from the tides which had long rolled over the sands of the dangerous estuary. The mouths of the two small streams, Kent and Leven, are crossed by bridges erected on hollow iron piles, the bases of which are broad disks, sunk deep in the sand.-The locomotive constructed for the special use of the emperor our ally is made to do what many English locomotives should do-burn its own smoke. The coal is laid on an ascending slope of bars, and so perfect is the combustion of the gases, that the solid portion is at once converted into coke; the process, in fact, is one by which coke is made as fast as needed. A valuable paper by Dr Lombard on Mountain Climates considered in a Medical Point of View, has lately appeared in a periodical published at Geneva, and translated in an English journal. The author takes up the whole question of mountain climates; shews in what instances they are hurtful, and in what beneficial; and that much depends on a difference of a thousand feet. Indeed, it would appear that the weakly and the diseased require to be as carefully advised as to the choice of a mountain residence, as to that of a mineral bath or spring. The prior of the Hospice of St Bernard, the highest permanently inhabited point in Europe-8129 feet-replies to questions concerning the effects of the elevated climate: "The diseases to which the monks are liable are inflammations of the chest. The greater number of them become asthmatic after a certain number of years, and are obliged to go down again to the plain. Those who have been born among the mountains can reside for a long time with impunity at the convent.' It is curious and instructive to notice that certain diseases appear natural to certain heights-asthma, for example, to the highest. On the other hand, 'if the low valleys or medium regions of our Alps present a great number of phthisical cases, this disease becomes rarer and rarer as we ascend, insomuch that, at a height above 3280 feet, we meet only with a few isolated cases, and at 4920 feet, pulmonary phthisis entirely disappears. This phthisical zone, above and below which this disorder disappears, may be approximately fixed at between 1640 and 3280 feet.' The doctor classifies the climates under three heads: 1. Climates at once tonic and soothing (below 3280),' as at Mornex, St Gervais, and places overlooking the lakes of Thun, Brienz, and Lucerne. 2. Tonic and invigorating climates (about 3280 feet),' as Monnetier, Treize Arbres on the Salève, Voirons, Lalliaz, and others. 3. Climates essentially tonic and exciting (above 3280 feet),' as Comballaz, Grion, Gurnigel, Rosenlaui, the Righi, and others. According to the disease, such should be the remedial climate. pursues the doctor, in a passage which we think it desirable to reproduce here- if the respiration be freer, the circulation more regular, and the digestion more active, it is evident that it is by modifying the functions of assimilation and sanguinification (hematosis), that the air of heights gives a new life to debilitated constitutions; and, on the other hand, that if the muscular vigour be increased, the sleep more tranquil, and the intellectual functions calmer, it is because the air of mountains exercises a twofold action on the nervous system-sedative as regards the brain, and stimulating in respect to the functions depending on the nervous centres, the spinal marrow, and the ganglions. It thus definitely appears that, when we wish to render nutrition more complete, and re-establish the equilibrium, between the animal and mental functions, we should recommend a sojourn in some elevated locality; while we should carefully avoid the use of exciting therapeutic agents whenever we have to do with plethoric persons disposed to inflammations or hemorrhages, and who are excessively nervous, or labouring under some organic disease accompanied with fever or great vascular irritability.' These conclusions 'If,' are well worth consideration by those numerous healthseekers who rush to the sea-side, fix themselves there for weeks, and return home feeling more languid and out of sorts than when they went. The statistics issued from the Mining Record Office have now assumed a very important character. With each year,' as Mr Robert Hunt says, 'attempts have been made to enlarge the circle of inquiry;' and the result is, that the Mineral Statistics for 1856, just published by Messrs Longman, embrace every important branch of our mineral industries.' The volume is prefaced by a laudatory notice from Sir Roderick I. Murchison, as director of the Museum of Practical Geology, mentioning the very interesting circumstance it discloses, that the produce of coal in the United Kingdom has now reached the enormous annual amount of 66 millions of tons! We may mention, likewise, as a proof of the enlargement of our iron trade, that the quantity of pig-iron manufactured in the year was upwards of 3 million tons, from 622 blast-furnaces. Such returns, it may be interesting to know, are obtained upon application, without any hesitation on the part of those engaged in our great mineral industries." ARISE YE, AND DEPART. Arise ye, and depart; for this is not your rest.—Micah, ii. 10. Unto the soul? That soul like Hagar bowed Arise ye, and depart; yon setting sun Casts lengthened shadows down the stony way; The shattered sunbeams, angels one by one Are stealing; leaves are blushing o'er decay; And Ocean moans his broken-hearted lay In Nature's ear; and Nature worn, opprest, With hearing all her wayward children pray To her, but syllables that high behest'Arise ye, and depart; for this is not your rest.' Arise ye, and depart; all steeped in light, That heaven-promised land lies far before; The cloud by day, the pillared fire by night, Shall beacon onward to that distant shore: There every hope lost from the earthly store, And wildly mourned, is garnered to the breast, And from the Tree of Life can fall no more A withered leaf. Wayworn and care-opprest, 'Arise ye, and depart; for this is not your rest.' Published on Saturday, 7th November, No. I., Price 1 d., of a New and Improved Edition of CYCLOPEDIA OF ENGLISH LITERATURE, and Vol. I., Price 8s., of an Improved Edition of CHAMBERS'S INFORMATION FOR THE PEOPLE, Also will be Published, on the 1st December, Part I., Price 1s., of a New Work, CHRONICLE OF THE INDIAN REVOLT, Illustrated with Maps, Plans, and Miscellaneous Illustrations. Printed and Published by W. and R. CHAMBERS, 47 Paternoster Row, LONDON, and 339 High Street, EDINBURGH. Also sold by WILLIAM ROBERTSON, 23 Upper Sackville Street, DUBLIN, and all Booksellers. OF POPULAR LITERATURE Science and ris. CONDUCTED BY WILLIAM AND ROBERT CHAMBERS. No. 201. SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 7, 1857. THE HIGHLAND SEASON. To no small portion of the fashionable world of London, and to that extensive class throughout the country at large whose movements are regulated by the capital, there are few routes more attractive than those that lead towards the north of Scotland. Autumnal tourists have ceased to travel for the sake of recording their impressions of scenery, or with a hope of encountering romantic incidents by the road. There are, indeed, no places worth exploring within the compass of a short holiday, that have not become almost unpleasantly familiar by repeated description. A salutary impression, moreover, has of late been made upon the public mind, that the main object of travel is not so much sight-seeing as to obtain purer air, relaxation from business, and the cheerfulness of spirit that variety and exercise almost invariably confer. So, leaving German spas and German doctors to stately dowagers and pompous invalids in general, and the tame shores of Brighton and Scarborough to such as prefer ease to exercise, a yearly increasing number of travellers make for the Highlands, anticipating, we may suppose, greater enjoyment in scrambling upon ponies over wild mountains, far beyond cities and railways, or strolling by the heathery braes of some romantic valley. Thousands of such visitors every autumn invade the north, and may be encountered during August and September in the most remote corners-perhaps sketching the famous cave of Strathaird, fishing on Loch Maree, or climbing Ben Cruachan. The indifferent accommodation provided in former times for travellers, gave an additional zest to the natural inconveniences of the route. The earlier race of tourists could astonish friendly listeners at home with a recital of dangers not altogether imaginary. It was not unusual to hear of a party, too confident of their walking-power, and unaware of the consumptive effects of mountain air upon the fullest wallet, getting benighted or overtaken by mist, and owing their relief to an accidental meeting with a belated shepherd or a suspicious gamekeeper; or it has sometimes happened that an adventurous band, including several ladies, have pushed forward, hungry and exhausted, to a bothie, dignified by the partial guide-books into an inn, and found the 'good refreshment' resolve itself into whisky, smoked cakes, and salted herrings, while the comfortable beds' were as unacquainted with sheets as the fireplaces with grates. As a growing appreciation of the great natural beauty of Highland scenery led every season to an increase of visitors, there naturally arose a demand PRICE 1d. for better accommodation; but it was found extremely difficult to convince native innkeepers of the necessity for amendment in that respect. Innovation of any kind is irksome to Highlanders, and in that now suggested there was an implied censure of national habits highly disagreeable to a sensitive people. Nor was their estimate of the character of the friendly invaders calculated to impress them with satisfactory reasons for gratifying what they looked upon as prejudices, for it must be owned that Celtic innkeepers, in common with Celts in general, regarded tourists as harmless imbeciles, whose delusion was to climb without purpose the steepest mountains, to dredge patiently for useless sea-weed and shells, and to get drenched in infatuated admiration of a water-fall. They could not comprehend how such indifference to out-of-door comfort as these pursuits implied, was compatible with luxurious habits at home; but John Bull, with characteristic obstinacy, preferred his own tastes, and determined to gratify them. It was vain attempting to persuade him that raw whisky was a superior tonic to stout, that Athol-brose formed the most epicurean of dishes, or that a daily newspaper was a superfluous luxury. He insisted on cooking as at home, demanded carriage-roads instead of bridletracks, got steamers placed on the most inaccessible lakes, and had a medical practitioner introduced into every parish: and, further to assist this assimilation of manners, he carried some of his own innkeepers into the country. This practice is still maintained, and threatens in a few years to make a specimen of the native race of innkeepers as rare as a capercailzie. Even at present, in those instances where the landlord's country displays itself in an unmistakable Ross-shire or Perthshire accent, the landlady or head-waiter is pretty sure to have come across the Border. All Highland innkeepers, native or imported, have one general failing-they are notorious grumblers. This unamiable trait is probably due to the rareness of their experience of that medium of fortune proverbially declared favourable to mental equanimity. For nine months of the year they vegetate in hotels as capacious and gloomy as old castles, indulging in no livelier meditations than heavy rents and expensive establishments suggest, whereas, during the autumnal quarter, money pours so profusely into their pockets, that visions of sudden fortune come upon them as vividly as second-sight. The contrast between these unequal divisions of the year is indeed grievous. Slowly and drearily revolve the unprofitable winter, spring, and summer. For many months there appears no visitor more lucrative than an exciseman or a stray commercial traveller; no grander equipage than a farmer's gig. The great subject of speculation to the Highland innkeeper during this tedious interval is the probable character of next season. With intense anxiety does he watch for any indications that public events, as the state of trade and political relations, supply. Objects of general curiosity, or seasons of national alarm, such as the different exhibitions of London, Dublin, and Paris, an election, or a war, very gravely affect him, since they tend to diminish the number of travellers. But the dullest winter and coldest spring must terminate, and with the genial summer mine host gets more lively. His cellars are examined; his stud ascertained to be fresh; his carriages are repainted; and his advertisements are issued. Alas! tourists will no more travel before the prorogation than if prohibited by act of parliament. It is surely not without reason that the ready landlord denounces the fashionable tyranny that deprives visitors of seeing a Highland summer in its prime. Occasionally, the long days of June are enlivened by the arrival of a newly married pair, or a noisy party of botanical students. Not unfrequently an Oxford or Cambridge tutor, about to spend the long vacation in Scotland with a party of pupils, applies for rooms. Such an offer is not accepted without hesitation, since the requisite accommodation involves a considerable portion of the hotel. Nevertheless, the season may be bad, so-not without a vivid anticipation of the indignant air with which a traveller, arriving when the house is full, points to the 'ample accommodation' advertised in Bradshaw-the landlord errs on the prudent side. The arrival of the undergraduates communicates some bustle to the quiet inn, which gradually extends throughout the parish. So profitably do these young gentlemen employ their leisure, that in a few days there is not a rare fern, an antique bridge, or a romantic water-fall, but is as familiar to them as the capacity of the swiftest pony in the inn stables, or the troutfulness of the best pool on the river. As the season proper draws nearer, the innkeeper's anxiety grows more intense, and induces him to hold long consultations with his better-half in the backparlour. We shall suppose, however, that parliament is quietly prorogued without the occurrence of any untoward crisis to affect the travelling tendencies of the thousands that hurry to railway stations. Among the earliest symptoms of the coming season is the passage of sportsmen to the moors.* These, having their lodges furnished with every necessary, are of little advantage to the innkeeper. Fortunately for him, they form but an insignificant portion of English visitors. It is for tourists proper, the class that have no home but an hotel, that our host opens his doors. Presently troops of these, striking off from Perth, Inverness, Oban, or Aberdeen, appear in the most remote districts. The innkeeper is now busy and cheerful. Almost every hour, polite parties in carriages, and more clamorous sets in those curious walking costumes with which English fancy loves to vary the tartan, find their way to the inn; while, if situated upon any of the main lines of travel, morning and evening coaches deposit their tired occupants at, its doors. Within, waiters and chambermaids bustle about, bells are constantly ringing, and every corner is alive, from the sacred recesses of the back-parlour, where the hostess scores bills over the closed piano, to the topmost *It is not unamusing to notice the general connection in the public mind between grouse-shooting and legislation. Tired senators are popularly represented at the close of each parlia mentary session as longing to recruit their energies on the Scottish moors. Now, the fact is, that the number of M.P.'s renting moors is extremely small, and of that number it is no offence to observe their celebrity is greater as sportsmen than as speakers. The lessees of Highland shootings belong mostly to the moneyed middle class, such as bankers, brewers, officers, country gentlemen, and the like. garret. Amid all this excitement, the happy landlord stands unmoved, and the impersonation of ordersuperintends with unwearied civility and good-humour each arrival and departure. Emergencies occasionally arise that demand the exercise of his utmost tact. Such may be the case on, for example, the arrival of what Mr Boswell would call -an Illustrious Party. Late in the evening, when the hotel is crowded, an imposing equipage-perhaps that of a foreign prince-drives up to the door. The host is puzzled-even the fertile genius of the head-waiter is unable to suggest any satisfactory expedient. The crisis is very grave; for should the Illustrious Party suspect the state of matters, they will order fresh horses, and proceed another stage. Our host cannot for a moment entertain this alternative. An idea strikes him. Whispering some words to his anxious wife, he knocks at the door of one of the general visitors, and, upon admission, proceeds to narrate the peculiar circumstances of the case. Artfully dwelling upon the exalted rank of the arrival, he endeavours to excite his listener's sympathy, and concludes with insinuating, as gently as possible, a modest wish that the gentleman would give up his bedroom for a single night. The gentleman, however, is marvellously indifferent to the claims of the great party, but at last, through continued solicitation, expresses a surly willingness to abandon his apartment if another can be procured for him. Most politely is he thanked by the landlord, who retires to repeat the same process with as many guests as he needs first-rate apartments, and thereafter awaits the return of his wife. The lady's part of the negotiation in like manner required considerable tact: she had been despatched to the clergyman's and to the doctor's, with a view of coaxing their respective wives to accommodate the ousted guests. Yet, after giving all this trouble, it is far from improbable that the Illustrious Party may look rather indignantly at the bill next morning. There are few visitors more welcome at a Highland inn than a party leisurely posting in one of those huge family-coaches with which Englishmen first invaded the continent. The landlord, finding its occupants not pressed for time, very naturally employs every artifice to promote their stay. If Paterfamilias is neither sportsman nor angler, he is perhaps something of an antiquary. In such a case, there are several mysterious mounds and circles in the neighbourhood, the archæology of which is still obscure. Then for the sketch-books of the younger members of the party there are many charming spots that will richly repay a visit. It must not be supposed that unpretending travellers are neglected: Piscator is out all day, never grumbles at bed or table, and pays-like a lord. The famous reserve of English character nowhere more powerfully exhibits itself than in the Highlands. The same parties may meet for several days at the same inns, travel by the same conveyances, and visit the same curiosities without advancing towards any intimacy. There is one occasion, however, during the Highland Season, upon which all classes of travellers associate on somewhat familiar terms: this is at the Northern Meeting-an annual festival of considerable antiquity, held at Inverness about the middle of September, where national amusements may be witnessed to great advantage. So far as popularity is concerned, the Northern Meeting forms the Derby of the Highlands. There is always a great concourse of spectators. Travellers from inns, sportsmen from shooting-boxes, and yachtsmen from the Western Islands, Caledonian Canal, or Moray Firth, country gentlemen, farmers, and a vast body of the neighbouring rural population, hasten to Inverness. Who can describe the anxiety of the fair inhabitants of that picturesque town on this occasion, not so much from a patriotic desire that reels may be danced and pibrochs played to the admiration of English visitors, or from an apprehension that the champion of the stone may not be a native, as on account of the balls that accompany the festival? That such anxiety is neither unnatural nor misplaced, is easily understood from the number of Englishmen that rumour declares to be yearly enchanted by the fair sirens of the Ness. Some amusing stories are told of the difficulty experienced on such interesting occasions in convincing a matter-of-fact paternal guardian from Birmingham or Leeds of the honour conferred upon his family by Miss Macphilabeg's acceptance of his son's hand and fortune. The public interest centres of course upon the more legitimate objects of the Meeting. The games, indeed, possess something of an Olympic character. No feeble arm can make the caber—a huge fir-describe a circle in the air; nor is it an ordinary achievement to pitch a hammer, weighing sixteen pounds, a distance of one hundred feet. The national music is grateful even to English ears a result probably due as much to being heard in open air, as to the acknowledged merit of the performers. The duration of the Highland Season, after the close of the Northern Meeting, depends upon the weather, which may remain favourable for three or four weeks, or not for as many days. Often in the driest autumn a chilly night towards the end of October is succeeded by an unusually bright morning. Astonished tourists awaken to find the hills covered with snow. The landlord tries to palliate the fault, but in vain. Nervous ladies recall disagreeable reminiscences of interrupted communication, and hurry homewards their travelling companions. So bills are settled, kilts laid aside, fishing-rods unjointed, and in a very few days the inn is deserted. The doleful landlord, as he sees his latest guest depart, locks his cellars, houses his carriages, and suspends his newspapers. The dull winter will be on presently; and as he surveys misty hilis, empty roads, and leafless trees, he would fain slumber till autumn reappears, till once again impatient bells, smoking horses, and crowding travellers proclaim the return of the Highland Season. GEOGRAPHY OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. WHAT Would old Strabo think if he could return from the shades and spend a few days with us? The old traveller, we presume, would be an honoured guest at the meetings of the Geographical Society; and kindly greetings would doubtless be exchanged between him and Livingstone. How the gallant Raleigh and the learned Hakluyt would rejoice over the explorations of our later times! The former might remind us of his prophecies, now fulfilled in the discoveries of the auriferous regions of California and Australia. That gold and silver in large quantities,' says Raleigh's biographer, were to be come at in parts of America not possessed by the Spaniards was a persuasion that fire could not burn out of Raleigh;' and he himself says: There are many places of the world, especially America, many high and impassable mountains, which are very rich and full of gold;' and, relating the fable of the golden fleece, he observes: 'Not far from Caucasus there are steep falling torrents, which wash down many grains of gold, as in many other parts of the world, and the people there inhabiting use to set many fleeces of wool in those descents of water, in which grains of gold remain, and the water passeth through.' It is truly said that the superstition of one age becomes the philosophy of the next.' The vague belief of a Raleigh, and the scientific deductions of a Murchison, may both precede the actual discovery of gold, but the fact at length comes to light, and then we marvel at our want of faith. This great event of the century is intimately connected with the science of geography, of which we would say a few words, taking the Address at the Anniversary Meeting of the Geographical Society** as our text. The two awards of gold medals are significant of the direction and progress of this important study. The first recipient for this year is Mr A. C. Gregory, for explorations in North Australia-a division of the world so important as one of the great colonies of the Anglo-Saxon race, and the centre, probably, of future civilisation when we shall have shared the fate of Assyria, Greece, Rome, Carthage.' Mr Gregory's explorations, however, have decided one rather uncomfortable fact-that the central portion of this continent, together with the southern coast-line, are composed of an uninhabitable desert, which, geologists suggest, may probably be the dried-up bottom of a sea, and that there can be no intercommunication over these sterile tracts. We find, according to the same authority, 'that squatters have extended their dwellings to S. lat. 23° 41' and E. long. 147 50', or about 500 miles from the head of the Gulf of Carpentaria.' And then comes the important news, that a vast district from the eastern side of the gulf to the northernmost station of our settlers, 'is more or less fertile;' and according to the colonial secretary, 'some of us may live to hear of that hitherto unknown region becoming the home of a prosperous English settlement.' Associated with Mr Gregory's expedition were Dr Mueller the botanist, and Mr Wilson the geologist, who have given the world the result of their researches. It is highly satisfactory to know that the party did not suffer from loss of health, and that, during some portion of the journeyings on the banks of the Victoria River, their horses fattened, which facts argue favourable conditions for British garrisons and colonists. The following remark, with which Sir Roderick Murchison closes this portion of his address, is just now pregnant with interest. He says: "Ought we to close our eyes to the vast importance, not only of securing good harbours of refuge in Northern Australia, but also of there establishing naval stations, which would prove invaluable for steam-navigation, and where, in the event of war, our fleets may rendezvous, and thence move directly upon the flank of any enemy who might be operating against our eastern trade and possessions?' 6 The Geographical Society's second medallist for 1857 is Colonel Waugh, for his extension of the trigonometrical survey of India-completing, in fact, the triangulation of a vast tract, comprising 223,000 square miles.' This work has occupied fifty-four years. In considering these details, let those amongst us, who live at home at ease,' think of the perseverance, privation, and hardships by which all such scientific improvements have been effected. Those 'young hearts, hot and restless,' who are fired by desire and ambition for adventure and distinction, need not fear, like Alexander, that there will be nothing left for them to conquer; the mere investigation of what has been done, will prove to us how much there remains to be done. The world is not used up, even in geography-books, and progress itself opens new fields of observation, and brings us cognizant with correlative laws, which it may yet take generations to work out. Amongst the most important labours of geography are the maritime surveys. We find that there are at present under government orders twenty surveying parties in active service. They are equally divided among our own coasts and the colonies-the Mediterranean, the river Plate, the South-western Pacific, and the coast of China. The immense importance of By Sir Roderick I. Murchison, the president. The shifting currents of the restless main. But to return to the plain prose of statistical facts. We learn that 1000 herring-boats annually fish out of Wick on the Caithness coasts, and that they have no shelter to run for. The geographers, in a spirit of philanthropy, common to science, set about discussing the alleviation of this evil, suggesting the erection of a suitable harbour. The geologist, too, comes in with some interesting theory (not yet quite made out) relative to the changes which take place on this coast. Mr Keith Johnston and Mr John Cleghorn, who have devoted much time, says our text-book, 'to the observation of these phenomena, agree that the prevalent wave-producing wind wears the headlands into precipices, which sends back the débris by a counter or reflux current which necessarily tends to shoal up the opposite side of the bay.' This law is so simple that it would be very pleasant to have it satisfactorily proved, and, observes Sir Roderick, we may extend the reasoning to those periods of change in the surface of the globe, when, after the former sea-bottoms were raised up to constitute the mass of the present constituents, great lines of cliff were formed in given directions, facing, as it were, low tracts covered by marine drift.' Adopting this law, we might pronounce 'upon the prevalent winds of the pre-Adamite time.' As we follow the details of the Admiralty survey from place to place, we cannot but congratulate the age upon the wonderful accuracy, patience, and scientific knowledge which are now brought to bear upon investigations so important to our navy, our commercial shipping, and to the life and property of the community at large. In geographical science, the cui bono party have at least no cause to complain of physical philosophy. The common-sense school may also do homage even to so-called theorists, who can teach their mariners, their civil engineers, their miners, and their manufacturers something more than the old routine of practice has effected. In almost every region of importance, the maritime surveys are being prosecuted, not only in our own channels, but in remote seas and distant rivers. We have valuable information from the soundings of the delta of the Danube, the Sea of Azov, the Mediterranean, and Archipelago; all this, be it observed, is the current work of the year. Some of these surveys have originated in that period, and all have been progressing with vigour and success. In this and similar work, not only are accurate delineations made for the use of the geographer, but the geologist is assisted very frequently in his investigations, and the political economist and merchant are guided to fresh fields of labour and profit. Physical science is the true missionary of civilisation. How admirably do the rays of philosophy converge into one focus of utility! The astronomer at his telescope numbers the stars in their orbits, and by his teachings the sailor uses them for beacon-lights on the pathless ocean. The Scandinavians and their Sea-kings may have infused into the Anglo-Saxon race something of their own spirit of daring and adventure. We are not, it is true, ferocious predatory pirates like the old Danes of Alfred's time; but certain it is, that wherever ships can go, there English people are to be found, helping the natives by conquering them, and colonising where it seemeth best to their world-wide experience. The sort of assistance which the Geographical Society affords in our communications with our distant settlements, may be gathered from the following: In the last anniversary (1856) address, a hope was expressed that Captain Bate, the surveyor of the island of Palawan, might be more usefully employed in China than in merely commanding a cruising ship. It is gratifying to be able to state that a thoroughly equipped surveying vessel, the Acteon, accompanied by a small steam-tender, the Dove, under command of Lieutenant Bulloch, has sailed for those seas, and as soon as the present unfortunate differences with China are settled, Captain Bate will resume his survey on such parts of the coast as most require it. In the meantime, Messrs Richards and Inskip, in the Saracen, will proceed forthwith to make a detailed survey of the dangerous shoal As Pratas-lying only sixty leagues to the east-south-east of our own colony at Hong Kong-with a view to the construction of a light-house upon that extensive coral-reef which has caused the wreck of so many vessels.' But to revert to details of actual work done-for instance, in the Sea of Azov, which is proved to be in no part deeper than forty feet,' if the present system of discharging ballast, which forms nuclei for alluvial deposits, be not discontinued, the sea before long will be hardly navigable in some places.' In regard to South Africa, the government is reminded of what it is not doing, and of the necessity for instituting both land and coast surveys, which shall enable the Cape settlers to develop the resources of the district, and so benefit the colonial exchequer. In the Pacific Ocean, Captain Denham has found that certain supposed rocks, the Underwood and Rosaretta reefs, have no actual existence-a useful discovery; for ships, in avoiding the imaginary Scylla, may have been drawn into Charybdis. Amongst the useful inventions and improvements which are chronicled as the latest additions to geographical science, we find that during the last year the ordnance surveys have got 1,394,409 acres mapped, ready for publication. The geological survey of the British Isles continues its work, having completed and published ‘one-inch scale, with six-inch horizontal sections, maps which relate to the whole of Wales, all the south-western districts, and a great part of the central counties of England.' That the public are appreciating these valuable repositories of information is evident, for the sale this year, if it continues, will exceed 5000 sheets. It is at this point of popular success that the importance of an undertaking comes to be generally felt, and to bear the fruit of educational usefulness-in other words, the young engineer, the agriculturist, the miner, the settler in the backwoods, finds that he must know something of physical geography and geology, if he would improve his own position, by developing the resources of the country or neighbourhood where his lot is cast. We do not now measure the capabilities of things, animate or inanimate, by what has been done. Practical knowledge is like a mere tool, if there is not an intelligent head to guide its utility. We don't put the wheel in the rut 'to drag its weary length along;' but we make new roads, for the steam-slave to work our will with lightning speed. The Romans knew the way to remove lead from its ores, but they did not know the best way; for a company on the Mendip Hills, in Somersetshire, are at this moment working their refuse slag, and find it more profitable than new mines. A coin of Antoninus Pius was found beneath the mass of scoriæ, a curious enough link between the labour of the second and the nineteenth centuries. What happened to the Romans in their ignorance of metallurgy is now happening to us: the refuse of the copper-mines and smeltingplaces, comprising thousands of tons, is known to |