declaration, a friend of Rolfe handed his letter to Sir Thomas Dale. He read it, probably laughed heartily, and, at once giving up his plan of laying waste the Indian Territory, took Pokahontas back to Jamestown, where she was soon afterwards married to Rolfe.

These are all the known facts thus far in the life of Pokahontas, who proceeded to live "civilly and lovingly" with her husband, bore him a son, "whom she loved dearly," and, two or three years afterwards, accompanied Sir Thomas Dale to England. On the face of this array of commonplace incidents, there is nothing to support the hypothesis of any attachment to Smith beyond mere friendship; but soon after her arrival in England, a single incident in addition again supported the theory, and gave, indeed, a very strong warrant for it.

As soon as the ship containing Pokahontas, her husband and child reached Plymouth, intelligence of her arrival was carried to London, and the event aroused general interest. It was known that she was a princess, and the first Indian that had married an Englishman. There was then a mild sensation that soon grew very strong. Smith was the occasion of this. Hearing of the arrival of Pokahontas, he wrote an eloquent and glowing letter to the Queen, described the scenes in which she had preserved his life on two different occasions, and declared that, “during the time of two or three years, she, next under God, was still the instrument to preserve this colony from death, famine, and utter confusion." The letter attracted the attention of the court to Pokahontas, who speedily became the fashion, and was visited by the nobility near London; but it was only when he was about to set sail for New England that Smith, who was in London, went to see her.

A brief account of what took place in this interview remains, and seems to support the original view of the feelings of Pokahontas. At sight of Smith she covered her face with her hands, and for a long time remained entirely silent. They then conversed with each other in private, and among other things she

said: "They did always tell me you were dead, and I knew no other till I came to Plymouth." This statement leaves no doubt at least of one fact, that some person or persons in Virginia, as far back as 1613, when she was carried a prisoner to Jamestown had informed her that Smith was dead. As she remained under that conviction until her arrival in England in 1616, she accepted the attentions of Rolfe, and married him believing Smith dead; and her union with Rolfe, therefore, is reconcilable with her previous attachment to the soldier.

Their interview seems to have been brief, and one of passionate feeling, full of reproaches and tears on the part of Pokahontas, and apparently of a vague embarrassment on the part of Smith. It is not difficult to understand why he should have experienced some embarrassment. There is nothing to indicate that his attachment for her exceeded that of a grateful friend. She had preserved his life, and he sincerely admired her courage and devotion, but that was all. His life in Virginia had been stormy and anxious; he had no leisure for sentiment or romance.

But it seems that the case had been very different with the Indian girl dreaming in the York woods. There is no unanswerable testimony that such was the fact, but all the indications support the hypothesis; and her marriage to another person does not contradict it, since she believed Smith to be dead. The interview at Brentford seems to have been their first and last in England. Smith sailed on one of his voyages, and in the ensuing March Pokahontas died, making "a pious and Godly end," just as she was about to sail for Virginia with her husband and child. It may interest some readers to know that this child became a gentleman of note, and that eminent persons in Virginia have descended from him, among them John Randolph of Roanoke.

IN THE ADIRONDACKS. NATURE'S charms of mountain, lake and forest are so lavishly outspread throughout the extent of the wild Adi

rondack region, that there is but one way of obtaining adequate impressions of it; and that is, to take it bit by bit.

The most luxuriant and varied scenery lies about the Blue Mountain and Raquette Lakes. These are two connected sheets of water, lying on the southwestern borders of the great hill country, but still quite within the limits of the "forest primeval." New Yorkers reach them by going up the Hudson to Saratoga, branching off north by west on the Adirondack Railway to North Creek, whence a thirty-five-mile ride on the springy buckboard, or by old-fashioned coach, brings them to Blue Mountain Lake. Here are three or four hotels, including that mammoth mountain caravansary, the Prospect House. The mountain is three thousand eight hundred and twenty-four feet high, and the lake has an altitude of nearly two thousand feet. There is scarcely a lovelier bit of water amongst all the Adirondack Trosachs.

This is a great place for beginning the regulation mountain journey. You hire a guide, with his Adirondack boat-the latter weighing about seventy pounds, and wonderfully capacious for its “heft.” This is an important consideration; for there are "carries" along the route, where you have to take up boat, baggage and all, and walk. The guide is also a philosopher and friend, a born sportsman, and an accomplished cook. It is he who makes mountain travel a pastime, and camp life a luxury. He conducts you, say, from Blue Mountain Lake westward through an erratic waterway,

which now widens out into Eagle Lake and Utowana Lake, and now dwindles away to nothing, compelling you to lug your belongings overland for half a mile to the marshy Marion, which enters Raquette Lake from the east.

Raquette Lake is a bewildering and enchanting aggregation of bays, islands, straits and wooded points. Be your object hunting, fishing, sightseeing or idling, you may safely set up your camp on the Raquette's indented shores. There are hotels here, Bennett's and others; but camps are its specialty. The woods are full of them. The more pretentious of these camps, such as Hathorn's, Echo, Pine Knot, The Cedars, Fair View, The Antlers, Teneyck's, and Hasbrouck's, are astonishing combinations of urban elegance with the freedom and unconventionality of the forest. Pianos and pine knots, Turkish rugs and cedar boughs, spring mattresses and pine logs, campfires and French cuisine, all contribute towards making life in the woods an idyllic delight. The average Adirondack camp, however, is a much more primitive affair-sometimes a log "lean-to;" sometimes a bark-thatched "open" camp, with a deep, odorous carpet of pine and cedar boughs. But it has just as much fresh air, clear water, bright sunshine and balsamic fragrance as the proudest of its neighbors-and these are what the tourist comes to the Adirondacks chiefly to find.

A profane upstart-The man who sat on a bent pin.

THERE is one science which is within the grasp of every mind, and which, to be successfully cultivated, requires no preparation, and furnishes an admirable resource for those who have a taste for the observation of natural phenomena. It is what we may call the science of rain and fine weather, but which now receives the higher title of meteorology. The barometer, the thermometer, and

the vane, are the simple instruments it employs; its field of observation is the terrestrial atmosphere, the regular movements and perturbations of which it analyses.

This practical part of the science is not to be despised; for though the explanations are often untrue, the facts which form the basis are generally certain. The red moon, for instance, does

not merit all the blame that is laid upon it, but the period of the year when it appears is very dangerous for young shoots, too often frosted by the cold night. It is especially in mountainous countries, where the weather is uncertain, and changes with great rapidity, that this local knowledge of climates is most to be appreciated. In the Alps, travelers may trust almost blindly to those excellent guides whose prudence is admirable; if a storm imprison you in some lonely châlet, the guide goes from time to time to sniff the air at the door, to look at the different quarters of the horizon, and when he gives the signal for departure, you may set off without fear. The way in which the fog climbs the side of the mountain, the height which it reaches, the point where it accumulates, give him valuable indications. The sailors possess a similar science; they know the threatening signs of a storm, the menacing aspect of the sky, the clouds accumulated in dark heavy masses, the color of the waves, the particular form of foam-like crests which float over the blue water, the indented appearance of the horizon indicating an angry and agitated sea.

wise observer will not flatter himself that he can predict cold summers, warm winters, or any remarkable perturbations; that would be to speculate too largely on the credulity of the public. It is only for a short time beforehand that this can be done, and when, by long observation, a perfect knowledge of the climate has been acquired. By watching whence the wind blows, it is possible, with much confidence, to announce what will be the next variation, and deduce from it the change likely to ensue in the weather. This is as much as to say that the law of the wind is not arbitrary, but submissive to a general law.

There is a curious fact connected with the direction of the wind, which is not generally known. A wind blowing from the east may in reality be a west wind drawn out of its course. Let us explain. The researches of the clever German, Herr Dove, have laid down a law of the rotation of winds. The air participates in the rotatory movement of the earth round its axis; nothing at the pole, this movement attains more and more rapidity as it reaches the equator. When, from any particular cause, a mass of air is driven towards the equator, it arrives at a region where the rapidity of the earth's motion is greater than its own; the result is, that the polar current advances more slowly to the east than those parts of the earth which are beneath it, and it appears to an observer on the earth to move from east to west. Thus, it will be understood that all winds coming from the north pole are, in consequence of our planet's motion, deviated from the direct line towards the

ment of animal and vegetable life. The change of a fraction of a degree in the mean temperature, would be a decree of death to thousands of animated beings, and the invalid is obliged to go from climate to climate, in search of one which can mitigate his sufferings.

Besides consulting the barometer, we need to know the direction of the wind and the general state of the sky. These elements are most important in appreciating the changes that are coming. A

winds. If the current be equatorial, and moves upwards to the north, as it penetrates into latitudes where the movement of the earth lessens, it, preserving its first rapidity, veers more quickly towards the east than the parts of the land over which it blows, thus making the wind appear westerly.

All aerial currents originate in a difference of temperature in various parts of the atmosphere. Take an island, for example: the surface of the earth is

more quickly heated than the water; the air above the former growing lighter and lighter, will rise higher, and be replaced by that of the surrounding sea, which is commonly called the sea-breeze. At night, the inverse phenomena take place -the island cools more quickly than the sea, and the land-breeze sets in. This may be taken on a larger scale in the great terrestrial masses of the Asiatic continent, and the Indian Ocean, which surrounds it; the sea and land breezes then become what sailors call the monsoons, winds which blow during one part of the year, from the burning lands of the interior, and in an opposite direction during the other. Then take the whole world, and it may be understood why the planet being always heated under the tropics, and frozen at the poles, two fundamental and permanent currents are established, blowing in opposite directions. About the equator these are distinctly separated, lying superimposed without mingling; the lower forming the trade-winds, which are so constant and favorable to navigation. In our zone, the hot and cold winds are in continual conflict, and it is owing to this perpetual opposition that the extreme variableness of our climate is partly due.

This successive predominance of the winds determines the most general peculiarities of our climate. The north and north-west winds come from the pole, the air is cold, and consequently heavy; the barometer rises; the air it meets is charged with heat and damp, the north wind grows warmer, and takes possession of the watery vapor, carrying away and dissolving the clouds. In winter, this wind brings a clear, cold season; in summer, it also clears the sky, and moderates the heat. In winter, the polar wind has a westerly tendency; in summer, more easterly; and in our part of Europe, the latter reaches us in a dry state, having swept the vast regions of the north of Asia, the Ural mountains, and Russia.

The equatorial current reaches England from the south-west; it has passed over the liquid plain of the Atlantic

Ocean, and is charged with an immense quantity of vapor. The warmth and damp make the barometer fall; penetrating into a cold country, the vapor is condensed-in winter, causing rain or snow; in summer, rain; and the weather becomes mild, because the many layers of cloud intercept the sun's rays like a screen. If the south-west wind continues to blow, the air recovers its usual temperature, the clouds disperse, the sky is clear, and soon the overpowering heat begins which prepare the storms. It is to the equatorial current that Ireland owes the beautiful vegetation which has caused it to be named "Green Erin." The predominance of these winds will also explain why ships can come more rapidly from the United States to England, than the opposite way.

The tempests which arise in the temperate zones are much less important and irregular than those which find their cradle in the tropics. They are apparently owing to the meeting of the polar and equatorial currents, which, instead of crossing or lying in parallel strata above each other, meet directly in front. When one of these masses refuses a passage to the other, it produces a great accumulation of air, and the barometer rises very rapidly. Sadly deceived will he be who, trusting to the barometrical scale, should prophecy a fine season; a frightful storm will soon show the fallacy of his predictions.

Another remarkable law as regards winds has to be kept in mind. Often in the case of storms, the wind, or it may be hurricane, sweeps round in a circle. It may not appear to do so, because the circle is perhaps very broad. The current, however, is a kind of whirlwind. Thus the wind reported as driving from west to east at the British Channel, may be the same wind which is said to be blowing in a contrary direction in a northern latitude. Hence the great value of meteorological stations, from which notices may be sent as warnings to the navigator.

By the teachings which it affords,meteorology furnishes immense assistance to the marine service; every year, the num