realization in our great general, although written to commemorate another beautiful hero, whose character combined the sweetest gentleness with truest bravery— existed in the annals of our race, and the 66 that the stainless and heroic heart that Ah! how varied the feelings with which can endure hardness as a good soldier," the children of men look back upon the will at last be presented, when the war-years of life-how varied the emotions fare is over," without spot or wrinkle or any such thing." It is most healthful and invigorating to contemplate such possibilities to reflect on what may be done in human nature and for it by the Divine strength and grace; and how a man may be raised above self-seeking and meanness, and cowardice and time-serving; and how a man may have a heart reflecting uprightness like a mirror, and enduring, firm, and faithful as a rock. More than one of our periodicals has identified Wordsworth's "Happy Warrior" with Havelock : "Who is the happy Warrior? Who is he That every man in arms would wish to be? It is the generous spirit who, when brought Among the tasks of real life, hath wrought Upon the plan that pleased his boyish thought; Whose high endeavors are an inward light Who, doomed to go in company with Pain, mon strife Or mild concerns of ordinary life, Great issues, good or bad, for human kind, won. Who, if he rise to station or command, with which they say: "I have finished!" course." ry When we read, in the course of history, of men whose sudden appearance startled the world by the prodigies of their brave- who appeared to save it by their wisdom, or by the inventiveness of their genius, we can not but wonder where they have been concealed. How is it, we have said, while the world is so full of incompetents and incapables, that they have been hidden so long? Alas! the course of the noblest and the bravest has usually been concealed. Has it not usually been the way of the world, "to keep folly at the helm and wisdom under the hatches ?" "High buildings have a low foundation." Fame, narrow at its source, like a small river, broadens like an ocean at its close. God only knows the illustrious clouds of witnesses who gather around our path and over our career, who have been and are nameless," as Sir Thomas Brown would say, "in worthy deeds." Depend upon it, the most illustrious lives-lives dignified by the most eminent holiness, the most exalted self-denial, and beautified by the most celestial affections-have ever been unwritten, save "in the Lamb's book of life." "The Canaanitish woman," says the dear old writer, "lives more happily The whole of that fine poem finds its without a name than Herodias with one. And who would not rather have been the good thief than Pilate ?" from thence-from Bishopswearmouth, in Sunderland, of a respectable father, who had not only founded his fortunes, but had also lost them again-Henry Havelock claimed his parentage. A bragging bully, who has impertinently elbowed his way to power, easily pushes aside that modest merit, to whose wisdom in a moment of emergency he Is it not characteristic of the human will be compelled to appeal, and on whose nature of the boy, that when he was about strong arm he will be compelled to lean. seven years of age, from a very high Great moments and great emergencies re-bough he was attempting to take a bird's veal truly great men, as surely as ordinary times and ordinary circumstances conceal them. It is one of the most eminent characteristics of a truly illustrious man, that he does not desire greatness, either for himself or for its own sake; and he will be concealed amidst "The old patrician trees, so great and good," on the farm or in the cottage, at the villages of Hampden, St. Ives, or Lostwithiel; but the occasion calls, and he obeys and comes forward. It is to such a moment that we owe the eminence of Havelock. You will not judge the time misplaced if I keep it, this morning, with some notices of the great soldier and his course. It has passed in comparative obscurity, and but few glimpses can be obtained; but the few illustrate the whole, and the early morning of the day illustrates its closing evening. The first incidents especially are in keeping with those legends which generally surround, with a shadowy and romantic cloudland, the cradles and the childhoods of eminent men. His name instantly suggests his ancestry-as a descendant of those strong Northmen who settled in the North of England, and nest, the branch broke, and he fell down; the boughs broke his fall, or there prob ably the young hero had terminated his career; as it was, he lay on the ground insensible: when he recovered from the stunning effects of his fall, he was asked if he did not feel frightened when the branch snapped, and he felt himself falling. "No," said he, "I did not think of being frightened; I had enough to do to think of the eggs, for I thought they were sure to be smashed to pieces!" It is a small incident; but the answer is the very soul of all truly great character-the entire forgetfulness of self in the object pursued, whether that object be in childhood a bird's nest, or in old age the relief of Lucknow. And this little incident is mentioned of courage and forethought at twelve, when seeing an infuriated dog worrying a sheep, he did not merely fly before the dog with force to meet brutality with brutality, but made a rope from a haystack near at hand, threw it round the dog's neck, and then threw the dog into a neighboring pond to cool and recover, and so walked coolly himself away. Thus, you see, nature laid the foundations in a truly noble human character, and divine grace afterwards glorified it with "the seeds of the kingdom." From the British Quarterly. RESIDENCE ABOVE THE CLOUDS-THE PEAK OF TENERIFFE.* In the summer of 1856 the yacht Tita- | waters on her way to the island of Tenenia-the property of Mr. Robert Ste- riffe. She carried a little cargo of scienphenson, M.P.-was tripping across the *Teneriffe, an Astronomer's Experiment; or Specialties of a Residence above the Clouds. By C. PIAZZI SMYTH, F.R.S.S.L. & E., F.R.A.S., etc. Illustrated with Photo - Stereographs. London: Lovell Reeve. 1858, tific instruments. She had also an astronomer on board. Professor Piazzi Smyth -that was his name is well known as the official inspector of the Scottish skies. Why, therefore, should a gentleman who is in charge of the Heavens in the north ern part of Her Majesty's dominions be steering for the Canaries with a park of barometers, telescopes, photographic cameras, and other instruments suited for a philosophical campaign? The reason was this. Advised by the Astronomer-Royal, the Lords of the Admiralty had resolved to dispatch a scientific missionary to some southern mountain for the purpose of determining how far the art of observation might be improved if conducted at a considerable height. The atmosphere is good, very good, in its relation to the human lungs; and its clouds are excellent, very excellent, as the carriers of moisture and the dispensers of fatness for the soil. But to the astronomer they are often productive of grave annoyance. How frequently, after waiting impatiently for the extinction of the day, are his hopes of starry study frustrated by the thick mists which seem to muddy the air from top to bottom! How easily are his telescopes spiked by the drops of an impertinent nimbus! When some fine celestial transaction-doubly precious from its rarity-is shut out from view by a thick screen of clouds, must he not feel like a man, who, after coming to witness a new drama, sees the curtain suddenly descend, and learns that the play must be performed with this impenetrable vail between? Nor is it vapor alone with which the astronomer has to contend. In such delicate matters as telescopic observation, any disturbances in the atmosphere, whether due to heat, motion, foreign ingredients, or otherwise, may seriously affect his conclusions. Phenomena like the mirage, Fata Morgana, inverted ships, and spectral castles, shows what pranks of vision may be occasioned by the irregular refraction of light in its passage through the air. Considering that the astronomer is placed at the bottom of a great aerial ocean, through the whole thickness of which the rays must dive before they can enter his instruments, we might almost as well despair of obtaining perfect results as a scientific merman who should come out of his coral cave in the bed of the sea, and point his tube to the surface in the hope of obtaining a steady image of the vessels riding on the billows. Newton, in his Optics, asserted that telescopes could not be so constructed as to avoid the confusion of rays arising from the "tremors of the atmosphere." He 66 saw but one remedy; and that was to enter a serene and quiet air such as may be found on the tops of the highest mountains above the grosser clouds." Bacon, in his New Atlantis, says that the noble corporation of philosophers who belonged to Solomon's House had lofty towers, some half a mile in stature, which were built upon hills so as to obtain a total elevation of three miles at the least. These were used for the "view of divers meteors, as winds, rain, snow, hail, and some of the fiery meteors also;" for, upon the tops, hermit-observers, astronomical anchorites, were stationed to report what was going on in the upper air. But Newton's suggestion was long neglected, and Bacon's towers have never yet been discovered. It was not until the year 1856 that any formal attempt was made to employ a mountain as an observatory, and to put one third of the atmosphere out of the way of the astronomer's instruments. The Peak of Teneriffe was selected. Soaring to the height of 10,700 feet above the sea, in its more accessible parts, and situated in a nearly tropical latitude, that famous beacon was deemed an excellent eyrie for an observer. An expedition was accordingly equipped. Government gave £500. Mr. Stephenson lent his yacht. Professor Smyth offered his science and experience, and away went the astronomer of Scotland to take up his residence for a few weeks "In regions mild of calm and serene air, Above the smoke and stir of this dim spot Which men call earth." He soon arrived in the Canarian Archipelago. This little family of islands consists of seven individuals. Their physiog nomy is decidedly volcanic. There is no mistaking it any more than the carbuncled visage of the drunkard. Once they were thought to be the relics of a great continent which lies drowned beneath the surges of the Atlantic. Poets or poetical historians hailed them as the " Happy Isles "-simply, we imagine, because they wanted a site for a pretty fiction, and thought it would be safest from disturbance if carried out to a considerable distance at sea. But to plain men of prose, these rocky pimples look marvelously like a number of volcanic cones which have been elevated from the bed of the ocean. You might fancy they had forced their way to the surface, panting and strug gling, to breathe the free air of heaven, and give vent to the fires which were consuming their interior. Tallest and largest of these Plutonic excrescences in the Archipelago, is the Island of Teneriffe. Its Peak, which voyagers assert they have seen at a distance of a hundred miles and upwards, was hidden from the eyes of the new visitors by drifting masses of cloud, but suddenly there was a rent in the vail of vapor, and through that opening they beheld the monarch mountain of the group gleaming in the glorious sunshine as if to tempt them to land and do homage at his feet. It was but for a few moments, however. The mists soon filled up the fissure, the drapery was drawn again around his form, and the vision was 66 taken up into heaven," as if it were too precious for a lengthened look. They landed at Santa Cruz, where the prodigious heaving of the ocean under the pressure of the trade-winds sometimes hid the tops of the highest steeples in the town, and compelled the vessels in the roadstead to perform the most preposterous gymnastics. Other and very different expeditions have entered the same bay and been tossed on the same breakers. It was here that Nelson came in the month of July, 1797, to crown his head with "laurel or cypress." In the darkness of the night six divisions of boats set out for the mole, and on nearing it, the assailants gave a right lusty huzza which drew upon them a storm of fire from the cannon and muskets of the Spaniards. Some of the boats were swamped in the surf; some reached the landing-place and the men swept it clear of its defenders; but the crushing discharges from the fortress mowed them down in turn and made it impossible to proceed. One hapless cutter, the Fox, with 180 souls on board, was struck by a shot, and went down, scattering her crew upon the waters. Of these, eighty-three alone were rescued from death. The gallant Trowbridge, having lost his mark in the gloom of the night, pulled for the shore under the citadel, and effected a landing. They waited in the Great Square expecting every moment to be joined by the Admiral and his contingent; but day broke and no Admiral appeared. Then, perceiving that he had only a small force of some 340 men to oppose to many thousands of the enemy, Trowbridge sent a message to the Governor, declaring that he would burn the town unless he were allowed to retire unmolested. To this bold proposition Don Juan Antonio Gutierrez thought it most prudent to assent, and the British withdrew to their ships with a loss of 250 men. Where was Nelson? Whilst landing on the mole, an early bullet pierced his elbow, and he was removed to the nearest ship in order that the limb might be amputated. He became a "left-handed Admiral;" deemed himself a disabled trunk, and asked for a frigate "to convey the remains of his carcass to England" that he might make room for a "sounder man to serve the State." England should have answered him as the spirited maiden replied to her lover who was so dreadfully mutilated in a battle on one of the American lakes that he offered to release her from her engagement-"Tell him if he has but body enough left to hold his soul, I will have him." Far more brilliant, or, at least, far less disastrous in its results, was the scene which took place in the year 1657, when Robert Blake rode into the harbor of Santa Cruz. The silver fleet, freighted with the produce of the Peruvian mines, was there. For this precious flotilla the bold sea-general had long been on the watch; but, wearied with the delay, he came to seek it in the Canaries. It was bravely protected: forts with powerful ordnance, earthworks manned by swarms of marksmen, great ships of war waiting the signal to pour forth their shattering broadsides, were all prepared to rain death upon the expected Englishmen. To enter that harbor with his battered vessels seemed to be an act of heroic lunacy on the part of the British commander; for if once in, how could he withdraw from the fire of the land batteries, in the teeth of the steady "Trades," even if he should succeed in annihilating the naval force of the Spaniards? But the Nelson of the Commonwealth, springing from his sick bed, dashed into the bay, and, before night, every ship which belonged to the enemy was burnt or sunk! No sooner was the terrible work completed than a rare, but fortunate turn in the wind occurred; and his vessels were carried out to sea by this "protestant" breeze, as the contrary current had carried them in. Well might the Span iards console themselves, as Lord Claren- | The sand was lifted up and launched in don remarks, by asserting that they had been beaten by devils, and not by men. Very different was the reception accorded to Professor Smyth's pacific expedition. The Spanish authorities witnessed the invasion of their territory without distrust, though, when an excursion is undertaken purely in the interests of science, we are scarcely disposed to look upon the mere permission to traverse the island at will as an act of conspicuous "liberality." The first duty, however, was to fix upon a suitable station for a mountain observatory. It must not be lower than 4000 feet above the sea, for it were, the clouds of the region would drown the astronomer's vision as effectually as a London fog. Nor must it be too high, for then access would be laborious, and communication with the nether world unpleasantly interrupted. To drag their astronomical artillery up to the summit of the true Peak, more than 12,000 feet in all, appeared as formidable an undertaking as it was to transport cannon across the pass of St. Bernard; and even if that could be accomplished, the hot vapors discharged from the crater would probably vitiate the observations they intended to make. A hill called Guajara was finally selected. Its height was nearly 9000 feet. Next in stature to the Peak, it was not, like that, a chimney for volcanic smoke and steam. Accordingly, on the 14th July, a long cavalcade of men, horses, and mules, with a quantity of philosophical baggage, wound its way up the side of the mountain. Setting out at day break, the expedition reached cloud-land in due time, passing through one botanical zone after another; and, before the sun had well gone down, the Professor and his followers stood safely upon the summit of Guajara. Next morning, they opened their "aerial campaign." Tents were pitched, and fortified against the winds by inclosures of rugged masonry. "Build your walls high and strong towards the S.W., said the first letter they received from the lower world, or your tents will be torn to ribbons." The advice was good, for the party were often visited with tremendous blasts. These wild coursers of the sky came rushing up the mountain like horsemen to the charge; they hurled themselves against the face of the precipice below, and then poured over the brow of the cliffs, raging and roaring as they advanced. 66 clouds. It was not their only missile, for |