to the bore. The shooting from this rifle appears to be very little inferior to that from the Enfield, except that there is said to be a great liability of the bullet fired from it to strip, that is to say, to be forced out without taking the twist. There is an advantage in this rifle, that the barrel does not require increased thickness to admit of grooving.

We learn also in these reports that the construction of breechloading muskets has reached a very great degree of perfection, and as this description of gun is so much more rapidly loaded, it is probable that breech-loading will be adopted for muskets when any change is considered necessary.

Lastly, we must notice a trial at Hythe of the Whitworth rifle, that has been published in the daily papers. The bore is smooth, and the rotatory movement is given to the bullet as in Mr. Lancaster's musket. The peculiarity of the new rifle is an hexagonal bore, with a twist of two turns in about 39 inches.

The following is the reported result of the trial of the Whitworth against the Enfield rifle; ten shots were fired from a rest with each arm at each distance,:

The reported results of the trial of the Whitworth and Enfield rifles for penetration are equally in favour of the former. The Whitworth rifle drove a bullet through 33 half-inch elm planks, while the bullet from the Enfield rifle stuck in the 13th plank.

In concluding these lectures, we may suggest that the use of cannelures would probably greatly increase the accuracy of shooting from the Enfield musket; and if, by experiment, it is found that the use of cannelures will permit an increase in the length of the bullet, greater range and less elevation would also be obtained.

GOLD COAST ARTILLERY.-This corps is to be armed with the Minié, and augmented from the Royal Artillery. Captain Duke died of fever at Cape Coast Castle, April 8th, 1857. Major Bird is on a tour of inspection; the command devolves on Lieutenant Andrews; this fortunate young officer has served only fourteen months. Lieutenant Cumming has been appointed magistrate and collector of customs at Winnebah, on the Gold Coast.

SOLDIERING IN BENGAL.

CHAPTER I.

First sight of the gorgeous East-Mosquitoes-Steam-tug-Letters! letters!First mild Hindoo-Garden Reach-First shock to our nerves-LandingThe "Punch" house, and our experience thereof-A look from our windowsThe "Mall". Sleeping beauties-First experience of servants- Station of Chinsurah, and what happened there-" Toddy" and its collectors.

ON a calm sultry morning in October, the soil of India first rose before us, as our vessel slowly glided towards Saugor island; and yet, long before island or aught else of land was visible, there seemed to rise, spectre-like, from mid ocean, a tall feathery plume, which, as the morning sun dispelled the universal haze that hung around, first attracted our attention. Shortly we observed other and similar plumes, but of less stately dimensions, then a dense mass of brushwood covering a low muddy island, scarcely elevated above the sea level, made its appearance; then came a lighthouse, and dotted as it were in the shallow and muddy water in its vicinity stood spars at various angles, marking the spot where some frail skiff had sunk during some of those terrific squalls or hurricanes that periodically devastate this locality.

And now if the morning was sultry the day became doubly so ; a faint, heavy smell tainted the air, and as the vessel glided on her course, and point after point of the low-lying jungly Soonderbunds appeared, a kind of oppression came over us, for were not fever and cholera as plainly indicated by the scene as if they had been written in huge letters upon each of the long, low, slimy banks, that seemed fit habitations for the stealthy tiger, the alligator, and gigantic crane, or "adjutant," which form the denizens of their hidden recesses?

Such is the first view of the sunny East that greets the gaze of the romantic, or may hap necessitous traveller, whose destiny has led him so far; and for a time the prospect does not improve: he sees nothing but muddy water, sandy banks, and still come a succession of traces of wreck. Evening approaches, and the air is now absolutely thick with haze, rising as it were in clouds from the water. He thinks he can feel malaria, complains of nausea and faintness, takes his glass of brandy and water (for at sea this is the universal custom), rushes earlier than usual to his cabin, shuts close the windows, and determines to sleep. Alas! alas! how futile are human plans and human wishes! The cabin is suffocatingly hot, and a new enemy has appeared in the myriads of gnats and mosquitoes that flock from off the shore, and buzz and sting around and upon each exposed spot, until the sufferer, absolutely driven to desperation, rushes frantically on deck, preferring to have the much-dreaded malaria from the banks than the attacks of such cruel and insatiable enemies. It may be that towards morning, wearied, exhausted, and feverish, the stranger again attempts to sleep, soon to be aroused by the noise attending the raising of the anchor and getting the vessel under way,-for now the intricacy of navigation has become so great that it is unsafe to proceed at night; and now what is his horror to find one at least, or perhaps both his eyes

half closed, his face swollen, and lips prominent like those of Ethiop's sons, from the poison inserted through the proboscis of his little nocturnal tormentors!

It may be that a steamer now heaves in sight, either on her way back from the "sandheads," whither she has tugged some outwardbound, or cruising about on spec., looking for vessels requiring her services. The captain has some time previously resigned command of his charge to the pilot, who boarded long before aught of land was visible, but, knowing the advantages of proceeding up the river by steam, hails the tug-boat as she comes close alongside.

"What will you take us up for?" he shouts through his speaking trumpet.

"Eight hundred rupees!" responds the brandy-and-cheroot-facecoloured commander of the tug.

"Give you three," returns our captain; but instead of further parley he hears the order given "go on ahead," and away steams the tug.

The passengers now look crestfallen and begin to think of nights on board; of more heat and more mosquitoes; but, worse and far more dangerous than all, of the fearful "James and Mary sand," with the risk of crossing which they have become pretty familiar, by report at least, during their sea voyage.

At the place known by this name, the deep channel over the muddy shoal changes with wonderful rapidity, and from the powerful and treacherous eddy of the river Hooghly here, many a ship has been twisted right round by it, and in a few minutes not a vestige of her or her passengers left above water. Dangerous then at all times, it is doubly so to vessels crossing it without the aid of steam, and already have our nervous passengers suffered, in imagination at least, all the horrors of the dreadful fate which has here overtaken so many hopeful, or it may be weak and exhausted fellow-creatures, as they thought themselves now fairly on their way to the land of their birth, to enjoy the fruits of honourable exertion and enterprise; or of those, far more numerous but less fortunate, who have to rush away from a climate that has inoculated them with fatal disease, and a further residence in which would but too surely accelerate a catastrophe which may by timely removal be delayed at least, if not averted.

While these and similar fears absorb the minds of many on board, the steamer is seen rounding to, then returning, and again she comes close alongside. Now the dialogue commences by her "captain,” as he stands on the paddle-box, with scanty covering save on his head. which together with his face is concealed by a nondescript but most uncouth-looking hat, of gigantic circumference-or helmet-like-or with no particular resemblance to any known thing.

"Now, then, I'll take you for five," are the words that come from somewhere underneath the wonderful head-gear. "Give it, for goodness' sake!" exclaim the male portion of the passengers.. "There now, there's a dear, good captain," chime in the ladies; do, pray do, give it, and get us over that dreadful James and Mary."

66

Our old skipper knows what he's about, however, takes as much heed of his beseeching fair ones as of his masculine, and by this time

exceedingly hirsute companions-that is, he attends to neither, but through his trumpet shouts the monosyllable "Four!" A hand waves under the nondescript hat, in another minute we are taken in tow, and merrily cleaving the thick brown water of the river, hoping to be at Calcutta by evening, or at all events early to-morrow morning.

And now soon comes another cause of excitement. A small boat is seen being paddled along far ahead, but evidently towards us; it is soon recognized as the dawk, or post-boat, for the "number" of our ship has been up since daylight, and has been recognized on shore. Soon we gain upon the frail craft,* which appears so loosely put together and so wretchedly made that we fear she must be swamped by the commotion occasioned by the paddle wheels. She is not swamped, however; neither does she appear to suffer very materially in any way.

A rope is thrown to her as she is under our side, and in less time than it takes to write it, two or three half-naked savages seem to climb the bare sides of the vessel and are on deck. Home notions of delicacy are shocked at once by the scanty clothing of these black chattering beings,-white handkerchiefs cover some fair faces, others are averted, and others accompany their owners "below," whither the scared ones flee. A bag is opened by one of the half-naked savages, and in an instant papers and letters bestrew the deck.

"Letters! letters! letters !" resounds throughout the ship, and the pleasant sound soon overcomes all other feelings. A rush is now made to where the missives of love, or friendship, or misfortune, or tyranny, lie about in wild confusion; they are speedily "overhauled;" the well-known handwriting of some distant friend or relation, or some person bearing a yet more tender name, is at a glance recognized, and quickly the bunch diminishes, while those who are fortunate enough to receive letters retreat to their cabins, there to hide the agitation, or the blush, or other effect produced by their communications, according as their contents are acceptable or otherwise. But the letters have not yet been paid for, and the knowing postman, habituated to such scenes, is perfectly aware how to act his part. He has hitherto been seated on his haunches, monkey-like, in one of the corners close by, for he carries his list of letters together with their rates of postage with him. Now he intimates to the captain, in words that to most on board seem strange and uncouth, that he wishes to be paid at once, as he must be off; and now comes another curious scene. A tariff of rupees, annas, and pies, in various amounts, comes to be levied upon persons who, perhaps, have never heard before of either, and now have no conception of their value; neither have they yet learned the necessity of having a supply in their possession to guard against such contingencies as the present; the captain is the only resource, for he has learned always to have some with him for such an occasion, but there is no change, and what is to be done?

The Kedgeree dawk boats, as now made, are of a very superior and more seaworthy description than they were at the time alluded to in these notes. U. S. MAG., No. 345, AUG., 1857.

2 M

"Yes,

"Oh, never mind," says one, "the postman will give it." true, so he will," says another. "Of course he will," repeats a third; and so on throughout the group now assembled. But the "gentle Hindoo," mild and innocent as he appears, has anticipated all this long before, and approaching the captain, with hands upraised in the attitude of supplication, as represented in prints of "the infant Moses," begs the lord of sun and moon and all the stars to permit his slave to depart; the passengers come forward with their borrowed rupees, and, having previously been informed how much change they ought to receive, make the demand accordingly. But, according to post-office regulations, the letter-carriers are not required to give "change," and the mild-looking "infant Moses" knows how to make his profits from the newly-arrived and much-detested "Feringhee." He seems to become impatient to be off, tells us that he must be back at the post-office at a certain hour, that if he is not he will be beaten or dismissed, and then what can he do ?-he is a poor man, his lord's slave, and both his father and mother are dead. In the mean time, everybody has tried and failed to obtain change from everybody else; the mild but benighted pagan shows greater and increasing impatience to take his departure, and at last, where pies were the amount charged, he gets rupees, swings himself over the side of the vessel in the same mysterious manner that he came on board; his skiff casts off; the mild expressionless features now relax into something like a grin as he squats in his place, and people ask each other will he give the surplus money to the postmaster to be credited to the profit and loss account of the government, or will he carefully balance his accounts as he is rowed shoreward, pay the amount charged on the paper in his possession, and carefully conceal the balance until his return home? Ay! which of these, indeed, is he most likely to do? A little further experience of the natives will show; only depend upon it, it is not so bad a thing after all to take off ships' letters at Kedgeree.

As we ascend the river, little occurs for a long time to break the monotony of the scenery on shore; jungle and mud and marks of wrecks of country craft occur for many miles. At last we reach a landmark, known as Silver-tree pagoda, and while passing it are told how, while it was being built, twenty-four of the workmen were carried off and devoured by tigers; and now all eyes turn to the jungles, and people wonder to themselves that they see none of these forest monarchs prowling about like so many kittens; and then they look along the banks for crocodiles, and are equally surprised not to discover any. "Dear me !" exclaims a young beardless cadet who lisps, is just from school and his grandmother; "how very strange! where can they all have gone to, for I know there are numbers about? Aunt Jemima told me, before I left home, that I should see the banks crowded with both all along to Calcutta.'

At last, recollecting all about the dreaded shoal that had filled us with fear and trembling, some one timidly inquires of the pilot "Where is the James and Mary ?"—and, to the relief of every one, we learn we crossed it long ago.