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brother's Eton holidays, he had enjoyed the benefit of his tuition, and who was indulging in dreams how, in their joint return from exile, with their varied experience of the East, they might have worked together for some great and useful end.

He sleeps far away from his native land, on the heights of Dhurmsala; a fitting grave, let us rejoice to think, for the Viceroy of India, overlooking from its lofty height the vast expanse of the hill and plain of these mighty provinces,-a fitting burial, may we not say, beneath the snow-clad Himalaya range, for one who dwelt with such serene satisfaction on all that was grand and beautiful in man and nature-

“ Pondering God's mysteries untold,

And tranquil as the glacier snows,
He by those Indian mountains old,

Might well repose." A last home, may we not say, of which the very name, with its double signification, was worthy of the spirit which there passed away—“the Hall of Justice, the Place of Rest.” Rest, indeed, to him after his long “laborious days," in that presence which to him was the only complete Rest--the presence of Eternal Justice.

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The Mona

I Longitude West of Greenwich

A Fortnight in Faroe.


ART. II.-1. A Fortnight in Faroe, from Unpublished Jour

nals, v.y. 2. Faroernes Fuglefauna med Bemoerkninger om Fuglefangsten

af Sysselmand H C. MÜLLER. Kjobenhavn, 1863.

The time will soon come when we shall all be flitting. When the London season will begin to flag, and its joys to pall on our jaded taste. In May it is a beautiful girl, in June a full-grown man, in July a palsied gray-beard, scarce able to make a valid disposition of its goods and land, in August it will be dead and buried. We who have laughed at its many quips and cranks a month back will have wept and even cursed over its bier, and then that great greed for travel and wandering will come over us, and even the best of us will loathe the town and long for the country. Well, whither shall we go! “Of course abroad,” say our wives and daughters, who think that “ Paterfamilias” has the purse of Fortunatus safely lodged at his banker's. Abroad of course; but let him propose Boulogne or Dieppe. We would not be in the bed of that father of a family, no! not for a single night. There is, however, much to be said for Dieppe, it being always understood that you do not reach it via Brighton. The horrors of that “middle passage” no tongue can tell, no pen write, no pencil portray. Let it be enough to say that there the voyage is always long, the sea short and chopping, the boat slow but lively, the steward nowhere, and sea-sickness rampant except when it leans over the side. When you get to Dieppe it is pleasant enough and dear enough out of all conscience. You Paterfamilias, being a man of pure and cleanly life, will bathe, but you will bathe under the eye of the police, bathe with your netherman hidden from the vulgar gaze by what the French call caleçons, bathe in batches, the men in one batch and the women in the other. Above all things beware of following the example of an Englishman who rashly went into his box to bathe, attended by his faithful Newfoundland dog. Neptune, the dog and not the sea, we grieve to write it, was unmuzzled, in itself a crime of the deepest dye in France. The master having divested himself of all his garments, till he stood shivering like Adam before the Fall, rashly opened the door and peeped out; in an instant Neptune rushed in, caught the fatal caleçons in his mouth and tore away along the sands. His master still more rashly rushed after him to save the garment. Groans and execrations rose all along the beach, the police came up, and Neptune and his master were taken to the guardhouse, the master for being in state closely resembling that of the ancient Picts without their woad, and the dog for being without a muzzle. Need we say that both were heavily fined, and that both left Dieppe by the next steamer ? But barring such accidents Dieppe is not a bad place. True, it is rather dearer than Paris, and perhaps the ladies who flock thither dress rather better and more often in the twenty-four hours than they do in the French capital. No! we should not say it would cost more to take your wife and daughters to Dieppe in August and September, than it would to live in Belgravia during May and June; but then you have Fortunatus' purse at your banker's, so pay the bill like a husband and a father and let us have no meanness. Besides, is there not the boat from Dieppe to Brighton, and can you not run backwards and forwards to the city and make money there, while your wives and daughters bathe under the eye of the whole society y comprise la police on the sands at the mouth of the Somme?

And here a serious question arises, as it has often arisen to many a father of a family

“ Medio de fonte leporum Surgit amari aliquid quod in ipsis floribus angat." Is it needful to take your wife and daughters abroad with you? We are bold even to ask such a question; and on the whole,

less we wrote der this sweet anonymous mask, we should not dare to do so. The fate of Actaon, of Orpheus, and all those unhappy wights who have fared so ill at women's hands, would be light matched against ours. In a meeting of wives and daughters there would not be a morsel of us left in five minutes, and yet we dare to ask, Is it needful to take your wives and daughters abroad at all? Are they fit for it? does it do them any good ? are you or they the better for it? do they learn anything? “Wretch !” shrieks the indignant wife and mother. “Can we not speak French; that is to say, not I but the girls, at least they have been taught, and though they have never tried no doubt they can; and if they can't what does it matter? So that is settled.” Settled indeed in woman's wise, but in sorrow we utter it, the British woman of all classes, except the very highest, and with many exceptions even there, is not voluble or even audible in any tongue but her own. The difference between the mothers and their daughters is about this -- the mothers never open their mouths, except to say "wee" or "yah," and do not pretend to speak; but the daughters do open their mouths, and yet no one understands them. Whether their French be of Stratteford-at-the-Bow, or their German the choicest Kauderwelsch we dare not say, but the effect on the natives is that of great amazement. They are

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