was now writing on both sides for the sake of bread? Did she see the thunder-cloud gathering that was to burst in a deluge of tears and put out the shining hopes of the doting mother and loving sister?

The dazzle of the illuminations and bonfires which blazed in honour of every triumph of Wilkes, fascinated poor William Bingley, the bookseller of the Strand, who, on May 10th, 1768, brought out No. 47 of the North Briton, and got committed to Newgate on an attachment on July 1st. Chatterton had at the last looked forward with hope to being made a martyr, but no such fortune fell to his lot; Bingley really got a grievance, but did not make skilful use of it. On November 7th he was committed to the King's Bench for not giving bail to answer interrogatories, and was thus kept in gaol for two years. Destitute of the tact and the talent of Wilkes, he continued the North Briton to No. 217 (May 11th, 1771), when he incorporated it with Bingley's Journal, which he had started in 1770. He was a mere tool in the hands of his party, and one day found himself in the Bankruptcy Court, discarded by those to whom he was no longer of any use.

"WHY SHOULD AGE BE SO UNLOVELY ?"

BY AN OLD TRAVELLER.

EYES less bright, and locks of grey,
Limbs that seek repose,

Show us that Life's lengthen'd day
Is drawing nigh its close:

But there's brightness in the sunset,
Rest beneath the shade-
Why should age be so unlovely

As 'tis sometimes made?

Gather'd thoughts, and chasten'd views,
Words of lofty tone,

Oft from feeble lips diffuse
Wisdom not their own;
Feeling still has all its kindness
Though in strength decayed-
Why should age be so unlovely
As 'tis sometimes made?

Life has charms that yet have power
O'er the failing frame,

Charms that, to its latest hour,

Ever are the same.

And with art and nature's treasures

Still before us laid

Why should age be so unlovely

As 'tis sometimes made?

When the scene grows dark around
Other spheres may shine;

Hope looks upward from the ground
Where soon we shall recline.
As the world recedes, bright visions
Heav'nward are display'd-

Why should age be so unlovely
As 'tis sometimes made?

A SWEDISH VOYAGE ROUND THE WORLD IN THE YEARS

1851, 1852, 1853.

TRANSLATED BY MRS. BUSHBY.

San Francisco, July, 1852.

My last letter informed you that we had left Guayaquil for Panama. I shall now proceed to give you some account of that place, and of others which we have visited since you last heard from me.

The bay at whose extremity stands the town of Panama is studded by a group of small islands, besides being partially occupied by the well-known promontory which is bordered with hills, covered up to their summits with rich vegetation. The country is hilly, but there are no mountains to be at all compared to the lofty ranges of the Andes. There are also many sandbanks in the bay that become visible at low water, and beyond these lie the shipping, which consist principally of the packet-boats that carry passengers to California. No other man-of-war than ours was at Panama during our week's visit to it. The town is built upon a projecting tongue of land which, at ebb-tide, stretches far out towards the sea, and where the water gathers in many little pools. These are probably in a great measure the cause of the fever and ague, and other complaints which constantly prevail in Panama, and of which the inhabitants show evident signs in their wan and emaciated appearance. The town was formerly surrounded and defended by a thick wall; this wall now lies almost entirely in ruins. One solitary cannon retains its place at the foot of the standard of New Granada, which waves here in all its glory. It was from this hard-working cannon that our salute of twenty-one guns was returned.

Even within the town ruined houses are seen which tell of better times. With the exceptiou of one tolerably handsome street, where there really were some signs of life and movement, the streets of Panama are all gloomy and dirty. The houses, the lower parts of which are of stone, the upper of wood, look heavy and dark, with their massive balconies enclosed by wooden lattices, painted green. What Panama most abounds in are signboards. Along the outside of every house, on both sides of the street, and from every wall, stretch enormous gaudy signboards, with words corresponding in size, in every European language, and advertising to the public every kind of trade and occupation, even to that of a physician. But if the signboards attract attention, the same cannot be said of the shops, which seem to have taken as their motto, "the simpler the better." Goods of all kinds are very expensive, especially every article of food. There are no public buildings except churches, and none of these are in the best condition.

There is nothing particular to say about the people. One sees nothing but European dresses and European customs, hears nothing but the languages of the old world blended in Babel confusion. Though the country round the town is flat, the Isthmus of Panama is hilly; the road, therefore, between Panama and Chagres is extremely picturesque. The hills are not very lofty, ranging from about 500 to 1000 feet in height; but from Cio Giganti both oceans are to be seen. The stranger is

struck with much that is curious here in the animal creation. Vast numbers of apes, of an uncommonly large size, parrots of the gayest colours, enormous worms, birds that resemble flowers floating in the air, and a thousand other living creatures, fill the woods which thickly cover the valleys and the hills. Grasshoppers of a peculiar species swarm in thousands among the trees, and emit a sound so sharp and loud, that I can compare it to nothing but a railway whistle. The vegetable kingdom is also full of variety, and remarkable as it is for its beauty, it is even more so for its utility. Panama is perhaps the place in the world where most abound all that is needed for the arts and occupations of mankind.

The character of the vegetation is quite tropical: the leaves of many of the trees, as well as the fruits, were strange to our eye; but there is an utter want of herbage, and the lofty trees and gigantic bushes, with their brilliant blossoms, spring from a reddish soil, which is by no means so refreshing to look at as the greensward at home.

The present Panama is not the old town which was built soon after the discovery of America, but the ruins of it are found at some little distance. The new town is not in a flourishing condition, and I heard many complaints of the want of money and the stagnation of trade. Better times, it is to be hoped, await them when the two oceans, now separated by the isthmus, shall be connected by means of the railroad, which already stretches from Manganilla-immediately to the east of Chagres-to about twenty-eight English miles from Panama, and which, it is expected, will soon be finished. The passenger traffic upon this railway is even now considerable. We had a proof of this during our stay at Panama. A steamer arrived from San Francisco crowded with eight hundred passengers; when these poor creatures landed, the town was filled in a minute with the oddest-looking Californian gold-diggers -half-savages, with overgrown beards, and in the most extraordinary garbs. They had come from the gold-diggings, and were returning to their homes with more or less of their hopes realised-too many, it may be feared, disappointed in their golden dreams. They stopped at Panama for an hour or two, besieged the gambling-houses and publichouses, crammed the shops, and swaggered about the streets until the evening, when the whole host of them departed on mules towards the railway and Chagres, where another steamer was to receive them and convey them to North America.

On leaving Panama one also takes leave of South America, and it is impossible then to refrain from casting back a glance over the vast continent whose coast one had so lately surveyed. From the Caribbean Sea to Cape Froward what an immense extent of land for the occupation of the human race-the brute creation—the vegetable kingdom! Here dwell, even now, innumerable hordes in a state of unsophisticated nature -independent of the restraints of civilisation-unfettered by the bonds of society-free from the encumbrance of dress, or merely wrapt in the skins of wild animals, and like them seeking shelter in dark caverns. The different states may appoint boundaries for those hordes, and trace them on their maps; but how can those boundaries be respected by those who have no law, honour, truth, or religion? What cruelties, disgraceful to humanity, have not been exercised here? What sufferings

have not the forefathers of those Indians endured and inflicted? How have not the Europeans, with fire and sword, urged their religion and their customs on the aborigines? What shouts of triumph from the powerful invaders-what groans and sighs from the multitude who were weak and oppressed! And yet, how many bright examples of magnanimity, courage, strength of mind, and patience, does not the history of this continent also offer to the world?

All the states of South America are republican, with the exception of one empire, and that appears to be as frail and feeble as they are, and to be threatened with the same fate that is probably hanging over them. This unhappy land has much to forget-much to learn. But let us hope that the dawn of better days is approaching for it; that a new generation is springing up, with new ideas, new experiences, new energies, and new life. The emigration from Europe, which has increased so much latterly, and especially that of the Anglo-Saxon race, must have great influence over political, commercial, and intellectual life in the southern hemisphere.

But to turn to the scenes of nature and inanimate life, what rich materials for meditation do they not present! Of what tremendous revolutions, what gigantic force, and long-departed ages do not those mighty mountains speak, whose summits mingle with the sky-those solitary shores, over which the wild waves have rolled for centuries unmarked! And again, those majestic woods, with their giant trees, which seem to have stood there since the first glorious day of earth's creation, and, rich even now in vigour and beauty, appear like imperishable monuments of the past! South America is, perhaps, that part of the world where the scientific inquirer will have the widest field for his researches in come, and it cannot fail to afford new and valuable additions to the sum of human knowledge.

years to

We went from Panama to the Pearl Islands, to take in water and firewood, and anchored outside of St. José, where we remained for a few days. The weather was very variable, for the air was now heated by the burning sun of the equator, now thick with the heavy equatorial rain, pouring straight down-a kind of waterfall which no one could conceive who had not witnessed it. The Archipelago consists of several islands, that stand near each other, in the midst of the calm, deep blue sea. These islands abound in all the indescribable beauty of tropical scenery; the shores are lined with lofty and graceful palm-trees, the gently-rising grounds are covered with woods, some of whose gigantic trees are reflected in the clear streams that descend towards the strand, and form, here and there, cascades sparkling in the sun, whose beams glance gaily amidst the interstices of the flowery thickets, composed of innumerable creeping plants. It was all beautiful and grand; but still more imposing, perhaps, was the intense silence that reigned around..

We had fixed to go next to San Francisco, but as the Galapagos Islands were known to be among the most interesting places in the world to natural philosophers, our commander kindly determined on giving us an opportunity of visiting them. After a tedious voyage, rendered unpleasant by heavy rain and dead calms, we reached the Galapagos. This ocean group consists of fifteen islands, of which Albemarle is the most

important. They are all of volcanic origin, and full of volcanoes, from whose more or less deep craters the lava had flowed in streams, and was covered in some parts with a poor, in others with a rich, vegetation. These volcanoes are of what may be called recent formation; and at Marlborough Island and Albemarle eruptions have taken place not long since, and smoke is still always issuing from them. These islands, which acquired their English names at the period of the restoration of the Stuarts, now belong to the republic of Equador, and this circumstance of itself may account for their much-neglected condition. In the hands of another power-of England, for instance-doubtless several of the islands would have flourished considerably, for they would have been well cultivated; and whale fisheries carried on there would have afforded ample returns to European enterprise.

Before I enter into any little details of the remarkable features in the natural history of these islands, I will give you a short description of those we visited. The western portion of Chatham Island is barer and wilder than anything you can fancy. From the numerous craters, of many of which one side had fallen in, the mouths partially choked up with blocks of lava, great streams of lava had been thrown out in all directions, that now, like a suddenly petrified sea, with its breakers and foam, covered, in layers about an inch thick, the surface of the ground. On crossing these fields of lava it often cracked and gave way beneath the feet, and one sometimes stepped unexpectedly into deep holes in the rocky ground, at the great risk of breaking one's legs. More terrible eruptions had occurred at other places, and there lay immense broken columns and heavy blocks, cast over each other in the wildest confusion, so that it was impossible to penetrate among them. On the east side of the island there was a good deal of vegetation, that is to say, a number of trees and wild plants; here we also saw some of the inhabitants of the island, who, having perceived that we came from the frigate, sought us to offer us turtles for sale. It appeared that the large red crabs, of which numbers were to be seen among the rocks, formed the principal food of these poor people.

Charles's Island deserves its Spanish name, Floriana-given out of compliment to General Flores, who is now making war upon his native land-for that island is indeed full of flowers. From the shore on one side, which is studded with rocks of lava, a somewhat precipitous ridge of mountains stretches to the centre of the island, where a couple of volcanoes, one about 1600 feet in height, form a sort of crown to the other and lower craters. A little building stood on the sea-shore near the place where our frigate had anchored, and from thence a footpath led up to a knot of about four small houses, which appeared to have been abandoned before our arrival. One had probably been the dwelling of the governor, to judge by its superiority to the others; this superiority consisted in its being floored, and better furnished than they were. Bayonets, guns, and other weapons were lying about. Fences and orange-trees evinced that the hand of cultivation had formerly been there; and a building, which appeared to have been a prison, showed that malefactors had not escaped the jurisdiction of the law. Some very misanthropic-looking dogs wandered around these forsaken dwellings,