BIRMESE KIOUM, OR ROYAL CONVENT. THE BIRMAN EMPIRE, or eastern pertinsula of India, is only separated from the territories of the British East India Company, by a narrow chain of mountams, but our intercourse with the inhabitants is so limited, that but little is known of them. Their religion is, in some respects, the same as that of the Hindoos; they worship an image of Gaudma, who is said to have been a philosopher. The rhakaans, or priests, are a kind of monks, who live in cloisters, or Kioums, which are also Schools, where the children of nobles and peasants are educated gratis, and without any distinction of rank. The KIOUMS are supported by pillars, and open on all sides, no private apartments being allowed; the interior of the building forms one large hall.

The engraving represents one of these buildings, which was visited by Colonel Symes; it was distinguished by the title of " Kioumdogee," or Royal Convent, and was, he says, "an edifice not less extraordinary from the style of its architecture, than magnificent from its ornaments, and from the gold that was profusely bestowed on every part. It was composed entirely of wood, and the roofs, rising one above another, in five distinct stories, diminished in size as they advanced in height, each roof being surrounded by a cornice, curiously carved and richly gilded. The body of the building, elevated twelve feet from the ground, was supported on large timbers driven into the earth, after the manner of piles, of which there were, probably, one hundred and fifty, to sustain the immense weight of the superstructure. On ascending the stairs, we were not less pleased than surprised, at the splendid appearance which the inside displayed; a gilded balustrade, fantastically carved, encompassed the outside of the platform. Within this, there was a wide gallery entirely round the building. An inner railing opened into a noble hall, supported by colonnades of lofty pillars, the centre row at least fifty feet high, and gilded from the top to within four feet of the base, which was lackered red. In the middle of the hall, was a gilded partition of open latticed work, in the centre of which, was a marble image of Gaudma, gilded, and sitting on a golden throne; and in front of the idol, leaning against a pillar, we saw the seredaw, or high-priest, sitting on a satin-carpet, and surrounded by a circle of priests, who kept their bodies bent in an attitude of respect, with their hands joined in a supplicating manner, as is the Indian custom in addressing a superior,"

CLOTHING CLUBS.

As all measures which encourage the poor in provident habits, and direct the rich how to bestow their charity, so as to produce the most moral effect, ought to be made known; the CLOTHING CLUBS now becoming frequent even in small parishes, are well worth notice. The general plan is, for each poor family to pay Is., or single person or child, 9d. or 6d., or other small sum, each week or month, to which, at the end of the year, is added the sum of benefactions given to the fund by charitable persons, and the two sums together, are divided to each poor contributor in proportion, in such necessary articles as they choose. So that for 12s. subscribed, they get the worth of 24s., or 21s., more or less, according to the amount of charitable contributions. The rich do much more good by encouraging these clubs, than by indiscriminate gifts of clothes at certain seasons, when what is not wanted is received, and what is given is often sold again.

The following is a recent statement of one of the best managed Clothing Clubs, which has been long

14 ditto of velveteen, at 1s. 9d. ditto 88 ditto of corduroy, at 1s. 4d. ditto 9 ditto of fustian, at 1s. 9d. ditto... 15 ditto for trousers, at 6d. ditto 7 ditto of Russia duck, at 9d. ditto 102) ditto of stuff, at 7d. ditto 124 ditto of blue print, at 9d. ditto 71 ditto of ditto, at 7d. ditto. 12 ditto of ditto, at 6d. ditto

11 12 6

1 0 0

11 17 61 8 16 0 4 14 11 1 8 0

056

5 10 0

1 7

9 1

0 11

146 5 17 8 0 15 9

7 6 0 5

2 19 9 4 13 4

The amount of individual contributions varied from 1s, to 5. ** These added sums are from subscriptions and donations.

TREES CHARACTERIZED.

THE sailing Pine; the Cedar, proud and tall;
The vine-prop Elm; the Poplar, never dry;
The builder Oak, sole king of forests all;
The Aspern, good for staves; the Cypress, funeral;
The Laurel, meed of mighty conquerors
And poets sage; the Fir that weepeth still;
The Willow, worn of hopeless paramours;
The Yew, obedient to the bender's will;
The Birch for shafts; the Sallow for the mill;
The Myrrh, sweet bleeding in the bitter wound;
The warlike Beech; the Ash, for nothing ill;
The fruitful Olive, and the Platane round,
The carver Holm, the Maple, seldom inward sound.

SPENSER.

THE GREAT FLOODS IN THE NORTH OF

SCOTLAND, IN AUGUST, 1829.

THE heat in the province of Moray, during the months of May, June, and July, was unusually great; and in the earlier part of that period, the drought was excessive. The variations of the barometer were very remarkable, but were so seldom followed by corresponding changes in the weather, that observers of the instrument began to lose all confidence in it. In July the aurora borealis was frequently seen, accompanied by windy, unsteady weather, and the continued drought was interrupted by sudden falls of rain, partaking of the character of water-spouts.

A remarkable instance of one of these occurred on Sunday the 12th of July, at Kean-loch-luichart, a little highland hamlet in Ross-shire. A man having taken shelter under an arch, suddenly beheld a moving mountain of soil, stones, and trees, coming slowly but steadily down the deep-worn course of a little stream. He fled in terror. It reached the bridge, where its progress was for a moment arrested; when, bursting the feeble barrier that opposed it, on it rushed with dreadful devastation over the plain below. A small rivulet on the other side of the church was much swollen, so that the people, on coming out of church, found themselves in an instant between two impassable torrents, and had barely time to save their lives, by crowding to an elevated spot, where they remained till the waters

subsided.

The rain began on Sunday evening the 2nd of August, and continued with little or no intermission till Tuesday. The Nairn and other streams of the valley through which it runs, rushed from the mountains, filled with gravel and stones, and committed great havoc on many farms, and carried a huge mass of machinery from the fulling mill of Faillie, down to Cantray, nine miles below; from whence it was with much labour brought back to its home, but was hardly well re-established, when the flood of the 27th bore it away again, and landed it at Kilravock, after a voyage of eleven miles.

The Naugh of Culbeg, of twenty-five acres in extent, had the whole of its crop annihilated, and the worthy tenant of the farm, James Mackintosh and his family, narrowly escaped destruction: for two days they were kept out of their dwelling, and when, at length, they were enabled to return to it, and set things a little in order, thanking God for their personal safety, the yet more terrible flood of the 27th visited them, and filled the rooms to the height of five feet. They retreated more precipitately than before; "But," said Mr. Mackintosh to me, as we stood afterwards on his damp disconsolate floor, "I minded me o something I would have done ill wanting; and so I wade back again, and crept in at that window, and after groping about, and getting hold of what I was seeking, I was going to creep out again, when I bethought me of my specks. "Specks," said I, "how could you risk your life for a pair of spectacles?" "Trouth, sir," replied he seriously, "I could not have read my Bible without them; and, more than that, they were silver specks, and they were specks sent me home in a present from my son the Episcopal minister in Canada."

At the town of Nairn, at the mouth of the river, there was a tremendous gale of wind on the 3rd, but the most destructive effects of the flood were seen after the 27th, when the bridge was seriously injured, great part of the stone piers and embankment of the harbour carried away, and a brig sunk at its mouth. A remarkable object in this scene of desolation was a fishing-hut about twelve feet long, standing on a beach in the middle of the river, constructed of four posts, with bearers stretched between them at top and bottom, and covered, roof and all, with outside planks. While the bridge, the pier, the vessel, nay, the very rocks, were yielding to the fury of the deluge, this ark stood unmoved in the midst of the waters of both foods, uninjured. No building of stone and lime could have stood in the same place.

stroyed many farms, carrying away thirty acres at a time. At one spot was a bank of one hundred feet high, which rose, covered with a birch and alder wood. The soil being spongy, became overloaded with moisture imbibed from the rain, and with all its trees gave way at once, threw itself headlong, and bounded across the bed of the Dorback, blocking up the waters, flooded as they were at the time. William Macdonald, the farmer who witnessed this, told me, that it fell "with a sort of a dumb sound," which though somewhat of a contradiction in terms, conveys the meaning it is intended to express. Astonished, and confounded, he remained gazing. The water continued accumulating behind this obstacle for nearly an hour, as it did not entirely stop the stream; at length, becoming too powerful to be longer resisted, the enormous dam began to yield, and was hurled onwards like a floating island. While Macdonald was standing lost in wonderment, to behold his farm thus sailing off to the ocean, by acres at a time, above half an acre more of it rent itself away from its native hill, and descended at once, with a grove of trees on it, to the river, where part of it still remains, with the trees growing upright upon it.

The devastation caused by the Findhorn swept away every sign of cultivation on the rich and extensive plain of Forres. Mr. Suter's house, at Moy, was filled, on the night of the 3rd, with women and children, who had been driven from their cottages; the men being actively employed at the risk of their lives, in saving others, there was great anxiety felt for the fate of those who had not yet escaped from their houses, particularly for a family named Kerr, and for Sandy Smith, popularly called Whins, or Funns, from his residing on a furzy piece of pasture; the light in his window disappeared in the course of the night, and Mr. Suter ordered lights to be put in his own windows, to cheer any who might still survive.

At seven in the morning, Mr. Suter found his servant, Alexander Kerr, standing on a spot he had not left during the night, gazing towards the house of his parents, and weeping in great agony, for their rescue appeared utterly impossible. Mr. Suter tried to comfort him; but while he spoke, the whole gable of Kerr's dwelling gave way, and fell into the raging current. With a telescope, a hand was seen working through the thatch of an adjoining roof. A head soon appeared; at last Kerr's whole frame emerged, and he began to draw out his wife and niece. Clinging to one another, they crawled along the roof, and at last succeeded in reaching a small speck of ground, higher than the rest, and so close to the wall, that they stood on it without even room to move. It was long before a boat could venture to attempt their rescue, and then at a great risk, but they were all brought safely to land.

During this time, it was observed through the telescope, that Funns and his family had been driven from their dwelling, and were all huddled together on a spot of ground a few feet square. He was sometimes standing, sometimes sitting on a small cask, watching the progress of the flood. His wife, covered with a blanket, sat shivering on a bit of a log, one child in her lap, and a girl of about seventeen, with a boy of twelve, leaning against her side. Above a score of sheep were standing round, or wading through the shallows. Three cows and a small horse were also grouped with the family.

Between six and seven in the evening, when the waters were subsiding, a boat was launched with four of the most skilful rowers, into the wide inundation, through which five streams raged with elevated waves. The moment the men dashed into the first of these, they were whirled down for a great way; but having once got through it, they pulled up in the quieter water beyond, to prepare for the next, and wherever they thought they had footing, they sprang out of the boat, and dragged it up. They crossed all the other streams in the same way, but the last they encountered, being towards the middle of the flood, was fearful, and carried them very far down; when Funns himself, over

his best help to drag up the boat again; glad was he, to see his wife and children safe in the boat, and great as were the perils of their return, they were all at last happily landed.

The river Dorback, a tributary of the Findhorn, de

The wind and rain beat on them fiercely while on their little island, and "it was an awful thing," as Funns him self said, "to be expecting every minute to be swept into eternity in such an unprepared state, and our ears driven deaf with the roaring of the waters, and the crashing of

the great trees that came past us every minute, and every thing dark about us, and nothing to be seen but the fardistant glimmer of Mr. Suter's candles; but their light was some little comfort,-it seemed as if the Lord had not altogether forsaken us." Upon being asked if he had prayed, "Ay, sir, long and strong," replied he, earnestly, and more fervently than I ever did in my life before; and thankful to Providence was I when I found that my prayers were heard. I'll be grateful to God all my days. It's a great comfort to a poor man to feel that the Lord is his friend."

The whole plain of Forres was under water, and looked afterwards like an uprooted forest, from the ruins of enormous trees with which it was covered. The losses of the poor here were very great, seventy-five cases of families reduced to misery having been reported from one parish.

An extraordinary circumstance took place in a little lake near Aviemore, and near the great road. The lake lies in a hollow, and has a fir-wood beyond it to the south. The centre of it was filled with a swampy island, which had been now and then seen to rise and fall a little with the surface of the water. During the flood, one of the crossdrains of the road sent a stream directly down a hollow, and rushed into the lake with such force, that it actually undermined and tore up the island; and the surface of the water being raised fifteen or twenty feet, and the wind blowing furiously from the north-east, the huge mass was floated and drifted to the southern shore, and stranded on the steep bank, where it lay like a great carpet, the upper half reclining on the slope of the bank, and the lower resting on the more level ground, close to the water's edge.

The river Feshie, which runs into the Spey, was subject to the full influence of the deluge. It swept vast stones, and heavy trees, along with it, roaring tremendously. At the hamlet of Cullachie, on the right bank of the Spey, I was struck with the vast extent of the flood-mark, and, being incredulous that the inundation could have spread so far, I turned aside to the house of the Widow Cameron, who gave me the history of her disasters.-" Oh, sir," said she," you see the Spey was just one sea a' the way from Tullochgorum, on the other side of the strath, to those hillocks beyond the King's-road, and before we knew where we were, the water was up four or five feet in our houses; it destroyed all our meal, and floated off our peat-stacks." "And how did you escape?" I inquired. "Oh, troth, just upon a brander," replied Mrs. Cameron. "A brander," exclaimed I, in astonishment, not knowing that the word was applied to any thing but a Scotch gridiron; "what do you mean by a brander?" "O, just a bit float," replied

the widow; "a bit raft, I made o' the palings and bits o moss-fir that were lying about." "What! and your chil dren too?" exclaimed I. "Oh, what else;" replied she, amused at my surprise; "what could I have done with them else; no horse could come near us; it was deep enough to drown two horses; but you see I sat on the middle of the raft, with my bairns all about me in a knot, and the wind that was blowing strong enough from the north, just took us safe out to the land." "And how did your neighbours get out?" "O what way would they get out but all together upon branders," replied Mrs. Cameron. Let the reader fancy to himself this fleet of branders, with their crews of women and children, and he will have before his mind's eye a scene as remarkable as any which this eventful flood produced.

On the river Nethey, the excavations caused by the flood have laid open the foundations of some iron-works, which were deserted about one hundred years ago, and all traces of which had been obliterated by the deposits of the river.

At the bridge of Nethey, some people were standing on the bridge watching the flood, which was carrying down great trees, and tossing them up perpendicularly, when, all at once, the enormous mass of timber building, composing the saw-mill of Straanbeg, about 500 yards above, moved bodily off, steadily and magnificently, like some threedecker leaving dock, and without a plank being dislodged. It was tremendous, it was awful to see it advancing on the bridge. The people shuddered,-some moved quickly away, and others instinctively grasped the parapet to prepare for the shock; it was already within 100 yards of them, when at once it struck upon a bulwark, went to pieces with a fearful crash, and spreading itself over the surface of the stream, went down to the Spey in one sea of wreck.

On the river Dulnan, at the well-known stage of the bridge of Carr, the old bridge, long since disused, was always a picturesque object, but the flood has rendered it still more so by entirely removing the remains of its wingwalls, and leaving its tall, round, skeleton arch standing, opposed to the plump and well-conditioned body of the more substantial modern erection.

The bridge of Curr, on the Spey, of a single arch of sixty-five feet span, had its southern abutment undermined by the water. An eye witness informs me, that the moment the support gave way, the force of the immense body of water was so great, that it made the arch spring fifteen feet into the air. While in the act of ascending, it maintained its perfect semicircular form, but as it descended, its ends came together.

KERR S HOUSE DURING THE FLOOD.

The once beautiful plain of Rothes presented only a scene of devastation after the inundation; many houses in the village of Rothes were destroyed; and fears were entertained for the safety of the inhabitants of some of the farms above the village. Mr. Brown saw that the water was five feet high against the walls of a farm-house, tenanted by widow Riach, and the stream that was rushing by, was at least four times as wide as the Spey in its ordinary state. One end of the house was so undermined, that it was evident the gable must soon fall, when to his horror, he saw a woman waving a handkerchief out of a window of that very gable. Mr. Brown hurried off to the village to procure a boat, and at length, succeeded in getting it launched and manned for the expedition, and with great difficulty, they succeeded in saving the women. The boat then returned for the men, and as before, pushed behind some intervening buildings. While the spectators were anxiously looking for its reappearance, the gable which had been so long undermined, gave way at once, and carried half the building along with it. When the tremendous splash of water, and cloud of dust cleared away, to the unspeakable joy of the beholders, the little boat was seen through the gap in the building, with the remainder of the family seated in it, who were soon happily out of the reach of danger. Mrs. Riach had her Bible in her hand, apparently, the only wreck of property she had saved; but in that she had found consolation. Her soul had been already attuned to affliction: in her widowed state, she had lately lost her son, and now, nearly her all was gone; for. when I visited her farm, not a vestige of new or old crop was left. The house had, indeed, been built up, but every thing else was one wide waste of ruin and devastation, yet, with all this, pure religion had produced its effect, and the pale, mild countenance of the widow met me at her door, wearing an expression of resignation and gratitude, for the merciful deliverance which had been vouchsafed her. There was no complaint; every word she uttered, showed her deep sense of the goodness of that God, who is ever the widow's friend, and who had so wonderfully preserved her, and those she held

most dear.

Below Orton, the cottage of a poor and very industrious man, John Geddes, built on a spot somewhat elevated, had entirely escaped the floods of former years, when the neighbouring houses were inundated to a considerable depth. Alarmed by the rapid rise of the river, the people of other cottages, crowded as night fell, to that belonging to John Geddes, firmly believing, that they should be

KERR'S HOUSE AFTER THE FLOOD.

64

perfectly safe in it There, nine men and women, and four children, sat shivering over the fire, in their wet garments. The faggots were heaped high, and they began to forget their fears, when Geddes and another went out, and saw the water growing terrible. Ye're all very merry, sirs," said he, as he went in, "but ye'll no be so lang. Ye had better stir your stumps, and put things out of the way, and look to your own safety." The words were hardly out of my mouth," his account continues, "when in came the river upon us. We lifted the meal-chest, and put the wife and her baby, and the bairnies into the bed, and the rest got up on chests and tables. We put the fire on the girdle, hung the girdle on the crook in the chimney, and stuck the lamp up on the wall. But the water soon drowned out the fire, and rose into the bed. I then put two chairs in the bed, and the wife sat upen them with the little ones in her lap; but the water soon get up to them there. Then I cut the ceiling above the bed, put a door between the two chair backs, laid a bed on the door, set the wife and little ones above that, and then went and held the door firm with my feet, having an axe ready to cut the house roof in case of need. We were long in this way, and I cheered them the best I could, and told them the hours every now and then by my watch, which I hung up in my sight; but the water rose and rose, till about two o'clock, when it drowned out the lamp. There was then a groan, and a cry that there was nothing for us now but death. "Trust in Providence,' says I to them; 'trust in Providence, neighbours. But dinna think that ye can be saved, unless ye make use of the reason and faculties that God has bestowed on ye. I'll cut the roof the moment I see that nothing else will do.' But in truth it was an aw'some night, what with the roar and raging of the water, the howling of the wind, the beating of the rain without, and the cries and prayers of the terrified folk, and greeting of the bairns within; and we, as a body might say, hanging between the two worlds, every moment expecting the house to give way; and the very tables and chairs the folk were standing on, shaking and floating beneath them. Aweel! when we were in the height of despondency, Maggy Christie heard tongues without, and with very joy, she jumped down from the chest she was standing on; but, I trow, she got such a gliff of the water, that she gave a roar, and leaping on the hearth, caught at the crook to save herself, and with that she climbed up the chimney, and put her head out at the top, with her face as black as a suttyman's. Oh! Jamie Mill, Jamie Mill. cried she, ye're the blythest sight that ever I saw! Keep us a'!

THE BRIG OF BALGOWNIE