the gale had subsided, the Flora Macdonald walked right into a cul de sac of "sunken rocks," for which her Captain had been looking out all the night, and had just gone below, in the confidence that the danger was past. So thoroughly had she got into the bight of the rocks, that she had barely space to turn on her own bottom, stand out to sea, and wait for morning. After all this, by some strange and unaccountable accident-one of those things that are so contrary to all the probabilities on which men make their calculations and ground their expectations, that they would be deemed impossibilities, but that they do occasionally happen-the Flora Macdonald actually did make the port of Maulmein. The noble heroine, from whom the craft derives her name, did not encounter more perils in her chivalrous journey from Benbecula to Portree, than did her namesake in this voyage across the Bay of Bengal. In both cases, all the chances were, humanly speaking, against them; but in both cases, a kind Providence, upholding gallant hearts, brought them safely through.

And this ought to be told, for the credit of cur author and his shipmates, that the same cheerful spirit that was manifested by the noble but unfortunate protegé of the first Flora Macdonald, was displayed in no less "creditable" circumstances by the party in the cuddy of the second. We cannot do better than present our readers with a short extract from that part of our author's narrative which describes the "taking off" of the storm :

"It is needless attempting to detail all the misery we endured 6 during the continuance of this gale, and after it. For myself, unaccustomed to such a life, I may fairly say, that for six days I had no sleep by night, except in broken, occasional naps of half an hour, nor rest by day. Nor can I be said ever to have had dry clothes on < me from the beginning to the end. As for shoes and stockings, and such superfluities, they were vanities of which none of us ever dreamed, for, at least, nine days. Independently of the wretchedness of being below in our crammed cabin, (which, I need hardly tell you, was · never got "to rights") now additionally stuffed with wet sails and 'wet clothes, and where, even yet, I hardly ever felt free from sea 'sickness-various promptings kept me on deck all day, and much of the night. There, saturated by the pelting and chilling rain, I have even been glad when a sea, breaking, would wash over me, to warm me and prevent the ill effects of a fresh-water soaking. The only necessary care upon such occasions was to secure a good hold, 'lest the salt-water preservation should prove more lasting than desir⚫able.

"You will not suppose that, during this time, we permitted all the 'water that was either under, above, or about us, to damp our spirits, or rob us, when not ill-timed, of our jokes. Such occasions, indeed, are generally productive of a large share, and often have we wished that some of our friends could have seen us at our brief meals, mocking the refinements of shore life," dodging" a squall of rain, or a sea, or patiently sitting under both, despatching our food

'with all despatch, lest a fresh squall or a fresh sea should despatch it for us.

6

"Enough getting worse, Sir!' had been the accustomed resIponse to the one all-important and oft-repeated query: the men, losing heart, refused at one time to venture out on the fore-part of 'the ship, until stimulated by the courage and example of our mate, Mr. Friedman; whilst an anxious eye had been kept to leeward, 'the appearance of which threatened a return wind and a cross sea, which must assuredly have engulphed our little barque. But

6

' when things are at the worst they oft-times mend. On the fifth day the gale abated, and we once more showed a little low canvass, ' and proceeded at a rattling pace on our course—as well, that is to say, as the want of observations enabled us, for, during all this time, " you may suppose, we never saw the sun."

It is sufficiently evident, from Mr. Grant's description of this terrific gale, that it, was a regular and proper cyclone; there was no reason to fear a "return wind,” for the Flora Macdonald had now gone through the cyclone, and not merely reached its centre. In fact, we are not sure that it was not precisely from the centre of it that our voyagers started at the Sand-heads. They had there a change from a north-east breeze to a south-west gale, after an interval of "a dead and portentous calm, the sails loudly flapping against the 'masts, the main-boom jerking from side to side, and the vessel, to our 'extreme annoyance, rolling to a degree that would worry the patience out of a stoic." All these symptoms closely resemble what ought to be experienced in the centre of a cyclone: and it is evident that if this were the position of our voyagers, not all the skill of Reid and Maury and Piddington united, could have saved them from what they had to encounter. They were in it, and out of it they must get. We suppose the best thing that they could do was just to keep the head of their little craft as near the wind as possible, and trust to the strength of her build, and to a kind Providence.

Having now landed our author on the shores of Burmah, we must refer our readers to the work before us, for an accouut of all the hospitality that he there received, and of the treatment he met with at the hands of the Burmese authorities, who chose to deem that his sketch-book and pencils boded some dire calamity to the Lord of the golden foot. Suffice it to say here, that he escaped from the hands of these worthies, at a somewhat cheaper rate than Messrs. Lewis and Sheppard at a later period, and that he shortly after set his face Calcutta-ward, with invigorated health and a well-filled portfolio.

We presume that it is the interest that now attaches to Burmah, that has induced Mr. Grant, at this late period, to have recourse to his Burman Sketch-book, and to present the world with the elegant "pencillings” before us. They are by no means worthy of the depreciating epithet that he applies to them. The views are well chosen, and the sketches are accurately drawn and well lithographed. In fact, if we were disposed to find fault, we should say, in respect

to a few of them, that they are scarcely so rough as we should have liked them. A bolder and a rougher style would, to our thinking, have suited better the character of some of the subjects. But altogether we are persuaded that the public will agree with us when we pronounce our opinion, that the sketches indicate the possession, on Mr. Grant's part, of a very high degree of taste, and the power of expressing that taste in pictorial language; and that this publication, his first essay, as we believe, in this line of art,-will bring no discredit on a name that has long been favorably known amongst us, as well for the numerous private portraits that adorn so many of our halls, as for his various published works.

As to the literary merits of the work before us, we are glad to notice a very decided improvement in Mr. Grant's style, since the publication of his Anglo-Indian Domestic Sketch. The composition of the present work is less ambitious, less labored, simpler, and decidedly better.

We have only further to say, that Mr. Grant's efforts to produce a handsome and attractive book, have been ably seconded by the printers and the binders, and we have no doubt, that a remunerative sale will be the speedy result.

The Cultivation of Cotton.- Can India grow Cotton of a sufficiently good quality to compete with the produce of the United States? London. 1852.

The Deccan Ryots and their Land Tenure. By H. Green, Professor of Literature at Poona College. Bombay. 1852.

Ar present we merely acknowledge the receipt of these two pamphlets, reserving a full notice of them for a future number.

SANDERS, CONES AND CO., TYPS., NO. 14, LOLL BAZAR.