my uncle's friend. At that time there | the stately mansion, the humble cot, inn the just as the scene was impressed on her tablet years ago; and with a freshness and reality scarcely conceivable by those who know not my privation. Well, if travelling where I have never been be fore, I hear the prospect admired, then I set imagination to work, and group for and harmonious as may be required to form an agreeable picture, with the contemplation of which I gratify myself till some new subject of interest is started. I am not afraid of giving to my imagination a romantic licence. It is impossible for it to conceive of lovelier scenes than actually do exist; and wherever on the wide earth they are found, I hold them mine to enjoy. were two great coach proprietors. My uncle had a preference for one above the other; and the day before we were to go, he sent his servant to ascertain at which coaches stopped, to se cure our places by one of them, and engage a post chaise to take us there. All was arranged, as we imagined, ex-myself objects as numerous, and various, actly according to my uncle's wishes. The chaise driver, who came to fetch us, was again questioned, and assured us that the places were taken by the coach my uncle intended, and would take us to the inn at which he wished to put up. We took our seats, not doubting that all was right. In the coach were already seated a widow lady and her little boy of five or six years old. My uncle soon became sensible of the presence of a child-he was exceedingly fond of children: he patted the head of the little fellow, and entered into conversation with him: they soon became quite sociable together. My uncle's infirmity had not been ob-ed to by our fellow passenger. served by our fellow passengers, for the lady, addressing herself to him, made some remark on a beautiful and extensive prospect from the top of the hill which we were then ascending. Yes," replied my uncle, "it is a fine prospect; but in that respect, as well as others more important, it has long been my privilege to walk by faith, and not by sight. I cannot discern the prospect you admire." 66 The lady cast on my uncle a look of inquiring sympathy, and appeared distressed at having given utterance to an expression that might have inflicted pain; but he promptly relieved her embarrassment, by adding, in a cheerful tone, "I am not, however, altogether deprived of the power of enjoying the beauties of creation. Though deprived of my sight, other faculties are mercifully spared to me, which are the inlets to much delight. A remark like that you have just made, though it cannot direct my eyesight to the objects which you contemplate with so much pleasure, sets to work either memory or imagination; and from them I derive pleasures not less vivid than yours. When passing through scenery with which I have long been familiar, memory is put in requisition, and, faithful to her trust, she calls up the wooded hill, the majestic river, the waving corn field, the flowery meadow, the flocks and herds cropping the pasture, the village spire, "With a propriety that none can feel, But, who, with filial confidence inspir'd, Can lift to heaven an unpresumptuous eye, And, smiling say, ' My Father made them all!'" The sentiment was feelingly respondA lively conversation was kept up the whole way; and I do not recollect ever to have taken a more agreeable and profitable stage coach journey. Whenever there was a break in the conversation, or when any fact was stated, or any remark was made, capable of application to the perceptions and feel. ings of a child, my uncle invariably had something kind and suitable to say to the little boy. The child appeared deeply interested in what was said, and fixed his intelligent eyes on my uncle with a sweet expression of veneration and gratitude. When we were approaching the termination of our journey, my uncle taking one of the child's hands within his own, and tenderly stroking his head, charged him to be dutiful and affectionate to his widowed parent, and never to do any thing that could give her pain. Perhaps," said he, "you will not be likely to do it while you are con stantly with her, enjoying her tender caresses, sharing her pious instructions and maternal care, and consciously receiving all your supplies and comforts at her hands; but by-and-by you will be separated from her; you will be thrown into other society, and then will be your time of danger. When at school, or in apprenticeship, you will meet with new companions, who may invite you to join them in some pursuit or pleasure, to which you have not been accustomed. Accustom yourself, on such occasions, 66 always to pause and inquire, 'Would my mother approve of this?' Say to yourself, I remember when I was a little boy, going in a coach from to with an old gentleman, with silver hair and green spectacles, who charged me never to do any thing that might give pain to my tender mother, he told me that the blessing of God was always seen to rest on such children as honour their parents, especially on the dutiful and affectionate child of a widowed mother. Would it grieve my mother for me to do what I now feel inclined to do? If so, I must not do it, lest I sin against God.'" The little fellow was evidently impressed by what was said to him. He kept an eye of fixed attention on my uncle while he spoke, and then cast one of tearful tenderness on his mother, that seemed to say, "I will never give her pain." As a means of fixing on the young mind the impression to which it now appeared so pleasingly susceptible, my uncle, as soon as we reached our destination, having ascertained the name and residence of our fellow travellers, purchased a handsome pocket Bible, and sent it as a present to the little boy, inscribed with his name, and these words, "To be read with earnest prayer to God, that he may thereby be made wise unto salvation." That child is now a man; I am acquainted both with him and his mother and I have the pleasure to know, that his journey from has never been forgotten; nor has his Bible been neglected, nor the admonition of his venerable fellow traveller been disregarded. to But I must add, that on our arrival in the coach drove up to the inn to which my uncle did not wish to go; and it proved that we had been deceived by the people at and had travelled by a different coach from what we intended. Was this by mere accident? or was it not rather among the trifles connected and regulated to produce desirable and important results? I will mention one instance more. We were leaving London for the east, and my uncle took a fancy to go by sea, by way of testing the modern improvement in accommodation and speed in that mode of travelling, of which he had heard so much. At the appointed time we accordingly presented ourselves, with our luggage, on the wharf, and inquired for the vessel, when, to our great mortification, we heard that, on account of an unfavourable passage up, the vessel was delayed a day on its return. It was important that my uncle should reach his destination at the time appointed, having some engagement to attend to on the following day: so we were obliged to make the best of our way inland. One corner of the coach was occupied by a young man, very much muffled up, and apparently in very bad health. The fourth seat was afterwards taken by a modest-looking, well-behaved young woman. As there was nothing particular to draw the attention of my uncle to our fellow passengers, for a considerable time he addressed his conversation only to me. After touching on several topics, he was led to make a remark on the beautiful harmony that universally pervades the works of God. This roused our invalid companion, who had hitherto leaned back in profound silence, and seemed to pay no attention to what was said. The young woman had appeared to listen with some degree of interest. "But is it so?" asked the young man, with a contemptuous sneer, which, together with his subsequent remarks, indicated that he had imbibed the poison of infidelity. He spoke with appalling flippancy of the constitution of nature, the confusion of events, the indifference of human conduct, the improbability and inconsistencies of Scripture. My uncle was just the man to answer the rashness of folly with the meekness of wisdom, and to meet spurious fallacies with sound arguments and speech that could not be condemned. The unhappy young man was familiar with Scripture, and said that he had received a religious education, and had been connected with several bodies of professing Christians; but he had now cast all aside as delusion and priestcraft, and referred to the Bible only to raise some stale quibble against its evidences or its doctrines. The conversation lasted the whole day; for the young man having once begun it, would not suffer it to drop; but, as fast as he was driven from one fallacious argument, with an air of triumph he brought forth another, which he professed to deem unanswerable. His impious words were frequently interrupted by a hoarse and hollow cough, which intimated the near approach of that solemn period which would, in his experience, put beyond a question the principles of the Christian and those of the infidel. To that period my uncle, as we drew near the end of our journey, adverted, appealing to the | conscience of his antagonist, whether he was not the subject of some gloomy apprehensions in prospect of death. He spoke of the supports and consolations of the true Christian, of which we had just witnessed a delightful instance in the case of a beloved friend, who was sinking into the grave, under a painful and lingering disease; yet whose mind was kept in perfect peace, being stayed upon God, and realizing all the sweet consolations which the gospel reveals. For the last few minutes of our journey the infidel was silent and thoughtful. What impressions the conversation had produced on his mind, I know not. However, at parting, he accepted a little book which my uncle put into his hands, promised to give it an attentive perusal, and thanked him for his benevolent solicitude. My uncle also presented to the young female Cecil's "Reasons of Repose,' hoping that it might be useful in counteracting any injurious effects produced on her mind by the conversation of the sceptic. Why was it, that we were compelled, against our intention, to take our journey inland ? Was it a mere matter of chance ? I think not. Was it not, rather, that an opportunity might be afforded to a mature and judicious Chris tian to give a reason of the hope that was in him, either for the conviction of the sceptic, or for the establishment of the young woman, who would otherwise have been exposed, alone and unprotected, to the insidious attacks of infidel sophistry? For my part, I do not feel conscious of enthusiasm, in professing my belief that all these seeming trifles, that interfere with our plans and purposes, are not too minute to enter into the wise arrangements and subserve the gracious purposes of Him who does all things well; and that they are among the many subjects on which what He does we know not now, but we shall know hereafter; when the full developement of the Divine conduct will issue in perfect satisfaction and praise. ASPECT OF INDIA.-No. II. C. A SURVEY of the great natural outlines which bound and distinguish India would be incomplete without a glance at the peaked summits of the majestic Himalayas, literally, "the seats snow and a passing sip of the sacred streams, or a sail down one or the other of the magnificent rivers which water the plains of Irdia. The elevated ridges which separate Tartary from Hindostan, and among which the Chinese contend with Britain for supremacy, are so inaccessible, from their rugged heights, their perpetual snows and piercing colds by night, or scorching noontide rays: they are, moreover, so remote from the more busy haunts of mankind, or the marts of commerce, that they were long looked at as gigantic monuments of nature's power, rather than tracts which were to be traversed and explored. Enterprising Englishmen have broken the silence, and invaded the secrets of those mountain recesses, and ascended to some of their loftiest regions. They have followed as far as the track of vegetable life can be traced, and beyond where any exhibitions of animal existence, residing and subsisting, could be marked. They have contended with the exhausting and oppressive atmosphere of the Alpine regions, the precipitous, shelving, and instable rocks, the often fatal and always perilous mountains of snow, and the hostile or suspicious natives of these inhospitable climes; and they have returned in triumph, bearing to us the results of their inquiry, the measurements of the highest summits, and the altitudes and bearings of the mountain sources of the greatest Asiatic rivers; they have brought us specimens of the natural productions, and a description of those regions where the last link in vegetable life has been passed. The minerals, lead and iron, gold and copper, plumbago, antimony and sulphur, have been found. The elevation of the highest peak has been noted as reaching to nearly twenty-seven thousand feet, five miles in perpendicular height, above the level of the sea! while the Simla, now a delightful British station, is about seven thousand five hundred feet, whence is obtained a highly interesting view of the snowy range. The principal passes among these mountains are Lasseha, Hangarang, Gunass, and Majang La, respectively thirteen thousand six hundred and twenty-eight, fourteen thousand seven hundred and ten, fifteen thousand four hundred and fifty-nine, and seventeen thousand seven hundred feet above the level of the sea; what, then, will be their relative peaks? It is presumed that these are the loftiest mountains on the surface of the earth; piled in appalling confusion, and scattered in detached masses, they present on their exalted summits diluvial deposits and organic remains, which bespeak confirmation to the Mosaic testimony, how "the waters prevailed exceedingly upon the earth; and all the high hills, that were under the whole heaven, were covered" during the flood. On the northern side, villages are found as high as thirteen thousand feet above the level of the sea cultivation has been conducted six hundred feet higher; there are fine birch trees fourteen thousand, and furze bushes for fuel flourish seventeen thousand above the ocean level. The highest balloon that ever soared into the regions of space, had not ascended much higher than these furze bushes, till Guy Lussac, in 1804, rose to the height of twenty-three thousand one hundred feet; the aëronauts, Messrs. Monck, Mason, Rush, and Green, dared to venture no farther than the peaks of some of these mountains in their most adventurous exploratory flight among the regions of clouds. Messrs. Green and Rush returned from their ascent, when they had measured twenty-five thousand one hundred and forty-six feet, not so high as the presumed elevation of DhawalaGiri. On the 21st of June, a captain Webb found extensive fields of barley at an elevation of eleven thousand feet; and at eleven thousand six hundred and thirty feet above Calcutta, he pitched his tent, on a clear spot, surrounded by rich forests of oak, pine, and rhododendra, with a vegetation which was rank and luxurious, and as high as the knee; extensive strawberry beds, beautiful currant bushes in flower, and a profusion of buttercups, dandelions, crocuses, cowslips, and every variety of European spring wild flowers. In the villages of Kunawar, almost sixteen thousand feet high, with a poor and rocky soil, apples, pears, raspberries, apricots, and other fruits abound; and pines, with a circumference of twentyfour feet and a height of one hundred and eighty, flourish in forests even higher. While the summer heat is so strong as to melt the snow, and lay many of the mountains bare, the winter cold is frequently so intense as to split and detach huge masses of rock, which roll from mountain to mountain with loud and terrific reverberations. At Samsiri, on the banks of the Shelti, fifteen thousand six hundred feet above the level of the sea, a halting place provided for travellers, there is a beautiful landscape, with verdant hills and tranquil rivulets, banks of turf and shrubs, cheered with flocks of pigeons and herds of deer. A recent traveller visited a village fifteen thousand feet high, and found the finest crops of barley, reared by the aid of irrigation and solar heat. Men and animals appeared to live and thrive luxuriantly; bullocks and "shawl" goats seemed finer than at any other place of his observation. "On the north-eastern frontier of Kunawar," he says, "close to the stone bridge, I attained a height of more than twenty thousand feet without crossing snow. Notwithstanding this elevation, I felt oppressed by the sun's rays, though the air in the shade was freezing. The view from the spot was grand and terrific, beyond the power of language. I had anticipated a peep into China itself; but I only beheld the lofty frontier, all arid, and bare, and desolate; it was a line of naked peaks, scarce a stripe of snow appearing." But it is on the cessation of the periodical rains that the scene is most striking; the tops only remaining covered, glare their radiant snow at the powerless sun in calm, desolate grandeur. Greater part of the bare rock is then disclosed, and the vast, dim mass, just crowned by gelid points, appears like the curling crest of an enormous wave rising out of a sea of mist; traces of snow extend down the hollows, and accumulations repose far below, while steep cliffs project their bare sides even to eighteen thousand feet. The geology of these giant mountains seems to mock the speculations of all philosophers. Dr. Gerard's tour has been recorded in the Asiatic Journal, and is full of interest. He had entered the bed of the Chandera Baga, "the river of the moon." The traveller was 66 now struck with the change of the climate and the alteration in the appearance of the inhabitants. The configuration of the country assumes a new form, and the eternal snow gradually recedes to the summits of the mountains. Even the skies have a deeper and more resplendent blue. Nothing was green but the crops; the vegetation being scanty and arid, and the sun's rays powerful. In | showy, his conversation frank, and his the former part of their route, they had been daily shrouded in rain and mist; vegetation was luxuriant, and the slopes were vested with pine forests. Here, however, not a tree was visible but the drooping willow, which was planted. The soil was destitute of verdure, and the air felt dry and elastic." On the 2nd of September, he reached the last inhabited spot on the course of the Sooruj-Baga, "the river of the sun,' at an elevation of eleven thousand feet. The valley was prettily enamelled with villages and cultivation. The inhabitants, however, appeared poor, greasy, and ragged. He was hospitably greeted by a thakoor, or chief of the place. "It was now constant sunshine, and the temperature increased with the elevation; they were still in the vicinity of enormous masses of snow. Darcha is the last village in the dell; and the sun's rays, reflected from the barren sides of the rock, raise the temperature to eighty-four degrees in the shade." He traced the Sooruj-Baga to its source in a lake. “In crossing this lofty ridge, the wind blew piercingly on one side, while the sun's rays were scorchingly ardent on the other. The extremely thin, dry, and cold air checks the vital energy with fearful rapidity. On the sixth day's journey from the inhabited limits, they ascended the Laitchee long range, which rose up abruptly, like a vast wall, from the bed of the Chandera-Baga. Along this tract are found marine fossil remains. At length, after a most toilsome journey over rugged and sterile mountains and rocky tracts, for the first time, he pitched his camp upon the plateau of Tartary, at an elevation of nearly sixteen thousand feet. In front was a black ridge, having the uniform height of three thousand feet above his camp, yet there was no snow on its summit. The soil was almost without any vegetation, baked, hard, and thirsty. The skies were of the most resplendent indigo tint, and the air highly transparent.' Alps on alps seemed to rise before him to interminable heights. His associates fired at a wild horse which passed them, but the report was hardly audible, from the rarified atmosphere. A pack of wild dogs, quite red, was seen stealing along in a gulley. His progress was arrested by the wuzeer of Ladak, whose deportment, dress, and manner were appearance altogether prepossessing, and who, on the whole, seemed a jolly bon vivant. He had come to prevent any advance by the exploring party; but he desired to effect his object without rude interference; yet his anxiety to remove Dr. G. fairly out of his sight, and away from the precincts of his capital, was extreme. The route in return was uncomfortable, from their exposure to cold night air in such a savage country; groups of wild horses passed them as they approached a dell opening upon lake Chimorerel, where they encamped, and from which numerous herds of shawl goats, sheep, horses, and yaks (Tartar bulls) were seen. The dell, save towards the lake, was land-locked on every side, and the Chimorerel spread out its blue expanse to the foot of precipitous mountains. Their path skirted the shore of the lake, the whole circumference of which is embayed by mountains; but hillward, on its northeastern shore, the mass of elevated land rose abruptly from the water's edge, and entered the regions of snow where their uniform margin was nineteen thousand feet high. This lake and Mansarowur have no efflux; but the absorbing power of the atmosphere is here so increased by rarefaction, that it serves to carry off the supplies derived from the vicinity. Upon the tableland of Thibet, the air is so dry that frost is not visible upon the soil or grass, though the thermometer_may_stand at the zero of the scale. Repeated tours have recently been made among these grand and wonderful monuments of Almighty power; and it is hoped that a pathway for commerce with Tartary and China may yet be opened, so as to afford facilities for intercourse, and the means of improvement. As descriptive of the present mode of travel and discovery, the following sketch will interest:-"The Tidung, at its junction with the Nungalti, when visited, presented a furious, rapid stream of great declivity; for six or seven miles, the fall being three hundred feet per mile, and in some places double; huge rocks were whirled along with frightful velocity; nothing visible but an entire sheet of foam and spray, thrown up and showered upon the surrounding rocks with loud concussion, and re-echoed from bank to bank with the noise of the loudest thunder; around, |