This 12 13 14 2345678 15 F S2 S. aft. CHRISTMAS. I am thy God: I will Tu Th F S Hilary Term begins. 16 Th M Tu S1 S. aft. EPIPH. Return unto Me; for I have [Is. xliv. 22. W 17 F 18 S Prisca, V. & M. Old Twelfth Day. As we are now in the region of coal, almost every yard along this part of the coast exhibits, even to the inexperienced eye, plain indication of the existence of this valuable mineral. Turning the head-land at the south-eastern entrance of the harbour, where a lighthouse stands, and at a further distance of eight or ten miles, you arrive at another establishment of the association, situated upon Singau Harbour, or L'Indian, as it was formerly called by the French. From these mines a coal of valuable properties for the purpose of gas is exported in large quantities to the United States. coast, with the exception of some headlands forming boundaries to bays and inlets, consists, to a large extent, of level table-land. Notwithstanding its exposure to the cold winds of the Atlantic, excellent crops are cultivated upon its fertile soil; and beneath its surface, for miles along the level cliffs, may be noticed dark seams of coal marking it in every direc-divine life within our souls without frequent and contion. This coal is often so accessible, that in walking upon the beach I have picked up pieces among the stones, where it has been washed out by the waves at high water, and have extracted with my hands large lumps from the pits, out of which the farmers supply themselves with fuel. I remember, many years ago, in the summer of 1826, when quite a youth, being present at an interview, in London, between a near relative of mine, who at that time held a government office in this province, and a Mr. Bof the firm of R and B, London. The object of this interview was to ascertain the value of the Cape Breton coal mines, and the practicability of their being worked to advantage, previous to taking a lease of them in discharge of the late Duke of York's liabilities. Amongst the depositions taken down upon that occasion, I recollect the statement that the coal was so plentiful, and, in some places, so easily got at, that at high tide and calm water, a vessel could be loaded immediately from the shore, by placing a plank from the cliff to the deck. This appeared almost incredible; but from personal observation, I have ascertained that, in certain spots, this might be accomplished. On the shores of Glare Bay and Bridgeport, this could be done with a little contrivance. Soon after the above interview the Mining Association was formed, and has continued to work the Cape Breton mines for many years to great advantage, although of course not with the aid of such simple machinery as I have just alluded to. Besides the mines of the association in this direction, a private and enterprizing merchant of Sydney, E. P. Archbold, Esq., has for the last few years been working a mine upon his own responsibility, under a lease from the Government of Nova Scotia. (To be continued.) No tree grows so well, no corn is so fruitful, as that which is set, or sown by the hand of a religious husbandman.-Hale. THE Scripture tells us of Joseph, that wheresoever he went, or with whomsoever he conversed, he brought a blessing with him. So Piety doubtless, wheresoever it walketh, leaves a blessing behind it, as the hare leaves the scent of her footing.-Hale. Ir is no more possible to maintain the spiritual stant retirements and taking times for reading, and of our bodies without a constant supply of meat and prayer, and meditation, than it is to maintain the life drink.-Archbp. Sharpe. It was a tale that passed among some of the heathen that Vulcan, offended with the men of Athens, told them that they should be but fools; but Pallas that favoured them, told them they should be fools indeed, is like to that of the men of Athens. Vulcan, the but folly should never hurt them. Beloved, our case devil, hath made us fools and weak, and so we are indeed of ourselves; but the Son of God, the true Pallas, the Wisdom of the Father, hath given us this gift that our weakness shall never hurt us: for, look what strength we lost in Adam, that with infinite advantage is supplied in Christ.-Hale's Golden Remains. NEW YEAR'S HYMN. They ring the Old Year out, O Saviour, kind and just, I know not-yet I sing, The world is cold and dark, O Saviour, kind and just, E. H. MITCHELL. THE BURIAL AT SEA. From his room to the deck they brought him drest, With his boots and stock and garments on, Then they wrapt his corse in the tarry sheet, And prepared him to seek the depths below, In that classical sea, whose azure vies CORRESPONDENCE. tion of 30th Nov. "E. F. L."-Accepted, with thanks. TO THE EDITOR. TIGER CATCHING.-Mr. Edward Brown, in his narrative of adventures on the Coast of Cochin-China, gives an amusing account of the Cochin-China tiger hunters. Many of the natives of Cochin-China (he says) "E. H." has our best thanks for her kind communicathis animal being valuable. They use a novel mode of obtain their livelihood by tiger-catching; the skin of ensnaring these savage beasts. Two Malays generally go in company, and travel over many parts of the country. Those who follow this business regularly have chops, or permits, from the Quong of Saigon, allowing them to build a hut for their use in any place they think fit. The hut is built on the top of four bamboos, from fifteen to twenty feet high; and, as a tiger cannot climb these, the two men can remain in it, and watch their snares in safety. The snare consists of large leaves, or sometimes pieces of paper about six inches square, covered on one side with a substance of the same nature as bird-lime, and containing a poison, the smallest particle of which, getting into the animal's eyes, causes instant and total blindness. They are laid about thickly, with the bird-lime side upwards, in the track of a tiger; and as surely as the animal puts his paw on one of the treacherous leaves, he becomes a victim; for, finding it stick to his foot, he shakes it, by which means other leaves adhere to it; he then probably rubs his paw over his head, in the attempt to rid himself of these leafy encumbrances, but they stick to his head and face; he then perhaps rolls himself on the ground, when he becomes fairly covered; and, while scratching and rubbing himself to get free, some of the poisonous bird-lime gets into his eyes and blinds him. He growls and roars in his agony, and this is the signal for his captors to come and dispatch him. The Malays then skin the animal, and take any part of the body that may be valuable. They leave the carcase, well strewed with more leaves, as a bait for other tigers. Other aninals, and birds also, they ensnare in the same manner. D. R. near Petworth, Dec. 7, 1861. SIR,-E. H. inquires whether all our English creepers wind from right to left. I extract the following from "The Microscope: its History, Construction, &c.," by Jabez Hogg, Routledge, page 249: "It is a curious fact, that mostly the spiral coils from right to left; and it has been suggested that the direction of the fibre may determine that in which the plant coils round an upright pole. The hop has left-handed spirals, and is a left-handed climber, which would therefore appear to support this theory." I must, however, add, that I have not confirmed this statement of Mr. Hogg's by any observation of my own. The book deserves a place in every scientific man's library.I am, sir, yours truly, J. Ñ. THE NEW PENNY MAGAZINE for February (No. 14) will be ready on the 25th January, and subsequent numbers will always be published one week in advance of the dates which they bear. Printed and published by JOHN CROCKFORD, at 10, Wellingtonstreet, Strand, London, W.C., in the County of MiddlesexWednesday, January 1, 1862, HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS. drag the loaded wain through the thick red not so. She was feeling deeply all the time, ITHIN THE LAST SIXTY YEARS a most wonderful change has taken place in our English roads. I don't mean to deny that bad roads may be found in any county of our muchpeopled land. I have seen a four-wheeled wagon so completely coated over with yellow mud that you could hardly say whether it was made of iron or wood, still less could you guess whether it had ever been painted green, red, blue, or party-coloured: nay, I have actually been obliged to pull up my own little fourwheel at a pond on the road-side, and give a man a three-penny bit to throw six or seven buckets of water over the wheels before I could venture to appear in a civilised village; and it is not six weeks since I had to leave the same, not very frail vehicle, three hundred yards from a farm house, at which I wished to call, and tread my way thither on the ridge of a narrow causeway thrown up by the kindness of the occupier, for the convenience of foot-visitors! But these are only trifling inconveniences in the by-ways of life. Time was when the highways were no better, and in many places worse; whereas now the farmer may in almost any part of the country take his well-groomed team to market, in fair weather, with spotless coats, and display the gaudy colours of his newly painted wagon undefiled by mud: while Who among my boy readers would not like the farm servant, male or female, may walk to to dabble with bare feet, on a warm summer church in polished boots, or bright Balmorals. day, in that clear shallow stream? Who would One of the surest signs of the great improve- not like to gather a glorious handful of those ment of our roads for foot-passengers is shown graceful ferns to adorn his table, or to press beby the almost total disappearance of pattens: tween the leaves of his herbarium? Who would which in twenty years time will probably be as not like to see those great snake-like creepers much unknown and forgotten as stage coaches clasping in their green-brown folds the are fast becoming in these days of railroads gigantic trees, and mingling their leaves and and telegraphs. One effect of the improve-flowers in one thick mass of brilliant foliage? ment in roads is the increased value of the lands through which they pass; and this is probably the reason why every little scrap of way-side common is now-a-days enclosed with a straight wire fence, and an even row of dwarf quicks; every rough picturesque bank levelled; and every quaint old thorn, holly, or scrub oak remorselessly grubbed: so that, unless one goes into the loneliest byways of Well, it is not a long, but, unless you choose remote country places, one can hardly find a your time well, a rough enough voyage from bit of way-side waste," with its golden gorse Southampton to these sea-girt islands, where bushes, its shy violets scenting the spring-you may find abundance of such lanes, and see breezes with their sweet fragrance; or, later in year, its tall stems of crimson-belled foxgloves; and if perchance, travelling along a more frequented road, one comes upon a few acres of green sward, dotted over with the twisted and gnarled stems of scrub-oaks, with their wind-beaten tops, flat, scarred, and awry (reminding one of the days of Robin Hood and his merry men) one may be sure those halfdozen acres, with their ancient weird oaks, and turf as nature made it, are deep in the meshes of Chancery. the What fun it would be for Master Monkey This affection Agnes could not feel for Thomas, perhaps, because his views and aims were so much lower than hers, perhaps, because she already felt it for somebody else. The day passed on busily, and the long shadows of evening were spreading over the meadows, when Agnes, who was employed in trimming up and watering the little flower-plot, heard a step coming up the road, and a voice articulated in a half whispering manner "Missus! missus! I say!" besides a curious mixture of French and Devonshire, unless it is much changed since I spent a couple of months on its red soil (I don't care to say how many years ago), has some picturesque lanes, carried like railway cuttings, six or eight feet below the level of the surrounding fields, bordered with If we have lost much beauty, by the opening high, grassy, flower-spangled banks, and out, straightening, and paving of our roads, (most unlike railways) dipping into the we certainly have gained much comfort, and deep valleys, and going up the sides of many real advantages by the change. steep hills, and over their tops, to the sore grief of the unfortunate horses that have to *We are apt to fancy that pattens were invented expressly to lift the tender feet of the feebler sex above the inud, and were never intended to be worn by men: but I have been assured by a neighbour, whose birthday is within the present century, that he perfectly remembers in his childhood seeing the Rev. Doctor, then vicar of the parish, making his way to church through puddle and mud, on high pattens with large iron rings; and on consulting the parish register I find the name of the Rev. A. B.——, LL.D., as late as 1811. I am this moment informed on good authority that the curate of the neighbouring parish, in more modern times, was accustomed, not only to wear pattens himself, but to carry his better half over the quagmires; a fact which does not speak in favour of my argument. S AGNES DALE. W. J. THE DEATH OF THE RIGHTEOUS. SOME OF MY READERS, if I am so fortunate as to have any, may have Dthought Agnes hard and ill-natured, or at best light and frivolous in her manner of treating Thomas, as I have described, on that bright summer morning. But in truth it was along the field path, and even in the recesses of the woods; and a child stooping to gather primroses has often cried out, "Look, mother, Old John has been by, here is the cross by the side of the road." I have often seen these crosses, and often and often have I wished that my journey through life might be sanctified by good deeds as this half-witted old man's rambles were marked by the sign of the cross. It was this extraordinary being who walked up the steps leading to the farm from the road, and leaning over the little green gate, looked into the garden where Agnes was busy "Missus! missus!,I say! 19 "Well, Old John, is that you? How do you do this fine evening? I suppose you want something, or else you wouldn't be here." "Why, 'deed I can't say, missus, I always wants a'most everything, as you do know. But now its Thomas Davies as I'm a looking for. I seed Philip Watkins not far off, so I 'spects Thomas is a good way, for them two isn't over fond of one another; pr'aps now, you knows the reason, missus," said he, in the coolest and most provoking manner possible. come forth from the contemplation of death as Moses came forth out of the cloud with his face all illumined by the glory of God. Death was once a messenger of terror: but now, seen by the eye of Faith, he becomes an angel of light, the blessed angel that is to join us for ever to our Redeemer. Thus felt the family of the aged labourer. They mourned not that he was taken away from earthly cares; they mourned not that he was taken before them to rejoice in the bliss they were looking forward to-his name was not banished from the language of their daily life, his chair was not removed from its usual place, the little flower border he took such a pride in was not allowed to remain uncultivated, and they spoke of him often and often amid household occupations, and the labour of the field, in the cold twilight and by the bright kitchen fire, not in the accents of pity, not in the tones so often used by those who look to the present for happiness rather than the future; but as of one who had gone on a far journey to a better country, as of one whom they would soon be with for ever and ever. "How should I know, John ?" replied It was all over; the gathering of friends, Agnes. "But now why don't you say what the dark funeral procession, and the solemn you've got to say, if you really have got any-farewell; and the bereaved ones returned thing to say." Why, because you never axed me, missus, you only axed me if I wanted summut, and now I think on it, I does want a new hat, shocking bad, and if you'll speak a good word to Muster Hawkins for me, or may be, to Muster Watkins." "Well, I'll see about it; and now good bye to you" said Agnes, who did not half like the rough jokes of the old man. Stay a bit, stay a bit, missus, I'm not agoin' to get a scolding from Muster Davies, all along o' you, and if you don't tell me where to find him I can't give him this here message, and then, may be, his old father will die without setting eyes on him." "What, old Mr. Davies dying ?" said Agnes in alarm. "Ees, sure, he was took ill last Friday; and has been getting worse ever since; but just you ax me in to take a glass of cider, missus, and I'll tell'ee all about it." “No, thank you," said Agnes, “I know very well what would be the end of that. You go and tell Thomas; he's in the hayfield, you might have heard his voice just now, if your ears were half as sharp as your tongue. Well, make haste; off with you!" "Very well, missus, and may be I may come up to the house afterwards for the cider." * * * * to their homes with the consciousness that they had. one friend less on earth, but that one more soul was watching over them from heaven. Many had followed his body to the grave, for he was beloved by all who knew him, and when the faithful pastor spoke of him in his sermon the next Sunday, and told of his virtues and of his good example, all wept, for to all he had ever been a friend and a brother. Even the stern Thomas's heart was melted, and he wept more bitterly than all the rest, because his soul was not soothed by Trust, and his heart nearly broke as he looked on the old fashioned Bible, his father's last legacy, in which was inscribed with a trembling hand: Thomas Davies, The last gift of his affectionate father. "Lay up your treasure in heaven." CHAP. V. PHILIP AND HIS GRANDFATHER. There is one person I have already alluded to who must now be more fully introduced to the reader, particularly as he is a great favourite of mine. I mean Philip Watkins, suspected by many in the parish of taking a tender interest in Agnes Dale. In this instance "Yes, if you be quick; not unless." the village gossips were correct, a very wonOff went the old man to give his gloomy derful thing, because, in general, those reports message. It is a wonder, you will say, that prevail most which have not the slightest founan errand of any importance should have been dation. Philip was an active, industrious entrusted to one little better than a born idiot, labourer, and, in the opinion of some, his only but amongst other curious and rare qualities failing was his great good nature. Others thought found in Old John was that of repeating a this same failing his greatest attraction; but message in almost exactly the same words in be that as it may, whenever an old woman which it had been delivered to him-in which wanted her garden trimmed up it was always, many wiser heads, many warmer hearts, and "Oh, Phil. will do it." Whenever an infirm many more important members of society man wished to be helped along with his load of might take from him a most valuable lesson. wood, it was always, "Oh, Phil. will carry it," and many is the little girl whom he has Yes, it was true, and old Thomas Davies helped with her heavy red pitcher down to the died. His hoary head seemed surrounded with well, and many the boy who would have puzzled the rays of eternal happiness, as the snow-long over his next day's task if he had not covered mountain is illumined by the beams of met the good-natured Philip, who explained it the rising sun; and his last moments were as to him, and cheered him up with a few words calm and peaceful as his life had been. O of encouragement. Many will wonder where death! thou art beautiful and lovely, coming to a happy old age: and thy touch is that of no icy unfeeling hand; but the gentle caress of an angel sent to conduct the departing spirit to the mansion of everlasting joy. And it is wonderful to watch the last moments of the dying; it is wonderful to imagine the workings of the Holy Spirit within the awe-struck soul; it is wonderful to imagine the heavenly greetings which that soul will soon receive. O, it is a holy and a blessed privilege to watch the last moments of the pious; and our souls may he found time for all this; but it is a curious fact that we can generally do what we like, and some people can find time to idle in the alehouse, who yet pride themselves upon being too industrious to do a good turn to a neigh bour. Philip liked to be good-natured; no doubt he was often imposed upon; there is a proverb which says that good-natured people always are: but Philip did not alter his conduct on that account; if he found anybody out in a deception, he did not take it for granted that all the rest of the world was in a league to deceive him, as many unfortunate people do, but he still pursued his mission of helping and comforting, and he found his reward in the many pleasant smiles that welcomed him wherever he appeared, and in the approving voice of his own conscience. Truly, "he that is of a merry heart hath a continual feast." This same good nature is a pleasant virtue, and one much undervalued; some grave, sedate minds consider it foolish; and if true wisdom consists in knowing how to make the most of everything, and caring more for self than for all the rest of the world put together, then Philip certainly was a fool, for "charity seeketh not her own." Often did his willingness to assist everybody get him into trouble, but whenever this happened his constant excuse and consolation was, "Well, you know, it was all out of good nature." It was quite a pleasure to see his happy face as he went whistling to his work in the early morning, or to meet him coming home through the evening dew, for never lived a being who more fully obeyed the precept "Rejoice evermore." Any one would have fancied from his appearance that his home must have been the happiest in the world; but this was far from being the case. He was an orphan,, and had nobody on earth belonging to him save old Joseph Holder his maternal grandfather, with whom he lived. This old man was a miser; he had been a tradesman, and had gained enough wealth to have kept them both in great comfort, but his ruling passion was the love of his money-bags, and to part with one of his gold pieces was as painful to him as it would have been to cut off one of his fingers. Philip paid him for his board and lodging, and very nearly got starved to death in consequence; but prudence and duty alike forbade him to seek another abode, firstly, because his grandfather was old and helpless; secondly, because if he offended him the old man was quite capable of leaving his money away from him. Let it not be supposed, however, for a moment that Philip's care and attendance was entirely owing to interested motives, he would have done the same for him, and more, if he had had not a penny to leave; but as his only chance of winning Agnes Dale's uncle to consent to his union with her (even if Agnes herself agreed to become his wife) depended upon his producing a reasonable share of this world's goods, it was necessary as well as proper that he should not offend the miser. Joseph Holder's cottage was the most cheerless dwelling in the village. The thin line of smoke that came from the chimney spoke of a dull comfortless hearth, and the inside of the abode was even more desolate than the outside. In a wicker chair by the side of a fire, seemingly composed of two red cinders and a heap of ashes, sat the miser. He was a tall old man, but bowed down as if he had been carrying a sack of gold on his back all his life. The snowy hair, the finely shaped head, the strongly marked features spoke of venerable wisdom; but the pale watery blue eyes, the thin lips, the lines of thought and care and worry showed a nature hard, grasping, and mean-spirited. There he sat, watching the poor half-starved cat, half-starved because her master was a great deal too stingy to afford the cheese to bait the traps with, and because the mice were too wise to come forth from their hiding-place on a fruitless chase after crumbs that never fell. There he sat half asleep, waking up from time to time to shovel up the ashes, and throw them again on the top of the two poor red cinders which were vainly endeavouring to burn. There were no signs of supper, no trace of expectation on the old man's face. This was the home to which merry Phil. Watkins returned after a hard day's work. "Well grandfather, how do you find yourself this fine evening? Got any supper ready ?" said Phil., as he crossed the threshold. Supper," grunted the old man, "what do |