PASSAGE OF THE STRAITS OF GIBRALTAR. A FEW LEAVES FROM THE LOG BOOK OF A VOYAGEUR. BY C. EDWARDS LESTER. After tossing about five weary weeks on the ocean, and longing, day after day, once more to see the waving trees and the green earth, we were waked yesterday morning, by the joyful cry of "land ahead!" which rang merrily from the mast-head to the cabin below. We dressed ourselves "wi' right gude will," and hastened on deck, to unite in the general jubilee held on board every vessel, when, after a long voyage, she makes the main land. Our noble ship, which had outrode the storms, and borne us safely over that vast ocean which now rolls between us and our sweet homes, seemed herself to partake of the general gladness; and under a fresh breeze from the bold Spanish coast, which lifted its rugged bluffs over the sea, with all her canvas swelling to the wind, she dashed the bright waters from her bow as she ploughed her path up to the Straits. On our left lay the scene of Nelson's great victory of Trafalgar, where that illustrious Captain died in the midst of his triumph putting the finishing stroke to the power of England, who was already "mistress of the seas." It was yet early morning, but on our bow we could distinctly see the rugged mountains of two continents rising, black, jagged from the sea, almost locking their giant arms, as though they had been burst asunder by some terrible convulsion, leaving a narrow space of less than twelve miles for the world's commerce in all ages to pass. Long before the sun rose, we could see his herald light kindled on those bald mountains, as though their tops had been lit up with beacon fires. As morning came on, and the clouds rolled off, we saw the entire outline of the European and African coasts, with their bold projecting headlands and lofty mountains, rising peak above peak, far into the main land-the coasts approaching each other at the Straits like the sides of a triangle-seeming like the fabled giants of antiquity, marching up on either side for battle. While we stood on the bow, gazing, with a feeling never before awakened, upon this grand scene so new to us, and so rich in our recollections of the Ancient World, midway between "the Pillars of Hercules," the glorious sun, "Like God's own head," rose up from the calm waters of the Mediterranean, casting a flood of light upon an ocean, a sea, and the mountains of two continents. As we sailed on, we saw more and more clearly the little villages along the margin of the sea on the Spanish coast, and in the background green vineyards, with tiny peasant cottages scattered among them, rising in sweet terraces far up the hills; while on the African side the bald mountains frowned down on us without a tree or shrub or green thing, from the dark-fronted cliffs that beetled over the sea, to the sharp peaks in the distance covered with snow, but still all in a sublimity of grouping I never saw equalled. We all felt it an era worth remembering. and time-worn walls disclose the history of the past, what tales of reckless daring, of wild ambition and of deadly strife, might they not unfold! The walls along the water-side and the whole surface of the mountain around, are bristling with cannon, while others in long dark rows are looking out from galleries which have been blasted from the solid rock one thousand feet above the level of the sea. The excavations made by the British in the northern end of the Rock are equalled by few labors of ancient or modern times. A passage of half a mile in length and eight or ten feet square is blasted through the solid rock. It is about thirty feet from the outer surface, and at a short distance from each other are side-cuts, with chambers, where are from one to six guns with large piles of cannon balls near them. The main passage communicates, by means of spiral staircases through the large halls, with other galleries above and below. There are also vast magazines, filled with the munitions of war. It is computed that these excavations, will con I never conceived an idea of such impregnable strength from any other fortification. You know we are apt to be disappointed when we see objects and places which have been often described by the enthusiasm of travellers, but it was not so in this case. For I think had I never seen or heard of Gibraltar before, my impressions of it would have been the same. This vast Rock is almost a complete island, since it is united with the main land only by a narrow strip of low sandy beach, which is But we waited with deeper interest to catch the first sight of the Rock of Gibraltar, and when we saw this impregnable fortress, which has played so grand and gloomy a part in the world's history, we felt compensated for our long voyage. There it stood, a huge rock, rearing itself fifteen hundred feet above the sea, as it stood ages ago, when washed by the waves of the deluge. It has looked down on empires lost and won, and felt the shock of navies in battle-it has been scathed by the lightnings of heaven, but it has itself remained unchanged. But a word of description: "The Rock of Gibraltar is fourteen hundred and seventy feet high, and is composed of grey limestone, divided by perpendicular fissures, filled with calcareous concretions, containing an immense quantity of bones and shells. Many of the former belong to different sorts of deer, none of which are at present found in Europe. The town of Gibraltar lies near the northern extrem-tain fifteen thousand men !” ity of the Rock. Next, south of this, are the parade ground and public garden, and still farther south is Point Europa, where many of the officers of the garrison reside, and having more the appearance of an English than a Spanish town. The western declivity of the Rock is mostly covered with loose broken fragments of limestone, among which herds of goats clamber about, feeding on the numerous wild shrubs and plants which grow there. The eastern side, which descends to the Mediterranean, and the southern end, are mostly precip-undermined the whole distance, and can at a itous cliffs. The northern extremity is a lofty perpendicular wall, while the summit of the Rock, along its whole extent, is a sharp waving ridge, higher at each end than in the middle. This outline of the summit has been compared in form to a bull-the northern bluff being taken for the towering neck and head, with which, as if in fighting attitude, this giant monster bids defiance to the world. On the side of the Rock, just above the town, is an old Moorish castle, which for a thousand years has We sailed by the Rock under a gentle breeze withstood the warring of the elements and the from the west, and by three o'clock we had shock of arms, and may yet for centuries to left the Straits behind us. We hoped to have come, look down upon the changing and event-heard the morning or evening gun from Gibralful scenes in the drama of empires lost and won which shall be enacted there. What a strange and varied succession of kings and heroes had in ages past contended unto death to gain possession of that ancient tower, or to repel invading foes! And could these battered moment's notice be blown into the air, thus cutting off all communication with the continent. So completely guarded is every point— so impossible to conquer is Gibraltar. And here "That power whose flag is never furled, Whose morning drum beats round the world," has planted her Lion and flung out her Unicorn in defiance to the world. tar, but we knew we should be too far from the Rock at sundown. But while we were mourning over our disappointment, and gazing on the Rock in the distance, we saw the white smoke slowly curling up its sides, and in a few moments the thunder of cannon came booming On our left rose the lofty snow-capped mountains of Granada, bringing back memories of the old tales we had read in childhood of Moorish and Christian valor; on our right the low sandy coast of Africa stretched away, telling its mournful story, seeming to send its deep wail of lamentation over the sea, like Rachel mourning for her lost children, and would not be comforted because they were not. Our ship was cleaving the same waters which had long ago washed the thrones of Egypt, with her Pyramids Carthage with her Hannibal-Granada with her chieftains-Rome with her mailed heroes-Greece with her poets, and Judah with her Holy City-while all around us on the soft air the spirit of the classic world breathed. How often on my youthful fancy, like a lovely vision in dreams, had this night come! How many times, long ago, when on some quiet autumn day, I have laid me down on the sunny slope of a hill, under the falling yellow maple leaves, and read the story of Æneas and Dido, or the wondrous tales of the bold knights of Spain, and dreamed I should one day sail over these tideless waters, and then wept to think it would be but a dream! But this glorious night, which had so often seemed worth a whole life besides, had at last come. mellow sky of the Mediterranean was bending The over us, with all its stars-the silver sheen of the moon was spread along the sleeping waters-all around on the still air I heard voices from the olden time. We were sailing on the same sea where had sailed the Rubicon Cæsar, with his mailed cohorts-Hannibal, with his invincible legions-Paul, with his new Faith— Peter the Hermit, with his wild crusaders—the young Corsican soldier, on his way to his Imperial Throne, and Columbus, on his bold path to a New World. This morning we all rose early, to catch the first view of Italy. There lay Genoa, "la Superba," white and quiet in the bosom of the mountains. At the distance of fifteen or twenty miles, and in the indistinct light of the early morning, only its main outlines could be distinguished. But as we slowly rode up the gulf, and the sun came over the Appenines, the scene began to brighten. On our left lay the snowy-topped, distant Alps, glittering like silver in the growing light of morning, and the gray mountains around us freshened into verdure. Either shore as it curled up to the city was lined with quiet villages, clustering as they advanced, till, like two streams, they seemed to pour themselves into the bosom of the "city of palaces." The town follows the outline of the shore, which is semi-circular, and rises in the form of an ampitheatre on the hills behind. As we drew nearer, the scene changed every moment. Palaces started up before us-terraced gardens rose above terraced gardens— mountain enfolded mountain, crowned with fortresses and convents in almost endless perspective, till the whole waving outline grew indistinct on the northern sky. Under a light breeze, so soft and gentle that it broke the calm of the silver waters only at intervals, we floated slowly up the bay, and a little after noon dropped our anchor inside the mole of the harbor of Genoa. While we were sitting on deck waiting for the health officers to come on board, and making up our minds how well we should like our new home, the breeze came down from the gardens and vineyards of the city, LITERALLY LOADED WITH FRAGRANCE. This seemed like "the dream-land." THE STANBROOKS, OR, THE MYSTERIOUS WILL. A TALE OF NEW YORK FASHIONABLE LIFE, TEN YEARS AGO. CHAPTER I. SARATOGA. "A chiel's amang us, taking notes, And faith he'll prent 'em." BY FAIRY FAY. "Well, of all dull places, commend me to Saratoga!" exclaimed Mr. Augustus Beaumont-stretching out one leg, then the other, and yawning in the most fashionable manner. "Nothing but eating, drinking and swallowing mineral poisons in large doses all day long! Bah! we have not even a flirtation to drive away ennui. Fred!" turning to a gentleman at the opposite end of the room, who was busily engaged in reading-" Fred, why on earth do you keep all the newspaper to yourself. Pray, is there not a horrible accident,' or a 'terrible murder' to amuse one with? Do let's have something. Oh, don't hand me the paper; it's too great a bore to read one's self. Any news ?" "The Great Britain has arrived." with an offended air; changed the position of his graceful limbs, and looking daggers at his presumptuous friend, demanded whether he meant anything personal by that remark. "Oh, most assuredly," replied Howard, "that is if you choose to take it so. Do you remember the answer of the Irishman who deeming himself insulted by some inadvertent remark, demanded if the speaker was serious? 'I am,' he replied. Then I am glad to hear it,' said the Irishman, 'for I will not take a joke from any body." Mr. Augustus Beaumont recrossed his legs, hummed an opera tune, and moved his chair toward the window. A moment after, he started up with an exclamation of surprise and delight "Colonel Stanbrook and his two neices, as I'm a sinner! and there is the beautiful Laura lifting her blue eyes to our window, while the heiress bends her queenly head in answer to the salutation of some of her adorers, as the carriage dashes through the avenue. Why, what lucky fellows we are, Fred; all alone here, and the field to ourselves. They must be here for the season, and away from New-York fortune hunters, we have the game in our own hands. Fred! I say; one would think your "Still less interest in that—never having had property there, save three vacant lots, which my good creditors took a fancy to long time ago." "Fanny Ellsler has taken a farewell benefit whole existence depended upon that telegraph at the Park." "And it will be a greater benefit to the country when she takes her farewell of that. What right have the fascinating foreigners to come here and gull us out of our money, as well as run away with our hearts ?” of news and scandal." The noise of approaching wheels-the loud shouts of postilions—the clamor in the hall, and the mingling of several voices, compelled Howard to lay aside his newspaper, and rise for the purpose of ascertaining the cause for this sudden tumult. A splendid "Hearts!" exclaimed Frederick Howard, private carriage stood before the door, in which glancing over the paper at the lounging exqui- was seated an elderly gentleman and three lasite. "Pray, Gus, can you tell me the com- dies. The door was soon opened by the obsepound ingredients of a dandy's heart? It quious footman, and the gentleman held out never entered my imagination that one of that his hand to assist his fair companions. First species presumed to boast of such a commo- appeared a young lady dressed in the extreme dity." of fashion. An elegant riding-dress of black Mr. Augustus Beaumont pulled up his collar velvet, relieved at the throat by a French dollars and cents, to balance the numerous attractions of yonder petite-well, I never!" "But who and what is she? you have roused my curiosity." collar, displayed her tall form to advantage, and a rich white silk hat with a demi veil of Dresden lace and ornamented with a superb bunch of French flowers, sat lightly upon her commanding brow. She had bold features, dark, "Who she is, except a dependant orphan, I flashing eyes, and an air which bespoke her at cannot tell, and what she is you must ascertain once as a favorite of fortune. A smile, half of for yourself. She is called a muse-a gracecondescension, and half of scorn played around a vision-a creature of enthusiasm one moher haughty lip, as she returned the low bowment, and the next quiet, sedate, thoughtful of Beaumont, and then stood twirling a sun- as a hermit. A being shade in her hand while awaiting the descent of her companions. "Is she not a superb creature ?" exclaimed the beau, as Howard joined him at the window. "Quite a noble air, and withal graceful and dignified; pray who is she?" "Cornelia Stanbrook, the reputed heiress of three estates, and the leader of ton among the New-York aristocracy." "New-York arist coracy! Pray, define that term," said Howard. 'Why, you do not presume to intimate that we have no established aristocracy in NewYork!" exclaimed Mr. Augustus Beaumont, in profound astonishment. Howard smiled at the earnestness with which this remark was made; but possessing too much good sense to attempt arguing the point at that moment with his volatile companion, changed the subject by inquiring why he used the term reputed heiress, in reference to Miss Stanbrook. "Because the different suitors to the fair sisters for there are two of them-have not yet determined which is the heiress. I have been informed that the young ladies are themselves ignorant which deserves the title. I have settled the matter in my own mind, for no one could view them together without remarking the decided superiority of Cornelia; though Laura is pretty, vastly pretty-yet without possessing the Je ne sais quoi, which is essential to the first position in fashionable society." Howard again smiled at the term fashionable society-but without any comment upon the words, inquired the name of a sylph-like fairy creature who was just stepping from the carriage at the door. "Angels and ministers of the-Muses, defend us!" exclaimed Beaumont, levelling his eye-glass. "If there is not the "The what?" Mr. Beaumont answered only by a succession of exclamations: 66 To think of the belle bringing such a rival as that! She will have to make out a schedule of her possessions in "Of passionate visions-quick, light and shade." "If she rouses even you into quoting poetry, she must be a character worth studying. How provoking that she will not allow us to catch a glimpse of her face. How I hate those thick green veils-they are very annoying!" "You will find the wearer still more annoying," observed Beaumont, biting his cane with vexation, and speaking as if he had received some provocation from the subject of his criticism. "But look there, Fred, and talk of angels! There comes the last, but by no means least, of the new visitors. Look there, and barricade your sensitive heart; only let me whisper one caution-she is a portionless beauty.” Howard did look-and he thought that portionless or not, she was the most celestial creature he had ever gazed upon. Her eyes of deep, dark blue, shaded by long drooping lashes, were raised one moment to the window, and then fell instantly, as she observed the admiring looks of the gentlemen; while a blush, like the delicate tint of an ocean shell, suffused a cheek fairer than the lily. Her half parted lips displayed a row of pearly teeth, and her voice, as she addressed her companions, was melody itself. Her age appeared hardly seventeen, and there was a modesty, an ethereal purity and innocence floating like a veil around her, denoting a heart uncontaminated by the follies and absurdities of what Beaumont called fashionable society. Howard gazed, with his whole soul in his eyes, until her light form disappeared from the door. "I see I need not eulogize Laura," remarked Beaumont, as he saw the rapt attention of his friend. "What would you give now for an introduction ?" "An introduction! Do you know them?" "To be sure-every one." "Then you will present me !" "To which-the Muse-the beauty-or the heiress?" "To all," said Howard, eagerly. "Humph! variety is charming; and you will |