cause of human sacrifice in all countries where it was practised, sometimes merely to deceive the people; sometimes those who perpetuated these enormities deceived themselves.

"There is one peculiarity in the tale you have just read, which I ought to mention, and which is, that although the language of the Coranied must have been a dialect resembling the Irish or Scotch Celts, while the language of the Cimbri and the men of Galidin probably resembled that of the modern Welch ; yet no part of the tale appears to belong to the Gaelic-Celtic language. The reason of this can only be guessed at. I suppose that it was from this cause; that the Coranied, being few in number, adopted the language of the people among whom they settled, or from the circumstance that the Druidic mysteries and triads being handed down in the same words, the language and the mysteries naturally went together, or perhaps both of these causes united. It was not uncommon for ancient tribes, even when conquerors, to adopt the language of the conquered.

It

also rather appears from the text that Coranied adopted the mysteries of the Cimbri, with some additions of their own."

"So you then believe," said I, "that everything occurred as described in your story."

"Certainly not; but it must be confessed that it is very singular that when Brading Haven was drained by some Dutch engineers in the reign of James I., a well cased with stone was found about the middle of the harbour. But there is another fact much more extraordinary."

"What is that?" I asked.

"The bones of giants have been dug up at Brading."

"Really!" said I.

"Ah!" said he, "it is altogether a very curious affair." *

The churchyard of Brading is spacious, and of great antiquity. It gives indications of having been the burialplace of some of the "rude forefathers of the isle," prior to the introduction of Christianity. This opinion is supported by the fact that human bones have been found, which do not accord with the stature of the present race of men;

Early in the morning after, while Mr. Winterblossom and myself were sitting at breakfast, a message was sent up to us that Ragged Jack wished to see us about something very particular. We directed him to be shown up. He came in, looking very important; and edging himself up to the elbow of the antiquary's chair, he said, in a low mysterious tone, that he knew of something very much out of the common way, and very extraordinary, that he could tell him.

Mr. Winterblossom inquired what it was.

"It's a man that never was known to tell a lie in his life, who has seen a real ghostthat's what it is."

"Where did the ghost-seer live?”

"At Freshwater."

Upon which the antiquary remarked, “That is a long way off, and probably when we get there we shall not find him at home."

"Oh, sir, you are sure to find him at

and one so embedded in the rock as to be invisible till part of the rock was removed, and when separated from its bed, it instantly crumbled to dust between the fingers.-See Beauties of the Isle of Wight, p. 77. Portsea.

home; he never leaves his cottage, sir ; he is stone blind."

"Stone blind!" said Mr. Winterblossom, drawing himself up. "You may withdraw. You may walk down stairs. A man stone blind see a spirit! we won't trouble you."

"Sir," said Ragged Jack, "he is stone blind now, but he could see as well as you or I when he saw the thing. I assure you, sir, it's very curious.”

“Well, then, if that is the case, you may walk on first, and we will overtake you in a car."

In the morning we started, and when we had got a few miles along the road, Mr. Winterblossom said, "Down here on the right is a narrow inlet of the sea, at present nearly choked with mud, called Newtown Harbour. There, there was once a flourishing town, anciently called Franchville. It was burnt and destroyed by the French in one of their raids in the island. It was afterwards rebuilt, and took the name of Newtown. A solitary cottage is now left there, though its streets still remain in the shape of green

lanes and it is singular that they yet retain the same names as when they were inhabited. The two principal ones are still called Gold street and Silver street. I forget the names of the others, or indeed whether they are at this moment remembered."

I remarked, "Is it not very curious that these names should be still known after the houses have so long disappeared?"

"It is," he said, "very unusual; but perhaps it may be accounted for by the fact of a singular legend relating to it being still rife among the neighbouring inhabitants. If you will attend, I will relate it to you."

THE STORY OF THE PIED PIPER OF NEW

TOWN.

Newtown, anciently called Franchville, was once dreadfully infested with rats, so much so that the borough was scarcely habitable. They ate their way into all the granaries, and rooms, and cupboards. Scarcely any food could be secured from their attacks.