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appearance, was thickly beset with curved thorns or spines (whence the animal's name), nearly all of which were more or less damaged. I know of nothing that I could liken these thorns or spikes to, but the thorns or spikes which may be seen on the stem of an old rose bush,-with this exception, that the spikes of the fish are larger. From its position in the water, though close to the rocks, I could not make out its girth in any part whatever, but, from where the head had joined the body to the tip of the tail, it was about two yards in length. Having fully satisfied myself that the present specimen, from its decomposed state and the holes perforated in it by the gulls, was beyond the state for preservation, I again left it, that the impatient birds might once more descend and recommence their banquet.

"I now wished to get to a sandy beach, at some distance to my left, known as Greenside, from which I knew that a path led to the top of the cliff. On my way thither, I met with a very serious obstacle in the form of a huge rock, whose base extended into the sea; and, as a matter of course, as I could not get round it, I required to get over it. I was then far from being in a condition to climb a rock. However, I had no alternative. The tide, then about to come in, would have shown me no mercy. Accordingly, my gun was once more on my back, and on hands and knees, for feet here were of no use, and with the aid of my mouth, I succeeded in crawling over, and with some further difficulty, I contrived to reach Greenside. Instead

of holding on to Gardenstown, I turned my face towards home, where I arrived betwixt five and six in the evening,-with the impression of the last day of 1850 so deeply stamped upon my body and mind, that it will not easily, if ever, be obliterated from either."

S. Smiles.

XXII.

TO MY GRANDMOTHER.
(Suggested by a Picture by Mr. Romney.)

Under the elm a rustic seat
Was merriest Susan's pet retreat
To merry make.

THIS relative of mine,

Was she seventy and nine
When she died?

By the canvas may be seen
How she look'd at seventeen,
As a bride.

Beneath a summer tree,

Her maiden reverie

Has a charm;

Her ringlets are in taste;

What an arm! . . . what a waist

For an arm!

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Her rounded form was lean,
And her silk was bombazine:
Well I wot

With her needles would she sit,
And for hours would she knit,—
Would she not?

Ah, perishable clay;

Her charms had dropt away
One by one:

But if she heaved a sigh

With a burthen, it was, "Thy
Will be done."

In travail, as in tears,

With the fardel 3 of her years
Overprest,

In mercy she was borne

Where the weary and the worn
Are at rest.

O, if you now are there,

And sweet as once you were,
Grandmamma,

This nether world agrees

'Twill all the better please

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XXIII.

THE CAMPAGNA.*1

BUT if it be true, as I think it is, that a tour through Italy is less interesting and exciting now than it was years ago, yet it is no less true that of all countries in the world, Italy is that which best repays the traveller. Deeper feelings may be awakened in Palestine

Those holy fields,

Over whose acres walked those blessed feet
Which, eighteen hundred years ago, were nailed,
For our advantage, on the bitter cross.2

But scarcely a trace or vestige remains to connect the Palestine of to-day with that of our Lord and His apostles. Of the city of David and the temple of Solomon the sentence has been fulfilled : "Verily, I say unto you, there shall not be left one stone upon another." There is nothing to mark the site of Calvary. Only a doubtful tradition bids us "come, see the place where the Lord lay." The traveller is perplexed, and his enthusiasm chilled by endless controversies and contradictory assertions as to the holy places. But in Rome the history of two thousand five hundred years—nearly half the whole duration of man upon the earth—is recorded in contemporary monuments. Stand upon the

*From Italian Pictures, by kind permission of the Religious Tract Society.

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