and so permit a ring of light to be seen round it: at most a phenomenon of short duration in these latitudes some six or seven minutes. A few points in this path are computed, and their positions given in the Nautical Almanac for the whole length of the line. For the sake of our English observers, a larger proportion of points are separately computed for such parts of the path as cross this country. It seems scarcely worth while to go much into detail as to the places in which a partial eclipse will be visible. The general lines of it are given in the usual map of the Nautical Almanac-we may say, however, that it embraces the whole of Europe, about 1,500 miles wide of the north of Africa, and the greater part of Asia, to about 120 degrees of east longitude. Borneo and the larger islands to the west and south of it, Sumatra and Java, will also see some portion of the partial eclipse. The following table will complete all that we deem it necessary to present to our readers on this subject. We shall not think our labour lost, if but a few of them should be induced from this account to seek more solid information upon it than our space wil permit us to afford to them. The greatest duration of the annulus will be about 5m. 59s. At Greenwich the eclipse is annular, and Partial phase begins (Greenwich mean time) October 9. Annular Greatest Phase Annular Phase ends Partial. 6 14-2 A.M. At Greenwich, the sun will rise at 6h. 40m. At Cambridge, and Edinburgh, and Dublin, the eclipse is partial, beginning before sunrise. EXTRACTS FROM NEW WORKS. THE LABOUR OF BREAKING UP A CAMP. "The breaking up of a long-standing camp is a scene of no trifling bustle and confusion. The previous day is usually one of considerable trouble to those who have suffered their marching establishment to get out of order; and when it is requisite to replace a camel or a bullock, the new comer, even if found (and that is generally at a ruinous price), not unfrequently evinces the most marked repugnance to tents or bullock-trunks. Yet, however great the difficulty, the peremptory necessity of the habitation being moved before next morning, causes all to be prepared at sunset, either by a reduction of baggage, or increase of cattle, save the more provident campaigners, who rectify such deficiencies without delay. The earliest practicable hours are kept by all off duty, and two hours after sunset the camp (if well regulated) is quiet enough, unless a horse breaks loose and sets the whole brigade in a state of ferment; for all seem to take a deep interest in the progress of any mad animal who tears through the camp, with ropes and pegs flying in wild confusion about his heels. As night advances, even these stray madcaps betake themselves to rest, and the quiet is only disturbed by the hourly tramp of patrols or the challenge of a sentry. This gloom and stillness are suddenly dissipated by the shrill startling blast of the trumpet, wakening all around to consciousness and activity. The loud and continued neigh from the pickets, and the angry remonstrances of the camels, amidst the extensive buzz of human voices and barking of dogs, tell that man and brute are both aware of the time having come for their allotted duties. Sticks and dry grass raked into pyramids are sending forth volumes of smoke in one place, and in another are rising into high crackling fires, round which may be seen groups of dusky figures squatted together, inhaling their morning hookahs, or spreading their long bony hands to the flames, and listlessly regarding their more assiduous brethren occupied in striking the tents, or fitting loads on the backs of the beasts of burden. But think not, my lazy fire-worshipper, this indolence is unobserved; the eye of the occupant of yonder tent is upon you: he advances softly towards the fire, his arm is raised, and the descending lattie causes a momentary scene of flight and confusion which is immediately succeeded by a zealous attention to duty, proving the salutary force of the argumentum ad baculum. Although this is not an orthodox, logical, or even legal argument, it is, nevertheless, frequently used in India, and is generally conclusive. Next morning, the voice, unaccompanied by manual exercise, will produce the desired effect. The loads being packed, and all the tents, save three or four lazy stragglers, having disappeared, the second trumpet sends its shrill echoes through the lines, and gives warning that the treadmill will soon be at work. Beware of that camel's mouth gaping close to your hand in the dark, or he will spoil it for holding a rein or a sabre; and beware the treacherous tent-peg, which lurks in savage gloom for the shins of the unwary. 'It is no use cursing the peg. Why did you not get out of its way when you found it was not inclined to get out of yours?' cries a facetious neighbour, as you stoop to rub the lacerated shin, and narrowly escape being trampled by an elephant, who is hustling off with a few hundredweight of canvass and tent-poles hanging about him. The third trumpet and a cup of boiling coffee generally accompanied each other, if your khansanah belong to the right Dean Swift's breed; and it is no punishment to insist on his drinking it himself the man would swallow a cup of cayenne and fire, without winking. The troops are formed in dusky masses on their alarm posts; the commandingofficer rides along the line; the word of command is given, and passed down the squadrons; the welcome note for the march is heard, and the tramping of the steeds raises an impenetrable cloud of dust around the column, as we cheerfully turn our backs on Caubul, most probably for ever; the band prophetically striking up, Ha til mi tulidh, or something which I mistook for it."Military Sketches by a Cavalry Officer. Poetry. [In Original Poetry, the Name, real or assumed, of the Author is printed in Small Capitals, under the title; in Selections it is printed in Italics at the end.] THE MAIDEN'S CHOICE. c. "My Daughter, look out o'er the far-spreading land, "My Mother, sweet Mother, then bid him come in, "He bringeth a treasure more lustrous than gold, More rich than the rich, and more strong than the strong." CHARADE. A. WE have furl'd our sails, we have moor'd our bark, Beneath St. Elmo's fortress dark; Ave Maria! thy guardian hand Has brought us safe to Valetta's strand! Ocean has lifted his waves in vain, Tho' those howling blasts and that rolling main Our labouring prow might scarcely stem; So now our first step on shore we turn, Where the censer smokes and the altar lights burn In the church of St. John of Jerusalem. Where in their marble panoply The grim old red-cross warriors lie, We'll thank our Ladie for her aid,— In the long drawn aisle Of the Gothic pile This day our first shall be duly said. Spread we the onward sail again, And seek we Syria's sun-burnt strand; Farewell for a while to the christian strain, For the Moslem rules in Holy Land. Yet my second hath witness'd full oft the might Skull upon skull and bone upon bone, He leans upon his staff, bowed down with bitter grief and pain, And calls, till o'er that narrow sea the island rings again : "Robber, from yonder dungeon-rock restore to me my child! Her harp and song, so sweet, the weary days of age beguiled. But rudely thou didst bear her off while dancing on the strand; It bows my aged head, it leaves on thee shame's lasting brand." Forth from his rocky cavern then the tall wild Robber sprang; He swung his giant sword around, and on his shield it rang. "Thou hast full many warders stout, why did they let her go? So many warriors serve thee, none for her will strike a blow ?" Yet moved no warrior from the ranks, nor uttered one a tone; The blind King turned himself around :-"Am I then all alone?" Then grasped the father's hand the youngest son with pressure warm: "O let me in the combat prove the strength that nerves my arm!" "O Son, the foeman's giant strength what valour can withstand? And yet, right noble pith bespeaks the pressure of thy hand. Bring then the trusty blade, the theme of many a Scald's high praise; And should'st thou fall, in yonder flood may end my weary days!" And hark! the boat rides o'er the sea, with rushing, foaming sound. The blind King stands with listening ear, and all are still around; Till sounds of clashing sword and shield come from the other shore, And battle-cries, and shouts of rage, and Echo's hollow roar. The old man calls in fearful joy, "Say, what may now be seen? My sword, I know its warlike tone, it rings so clear and keen." The Robber falls! a bloody grave his meet reward shall be. Hail, best of champions, valiant Prince! hail, spirit bold and free!" And all is still; the King now stands with listening, anxious ear. "What comes so fast across the sea? the rush of oars I hear.” Thy gallant son, with sword and shield, rows swiftly o'er the water, And with him, in her sun-bright hair, Gunilda comes, thy daughter." From the high cliff the blind old man shouts "Welcome!" o'er the wave. "Bliss in my age I now shall find, and honour in my grave. My son, beside me lay the sword with tone so clear and strong! And thou, Gunilda, rescued one, sing thou my funeral song." Miscellaneous. ANONYMOUS CORRESPONDENCE, Or all detestable things this is the most odious:Friend may censure friend, foe may vent his spleen, but let it never be done under the cover, of anonymous writ ing. It is indeed a sneaking world, a cowardly world, for it kills more from behind a shelter than it dare attack in the open plain: but what dear ties have either been sundered or loosened by this fiend of mischief; what hopes of love blighted, what deeds of charity delayed, what virtues, the most exalting and dignifying to human nature, sullied, by this foul invisible spirit! Friendships over which time could exercise no control,which distance or poverty could not shake or alter,— have been for ever chilled by suspicion, or completely destroyed by anonymous malice. Neither shall they be wholly guiltless who believe these secret calumniators of a man's character. Truth, be it remembered, requires no covert, no alteration of garb, for how possibly can it assume a lovelier one than its own? Burn, then, these unauthorised epistles; look for the signature before you glance at the matter; and thus this enemy of truth and plain dealing (for such is the anonymous correspondent) will be foiled in his attempt to pervert innocence, and your own bosom will still have the satisfaction of thinking well of those friends and neighbours whom this demon of mischief would destroy.-Walter Kemp. INDEX. A. Carpenter and the Magic Statue, 413. Childhood, 32. Child's Lament, A, 208. Chivalry in England, Rise and Decline of, Christmas, Lines written at, 48. Churchyard, The, 336. Clothes Moth, The, 210. Coffee, Nutriment in, 382. Coloured Glass and Enamel, 17. Coronation Stone, The, 258. Cottage Home, The, 50. Count Gero of Montfort, 80. Country Sketches, 236, 254, 267, 311, 363, Court, my First Visit to, 344. Court of Star Chamber, The, 297, 327. Meaning of Undine, 290. Mysteries of Vegetable Life, 178. On the Fascinating Power of Serpents, On the Theory of Light, 317. Origin and Nature of Prairies, 70. Poetry and Poets of the Age, 386. Sound, and the Sense of Hearing, 89. Temperature of the Beehive in Summer, Temperature of Insects, 312. Trap-door Spiders, 334. Eton Montem, Last Days of, 233. Extraordinary Mirage, 381. D. Damascus, Journey to, 299. Decorations of New Houses of Parliament, Description of an Old Garden, 159. Diary of a Journey from Alexandria to Diary of a Wiltshire Curate, passages from Discovery of the Steam Engine, 74. Distance of the Earth from fixed Stars, Domestic Life, Sketch of, 315, 332, 342. Doom of our World, 382. F. False Merchant, The, 14. Far, far away, 192. Father Eustace, 199. Feet of the Chinese Women, 112. Finland, an Adventure in the Gulf of, 296. Flood at Dresden, Account of Great, 98, Footsteps before the Flood, 382. Fortune's Wanderings in China, 141. Frank Fairlegh, 104, 117, 134, 146, 164, Frederick Halm, 380. Fury, Loss of Her Majesty's Ship, 41. Gigantic Bird Nests, 381. Glass Manufacture, 148, 170, 188. Grave of Isaac Walton, 236. Great Events from Little Causes, 130. Guizot, Life and Writings of Madame, 153, Guizot, Moral Reflections, 300, 310. H. Halm, Memoir of Frederick, 380. Hampden, Autumn Morning at, 311. Harem, Interior of a, 351. Harper, The, 145. Hastings, Battle of, 354. Hearing, on Sound and the Sense of, 89. Henri de Nemours, or, Fraternal Affection, Hertingfordbury, Village of, 267. Hever, Summer's Morning at, 254. House where Shakspeare was born, 302. Man, Insignificance of, 383. Manufacture of Glass, The, 148, 170, 188. Mary, Queen of Scots, 63. Mode of Breeding Leeches in Scinde, 208. Moral Reflections, by M. Guizot, 300, 310. Music, Superiority of Vocal over Instru- Mysteries of Vegetable Life, 178. The Harper, 145. The Lay of the Sword, 304. The Return of the Sennerin, 16. The Summer is Over, 288. The Vision of St. John's Eve, 176. The Yellow Leaf, 160. To, on reading some of her former True Walter, 32. Nymph of the Fountain, The, 328, 348, Nuremberg, 230, 251, 270. I. Icebergs, Approach of, 383. Insects, the Temperature of, 312. Iron, Manufacture of, 29, 34, 54. Italian Peasant Girl in Prison, 81. J. Journal of a Diary from Alexandria to K. Kenilworth Castle, 391. Kenyon, Anecdote of Lord, 16. L. Lancashire, Sketch of Men and Manners Last Days of Eton Montem, 233. Leeches in Scinde, Mode of Breeding, 208. Life and Writings of Mad. Guizot, 153, 168, Life, A Parable of, 410. Life, A Sketch from, 128. Light, on the Theory of, 317. Light, Velocity of, 382. Lines addressed to an English Lady, 160. Lines written at Christmas, 48. Little Printer, The, 393. Living and the Dead, 213. Lost Hope, The, 399. London, Temperature of, 382. Louvain, Rambles in, 88. Lycia, Spratt and Forbes's Travels in,61, 77 6. Namur and Huy, 111. 8. Antwerp, 166. 9. Malines, 206. Readings in History, 258, 297, 327. Reading the Will, 33. Readers, Address to our, 409. Remains of Malmesbury Abbey Church, Sketch of Domestic Life, 315, 332, 342. Society of Arts, The, 50 Sound and the Sense of Hearing, 89. Spiders, Trap-door, 334. Splügen, Passage of the, 94 Spratt and Forbes's Travels in Lycia, 61, St. Alban's, Chronicle of, 172, 190. Steam Engine, Discovery of, 74. |