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who already were beginning to be famed for their opulence. Theodosius had, during his administration, restored the country to unexampled prosperity and respectability, from a state of distress and anarchy; and, when he was called away, he quitted the country with thebenedictions of grateful multitudes, and the expression of earnest wishes for his prosperity.

The boundaries of the city of London, were from the first very extensive. "The wall commenced at the Tower of London, eastwardly, and passed between Poor Jury Lane and the Vineyard, to Aldgate, in which extent, between Wall's Court and Black Horse Alley, was a bastion, and another opposite Weeden's Rents, a distance of eighty-two perches. From Aldgate the wall formed a curve between Shoemaker-row, Bevis Marks, Camomile-street, and Houndsditch, fenced with three bastions-one opposite Harrowalley, a second opposite Bowle-court, and a third between Hand-alley and Castle-yard, and abutted at Bishopsgate, a distance of eightysix perches. Thence, taking a westernly direction through Bishopsgate church-yard, it continued its course behind Wormwood-street and Allhallows church, the back of Bethlehem hospital, till it reached Moorgate: at the end of Coleman-street, continuing in a straight direction, it abutted at Cripplegate, at the distance of a hundred and sixty-two perches. Hence it continued westernly along the back of Hart-street, and the back of Cripplegate church-yard, where, opposite Lamb's Chapel Court, was another bastion. From this place the wall took a southernly direction, between Castle-street, and Monkwell-street, in which small distance were no less than three bastions at the back of Barber Surgeons' Hall. We pursue its course at the back of Noblestreet, till we come to Dolphin-court, opposite Oat-lane, where another bastion was erected: it then again proceeded westernly to Aldersgate, at the distance from Cripplegate of seventy-five perches. Keeping along the back of St. Botolph's church-yard, it continued by the back of Christ's Hospital, and the new Compter, where it again formed a curve to the south to Newgate, in which space were two bastions. The distance from Aldersgate to Newgate sixty-six perches. Keeping at the back of the present prison, the wall passed the ends of the College of Physicians, Warwicksquare, the Oxford Arms inn, Stationers' Hall, and the London Coffee House, Ludgate-hill, where it abutted at Ludgate, the distance being forty-two perches. From Ludgate it continued by Cock-court, to New Bridge-street, where remains of it are at present very perceptible, whence it proceeded along the Fleet Ditch to the east side of Chatham-square, and to the Thames, at the distance of a hundred and thirty perches, making up a total of two miles and 608 feet in circuit. Beside the other bastions and gates with which this wall was fortified, it appears the extremities were particularly guarded; at one end by the Tower of London, and at the other by a large and magnificent tower, near the monastery of the Black Friars"*.

The citizens of London considered their walls of

• Hughson's London, Vol. i. pp. 36, 37.

such importance that, to prevent their receiving any injury, they made a law that no tenement should be built within five yards of them. The approaches to the city appear to have been anciently through four gates, viz., Aldgate on the east, Aldersgate on the north, Ludgate on the west, and Bridgegate, upon London Bridge, on the south; but in process of time several other gates and posterns were erected, for the convenience of bringing goods and provisions into the city, and for the accommodation of the citizens.

In the reign of Henry III. the city-walls and bulwarks had fallen into so great decay, that he compelled the citizens immediately to repair them, which was done at great expense.

In the third year of Edward I. a part of the city-wall was pulled down to make room for the building of the convent of Black Friars, or Friars Preachers, which Robert Kilwarby, archbishop of Canterbury, founded by a licence from the crown; an order, however, was immediately issued by the king to the citizens that they should build a new wall without loss of time, with a tower at the head of it, for his reception, which was to run from Ludgate westward, behind the houses to Fleet Ditch, and thence southward to the river Thames: for the completion of which work a duty was granted to the city, upon sundry articles of merchandize, for the term of three years; and the following letter was also soon after sent to them by the king himself:

"Whereas we have granted you, for the aid of the work of the walls of your city, and the closure of the same, divers customs of vendible things coming to the said city, to be taken for a certain time; we command you, that you cause to be finished the wall of the said city, now begun near the mansion of the Friars Preachers, and a certain good and comely tower at the head of the said wall, within the water of the Thames there, wherein we may be received, and tarry with honour, to our ease and satisfaction, in our comings there, out of the pence taken and to be taken of the said customs, &c. Witness myself, at Westminster, 8th of July, regni 4.”

In the year 1476 the walls of the city were again found to be in a very dilapidated condition. The lord mayor and aldermen, therefore, came to a resolution that they should be immediately repaired with bricks made of earth, dug, tempered, and burnt in Moorfields, and that the expense of these repairs should be defrayed by the inhabitants of the several parishes, each of whom should pay sixpence every Sunday, at church, towards the same. The sums of money thus levied were, however, found to be insufficient to defray the whole expense; and therefore the several companies of the drapers, skinners, and goldsmiths, repaired different parts of the wall at their own private charges. The skinners undertook the repairs of that part of it between Aldgate and Bevis Marks; the drapers repaired all the part from Bishopsgate to Allhallows church, on the west side of the present Broad-street; from thence to Moorgate the repairs were done at the expense of the estate of sir John Crosby, late an alderman of the city, who left one hundred pounds for that particular use, and whose hall still remains in Bishopsgate-street, having been within the last few years restored to its original appearance and

beauty. From Moorgate to Cripplegate different companies contributed funds for the completion of the repairs; whilst from Cripplegate to Aldersgate the expense was borne by the goldsmiths; at which point the work stopped.

During the unhappy divisions of the country, in the seventeenth century, and after the battle of Edgehill, fought on the 23rd Oct. 1642, between Charles I. and the parliamentary forces, the common council passed an act for the better defence of the city of London, by fortifying it with outworks at certain places. It was also enacted

that all the passages and ways leading to the city should be shut up, excepting those entering at Charing Cross, St. Giles' in the Fields, St. John'sstreet, Shoreditch, and Whitechapel; and that the outer ends of these streets should be fortified with musket-proof breastworks; that all the sheds and buildings contiguous to London-wall-without should be taken down; and that the entire city wall with its bulwarks should be repaired and mounted with cannon, and that new works should be added at every point which appeared to be most exposed to danger. Soon after the battle of Naseby (June 14, 1644), in which Charles I. was again defeated, the parliamentary forces, under general Fairfax, arrived before London, to whom the citizens delivered up their fortifications without resistance, by which they became masters of the city, as they were already of the parliament. Soon after their arrival, a loan of 50,000l. was demanded from the city for their service; but, as the citizens were unwilling and unable to pay this demand, the parliament passed a vote for demolishing the fortifications around London, Westminster, and Southwark, which have never since been rebuilt. Considerable portions of the wall, however, still remained till the year 1707, when a part was pulled down near Bishopsgate, to make way for some new buildings. Dr. Woodward, a learned antiquary, at this time examined the fabric and composition of the wall, and from his account of the materials, and the disposition of them, there can be no doubt but that the old wall was Roman, to which considerable additions had afterwards been made, both in the height and thickness, though at what period it was impossible to ascertain.

The most perfect part of the wall now remaining is immediately opposite the library of Sion college, at the western end of the street still called by the old name of "London-wall."

Biography.

THE MOST REV. CHARLES DICKINSON, D.D., LATE LORD BISHOP OF MEATH.

No I.

THE subject of the following memoir is one whose loss has scarcely ceased to be even outwardly vate friends, in that portion of the united church mourned by his clerical brethren, and many prithough a short-lived, ornament.

of these realms of which he was a distinguished,

Of the early history of Charles Dickinson few particulars are ascertained. He was a native of Cork, a city remarkable for having produced a large number of men of great energy of mind and distinguished attainments in every profession. His father was a respectable citizen, held in high esteem among his acquaintances. He was the son of an English gentleman, from Cumberland, who had settled in early life in Cork. Charles was born in August, 1792, the youngest but one of seventeen children. His mother's maiden name was Austen: she was a most amiable lady, of an old and respectable family in that part of Ireland. The moral purity and gentlemanly manners which marked even his boyhood afford proof that he had derived no ordinary adwith the care of so large a family, and far from vantages under the domestic roof. Though charged enabled to give him an excellent education. His being in affluent circumstances, his parents were shewed itself from his earliest years; and when he extraordinary quickness in taking in knowledge was five or six years old, his readiness at ariththose interested in his education. He received metical calculation afforded much amusement to the first rudiments at the best English school at that time in Cork, conducted by Mr. Finney, who appears to have taken great pride in the rapid progress of his most promising pupil, and to have encouraged in his parents the highest hopes of his them that, if sent to the university, there could be attaining future distinction, confidently assuring little doubt of his obtaining a fellowship in due

time.

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Although the decided favourite of the master, he was not the less beloved and admired by his schoolfellows, who never thought of envying his superiority; so unpretendingly did he wear it, and so entirely did he possess, from his very childhood, the power of awakening the feeling of affectionate regard towards him in all with whom he was associated. Even as a schoolboy he was remarkable among his companions for the same native polite

The portion, however, exhibited in the illustration is that near Postern-row, at the eastern extremity of Tower-hill. It is composed partly of stone, and partly of brick; and may be considered as some of the original work, which has at variousness, proceeding from the graciousness of his distimes undergone a succession of repairs.

position, and the frank and playful sweetness of his temper, which was afterwards so characteristic of the man throughout his life."

In 1805 he commenced his more advanced studies, under the rev. Mr. Dwyer, at Kinsale; and, after continuing there two years, was placed at Cork, under the care of the rev. T. D. Hincks; by whose removal, however, from that city to Belfast, young Dickinson was deprived of the advantages which he had for two years enjoyed. His school-companions early discovered and acknowledged his superiority; one instance of which was that they selected him to draw up the inscrip

tion and address to Dr. Hincks, at the time when they resolved to present him with a piece of plate, in token of their esteem.

"In the year 1810 he entered Trinity college as a pensioner, under Dr. Meredith, reckoned by many the best lecturer and tutor of his time in college, who was so impressed with the manly talents of his pupil, that he urged him to direct his thoughts to the bar, as the certain road to speedy and high advancement; his own tastes, however, pointed towards the sacred ministry.

"It was his lot, throughout his collegecourse, to have to compete for honours (not always without success) at every examination, in which ever division he was included, with either the one or the other of the two most distinguished men of his class; remarkable as it was for containing the greatest number of first-rate men ever known in Trinity college, and, from the variety of their acquirements and abilities, familiarly distinguished in its day by the designation, all the talents.' One of these was Hercules Henry Graves, son of Dr. Graves, senior fellow of the college; the other was James Thomas O'Brien, afterwards a fellow, and now bishop of Ossory and Ferns."

The subject of the present sketch enjoyed, among other happy intimacies, that of Charles Wolfe, "whose interesting Remains' have been preserved and given to the world, with a memoir of him, in a highly popular volume, by the present archdeacon of Clogher, the ven. John A. Russell, another of the same group of mutually chosen friends."

The archdeacon, in a letter to a friend, soon after the lamented death of Dickinson, thus speaks of his own first acquaintance with him, and of his introduction of him to Wolfe:

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obtained the gold medal”—an honourable distinction.

Many of his friends, among whom was Dr. Magee (then dean of Cork) urged him to be a candidate for a fellowship. He yielded to their wishes, by presenting himself at the examination, in 1817; earlier than his own judgment would have directed. Though he was not successful (for the first appearance is usually considered rather as experimental than as implying any very probable hope of success), he was thought, by some eminent judges, to have exhibited high talent in all those branches in which he had time to make preparation.

In the year 1819 he was appointed to the assistant chaplaincy of the Magdalen asylum, and in the following year was married to Elizabeth, daughter of Abraham Russell, esq., of Limerick, and sister of his intimate friend beforementioned, the editor of the "Remains of Charles Wolfe."

Towards the end of the next year (1821) he resigned the office he held at the Magdalen asylum, in order to assert his own right of judgment on points which he regarded as properly belonging to his province as chaplain; but, receiving in the following year the offer of a similar post at the Female Orphan House, he continued for the next nine years to enjoy a competent income, by uniting with that chaplaincy a few pupils on advantageous terms.

"In discharging towards his pupils the momentous duty he had undertaken, his extraordinary facility of discerning the avenues of approach to the minds of others gave him a great advantage: it enabled him to gain such access to their understandings and to their hearts, as to make the most "I became acquainted with him in the first of every faculty of the one, and every good year of his college-course. I may say I was quality of the other; and to the earnest solicitude smitten by his look and manner, before I knew with which he devoted himself to the forming of much of his character: I attached myself to him, their minds, and more especially by the cultivaand from the hour of our first acquaintance we tion of sober, unaffected piety, and sound practical enjoyed a happy intimacy, which increased every views of religion, the strongest testimony is furday, until it grew into a settled friendship, which, nished in all the letters he received from them in I hope, even death cannot destroy. I was earlier after-life, abounding in affectionate acknowledgintimate with Charles Wolfe than he was, and ments of deep and lasting obligation to him, for soon told him of my discovery, and brought them their first serious impressions of religion as a prinboth together, in union with his then chief friend,ciple influencing and regulating the life." Hercules Graves. They soon, as you know, 'like kindred drops, were mingled into one.' All who knew him can testify in what estimation and honour he was held by every acquaintance, and how his winning manners, and unaffected benevolence, and moral purity, attracted every one whose good opinion was of any value, and carried the respect and regard of even the most common-place acquaintances."

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His mathematical ability discovered itself at an early period in his college career, and drew towards him the interest of Dr. Magee (the late archbishop of Dublin) at that time professor of mathematics; by whose persuasion he quitted the class to which he belonged, to attend his lectures in a higher one.

"In 1813 he obtained a scholarship, and about the same period began to take a distinguished part as a member of the College Historical Society, in which a poem of his was honoured with a medal. He took his degree of bachelor of arts in the spring commencements of 1815; on which occasion he

Among the friends with whom Mr. Dickinson had long enjoyed constant intercourse, was Alexander Knox, whose mind and character he thoroughly appreciated; and the death of this gifted man was felt by him indeed to be a heavy loss; but, not long after that event, he acquired the friendship of the present archbishop of Dublin. The notice of that prelate was first attracted to him by the peculiarly able manner in which he was found discharging his duties at the Orphan House. The singular ability with which he adapted his discourse to the capacities of the children, in exciting and keeping up their attention, so highly delighted the archbishop, that he paid frequent visits to that establishment, in order to listen to the instructions that were there given. At public boards too, and other meetings for business, the same tact and judgment were observed by his grace to be united to a calmness and conciliation which raised him to a high rank in the estimation of differing parties; his retiring and modest spirit would, however, have hindered

him from deriving any advantage from the archbishop's regard, had not the latter determined to bring him forward. In a short time he was appointed one of the archbishop's chaplains; and, on the retirement of Dr. Hinds, in 1833, the whole duty of the domestic chaplaincy and secretaryship devolved upon Mr. Dickinson, obliging him to disengage himself entirely from the charge of pupils.

The living of St. Ann's, Dublin, becoming vacant in July of the same year, he was appointed to the charge of that parish by the archbishop. His church soon became much frequented by members of the learned profession, and by others possessing intellect, judgment, and cultivated taste, who were drawn by the clear, convincing, and impressive style of his pulpit instructions. In the management of parochial business also, he succeeded in keeping up a spirit of good feeling among his parishioners of all parties, as was especially seen when he took the chair at the Easter vestries, which, in other parishes, were often oc. casions of disturbance and political rivalry.

"One of the earliest objects which engaged him in co-operation with the archbishop was the national system of education, which, from the first, he hailed as the best practicable plan for extending to Ireland the blessings of civilization, and raising her to her legitimate level, as an integral portion of the British empire. The controversy on the subject has occupied, and as yet continues to occupy, so much attention through other publications, that it is needless, as well as beside the purpose of a slight biographical sketch, to cauvass the opposite arguments that have been urged on the subject."

In his office as examining-chaplain "he had the happiness of observing the gradual improvement in ministerial preparation, towards which his own counsels to the young men greatly contributed; and among many minor steps towards the better working of the church-system, especially amidst a population composed of various religious communions, he zealously promoted the establishment of the Parochial Visitors' Society' -an institution designed to remedy the growing evils (sensibly felt in all large and populous towns) arising from the inadequacy of the clerical department of the established church to the quantity of work it was expected to perform, though in many instances not essentially of a clerical nature."

"The Parochial Visitors' Society, founded in 1840, under the presidency of the archbishop, was framed with due care to guard against such an objection, and its object and character were cautiously embodied with its title for enabling the clergy of the respective parishes to have the assistance of fit persons to act under their direction in matters which the spirit and constitution of the established church allow its clergy to depute to such agents.' And as the object of the society was not to establish a distinct system of operations, but to give increased effect to that already supplied by the church, so the fundamental principle

We echo the sentiment in the text that it is needless here to discuss the subject; but, in order to prevent any suspicion of our having changed our opinions, we feel it desirable to say that, in common with the vast majority of the bishops and clergy of the united church, we continue utterly to disapprove of the system of the Irish national board.-ED.

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upon which it was based was that of close conformity to the existing frame-work of the church, having episcopal authority as its centre of action, and its operations defined and controlled by the laws which govern the clergy."

"There was an additional advantage contemplated by the Parochial Visitors' Society, which, though not its primary object, was equally important to the church, namely, that, as the visitors themselves would be, for the most part, divinity students intended for the ministry, this society afforded them the best practical training for their future office, by placing them, like apprentices, under the instruction and guidance of mastervisitors-the clergymen of the respective parishes."

When, in October (1840, the see of Meath became vacant, by the death of bishop Alexander, rumour pointed to Dr. Dickinson as the probable successor in the charge of that diocese, it being well known that a high opinion had long been entertained towards him by the members of the government, on account of his learning, piety, zeal, and enlargement of mind. But how unambitious he himself was in the prospect of a possible elevation may be seen from the following passage in a letter to a sister at Kinsale, dated November 9th: "It is gossipped amongst the Castle people that am to be the person. I do not myself think it, and I am perfectly calm about it. It is an office I should fear to wish for; and I am sure the matter will be controlled by the Highest Wisdom. Many are putting forth political interest to secure the appointment, and I am putting forth nothing at all. My course has been adopted without any reference to my own advancement; and it shall not be changed either by my being overlooked or promoted.

I

"I know it is difficult for you to lay aside anxiety, but you should endeavour to do so. If the advancement appears desirable on the one side, remember, on the other, that it would produce cares and dangers-cares sometimes painfully distressing, and dangers, perhaps, to my own mind, or to the minds of the children. Put these considerations in opposition to the apparent advantages, and leave the matter to him who accepted affliction for himself, and not worldly rank or affluence. The moment I know the matter to be decided, one way or the other, I shall write to you."

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His consecration took place on the 27th December, in the cathedral of Christchurch, Dublin; the bishop's solemn feeling on the occasion being deepened by the recent intelligence of the death of a beloved sister. "Never, perhaps," says his biographer, Dr. Westt, was there a man less affected with the flush which so commonly attends upon sudden promotion. Though receiving from every quarter congratulations on his advancement, his equable mind and strong Christian sentiment too justly appreciated the value of temporal distinctions to allow room in him for any elation of spirit. On one occasion, while these greetings were still new, in his usual strain of calm cheer

It was most erroneously supposed by many, that the archbishop had (as a matter of course) used his influence with the government to obtain the bishopric for his chaplain. This supposition, however, was unfounded.

+ See" Remains of the most rev. C. Dickinson, D.D.; being a selection from his sermons and tracts; with a biographical sketch," by the rev. John West, D.D. London: Fellowes Grant and Bolton, Dublin. 1845.

fulness, he expressed his indifference to all worldly | vided with barometers, with a compass, with some honours or advantages, and how readily he would at once relinquish all, and even life itself, were it the divine will."

NARRATIVE OF AN EXPEDITION TO THE

thermometers, with a good telescope and hygrometer. I had had a tent constructed, under covert of which we might brave the storm. We had axes, saws, ropes, and poles with iron spikes, indispensable in an expedition of this kind: mine was fifteen feet in length: I determined that it should remain behind us on the top of the volcano, as the staff of a flag of triumph; but I said

SUMMIT OF POPOCATEPETH, A VOLCANO nothing of this to my travelling companions. OF PERU, IN 1834*.

THE valley of Mexico, one of the most picturesque sites in the world, is bounded on the east-southeast by a chain of mountains, from which rise two volcanoes, known under the Indian names of Iztaccihuatl and Popocatepeth. The tops of them, eternally covered with snow, are from sixteen to eighteen thousand feet above the level of the sea. The first, the nearest to Mexico, presents a crest irregularly indented, which extends from the north-west to the south-east. The second is a complete cone: it is somewhat like Etna; but its base rests not, like that of the latter, on a level plain. The Popocatepeth is situated on the edge of the great plateau of the Cordilleras. On one side, towards the north-west, the forests of fir-trees which wholly enwrap it terminate at the foot of the valley, and the last trees mingle with the fields of corn, maize, and other European plants growing at that height. But towards the south-east the forests continue longer they change in kind at every step, and soon wholly disappear, to give place to the sugarcane, the cactus, and all the rich and peculiar vegetation of the tropics. A traveller, setting out from the volcanic sands, a little above the limits of vegetation, and descending in a direct line into the valley of Cuantla-Anulpas, would, in a few hours, pass through every climate, and might gather every plant growing between the equator and the poles.

From this situation, it necessarily results that the snows which are found on the south-east must, in the given circumstances, be influenced by the exhalations of hot air which are continually arising from the valley of Cuantla. And so it is in effect. These snows melt partially in the dry

season; and, whilst the north of the volcanic cone is constantly covered with snow and ice, even to the very last fir, the lava and porphyry of the south are almost laid bare, even to the very top

of the volcano.

We might fail in our enterprise, and I did not
like to sell the bear-skin before I had killed the
bear.'

o'clock in the evening.
"We set out, and arrived at Ozumbas at three
We sent to summon
the same persons who had served us as guides the
last year. They were Indians of the village of
Atlanta, which is situated at the very foot of Po-
and the next morning, at seven o'clock, we com-
pocatepeth. We laid in provisions for four days;
menced climbing the mountain with our mules
and our horses. At one o'clock we had reached
like a Swiss chalet, serving for shelter to a nu-
the Vaqueria, or Rancho of Gacapepelo, quite
merous herd of cows, and the last inhabited spot
limits of vegetation, which we reached by almost
on the mountain. Ainree we had arrived at the
beaten tracts, having had occasion to use our axes
in one place only. To any one acquainted with
the Alps, I need not say one word of these stu
pendous forests of oaks, of fir, and of larch, which
must be traversed: they are alike in both hemi-
to be found numerous flocks of guacamaias, large
spheres, save that at the foot of this mountain are
green parrots with red heads, which are to be met
with neither at Chamouni, nor at Sallenches.
There are also in the forests a small species of lion,
jaguars, wolves, stags, roes, and a great quantity
of wild cats; but we did not see a single one of all

these animals.

"In proportion as we ascended into the wood, the firs became less frequent, and of smaller size. and all their branches bend down to earth, as if Near the sands they are all more or less stunted; they sought, lower down, air less rarefied. After decayed, are only to be found some bushes of a these last firs, of which the greater part are half kind of gooseberry-tree, with a black fruit; then, at intervals, tufts of yellowish moss growing in semi-circles, amidst the fragments of pumicestone, lava, and basalt. At length all vegetation wholly ceases. Then we began to feel that we were no longer in a region in which it was possible to live. Our respiration was impeded: a kind of truth, I can scarcely define the impression we exdepression, not without charms, seized upon us; in

It is, then, on this side that a passage must be sought, in any attempt to reach the summit of this mountain, the most elevated of the northern continent of America; and this was the course pursued by baron Gros, secretary to the French lega-perienced as we entered these deserts. tion at Mexico, who, in the year 1834, had the courage to undertake this perilous enterprise, accompanied in his bold project by M. de Gerolt, consul-general of Prussia, and Mr. Egerton, an English painter. We will give the account in the

baron's own words:

"I had made a similar attempt last year, but with very different results. My first attempt had been unsuccessful, but this year many circumstances concurred to favour us. We were proThis interesting account is from "Sharpe's London Maga

zine."

"From the moment the wood is left behind, nothing is to be seen up to the third part of the coloured sand, so fine in some places that the volcanic cone, but an immense extent of violetwind ruffles the surface of it with the perfect regularity of a ripple on the waters. Blocks of red porphyry are scattered up and down, and break undulations formed by the sand is covered over the monotony of the spectacle. The top of the by an immense quantity of little yellowish pumice stones, which the winds appear to have gathered there in heaps; and along these sands run in furrows, till they are lost in the forest, some scoriæ

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