of whitewashed brick under some beautiful palms and feathery bamboos, in an inland garden called “Pamplemousses” (the Shaddocks), now cover the remains of the ill-starred lovers.  Mr. Pike appears to have visited the site but once, when, as there had been heavy rains, he could not reach the tombs.  He is evidently more in his element when wading after sea-urchins.  His observations on such races as coolies, Chinese and Malabar-men are all, however, to the purpose.  The island is peopled with these varieties, in addition to a mixed white population, the Indians having been brought from Hindostan for the cane-fields since the English occupation in 1810, and serving a good purpose.  Their manners illustrate the lower horrors of the Hindoo mythology, they appearing to worship pretty exclusively a race of gods and goddesses invented for robber tribes, who are appeased only by blood-curdling rites:  our author saw their young men running, with yells and contortions, over a bed of live coals twenty-five feet across to earn the favor of one such cruel goddess.  The Chinese, though in worship they exhibit the milder sacrificial spirit of offering sheets of paper, yet in a more stolid way show an equal talent for self-sacrifice.  A neighbor of Mr. Pike’s, an excellent quiet fellow, having gambled with his own servant for his shop, stock and person, was seen one morning sweeping and serving customers, whilst the youngster sat leisurely smoking, the game having gone contrarily.  “There was no appearance of triumph on the boy’s face:  master and servant reversed their places with the most perfect sang-froid.”  Of the Creoles, we learn that they believe the presence of pieces of coral in the house induces headache; of the women from Malabar, that they can only wear toe-rings after marriage; of the handsomest Indian tribe in the island, the Reddies, we are told that the boys marry at five or six, their bride living with the father-in-law or other husband’s relative and rearing children to him:  when the boy grows up, his wife being then aged, he “takes up with some boy’s wife in a manner precisely similar to his own, and procreates children for the boy-husband.”  The remaining wonder of Mauritius appears to be the great Peter Both Mountain, so nearly inaccessible that a rage for climbing it has been developed.  The first successful attempt was made by Claude Penthe, who planted the French flag on it in 1790, and English ascents were made in 1832, 1848, 1858, 1864 and 1869.  We must not omit, however, the Aphanapteryx, though Mr. Pike does:  it is a red bird which in Mauritius has survived its whilom companion the dodo, and which is to be described in a future volume.  Mr. Pike has obliged us with a book of admirable temper, inexhaustible research and fine manly spirit:  we could wish for our own sakes nothing better than that all our sub-tropical and tropical consulships were filled by his brothers, and that they would all make volumes out of their experiences.