the sides of the cabin, and watching for a lull to make a movement forward, we succeeded in getting upon deck. The sight was very fine, only you may depend on it, that the German Ocean, in a gale of wind, is very different from the pond in your private gardens. It has an angrier look than the Atlantic-the waves come shorter and quicker, and we must candidly confess they made a regular example of the unfortunate Clarence. No land was in sight, for a nasty grey fringe of mist and rain lay upon the limit of the sea line, and confined our view to the white-headed tumbling waters, and the writhing and jerking ship. Meanwhile the sky above was tolerably clear, but the wind was completely against us. Every now and then a huge wave hit right upon our bows, and seemed to drive us back for a minute or two, in spite of our three hundred horse-power; but the ship, shaking her head, like Scroggins after a facer from Gipsy Cooper, rushed forward again, only to be stopped by another tremendous body-blow, that made it go through the same process as before. As night closed in, we grew tired of watching the interminable struggle, and in spite of all the sights and sounds and smells we were certain to encounter in the cabin, we contrived to stagger safely below, and once more deposit ourselves in our crib. Our meditations this time were not of Rubini and Lablache, but of our own egregious folly in tempting the dangerous deep, when there were chaises and post-horses to be had on land. We also thought occasionally on powerful doses of ipecacuanha; and sometimes, when a lurch came deeper and longer-continued than ordinary, we confess we were not altogether forgetful of the President. Twentyfour hours of these miserable reflections would be unpleasant enough in December; but to go through all these distresses in the merry month of June, seemed so out of the course of nature, that we felt very much inclined to believe that the world was coming to an end. But if the world was not near its conclusion, our perils and disasters by sea were drawing near their close. The captain, finding it useless to buffet about with so chopping a sea, and perhaps feeling some little compassion for his passengers, put about on Monday morning, and at about twelve

o'clock cast anchor in Bridlington Bay. Upwards of a hundred ves-els of all shapes and sizes had taken shelter here before us, and we shall not soon forget the fine effect of so many ships lying under the bold cliffs of the Yorkshire coast, in comparatively smooth water, while, a short distance out to sea, the storm was still raging, and tossing the ocean into all manner of fantastic shapes. It is lucky we said comparatively smooth water, for even in the bay the waves were very disagreeable customers to any gentleman of weak nerves and debilitated stomach; and perhaps the motion in a smaller vessel would have been still more unpleasant, as it was not caused directly by the wind, but by the agitation of the tumultuous waves outside. They certainly were kicking up a tremendous row, and we were no little rejoiced to have got out of their clutches. The moment it had been announced that we were running for Bridlington Bay, a great stir took place among the passengers, many of whom determined, whatever it might cost, to get to land; and a message reached us from the ladies' cabin, that no time was to be. lost in securing a boat, as another night in the steam-boat would be certain death to all. So speaks nausea, the most immitigable of tyrants-with no regard to the circumstances of the case:-for, supposing us landed, how were we to get to Edinburgh? We had but thirty pounds in our pocket, and seven people to convey two hundred and fifty or sixty miles. However, we determined to get ashore, somehow or other, and fight our way northward the best way we could. Groups of pale-faced, hollow-eyed passengers, surrounded with carpetbags and travelling-cases, were now assembled on deck, and, by dint of soft words and hard ones alternately, we persuaded the two stewards to assist us in getting some of our luggage from the hold. But how to get to shore was now the difficulty. There were thirtythree of us determined, at all hazards, to leave the ship, and we were in some doubt as to the conveyance of so many. Shortly after dropping anchor, one of the coast boats, a low-lying Yorkshire cobble, with one little lug sail, doublereefed, and as black as a soot-bag, came alongside, and a little fellow tripped on board-a true Yorkshire jockey, though in a different element,

with very cunning eyes, set in a face which was by no means unlike a dried dog-fish, and said he was ready to carry any party ashore that desired it. The distance was perhaps a mile, and his charge only five shillings a-piece, -an exorbitant demand, which gave us a very luminous view of the advantages of a monopoly. The first party that went ashore consisted of fourteen, and as a parson and his family belonged to it, the sailors began to hope the wind would go down; for there is a very amiable superstition among seamen, perhaps handed down by tradition from the days of Jonah, that whenever a clergyman comes on board there is likely to be foul weather. The absence of our reverend friend, however, had no perceptible effect, and the sky seemed rather to get more and more threatening all round. Ours was the next turn, and being joined by a lady and her son-a pretty little boy in delicate health, who had suffered very severely from the sickness-our party was increased to nine. We looked over the gunwale of the steamer with no slight misgivings, as we saw the cobble we were to go in rising and falling with the swell alongside; sometimes sunk far below the stairs that had been let down for our accommodation, and sometimes heaved so high up on the crest of a wave, that we could nearly have stepped into her from the deck. But so great was the general distaste for another night on board, that nothing could daunt the patriotic ardour of the whole of our party to touch once more" their own, their native land; or, indeed, any other land, provided only it was firm and dry. We got boxes and baskets tossed into the cobble, and by watching our time when the swell brought its gunwale just to the level of the step we stood on, we got safely in beside them, though at the expense of wet feet; for the waves had broke into her, and left her about half a foot deep in the floor. The children had next to be embarked, and the Yorkshire boatmen showed a very decided genius for cricket; for such bowling and catching we have seldom seen at Lord's, and we doubt whether Pilch and Lily white would have performed so well, the balls being children, and the wicket a Yorkshire hogboat. Great strong healthy boats these same

cobbles undoubtedly are; high in the bows and low in the stern, they dash off the water without shipping a cupful while in motion; and with their stout mast and low sail, they take only as much wind as is good for them, and are as safe, when well handled, as a seventy-four. We glided gallantly through the waves, and on rounding the stone pier at Bridlington, found ourselves in perfectly calm water, in the midst of a host of coal barges and coasting vessels which were lying We quietly alongside the wharf. proceeded without loss of time to the principal inn, called the Britannia, and were shown into a comfortable room with a blazing fire, and were immediately welcomed by two of our late companions who had the start of us, and were solacing themselves with hot toast and tea. In this pleasing occupation we soon joined them, and speedily became like that numerous and enviable class of the queen's subjects, the gentlemen of England who live at home at ease, and very little think upon the dangers of the seas. Our thoughts were now rather on chaises and postilions, and the desirableness of a good map; for it seemed incredible to us that the nearest way to Scotland was through York.

But so it was. Our two

friends, who were merely tra velling, as they expressed it, for a lark, had even discovered that their best way was to go to Hull by a coach, and thence to York by the railway, making a distance of nearly eighty miles. We thought at first they were specimens of the proud Republic, they talked so knowingly about the Atlantic and the President; their attitudes, also, corroborated our impression, as one sat with his leg thrown over the back of his chair, and the other threw himself with easy negligence at full length on the floor; but we gathered from their conversation that they were from the neighbourhood of Southampton, and concluded they had acquired those American refinements in the course of their intercourse with that highly polished and freedom-loving people.

While the children were being settled for the night in the nice clean rooms of the Britannia, we strolled out to the pier. It is built of magnificent blocks of red sandstone from Whitby, and in summer weather—as

this ought to have been-must be a delightful promenade. It commands a splendid view of the deep circular bay, and the bold projections of Flamborough Head-the whole shore not unlike the bay of Sandown in the Isle of Wight, and the Culver cliffs. The gale was still piping its loudest, and the crowd of shipping was immense. Our worthy friend the Dogfish was reaping a golden harvest, and making trips between the shore aud the Clarence continually. The country round Bridlington is very beautiful; and as a great deal of "quality" come to the quay in autumn, it must be one of the nicest little watering-places on the eastern coast. The village of Bridlington itself is distant about a mile; and, if it has no other recommendation, must at least be very healthy, for in the churchyard is at tombstone to the memory of Thomas Newman, aged 153-without any note or comment on his extraordinary longevity, but a mere announcement of the fact, as in other places one seesdied such a one, aged sixty-five. We suspect some waggish mason must have interpolated the first figure, and added a century to the age of the said Thomas Newman, who died in reality at the very moderate age of fifty-three -the date of the death is 1542, so it is now too late to find out the truth.

But time presses-a large old-fashioned barouche is at the door on Tuesday morning at ten o'clock; and after bundling our whole party into the capacious interior, we mount the box beside the driver, and amid bows and curtsies from waiters and chambermaids, we trot up the solitary street, turning our backs, nothing loth, on the good ship the Clarence, which we perceive still riding at anchor among the shipping in the bay. Our first stage was to Driffield, twelve miles through a beautiful country, with capital roads the horses, though rum ones to look at, were rare ones to go-and the wind, which made it somewhat difficult to retain our hat, was a perpetual remembrancer to us that we were no longer at its mercy, but that we could say, with a nod over the left shoulder to the assengers we had left behind, "inveni portum; ludite nunc alios." The land, on first leaving Bridlington, is not very fertile; but the whole country, thanks to the absence of stone, is intersected

with hedge-rows and young plantations, which give it a very rich and flourishing appearance. The villages we pass through seem all to be show places, rather than out-of-the-way Yorkshire hamlets. They are all beautifully whitewashed, and garnished from foundation to roof with flowers. A great proprietor in the neighbourhood, Sir Henry Boyton, has been particularly successful in beautifying his village. the modern lightness and prettiness of which contrasts admirably with the fine Elizabethan solemnity of the hall -a grand old building with an immense screen; and of which our Jehu told us the popular saying, that there were as many entrance doors in it as months, as many chimneys as weeks, and as many windows as days in the year -a pleasing piece of intelligence, we doubt not, to the Chancellor of the Exchequer. We recommend all writers of novels, especially those who, like the Marquis of Normanby, indulge in pictures of high life, and are in want of fitting names for their heroes, to post from Bridlington to York. On the commonest sign-posts are names that would electrify a drawing-room. No Smiths, or Whites, or Browns the least euphonious being such appellations as Dallinford, (cheesemonger,) Allanby, (grocer; and in the village of Bortown-hear it ye glimpsers into Almacks, and authoresses of Family Records!-Mark Normandale, licensed dealer in tea and tobacco.

From Driffield we proceeded sixteen miles further to Carraby Inn-the country characterized by the same features, though unluckily, as our driver had exchanged the coach-box for the saddle, we could pick up very little information about the various seats we passed. Carraby Inn itself, is one of the nicest retirements imaginable for some hermit who did not wish to be entirely out of the world, and yet to have solitude to his heart's content. Nothing could be pleasanter than the clean-sanded floor of the little room we were shown into, and a finished appearance of neatness and comfort pervaded the whole house. Some time or other we should like nothing better than to spend a week under the hospitable roof of John Kirby. We should like, also, to lay a wager that there is some good port

wine in the cellar, and some exquisite home-brewed, of which the manufacture was skilfully superintended by the game legged old gentleman himself. Twelve miles further, through a country thickening with the appearances of wealth, as befits the neighbourhood of a great city, conducted us into York, and landed us, tired and happy, at the George Hotel. Our sitting-room was about fifty feet long and twenty or twenty-five in breadth, with a floor so very uneven, and a ceiling so richly ornamented, that we fancied the inn, more fortunate than the knife-grinder, must have a story to tell. At one end of the room was an immense window, with some fine coloured glass still remaining in the upper portion. One whole pane, in very good preservation, contained the royal arms, with C. II. at

one

corner. Another contained a coat-of-arms richly coloured, with the Order of the Garter, and on a plain scroll at the foot, "Dieu est tout." The house, in reality, had belonged to many noble families; among others, being the property, at one time, of George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, whose blazon still ornamented the window. After that it got into the hands of the Wentworths, and about a hundred years ago, sank down into an inn, and a very comfortable inn we have found it. A curiously-arranged place it was; with the modern and the ancient so jostling each other, that a stalwarth man-at-arms, in buff jerkin and high boots, would not have been more out of keeping with the new part, than the dapper waiter-a very civil and intelligent man-with a white napkin over his arm, was with the deep oak panellings and heavy ornate roof. There were passages that led to nothing; and so many ups and downs that it might have stood for a stoneand-mortar allegory of human life; and it was with some surprise and great gratification, that we found we had reached our sleeping apartments without tumbling into some dungeon, or, at all events, breaking our shius against some stair.

In the morning we sallied forth, at eight o'clock, to see the Minster; which, as all people either have seen it, and remember it without a description, or ought to have seen it, and therefore don't deserve to have it described we shall pass over in silence,

as the noblest and stateliest example of Gothic cathedral architecture which the world contains: but, though we omit all notice of the building, we cannot avoid entering our protest against the admission into so sacred a place of so ludicrous and disgusting an epitaph as that to Lora Dawnay, Baroness Downe. Oh, Archbishop of York!—oh, Dean and Chapter, or whoever has the jurisdiction in such matters!-get the horrid tablet covered over. You have no notion how it shocks the feelings of awe and reverence that your longdrawn aisles and fretted vaults have produced, to read about a person who died at her house in such a street in London, which she lived in alternately with her other house in the country," and to be referred for an account of her merits to "the Gentleman's Magazine for August 1812." And this in the midst of tombs of saints and noblesbelted knights and mitred abbotswhose effigies are grey with the dust of seven hundred years! We are happy to say, however, that the epitaph, gross as it was, did not stick in our gizzard sufficiently to interfere with the swallowing of our breakfast. At eleven we were all comfortably seated in the railway coach to Darlington, and fizzed along the level at the rate of three-andtwenty miles an hour. It is difficult, while sitting in a well-built carriage, and moving so easily over the ground, to believe in the possibility of an accident; and yet it surely can't be that all those coroners and their juries who publish their proceedings every week are joking—or that they are all coach proprietors with a spite against steam, and bring in verdicts of fictitious deaths, and levy deodands on imaginary trains or do some persons, devoted to the old system, heroically sacrifice themselves for the benefit of all other horse-contractors, by flinging themselves off the train, while at full speed, with the intention thereby of bringing that mode of travelling into odium and disrepute ? These are puzzling questions, and whatever may be the answer, we can only say that, on the present occasion, we felt as safe as if we had been locked up in our own study; and a good deal more satisfied as to our position, than when we exchanged the steam coach at Darlington for the ancient four horse turn-out to Newcastle, The coach itself seemed old and crazy, and the harness in bad

numerable collieries are vomiting forth clouds of smoke-the very trees hav ing their green leaves begrimed with soot. At short intervals along the road are splendid houses-the mansions of the great proprietors-built of the finest stone, but blackened and dirtied by the murky atmosphere. Perhaps the smoke arising from these subterranean treasuries has some sweet savour in the nostrils of the owners, unknown to the olfactories of disinterested men; but to us, the vicinity of so many chimneys would be intolerable. The expense in soap must be prodigious. The landscape, naturally beautiful, is utterly ruined; and henceforward we shall always be of opinion that old King Coal is a decided enemy to the picturesque. But if this be the case in single houses, what must it be in a town? and of all the dingy, dirty, detestable towns in England or elsewhere, Newcastle-onTyne is decidedly the worst; and we may venture to add, without much fear of contradiction, that the most abominable inn in that abominable town, is the There were thirty different parties at tea, and only two waiters; the consequence was, we had all to turn waiters too, for an indefinite period, and at an immense sacrifice of time and temper. The rooms were dark and dirty; and there was a chambermaid who was so preternaturally ugly that she might have done for a portrait of nightmare. Fuseli never imagined any thing so diabolical after gorging himself on raw pork steaks; and to this hour we have some doubts whether the hideous being was not a fantasm of the brain, instead of a living and breathing native of Newcastle. There is, however, this abatement to her ugliness, that as beauty and ugli. ness, in spite of Lord Jeffrey, are rather relative than positive, she is perhaps thought a very tolerable young woman in her native place-for the streets were thronged with the most illfavoured population we ever encountered-cripples, dwarfs, and drunkards. The number of spirit-shops is, indeed, amazing, and they seemed all in full trade; men tolerably well dressed were staggering about completely drunkthis was about seven o'clock in the evening-and women were crowding into the gin shops-a fearful sight. We have passed two or three times through Birmingham, and never saw

condition. The driver also did not seem so skilful a charioteer as became his calling. He was a heavy Yorkshireman, who was more knowing about other things than the driving of horses; and the consequence was, that while we picked up information about pits and collieries, we were very nearly upset. Going down the hill into Durbam, the pole chain slipped, and it was almost impossible to stop the ponderous vehicle. Luckily the horses were very quiet, and came to a stand-still within an inch or two of a high wall on the left hand side, the proximity of which so alarmed one of the outside passengers, that he threw himself off the coach on to the bank beyond the wall; but on finding all right he looked very sheepish, and stepped back again to his seat. Durham itself is the most breakneck of cities, and we congratulated ourselves no little, when, after. threading its slippery streets, and crossing its narrow bridge, we found ourselves once more on the broad mac. adamized road. The coachman seemed also to be in high spirits after the perils of the journey, and endeavoured to amuse us with a variety of stories, of which Irishmen were always the heroes. How curious that a Yorkshireman, with a brogue as broad as Tyke's, should try to imitate the real Tipperary accent, making of the two so absurd a compound, that it was impossible to listen to him without being amused, though, at the same time, we confess we found it almost impossible to understand him! One of his stories was the old one about the Irishman driving a pig, who was asked by his friend, "Wheer be ye a-gowing to?" "Ush! Harrar-says he-Oi be agowin' to Limbrick; but don't say nuffin, Pat, for he thinks he be a gowin' to Dubling." Such was the Yorko-Hibernian version. Another was an incident that happened in his own hearing. A gentleman on the coach at one of the stopping-places in Gateshead, asked a hodman if he could direct him to the sign of the Sun in Newcastle. The fellow looked sorely puzzled for some time, and then said, "Faith, and I don't know of any other Sun in Newcastle except the Half moon over the way-and sure enough sir, the Half-moon public-house was just across the street." The whole of the drive from Durham to Newcastle is through smut and coal-dust. In