honour of his name, to advance the interests of his kingdom. If we rejoice to look back, as Abraham rejoiced to look forward to his day; if he is to us, as he was to the Psalmist, all our salvation and all our desire, then, assuredly, we shall be fired with a holy zeal to hasten that time, when from the rising even to the going down of the sun his name shall be great among the heathen; the prelude of that day when he shall appear in glorious majesty to judge both the quick and the dead. Alas, our lukewarmness in this particular may easily be traced to the little value that we affix to the knowledge which we possess of God's purposes of mercy in his Son. It is because we do not estimate aright the blessings of redemption, that we seek not to impart a knowledge of them to others; it is because we are not constrained by the love of the Redeemer, that we feel so little interested for the welfare of our fellow-men; and it becomes us to consider upon what principle we can lay claim to be regarded as Christians, if we are neither anxious that the glory of the Redeemer should be advanced, or the blessings of his salvation be made known; if, while the fields are white unto the harvest, we send not forth labourers into these fields; if, while the cry of the heathen is the entreaty of the man of Macedonia to St. Paul, we send not over and help them;-for, to use the words of Dr. Johnson, "He that voluntarily continues ignorant is guilty of all the crimes which ignorance produces; as to him that should extinguish the tapers of a light-house might justly be imputed the calamities of shipwreck."*

Biography.

THE REV. JAMES GRAHAME, Author of "The Sabbath."+

AMONG those who have added to the stores of poesy in Scotland, few names are more worthy of honourable mention than that of the subject of the present memoir. An ardent admirer of the beauties of nature, and imbued with a strong religious feeling, his poems can scarcely fail to impress the heart; while the peculiarly painful circumstances of his early removal, and the disappointments he met with, add a melancholy interest to his biography.

Mr. Graham was born at Glasgow, April 22, 1765, where his father was a respectable writer, or solicitor. Having been educated at the public grammar-school, he was led by his situation and connexions to the pursuits of business; and as several of his brothers had followed the employment of the law, his friends turned their views for him to those manufacturing pursuits which had brought such an accession of wealth to that quarter of Scotland. He was accordingly placed with a manufacturer at Paisley. The occupations in which he was now necessarily engaged, were little suited to his taste. Ile resolved, therefore, to

Letter to Mr. Drummond.

† See "Lives of Sacred Poets," by R. A. Willmot, Esq.; Biog. Notice in Scots Mag. 1811, &c.

follow his father's profession, and returned to Glasgow to complete his studies at the University. Here, it is said, he applied with so much ardour, that a Greek or Latin author was his constant companion. By his father's persuasion, he embraced the profession of the law, although his own feelings were in favour of the Church, A Greek Testament was always to be found at his bedside.

Having served the usual term of apprenticeship, he became a writer to the signet in 1790, but was subsequently admitted advocate in 1795. The kindred employment of the bar appeared to offer more leisure, and a mode of life better corresponding with the habits and pursuits of a man of letters. He accordingly gave it the preference, and spent in it the greater part of his succeeding life. Without being ever very

highly employed, he soon attained a respectable share of practice, which allowed him at once leisure and competence. His poetical fancies were, meanwhile, not neglected, and several pleasing sketches of the months, afterwards collected in the "Rural Calendar," appeared under a fictitious signature in the Kelso Mail.

In the spring of 1802, Mr. Grahame married the daughter of Mr. Richard Grahame of Annan, in Dumfriesshire. His first poetical production was a tragedy on the subject of Mary Queen of Scots; "but it did not obtain, nor perhaps merit, any great share of popularity:" Many parts of it were distinguished by that pleasing and picturesque imagery which afterwards made his poems so much admired; but a merit so little appropriate could not save a piece which wanted the peculiar requisities of dramatic excellence. It is always, with the right thinking, a matter of regret when poetical talents are exercised in dramatic compositions; and the non-success of the tragedy in question may have been of great importance to Mr. Grahame. Who that knows any thing of the true character of theatrical representations, and is at all interested in the well-being of society, can fail to lament that talents should be wasted in the production of that which may prove detrimental to the spiritual welfare of thousands?

Mr. Grahame's most important work was "The Sabbath," which he undertook after a considerable interval, and his occupation in it was studiously concealed, even from his wife. To avoid the observation of his friends, his publisher and he met at different taverns. The work appeared in 1804. He took a copy home, and placing it on the parlour table, he soon found his wife reading it, and he continued to walk up and down the room until Mrs. Grahame exclaimed, "Ah, James, if you could but produce a poem like this!"

The success of "The Sabbath" induced Mr. Grahame to undertake another work; and in a year or two afterwards he published "The Birds of Scotland," with other poems; which, however, did not become equally popular. It was composed in the retirement of Kirk

hill.

"These poems," says a reviewer, "bear nearly the same character with that of 'The Sabbath,' which has obtained for Mr. Grahame so ample a share of celebrity. They display the same delicacy, intimate acquaintance with nature, and the same feeling and amiable cast of mind; and they have also the same faults of languor and extreme minuteness."

Mr. Grahame's health had now considerably declined; and he felt inadequate to undergo the labour and fatigue of the bar. His passion for rural tranquillity and a life of contemplation, joined to his feelings of devotion, led him to regret that he had not originally devoted himself to clerical pursuits. Although he was now somewhat advanced in life, it appeared not too late to make the change, as he possessed a small independence, which would enable him to support his family during the interval of expectancy.

Having fully resolved to enter the English Church, he proceeded to Chester, and from thence to London, where he was ordained by Dr. Bathurst, bishop of Norwich, May 28, 1809; his lordship being induced, by the consideration of his merits and qualifications, to dispense with the attendance at one of the English universities. While residing on a curacy at SkiptonMayne, in Gloucestershire, he became a candidate for the ministry of St. George's Chapel, York-place, Edinburgh; but was unsuccessful. He went to Durham, in the hope of obtaining a minor canonry; but here, also, he was disappointed; and after officiating three months as sub-curate in the chapelry of St. Margaret, he was appointed curate of Sedgfield, by the rector, the Rev. George (afterwards Lord Viscount) Barrington, nephew of the bishop of the diocese. The indisposition under which Mr. Grahame laboured baffled the power of medicine to remove it increased with such rapidity, that he was induced to return to Edinburgh; where, at the house of his only surviving sister, Mrs. Archibald Grahame, he received all the affectionate attentions which the melancholy state of his health required. He had constant oppression of the head, and swimming before his eyes. Hoping that the air of his native town might be more salutary than that of Edinburgh, he set out for Glasgow, accompanied by his wife. "Though very ill when he departed," writes his friend," and aware of his danger, he did not imagine his dissolution so near; but was animated with the idea of visiting the scenes of his early days and happiest recollections. He even hoped to preach in his native town, and took two sermons for that purpose, the subjects of which bear a striking analogy to the situation of their author; the text of them being, 'O Death, where is thy sting?' The victory, indeed, was soon to be his. He became worse by the way; and two days after, having arrived at White Hill, near Glasgow, the residence of his eldest brother, he expired on the 14th of September, 1811, in the forty-seventh year of his age."

"If Grahame had produced nothing but 'The Sabbath Walks,' his name," says Mr. Willmott, "would not have been written in water.' The sounds and colours of the varying seasons seem blended with his verse. His Biblical Pictures' are less open to objection than almost any paraphrases of Scripture I happen to remember. The simple grandeur of the original is generally preserved; and the illustrations occasionally introduced are appropriate to the subject."

...

"An affecting record of his last hours," observes Mr. Willmott, "was contributed by a contemporary journal. After his tongue," concludes the writer, "could no longer give utterance to his thoughts, his looks of tenderness and benignity towards the friends who surrounded his sick-bed, unequivocally proved that his heart still glowed with its accustomed feelings; that the amiable and gentle virtues which through life adorned his character, contributed to support and soothe him in his latest moments." There is every reason to believe, that the ground of Mr. Grahame's hope and confidence, his peace and composure at the last, was not his amiable and gentle virtues: these he possessed indeed; but they were not the sure foundation in which he trusted. His writings prove that he had a better confidence, and a more scriptural hope; and that he felt supported by that Saviour, in whose service he was for a short time permitted to minister.

M.

SKETCHES FROM A TRAVELLER'S
PORTFOLIO.

No. XII.-The Brand Strasse.

I WAS sojourning a short time, during the past summer, in the ancient city of Strasbourg. Having sallied out one bright morning for an early walk, I entered, at no great distance from the glorious cathedral, which was always the object of chief attraction to me, a winding darkish street. Few persons were there-perhaps it was not much of a thoroughfare, or perhaps it was too soon in the day for many of the inhabitants to be stirring. I passed the Hotel-de-Ville, which appeared quiet and still, and next a military station, by the entrance of which a small party of soldiers were lounging, and then I came to the Prefecture. The gates of the court-yard stood wide open, and so I went in. But there was not a soul there to be seen. The Prefecture itself is a large, almost semicircular building, looking shabby and dull. But in front of it there were a number of acacias in full flower, throwing their tall heads and graceful foliage into the clear morning sky, and affording shelter to the early songsters who carolled their welcome to the returning day. Scarcely any other sounds met my ear; and it seemed as if, in the midst of a crowded city, I had found the stillness and solitude of a desert. I thought that this could not have always been so; for in the stirring times of war, not so long gone by, doubtless the tramp of horse and the tread of men had hurried over the spot where I was standing. Doubtless the bustle of authority, and the concourse of the people, had often filled that court-yard, when the great city had heaved, as it were, with the news of some victory, or the dread of some approaching foe, or the tumult of intestine dissension. But my thoughts were soon carried farther back. For here, in this silent spot-here had once ascended the smoke and spiry flames of a devouring fire-here had resounded the groan and the shriek of many victims consumed in that blazing furnace-here had risen the wild execrations of an infuriate multitude, thrusting men, and women, and children into the flames, and gloating over the spectacle of their torments. For this was the Brand Strasse, or Fire Street; and here, where the Prefecture now stands, two thousand Jews had been murdered in one large fire.

I pictured to my mind the scenes of that woful time. I could almost imagine that I saw the sad procession, the dark and frowning brows of the men, and the frantic grief of the delicate females, and the remorseless rage of the savage executioners; and my thoughts wandered over the various circumstances of the tragedy. The fanatic sect of the Flagellants had first arisen in the thirteenth century in Italy, whence it diffused itself through most other parts of Europe. Then-for it is the property of enthusiasm to exhibit irregular bursts of zeal, rather than a steady consistent flame-then it had become well nigh extinct, till about the year 1349 the spirit of this delusion was again kindled. The companies assembled twice a day, and having stripped off their garments, they whipped themselves before the people with scourges loaded with nails and spurs. Multitudes of all ranks and ages, and of both sexes, joined in the horrid rites, filling the air with dreadful shrieks, and, looking towards hea

ven with a distracted countenance, they sadly and dolefully offered up their prayers. Their worship resembled that of the priests of Baal, but their temper was more bloody, and their acts more disastrous, even than theirs. For they read aloud at their meetings a letter, which they said an angel had brought to them, in which God commanded them to undergo their macerations, that they might relieve the souls that were in purgatory, and stop the miseries that then devastated Germany. The next step was, of course, to endeavour, with such weapons as fury could put into their hands, to rid the world of those whom they deemed to have polluted it. The people of Spires and Strasbourg, and several other cities, had been drawn into this fraternity; and doubtless the unhappy Jews, long accustomed to pay the penalty of public | calamity and public excitement, viewed with apprehension the darkening cloud. Their wealth was, as much as possible, concealed under the guise of poverty, and collected into the smallest compass, in order that, on the shortest notice, they might be able to flee. But, alas, where could they find refuge? The earth was armed against them, and the curse of God and the enmity of man seemed alike to press heavily upon the branded race. Was outrage and torture a likely means to win them over to Christ? No; in the form of Christianity displayed before their eyes, they could not recognise a religion proceeding from a just and merciful God; and the dread of the tormentor, though it might force some of them to play the hypocrite, and outwardly profess the name of Jesus, yet fostered more surely in their hearts their inextinguishable hatred of the crucified man of Nazareth.

In various places the passions of the people, urged by the madness of the Flagellants, had broken forth into murder. In Frankfort, and other cities, the Jews were massacred; and at Strasbourg, while yet unmolested, their hearts were failing them for fear, and for looking after those things that were coming upon them. In that miserable year, too, a plague wasted Europe. From city to city, and province to province, and kingdom to kingdom, the pestilence stalked on. The grey hairs of the aged were brought down in sorrow to the grave, as the blooming youth and the beautiful maid fell like corn before the reaper's sickle. There is nothing which more touchingly exhibits the power and judgment of God than the rapid march of plague. It is true that in battle as many may fall in as short a space; but there the hand of man is seen at work, each destroying his fellow; whereas in plague the boasted power of man is helpless, and the hand is known to be that of God. And yet, so stubborn is the human heart, that even when smitten, it will not humble itself, nor learn the plainest lessons which God's judgments are intended to teach. The fire may devastate, and the stormy wind may rend, and the earthquake may overthrow; but it is the still small voice alone of his Spirit which reveals him to the soul.

The Jews, it may be thought, died in less numbers than other persons by the plague. Perhaps, hunted as they were from society, they were less exposed to the contagion. And then a diabolical spirit of vengeance was roused against them. The bereaved mother, who had wept over her children's agonies and death,

invoked Heaven's wrath upon the Jews. The father, who looked in silent anguish around his desolate home, was nerving his resolution to exact justice, as he called it, from the Jews. O, what an inconsistent thing is the soul of man; and how near are the extremes often brought of pity and merciless cruelty, of affection and unrelenting hatred! The Jews were deemed guilty of poisoning the wells and fountains of water, and the torrent of popular rage burst vehemently out against them. In some places, the wildest excesses of punishment were inflicted on them; and generally they submitted unresistingly to their fate. In Mayence, however, they rose against their persecutors; but the abortive effort only aggravated and extended their calamities. I can vividly conceive the confusion and fear that reigned in Strasbourg. I can imagine the working of men's minds before the storm actually broke forth, and the signs of hate which scowled on the brow and glared from the eye, or dropped in smothered imprecations from the tongue of the people, as they walked in misery through their half-depopulated streets, and passed the habitations of the detested race, or discovered a Jew stealthily and fearfully gliding along a narrow alley to his insecure home. It was manifest that the thoughts of murder would on the first pretext be displayed in deeds. And it is likely the wail of grief for some specially afflicting bereavement, pointed, perhaps, with frenzied reproaches against some known or neighbouring Israelite, gave the signal of the tumult. I can almost see the dense crowds assembling, while the Jews bar hastily their doors, and strive to secure their most valuable effects. Now they feel the accomplishment of that heavy prediction, "The Lord shall scatter thee among all people; and among these nations shalt thou find no case, neither shall the sole of thy foot have rest: but the Lord shall give thee there a trembling heart, a failing of eyes, and sorrow of mind; and thy life shall hang in doubt before thee, and thou shalt fear day and night, and shalt have none assurance of thy life: in the morning thou shalt say, Would God it were even! and at even thou shalt say, Would God it were morning! for the fear of thine heart, wherewith thou shalt fear, and for the sight of thine eyes, which thou shalt see." How must the daughters of Judah, when they heard the approaching shout of the destroyers, have mourned over the misfortunes of their race! how must their desires have gone forth to their own lovely land, where their fathers dwelt in peace and blessedness, each man beneath his vine and his fig-tree, none daring to make them afraid! And their recollections of the ancient glory of Zion must have embittered the fate of the unhappy exiles. No deliverer interposed to protect them, no prodigy, as of old, deterred their enemies from the full satiation of their vengeance. Jehovah had given up his people, so that they drank the cup of trembling even to the dregs.

Every house was speedily plundered, and a huge pile was made of the materials. Troops of victims were hurried through the streets towards the fatal spot; young and old, rich and poor, were thrust together. And then the pile was lighted. Fiercely did the flames ascend, curling round the shrinking bodies it was made to devour; and loud were the shouts of derision and hatred that, on every fresh arrival of

enjoy the summer season at Pappanassam, where there are pavilions built on the verge of the Taumbrapurney river, contiguous to the water-fall called the Kallianniteertum. There are also evident remains of a palace at Pappanassam. This country, towards the hills, is subject to almost incessant rains, called Shonay. But the land-winds prevail, and are very violent in the months of July and August. The period of summer in Courtallum is generally considered beneficial to health, on account of the refreshing showers which abound on this range of the mountains and its neighbourhood for 10 or 15 miles. Bathing under the falls of the cataracts of the Taumbrapurney and Sittar rivers, is supposed to be beneficial. The principal times observed by the Hindus for bathing in the Courtallum water-fall are on the days of the Arpisse vissuvu, Chettri vissuvu, and Chettri púrrúnúm, or the days of the full moon in April. The latter originates from a tradition they have of its being the anniversary of the saffron rain. The people who resort here for bathing on that day ascend to the first fall of the stream, called Thane arrivú, or the Honeyfall. Besides the above-mentioned days of bathing, the Addi and Tie ammavassies, solar and lunar eclipses, are in general days for their ablutions. But the inhabitants of the neighbouring villages resort to it twice a-week, that is, on Mondays and Fridays: the last Friday in the month, especially, is considered a very auspicious day for it.

The gardens at Courtalluma bound with all sorts of exotic vegetables and fruits, such as cabbages, turnips, carrots, lettuce, &c., &c.; as well as oranges, limes, lemons, pumpelnoses, which are reared in abundance in the gardens of gentlemen. But the inhabitants of the country are rarely known to cultivate them. The N.E. monsoon commences here about the middle of October; previous to which time the European visitors abandon the place, and the wild animals of the hills often resort to shelter round their deserted buildings. In the months of December and January, fever, fluxes, and agues, prevail among the inhabitants; and the ravages by small-pox in February and March are often very alarming.

The mountains of Courtallum are the highest on that range of the Ghauts, but the summits are well cultivated in some parts, and abound with spice and coffee plantations. The persevering efforts of Mr. Casamajor on the part of government in the year 1800, have spread fertility over a small part of the mountains, which nature seemed to have consigned to everlasting barrenness. Besides the indigenous productions of cardamums, the nutmeg-tree, and the coffee. shrub, grow exuberantly in these gardens; and the annual expense to government in the year 1821, amounted to rupees 1,224, for the establishment of gardeners; but the production (of late), both in coffee and nutmeg, has abundantly repaid the expense, and is said to add considerably to the revenue of that collectorate.

The census of Tinnevelly was obtained from the respective village Kurnums, as they stood in the years 1821-22 and 23, during the collectorship of the late J. B. Hudleston, Esq., for the greater part, and concluded in the time of J. Munro, Esq., who issued strict injunctions to the several Tassildars, Zemindars, and Mittahdars, &c., enjoining them to advance the object of such inquiries by every means that lay in their power; in the hope of producing an accurate account of the population.

It appears, that an inquiry was instituted in the year 1811, requiring collectors of different districts to give their opinions on the population of their respective collectorates, in consequence of the prevalence of an epidemic fever which raged in the southern provinces, and caused a great mortality. The collector, J. Hepburn, Esq., furnished an estimate which contained 690,696, and in October 1817, according to a

statement prepared by J. Cotton, Esq., then collector, the population amounted to 629,350. But, by a better and more diligent inquiry, instituted by recommendation of Colonel Mackenzie, with the sanction of government in the year 1821, the result from the tables, drawn up according to the division of people into castes and professions, gives the whole population of Tinnevelly, including the Zemindaries, as 788,740 inhabitants; exclusive of the garrison, consisting of one battalion of native infantry, and its dependents.

The town of Tinnevelly is of considerable antiquity. It is situated upwards of a mile from the west bank of the Taumbrapurney river, at the distance of 35 miles from the sea (where that river disembogues), and the town consists of six principal villages, viz. 1st, Nelleiyambalam; 2d, Ettucunnarie: 3d, Tenputtee; 4th, Pautaputtu; 5th, Candiapary, and Palliaputtadapettah: these, with their subordinates, are so united as to form one chief town, which bears the common name of Tinnevelly, and contains 6857 houses, of which there are 142 upper-roomed and terraced, 323 low-terraced, and 741 tiled buildings, and the remainder thatched, giving 3:35 to each family, and 23,024 inhabitants. It is on a low site, surrounded by paddy-fields: the streets are under water during the rains. The town is advantageously situated on the Shutá Mallay, and Arnapuram canals, which form two fine branches of irrigation. There are 12 principal streets and 142 lanes, several of which have names descriptive of the various professions, castes, and employments of the inhabitants: the eastern and southern parts of the town are occupied chiefly by Bramins, and those to the north and west of the temple are lined with bazaars, and the houses of the Sudra part of the population. Except a few of the principal streets, that are wide and airy, they are intricate, and thickly crowded with houses: the greatest part have thatched roofs and mud walls; amongst these, however, are several edifices, as above enumerated, with attic floors, flat-terraced with sloping verandahs; and a few very handsome buildings. A commodious and extensive upper-roomed house, near the S. E. angle of the great car street, is the dwelling of a respectable and opulent Goozerat Bramin, of the name of Tocki. His residence is adorned with splendid furniture of British manufacture. Scarcely a year is said to pass without fire making some ravages among the thatched buildings. But the most dreadful calamity that ever happened to Tinnevelly was in the year 1779, when the fire reduced two-thirds of the town to ashes. Besides the bazaars, which are well furnished with commodities, there are several granaries, where paddy, dry grain, and other kinds of pulse, are sold. A market is held every Thursday in the western suburb, called Pallia Pettay, which was established in the reign of Mungamaul (the Queen of Madura), where several articles of consumption, such as grain, onions, yams, vegetables, cotton, yarn-cloths, nuts, salt fish, and salt (the two latter being brought from the coast), are exhibited for sale.

The great Shiven temple, which is dedicated to the goddess Candimadeammin, and her consort Nelliappen, bears marks of great antiquity and former grandeur. It is said to have enjoyed many privileges, which are found recorded in the numerous inscriptions on the walls and the inner apartments of the pagoda. The pagoda is composed of three square enclosures, one within the other; the outward wall is 770 feet by 550, 27 feet high and 4 feet thick. It has five spires or gobrums, that is, two on the east, facing the sunnadee; and the remaining three front the other cardinal points: six poojahs are daily performed, commencing from the dawn of day till midnight. Besides which, there are numerous other acts of private devotion performed.

The expense of the above ceremonies, conferred by government, amounts to 404 rupees per diem. There