Page images
PDF
EPUB

this as in other instances, is the organ of tactivity. The eyes of the animal were small, on a line with the cranial projection, and, as it appeared to us, very inefficient by day-light. The iris, as we

DWELLINGS OF WHITE ANTS.

saw it, seemed very narrow, and of a dark hazelbrown, and the pupil minute; but, when the shadows of evening descend over the wooded swamps of Brazil or Guiana, may not that pupil expand into a dark orb, bounded only by the little eyelids? Looking at the eyes with consideration, we registered them in our mind as organs formed for twilight or nocturnal vision. Little use, indeed, did the animal make of them when perambulating its apartments, as we shall soon demonstrate.

that the recognition chiefly depended upon the sense of smell. The animal allowed him to pat it, and seemed pleased with his notice; but it uttered no noise or cry so long as we stayed to observe it. This, however, proves nothing: it is said to utter, when pleased, a peculiar whine, and we have the highest authority for this fact.

From the sense of smell to that of taste the transition is direct. Let it here be premised that the ant-eater has no teeth; it is therefore strictly edentate, as naturalists term it. The jaw-bones are long, slender, and feeble. The mouth is a little aperture at the end of the snout, and merely fitted for the protrusion of a long, rapier-like, glutinous tongue from its sheath; as the natural food of this animal consists principally of termite ants and their pupa-the latter more especiallythis long viscous tongue is a most efficient instrument for such a purpose. For the crushing of such food teeth are not needed, as it is swallowed without mastication, and doubtless with a copious flow of saliva. But we have yet to describe the animal's tongue as it presented itself to our personal observation. We were contemplating the anteater while it sat up on its haunches, like a great dog, with its long snout elevated; suddenly from its mouth a thin, dark, purplish glossy stream, like that of treacle, seemed to flow, certainly to the extent

[graphic]

THE WHITE FEMALE ANT.

Now for the organs of hearing. We have described their external figure and position, close above the little eyes; but what shall we say of of more than two feet. In this stream a slight the animal's hearing power? If sensibility to inVocations loudly uttered could have awakened the sleeper through this medium, he must have responded to the call. "Seven sleepers" are recorded in the works of the olden time; surely this somnolent Brazilian, taking its siesta, might be put down for the eighth: it slept as an athlete. When aroused, however, it seemed even then almost dead to sounds and exclamations; at least it noticed them not, and they passed by it as the dle wind.

If sight was defective and hearing obtuse, the contrary appeared to be the case with the sense of smell-a fact which indeed might be inferred even from a consideration of the extension of the olfactory organs, carried along the upper portion of the tubular head from the space between the ears to the two little narrow terminal slits which represent the nostrils. Ever and anon the animal elevated its snout and sniffed the air, and when its keeper, a most careful and obliging man, brought in a pan of milk, it followed him about with a stumping, bear-like gait, evidently directed rather by the sense of smell than of vision to the vessel which he carried in his hand. Moreover, it evidently knew its attendant, and indicated, by projecting its snout to him when he at first entered the apartment without anything in his hands,

Tactivity means feeling, in contradistinction to simple sensitiveness. For example, our hands are endowed with tactivity; our whole cutaneous surface with sensitiveness.

vibration was perceptible, and then, as if its current suddenly retrograded, it glided upwards and rolled back through the mouth into its hidden fount. This stream was the tongue. Many times, both while the animal rested and while it traversed its apartment, was this exhibition repeated, and always with sufficient deliberation for the eye to follow out the whole movement. We are assured,

[graphic]

GALLERIES OF AN ANT'S NEST.

however, that when employed in active service, a breach in the wall of an ants' mound having been effected, the movements of this organ are incalenlably rapid, which we can readily believe.

As we have said, our Brazilian stranger followed the keeper, bearing in his hand a vessel of milk.*

In noticing the diet of the animal in question, we may observe that in its native wilds it is a destroyer of termites; but our captive cannot here be entertained with such fare. As a substitute, it is furnished with a supply of raw eggs, the shells of which are of course removed. Of these it consumes

In a short time, having at our especial desire tested the olfactory sense of the animal, he indulged it with a good draught of the coveted beverage. We expected to see it lap the fluid up by some action of the tongue; perchance, doglike; perchance like that displayed when the organ is inserted into the sinuosities of the termites' mounds, and is drawn back laden with the luscious food. Not so, however: it simply applied its tiny mouth to the milk, and sucked it up gradually and quietly, with the least possible perceptible sound. Not more delicately does the horse sip its water from the trough, than did the ant-eater its milk from the pan. A thought crossed our mind at the time: how would the ant-eater manage with boiled marrow-bones of beef? would not the remarkable tongue be then displayed in full action? For once, at least, the experiment might be worth a trial, if only for the sake of witnessing the action of this organ.

It may seem at first surprising that an animal so bulky and massive as the ant-eater, can not only subsist, but keep up its muscular strength and condition, on such diet as that afforded by white ants or termites. The same observation applies with even more force to the Greenland whale; but, in each instance, we draw our deduction from erroneous premises: we do not take into account the extremely nutritious quality of the food, and the fact of its making up weight by the aggregation of a multitude of minute units, so as to counterbalance that of mass in solidity. Myriads upon myriads of tiny beings are daily devoured both by the whale and the ant-eater. Termite mounds characterize the haunts of the ant-eater, and we have described its structural fitness for demolishing these insect fastnesses. It makes short work in opening a breach, and then its tongue is brought into full play. Soon, however, the startled termites, in order to escape the fate of the myriads which first fell a sacrifice, take refuge in the deeper and smaller galleries of the ruined edifice. But vain are their efforts; their enemy tears off huge fragments of the galleried walls with his strenuous claws, holds them firm with his left paws, and leisurely breaks them up with the right, the tongue in the mean time performing its office with celerity. When satiated, the ant-eater ceases the work of destruction. It would appear that a considerable quantity of the earthy materials of the ants' dome is swallowed along with the insects themselves, and Dr. Schomburgk supposes, perhaps correctly, that this material aids digestion.

Furnished with its tail, which can be used as

about twenty-four daily; in addition to a pint of new milk, it also drinks a little water. While we were listening to this statement our eyes rested upon a dead rabbit, cut open and somewhat erushed, which lay on the floor of the apartment. We asked whether it was not killed and placed there by way of experiment. We found that it was so; the ant-cater had more than once in our presence applied its tongue to this newly-killed animal, as if to taste the blood; but beyond this, during the previous night, it had taken in-we can hardly say devoured the greatest portion of the softer viscera. It refused any preparation of grain. Nevertheless, we learn from Dr. Schomburgk, that a farinaceous preparation, namely, of cassada, was much relished by individuals in confinement, in their native regions. Minced fresh beef and even fish were also acceptable, provided these viands were chopped up so finely as to be under the prehensile command of the little moveable upper lip. That our captive should be enabled to

draw in and swallow the tender viscera of a young rabbit need not therefore surprise us.

a penthouse, the ant-eater makes no nest or burrow but curls itself up, and is thus sufficiently protected against the inclemency of the weather.

Though generally deliberate in its movements, the ant-eater can push its pace into a peculiar trot, or long gallop, and is then not easily overtaken; indeed, it will keep a horse on the canter for upwards of half an hour, and by no means tires readily itself.

The female possesses two pectoral teats, and produces only one young at a time, which soon clings firmly to her back, and, thus attached, is carried about with her during her rambles. It remains under her care for the space of a year, and then shifts for itself. When pursued with her young one on her back, the mother seeks safety in flight, and holds on her course till fairly overtaken; she has indeed been known to keep a horse on the full canter for half an hour. When hard pressed, she assumes a posture of defence, raises herself upon her haunches, and, resting on one fore paw, strikes with the claws of the other at her enemy, changing from the right to the left limb, and vice versâ, as the latter alters his position of attack. The force of these blows is tremendous. Should the danger increase, she throws herself upon her back, and strikes with both claws at her enemy. To the last moment the young one clings to the mother. It is in this manner that she receives her fierce opponent, the jaguar. Those who had witnessed the fight, described it to Dr. Schomburgk as being very characteristic. There is no yielding on the part of the ant-eater, and it frequently happens that both combatants remain dead upon the spot, or that one does not survive the other many hours. "The force," says Dr. Schomburgk, "of the ant-eater is astonishing, and I have no doubt that it is well able to rip up the belly of its assailant." He adds: "If the anteater should succeed in throwing its arms round its enemy, and fixing its claws in the flesh, nothing can disengage it from its embrace; the muscles grow stiff, and, as I have been told, without being able to vouch for its veracity, in this situation both animals die."

When young individuals are captured, they at first try to hide themselves, but, if approached, put themselves into a resolute posture of defence, growling at the same time like an irritated puppy. That the ant-eater is capable of climbing has been abundantly proved by Dr. Schomburgk, who wit nessed this operation most adroitly performed both by young ones and adults, the fore limbs being used alternately, and one secured by means of the claws before the other is advanced. From witnessing the agility thus displayed, Dr. Schomburgk expresses his conviction that, should circumstances require it, these animals would climb trees with the greatest readiness. Of the docility both of adults and young, in a short time after their capture, the following extracts from Dr. Schomburgk's paper, in the Proceedings of the Zoological Society," relative to another specimen of the ant-eater which came under his notice, may not be uninteresting. It appeared to be of a very cold nature; not only the extremities but the whole body felt cold to the touch, although we kept it wrapped up in a blanket. It preferred, however, to be nestled and to be taken up, and on putting it down it emitted

[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]

a whining but not unpleasant sound; when it did Being in the neighbourhood of this remarkable not succeed in attracting attention, and was not building not a very long time ago, I set out to taken up again, the whining sound was raised to a walk towards it with my light partridge cane in harsh and grating noise. In following a person, my hand, leaving one Thomas Christmas, a very it directed its course more by the smell than by eivil man and careful driver, to overtake me with sight, and carried its snout close to the ground. the fly containing a gentleman and lady of about If it found itself at fault, it wheeled round at right my own years, and a young friend of cheerful and angles upon the hind legs, and snuffed the air in agreeable disposition. I found quite enough in all directions until it found the right scent again. the walk agreeably to occupy my attention. Now Of the dimness of its sight we had various proofs; I was gazing up at the flights of starlings in the it hurt itself frequently against objects that stood air; now watching the blue or rather violet butterin its way, not observing them till it came in con- fly on the grassy ground; now inspecting the odd tact with them. Its power of smelling was ex-forms eaten by insects on the gates and stiles; and quisite, and it could discover its nurse, or any person to whom it had taken a liking, at a considerable distance. Upon these occasions it would commence the whining sound so peculiar to this animal. It was an expert climber. It happened that I was one of its favourites, and whilst writing on my table it used to come softly behind me, and as soon as it was sure it had found me out, it climbed up my legs with great dexterity. Out of amusement we frequently held up its blanket, and it climbed up its whole length.

now regarding the deaf stone-breaker in the road, and the harvest-people in the fields. Presently I came in sight of Belvoir Castle, the most conspieuous object in the distant prospect.

Few scenes are more pleasantly impressive than this majestic castellated pile, standing on its commanding eminence, embosomed in a forest of foliage, stretching out far and wide, diversified with spacious walks and opening glades. The building is quadrangular, and the larger towers are surmounted by smaller ones rising above them. The numerous windows of the edifice of necessity impart to it a modern appearance, for the narrow slits of old fortresses were ill adapted for light and cheerfulness.

"When the Indian woman was not present, or otherwise occupied, and did not pet the young anteater, she used to throw some of the clothes she had worn or her own blanket before it, in which it wrapped itself and was pacified. This effect could not be produced by any other person's clothes. It showed its attachment by licking, and was very gentle and even sportive: we all prized it highly. It slept a great deal. We had it for nearly two months, and as it began to feed itself, we had great hopes of rearing it; unfortunately we were unable to procure milk, and whether in consequence of the change of food, or some other cause, it gradually declined. I found it sometimes as cold as ice, and stiff; and, though I recovered it repeat-dure, and many a warlike sally was made from its edly, it died one day during my absence.”

Having so far detailed the results of our personal observations relative to this extraordinary specimen, (introduced into the Gardens of the Zoological Society at the cost of 2007., through the exertions of the indefatigable secretary of the Institution,) it is our duty to express our thanks to the chief superintendent of the vivarium, for his kindness in affording the writer every facility for a leisurely survey of this singular creature, and for his compliance with our wishes in more than one instance.

OLD HUMPHREY'S VISIT TO BELVOIR

CASTLE.

The history of this castle may be given in a few words. The posterity of its founder held it to the reign of Henry III, when by marriage it came into the keeping of Robert de Roos, and afterwards into that of sir Robert Manners, of Etall, in the county of Northumberland; since which time it has not passed from the latter family, its present owner being John Henry Manners, duke of Rutland, K. G. During the cruel wars of York and Lancaster, many a rude attack did the castle en

massy walls; but, at last, it was ravaged and laid
partly in ruins. In the reign of Henry VIII,
Thomas Manners, lord Roos, the first earl of
Rutland, restored it, and the second earl also
greatly extended it; but, during the unhappy war
between king Charles and the Parliament, it again
became a seat of strife and contention.
party when successful garrisoned it, and in these
rude changes it suffered much. The rough usages
of iron-handed war left traces behind it-traces of
desolation.

owner.

Each

The castle was again repaired after the Restoration in 1668, but it did not attain its present magnificence till it came into possession of its present The outwork, called Staunton Tower, the chief stronghold of the castle, is exceedingly imCASTLE-VISITING and castle-building are very posing. The command of it is held by the family agreeable recreations: the one is performed on the of Staunton, which, by tenure of castle-guard, earth, the other in the air. Windsor, Warwick, were anciently required to appear with soldiers for Kenilworth, Edinburgh, Stirling, and Dumbarton the defence of this strong post in case of danger. are but a few of the frowning old fortresses which It has been the custom when any of the royal have contributed to my gratification. I now, family have honoured Belvoir Castle with their however, have to speak of Belvoir Castle, in Lei-presence, for the chief of the Staunton family percestershire. "Dash into your subject at once," says an author, "without wasting your time in a wordy preamble, if your object be to interest your reader, and not to show off your own cleverness." Thus seasonably admonished, I will at once dash into my subject. Having no royal pageant to parade, a flourish of trumpets will not be necessary.

sonally to appear, and present the key of the stronghold to such distinguished personage.

In the year 1816, Oct. 26th, a fearful fire gained the ascendancy over this princely dwelling and nearly destroyed it. The grand staircase, picturegallery, and part of the pictures were burnt. "The massy golden salver, composed of tributary tokens

of royal and public respect for national services performed by the Rutland family," was fortunately preserved. Notwithstanding this calamitous disaster, the castle now even exceeds its former beauty and magnificence. The following is a part of the grateful memorial of the duke with regard to this distressing calamity, in which it is said property to the extent of a hundred and twenty thousand pounds was destroyed. "The principal part of the plate and more than one half of the collection of pictures were saved, and a mercy of still greater value and importance was bestowed upon the duchess and me (then absent at Cheveley Park), in the preservation of our five dear children, and of the whole family in the castle. So true is it that even in his just chastisements an Almighty God is merciful, and that his severest dispensations possess sources of comfort to the mind of a Christian. It is with a due sense of the Divine goodness, and with a proper gratitude for the mercy of God, that I recommence on this day the rebuilding of the north-west and north-east fronts of Belvoir Castle, having committed the superintendance of the building to the Rev. sir John Thoroton, knight, assisted by Mr. Thomas Turner as clerk of the works; fully confiding in their ability and anxiety to temper splendour with prudence, and comfort with economy, but more particularly conscious, that

[ocr errors]

Except the Lord build the house,

Their labour is but lost that build it.""

Having lingered a little in the entrance-hall and narrow passage, decorated with stags' horns, swords, pistols, and musketry in ornamental forms, and elegant suits of armour both gilt and black, we ascended a flight of steps, at the bottom of which stood a beautiful piece of mounted ordnance, taken from the Sikhs, and presented to the duke of Rutland by sir Henry Hardinge; as a model of beauty in gunnery, a perfect toy of war, it is, no doubt, regarded by military visitors with admiration and pleasure. Pictures, and stained-glass windows, on which are depicted in full-length figures the warriors of other times in hauberts and with double-handed swords, now attracted our attention; while, looking around us every now and then, we saw long files of visitors at a distance, passing on accompanied by their guides.

How varied are our tastes and inclinations in roaming through the repositories of art and excel

lence!

As different objects strike our view, So different ends we all pursue. By passion spurr'd, by prudence rein'd, With taste and knowledge felt or feign'd, We gaze with ardent and admiring eyes On pictures, marbles, as they round us rise, Or glowing glass bestain'd with glitt'ring dyes. Nothing could exceed the courtesy or the patience of the agreeable housekeeper, who, with becoming gray hairs and comparatively youthful features, attended us through the castle, making plain what required explanation, and allowing us to linger when we felt disposed, without the slightest manifestation of impatience. I ventured to suggest the hope that she would never willingly discard the gray hairs which so well became her, and received her assurance that she never would.

The Regent's Gallery, so called out of compli ment to George IV, is filled with choice productions of art of various kinds. I pondered a while on the richly-coloured shell of some large foreign fruit, exceedingly unique and curions. The chairs were old oak with cushions of needle-work. There were cheffoniers, finely inlaid with gold, surmounted with marble slabs; vases of varied colours; gilt tables of the costliest workmanship, and ornaments without number; a crimson couch, richly worked in squares; Gobelin tapestry of the most exquisite workmanship, the subjects taken from Don Quixote and other sources. The walls were pale-green, and the cornice gold, scarlet, and pale-blue; the carpet rich velvet pile, trumpet pattern, with gold leaves. I suppose that by familiarity the most splendid apartment would soon lose the greater part of its attractions. This should be remembered by us in the midst of magnificent scenes, that our comforts may thereby be enhanced in value, and our envious desires corrected.

In the chapel, into which we looked down from the gallery above, is a painting of the Holy Family, by Murillo, much prized. The peep into the chapel gives a devotional turn to the thoughts of the visitor, not unfavourable to his deep enjoyment in roaming through the different apartments of the castle. In the library lay the large book in which visitors write their names. On turning over its leaves, I could find no inscriptions therein to justify me in the liberty of inserting a stanza; but feeling grateful to the noble duke for the pleasure I was partaking, and emboldened by the remem brance of his thankful acknowledgments to God for the preservation of his household during the fire, which I had so recently read, I took up, certainly the worst of the castle pens, and inscribed, in decidedly the worst hand-writing in the whole book, the following lines :

May Rutland ever look with steady eye To Him who reigns o'er earth, and sea, and sky; That he may find Him his abiding trust When Staunton Tower has crumbled into dust. The late duchess's boudoir has not been used since her death. The ball-room is a spacious apart ment; and the queen's drawing-room, with rosewood furniture and light drab silk damask chaircovers, has in it a favourite picture of the dying stag. From the windows of this chamber the cathedral of Lincoln is plainly seen, at a distance, perhaps, of about thirty miles. An occasional glance at the out-door sylvan scenery relieves the eye of the visitor, and he returns with a fresher curiosity to the in-door allurements that await him.

The Chinese apartment, the queen's bed-room, the king's room, and the dining-room, have all their several attractions; but the grand or Elizabethan saloon lays claim to a much more than ordinary degree of attention. The beautifully painted ceil ing; the costly furniture; the chairs and sofas, of crimson and drab silk damask; the cheffoniers, black and gold, richly ornamented with bunches of grapes formed of agates and cornelians, with gold leaves and fruit of red and white cornelian and other stones; the gilt tables covered with crimson velvet; the carpet of velvet pile with peacocks spreading their tails at each corner; the gold key of the strong-hold, presented by the chief of the Staunton family to a royal visitor; the beautiful

specimen of artistic skill by the late duchess; the full-length portraits of the duke of Rutland and his lamented duchess, with the marble statue of the latter: these, together with the miniatures, paintings, and curiosities of all kinds that enrich the apartments, render it one of the most decidedly beautiful rooms that is to be seen in England. I gazed on the scene without envy, and had a heart full of good wishes for the noble owner of Belvoir Castle.

I could have spent a day very pleasantly in the picture-gallery, for many of the paintings are of the highest order. The bluff, burly face and figure of Henry VIII, by Holbein, first caught my attention. "What a pity it is," thought I, "that so good a painting should represent so bad a man. He had, however, some good points; would that they had more conspicuously prevailed in his character." Hercules and Antæus by Rubens, the seven pictures of the Seven Sacraments by N. Poussin, the Martyrdom of St. Andrew by Spagnoletto, and Dutch Proverbs by Teniers, are among the more celebrated pictures of the gallery. Paintings by Parmigiano, Carlo Dolci, Albert Durer, Vandyke, Wouvermans, Claude Lorraine, Murillo, Gainsborough, and a score other great names, vie with each other. Seldom do I visit a picture-gallery without a feeling in which no doubt many others participate-a regret that I cannot thank those whose artistic fingers have so liberally contributed to my gratification.

We failed not to pay a visit to the beautiful and deeply impressive mausoleum of the late duchess. This illustrious lady was the second daughter of Frederick earl of Carlisle, and must, judging by her likeness and the works of her hands, have been eminently beautiful and talented. Our visit amply rewarded us for our walk of a quarter of a mile from the castle. The tall, handsome servingman in livery, who first admitted us, attended us along the walks, beneath the overhanging foliage of the trees. The mausoleum is situated in the deep solitude of the surrounding woods. The lengthy avenue along which the spectator passes is in shadow, while the strong light from the roof window at the farther end of the aisle falls full on the exquisite marble figure of the duchess rising to the clouds above, where are seen her children, who died young, ready to receive and bid her welcome to the skies, one of them holding a crown of glory wherewith to encircle her brow. Faith, Hope, Charity, and other figures are seen below the rising form of the duchess. Our minds were solemnized, but hope and faith harmonize well with solemnity. How solemn and yet how hopeful and animating are the words of the Redeemer: "I am the resurrection and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live; and whosoever liveth, and believeth in me, shall never die." As we descended the woody height on which the castle stands, varied pictures were presenting themselves to my imagination. The old bulwark as it was first built by the Norman warrior; the rude encounters which at different times it had to endure ; the glittering pennants of the partisans of York and Lancaster fluttering in the breeze on the tops of the old walls; the hostile armed bands beleaguring the place; the watch-fire glowing with lurid glare on Staunton's lofty tower, a beacon to

friend and foe; the soldiery of king Charles and the Parliament remorselessly hewing down each other in their hostile strife; the wide-spread conflagration that wrapped the princely edifice in flames; and the solemn funeral procession when the faded dust of the lamented duchess was consigned to the tomb. These sterner scenes, however, were contrasted by others of a more agreeable though less exciting character, and the warlike and the sorrowful gave way to the peaceful and pleasant dreams of my fancy.

When we had taken refreshment at the village inn, we prepared for our departure. The fly and the bay mare were brought to the door, Thomas Christmas again became our charioteer, and after a pleasant drive, the fields of ruddy grain on either hand ready for the sickle, we arrived at our quiet destination, not ungrateful for our agreeable visitto Belvoir Castle.

THE MAILS TO THE ANTIPODES. THE vast number of adventurers who have crowded to the gold-bearing colonies, with whom correspondence is maintained by friends at home; the immense commercial transactions between the mother country and her southern dependencies, originated by the migration of population; and the ransacking of auriferous deposits; have rendered postal communication with Australia a somewhat bulky, weighty, and costly affair. The despatch of the mails to that quarter is in fact not unlike the transmission of an entire warehouse of closelypacked articles, occasionally equalling in size what the entire home and foreign correspondence of the United Kingdom was when the third George began to reign. The government contract mailship "Vimiera," Captain H. Neatby, sailed from Plymouth for Sydney, via the Cape, on the 5th of August last. Newspapers, letters, and other despatches of the post, filled 146 packages; of which, 57 bags and 1 box were for Port Phillip, 8 bags for Geelong, 14 for Van Diemen's Land, 2 for Western Australia, 22 for Adelaide, 34 for Sydney, 5 for Wellington, and 3 for Auckland. The mails for Van Diemen's Land, Swan River, and Adelaide, will be left at Melbourne, and transmitted from thence to their destination. Those for New Zealand will be taken on to Sydney. Only a few days before, the steam-ship "Sydney" took her departure for the same region, from the East India Docks, with mails nearly as heavy.

In 1851, the" Vimiera," in charge of her present commander, accomplished the outward passage to Port Phillip in ninety days, and returned from Sydney, by Cape Horn, in ninety-one days. In 1852, the vessel performed the same voyages-outward in eighty-seven days, and homeward in eighty-two days. Her present contract with the postmaster-general is to go out to Port Phillip in eighty-two days, for which she will receive 10007., and be liable to a penalty of 301. for every day's delay beyond the stipulated time. The ship took a picked crew of forty-eight hands, with thirty passengers, and a cargo of more than a thousand tons of manufactured goods, valued at upwards of 100,000l. The service will probably be accomplished in the specified period, of which we shall

« PreviousContinue »