four or five thousand soldiers busily repairing
damage, and sent a letter off (which was not
answered) to know, first why the heads were
not yet taken down from the poles upon the
beach; and second, whether the report was
true, they had been torturing an English
sailor. The authorities deigned no reply,
but it turned out afterwards that the " heads"
were wisps of straw, which it is usual to hang
on poles about spots which strangers are
forbidden to approach; the custom being called
"kiady."

The attack upon Tamatave warmed the good
people of Bourbon to the point of sending a
petition home to Louis Philippe, for the
forcible colonisation of Madagascar. Upon
subjects of colonisation, however, M. Guizot
is a wiser man than many of his countrymen.
Before that time, several little ideas had been
carried out subsidiary to the grand idea of a
new Algeria. In case of war, it was thought
that a French Madagascar secured the ruin of
all our possessions in the East; it was a
barricade on the high road to India. Soon
after the accession of Queen Ranavalona, an
expedition, under one M. Goubeyer, planned
in France, took forcible possession of Tamatave,
destroyed the then existing fort, and
slaughtered many natives. Sailing afterwards
to Foule Pointe, the adventurers were
ignominiously repulsed; the next day they
bombarded the fort of Pointe à Lanée, and then
sailed away. In 1840, rumours of war in
Europe caused M. Thiers to prepare for a
pounce upon this Eastern barricade; orders
were therefore sent to the effect that France
should take possession of Nos Beh, an islet,
as large as St. Mary's, off the north-west
coast. Nos Beh, therefore, by the name of
Nosibé, became a French possession. From
Nosibé, there sailed in the next year a French
man-of-war, to secure another little bit of
vantage ground for future operations upon
Madagascar. Between the African continent
and the northern part of Madagascar, there
lies in the extremity of the Mozambique
Channel the little group of Comoro Isles.
The island of this group nearest to Nosibé,
Mayotta, was occupied by France in 1841;
obtained quietly for that nation by a little
diplomatic cleverness. Before the momentous
events of 1848, Madagascar was exciting in
France some little attention, and there were
men who talked of the political advantage to
be gained by holding it as a French colony.
A minister, less sagacious than M. Guizot,
might have done something rash. The course
of events among us Europeans, since the
beginning of 1848, has kept us tolerably busy
with our own affairs, and we have quite lost
sight of Madagascar. What a misfortune it
must be for the poor, neglected, savages, that
there are none of our colonial conjurers
engaged in the attempt to make them civilised
by sleight of hand; the more especially as the
chief obstacle to such manoeuvres has been
recently removed. The illustrious widow of
king Radama has joined him in the grave.
Her Majesty, it seems, balanced her hatred of
English men by her love for English gin, and
fell a victim to her devotion.

THE GREAT PEACE-MAKER.

A SUB-MARINE DIALOGUE.

"SLUMBROUS immensity that knows no bounds,
Since my great depths are hidden, from myself,
And hoary age, uncounted by the links
Of man's brief generations, these are mine,
Alone of earth's prime elements; and thus,
In contemplation of the moving spheres
That shine upon my bosom, I repose,
Murmuring of ancient Gods and Phantoms pale,
Primordial rulers of the elder world—
Majestical Annihilations, now."

While thus in solemn monologue, the Sea
Brooded on twilight times, there slowly rose
A crest that wore a pallid diadem
Above two cave-like eyes, that, seeming blind,
Shot ever and anon a lightning ray
From out the darkness—piercing the far space—
Then all again in darkness. A Form appeared,
Of length voluminous, like the swarthy train
Of some stupendous serpent, wise and old,
Which rolled its coils with measured energy,
And noiseless as a shadow o'er the grass,
Unto the brink of the impending cliff,
And, with its head outstretched, peer'd gravely
down,
Scanning the wonders of the heaving main.

Again the Sea in cavernous murmurs spake:—
"What freights and hopes my fierce uplifting
storms
Have scattered into spots of drifting foam,
Oh Memory forbear to chonicle,
For I have borne a large allotted share
In old Destruction's work, and fain would sink
Within myself, no more to make response
To winds, or thunders, or the voice of Death,
But sweep into a silence and a dream,
Listening the hush of mine eternity."

The Serpent-form that o'er the beetling cliff
Peered down with earnest speculative head,
Lower and lower, now in slow descent
Glode softly, while the volumed train that lay
Athwart the fields above, moved, as it seemed,
By fitful glancing lights that urged it on:
Meantime the Sea still held its solemn theme

"But rest unbroken and immortal calm
Are not for me; my destiny involves
Tempest and shipwreck and the waste of life,
With terror and despair for those at home.
I am the element whom none profane
By social teachings and a useful aim,
Sacred alike from consort with mankind,
And man's domestic vassals, Earth and Fire,
Which do his bidding constantly, and live
Subdued beside him by a master-hand,
Which puts them to all services and ends."

Now, while the Sea held commune with itself,
Softly the Telegraphic coil unwound;
And, fold by fold, moved gliding down the cliff,
And underneath the waves. The bottom reached
Onward it swerved with undulating line,