeur and awful sublimity. Though not sanguine enough to believe that I can render my book acceptable to all, I do hope to make it agreeable to some, and if it should not in its attractions glitter like the Athenian serpent -"of dazzling hue, Vermilion-spotted, golden, green, and blue; Striped like a zebra, freckled like a pard, Eyed like a peacock, and all crimson-barr'd," yet doubt I not that some of its pages will be read with interest, and some of its paragraphs pondered with satisfaction. Scenery of a sterile kind and difficult of access has a strange interest with many, and some of the wildest parts of our country are to be found in the Highlands of Scotland. With his foot on the heather beside the lonely loch, or on the mountain, the crook-billed eagle soaring above his head, and the red deer bounding across the broken ground below, as he flies to the friendly shelter of the pine forest, or the solitary glen, a man feels himself to be far from home, and regards himself as a traveller. The loneliness of far-stretching solitudes, now rising into hills, and now spreading into valleys, mantled with purple and gold, at the same moment awe and delight the mind; and the silent heath-clad strath and the dreary swamp, tenanted by the timid hare, the feathery grouse, the black cock and the wild duck, awaken an unwonted interest of mingled solemnity and pleasure. It would not be easy to describe the solemnity cast over the spirit by the deep shadows of the gloomy glen, nor to make manifest the admiration and joy that burst upon the spirit when climbing the sunlit mountain. A thousand charms |