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NATURAL CAUSE OF THE ROMAN WAY OF RECKONING
THE DAYS OF THE MONTH.

used, the chances in this case are always equal. But | by rertu the descendants of the Romans now imply
in the game of odds and evens, this is not the case. a taste in pictures and objects of curiosity; while the
Suppose that there is an unknown number of marbles Scottish peasantry, accustomed to value a rigid eco-
in my pocket, and that I take out an unknown propor-nomy and good household management, mean by "a
tion of that number in my shut hand, and challenge vertuous woman" one who carries on the affairs of her
you to say odds or evens, and that you always say house in an active and thrifty manner.
odds. The number of marbles in my hand must
either be one or more than one. [The learned pro-
fessor then goes on to explain that, in the first three
numbers, 1, 2, 3, there are two odd numbers, against
one even consequently that the chances in favour of
odds are here as two to one.] Advance to 4, and you
have 2 to 2, but still the evens have no advantage.
Take 5, and it is 3 to 2 in favour of odds. Every
successive odd number gives a superior chance to the
cry of odds, in a constantly diminishing ratio, but still
a superiority; and the reason is manifest; the odds
and the evens do not start fair-odds takes the pre-
cedence, and whilst evens is still diminishing the ad-
vantage, it never does, and never can, overtake its
predecessor." It is certainly conceivable that, though
this principle might not be detected in early times, its
results might be observed, and that a superstitious
veneration for odd numbers might be the conse-
quence.

HISTORY TRACEABLE IN LANGUAGE.

It is very curious to find in language-in mere words-traces of the moral and political history of mankind, leading to the conclusion, that, supposing no history had ever been written, or that it was entirely lost, some glimpses of past transactions and conditions might be obtained through the medium of philology. When a Scotsman speaks of his shackle-bone, he not only conveys an idea of his wrist, but discovers, by the very term made use of, that slavery or vassalage had continued so long in Scotland as to impress itself indelibly on the language of his country. Kitchen is a term applied in Scotland and Ireland to that kind of food which serves as a relish to less palatable viands: for example, the barley or oaten bread may be kitchened by cheese or milk. The word is unknown in this sense in England, from which we may infer that many things, which were dainties in Scotland and Ireland, were common fare in the more favoured land of South Britain. Kitchen, then, is a historical monument of the better feeding of the English, in comparison with the Scotch and Irish, throughout a considerable portion of their existence as nations. An equally good memorial of the conquest of the Anglo-Saxons by the Normans exists in our language. At the time of that event, the animals chiefly tended and preserved for food were the ox and calf, the sow, sheep, and deer. When the ox was at his pasture, under the care of a Saxon serf, he was naturally designated by a Saxon term, ox (bull and bullock are also Saxon, as are cow and kine); but when the animal was killed, and sent piece-meal to table, he was meat for a different class of society, the Norman gentry, and the flesh was accordingly called beef, a word of their language. The live animal has since been Saxon, and the flesh Norman, accordingly. So also the sheep was Saxon while alive, but became French or Norman, mutton (mouton) when dead. The pig ranged the forest under a Saxon herdsman, and was sow or hog accordingly while in life; but no sooner had he been hung up for use, or sent to the table, than he became bacon or pork (French, bacon and porc), by which terms his flesh has ever since been denominated. The Saxon deer, by death and translation of his materials, became in like manner venison (French, cenaison). Even the poor

For the benefit of those who are not acquainted with the Roman way of reckoning the days of the month, we may explain that, taking January as an example, the 1st day was called the Kalends, the 5th the Nones, and the 13th the Ides of the month; the days onward from the Kalends being reckoned the 4th from the Nones, the 3d from the Nones, the 2d from the Nones, the Day before the Nones; those onward from the Nones being reckoned in the same manner as the 8th from the Ides, the 7th from the Ides, &c.; while, after the Ides, the reckoning was, the 19th from the Kalends of February, the 18th, and so on. Whence this system of anticipation? It is submitted that it originated in the national habits of the Romans, which mainly referred to war, and to festival-keeping and shows. The Kalends, Nones, and Ides, were the grand days of the public shows, in which the people were so much interested. Eager for this periodical enjoyment, they had it, of course, much in their minds, and it must have been a general feeling amongst them to long for the arrival of these periods of the month. Hence would arise a habit of counting the days onward to these festivals, as four days from the Nones, three days from the Nones, and so forth. Every school-boy has a ready illustration of this supposition in his own practice with regard to holidays and vacations. He reckons, fire weeks from Christmas, four weeks from Christmas, three, &c.; and afterwards fire days from Christmas, four days from Christmas, three days from Christmas, and finally, the Day before Christmas, equivalent exactly to the Pridie Nonas, or Idus, or Kalendas, of Roman chronology.

THE MANCHESTER LYCEUMS.

grade." This is true of nearly all the so-called Mechanics' Institutions we have seen; and without meaning the smallest disrespect to that of Manchester, which appears to be admirably conducted after its kind, we may observe, that it is as little adapted for the working men of Manchester as the Royal Society of London. To support its large building, extensive library, salaried officers, and expensive succession of lecturers, the charge to each member is necessarily fixed at the high rate of L.1 per annum, a sum quite beyond the means of a Manchester operative, even when in full work.

As a means, therefore, of enlightening the darkness of the sixty out of every hundred of the Manchester people who cannot write, the Mechanics' Institution is next to useless; and we turned our attention to other establishments of a lower grade in point of expensiveness, which are better calculated for that object; namely, to the Lyceums. In going over these humble institutions, we were extremely fortunate in having the company of a gentleman who was mainly instrumental in originating them; and the manner in which he accomplished his object forms an important lesson in what may be called the natural history of benevolence. Feeling that it was not by merely printing circulars and soliciting subscriptions that such institutions are commenced, and that even when formed, it is difficult to induce the persons they are intended to benefit to join them, he went, pencil and paper in hand, into several of the back streets-the haunts of ignorance-and personally solicited the poor, the illiterate, and the vicious. To one who was unable to read and write, he said, “Would you like to learn? If so, I am providing means for that purpose." And in the event of an affirmative answer, he put down the name of the person addressed. To another who could read, he asked, "Would you wish to be provided with useful and amusing books? Because, if you would, I am about to collect a library on purpose for your use?" Thus he went from one to another, until, aided by the voluntary contributions of the more wealthy, he obtained a sufficient number of subscribers to commence the undertaking with a prospect of success. This was four years ago; and since that period, three Lyceums have been established, one in Great Ancoats Street, one in Salford, and the third in Chorlton-upon-Medlock, another suburb of Man

chester.

HAVING had occasion, a few weeks since, to pass through Manchester on our way to Edinburgh, we felt a great curiosity to visit the various establishments existing in that town for the improvement and reSuch are the institutions which we set out to visit. creation of its operatives. We were stimulated to The Ancoats Street establishment, situated about half the inquiry by previous acquaintance with a few a mile from the Exchange, first occupied our attention. startling, almost appalling facts-facts which show an The house is moderately sized, but commodious. It amount of ignorance and vice amongst our poorer bre- contains a library and news-room on the ground floor, thren by no means flattering to the benevolence or even a reading-room above, and several class-rooms; one of common policy of the better informed and more afflu- which, comprising the entire floor, together with that ent classes of the British public. For instance, the sional use as a lecture-room. The amount expended of an adjoining house, is sufficiently large for occacost of maintaining prisoners at the New Bailey (or in the fitting up of the institution, the purchase of jail of Manchester), during the last twenty-one years, books, &c., was about L.220, which was contributed amounted to upwards of L.200,000; and the county by wealthy friends of the institution. For the first rate payable by the township of Salford alone (a subur-year and a half, the number of members averaged ban portion of Manchester), chiefly for the above pur- 500 and upwards, and the income nearly L.250. The pose, amounted, during the same period, to L.2000 library contains about 1500 volumes. The reading a-year. Thus much is contributed for the punishment and news-rooms are comfortable and cleanly, holding of crime; but where are the funds raised to prevent quent visitation of its members. A few persons were out every inducement in those respects for the freit? What provisions have been made for the moral busily employed in reading; this was evidently not a and intellectual improvement of those hard-workmere lounging-place; all were perusing the print being masses, whose limited leisure is employed in fore them with eagerness. They just raised their drunkenness and crime, instead of in those enjoy- heads on our entrance, to see who the intruders were, ments which their ignorance denies them? The only and then continued their employment as industriously calf is snatched from its Saxon dam and its Saxon answer to these queries will be found in the succeed- as if we had not appeared. It appears that thirtykeeper, to figure in the shape of good French real on ing account of the three excellent but inadequate and eight newspapers, of different sorts, are supplied perioa Norman board. It is remarkable that the horse, ill-supported Lyceums. Again, from the lately pub- dically for the use of the members. ass, fox, wolf, dog, and other animals, not in like man-lished report of the registrar-general of births, deaths, ner kept, or in like manner used, have only single and marriages, we learn that in Manchester and Sal It will thus be observed that, if we had no ford, taking the average of the two previous years, able to draw some evidence of the fact from the lan- write their own names! Now, it is fair to presume written history of the Norman Conquest, we should be sixty out of every hundred persons were unable to guage alone. that a large number of this proportion could not read, and are thus deprived of a most productive source of amusement, to say nothing of instruction. After ten or more hours of hard labour, there is-there must be-a natural craving for relaxation or recreative excitement, which is now, unhappily, satisfied in the public-houses, sometimes to the amount of four hundred and eighty-four visits a day to a single dram-writing-class. This consisted of girls and women, shop. One effect of this vicious mode of spending time and money, may be seen in the rapid increase of crime in Manchester. In the year 1840, no fewer than 13,000 individuals were taken into custody by the Manchester police, out of a population something

names.

Some words carry us back by their etymology to the earliest age and condition of mankind. Tempest (Latin, tempestas) is of this character. It is so called from tempus (time), because, in a primitive state of society, eras are chiefly marked by the occurrence of great storms, and other such events. Farmers and rural people, generally, will yet be heard dating facts from the great snow-storm, the wet summer, and so forth, of their early days. Silva, Latin for a wood, being derived from the Greek suluo, to howl, may be considered as a living record of those savage times, ere yet man had gained the supremacy over the wild

animals of the forest.

under a million.

Full of these facts, we were anxious to learn, from personal inspection, what provisions Manchester possesses for altering and improving this state of things, and, as may be expected, first directed our steps to the "Mechanics' Institute" of Manchester. Former experience of similar establishments, however, induced us not to place much faith in the efficiency of this one for bettering the intellectual condition of the lower classes. Generally speaking, the sort of persons who belong to them render their title a misnomer. From the comparative expensiveness with which they are conducted, their members, instead of mechanics, usually consist of merchants, manufacturers, clerks, shopkeepers, tradesmen, artists, and others of that

The Romans spoke of so many head of men-a phrase which we limit to cattle thus plainly intimating, through the indestructible testimony of language, the light in which the great mass of human beings was viewed by a nation where the slave population was generally as three to one. The word cirtus contains within itself the history of civil society. It commences with the period when personal strength and courage are all in all: cirtus was at first simply military hardihood amongst the Romans. It then passes into that advanced and better regulated state of society, when high moral qualities were esteemed above the mere soldier's praise: virtus was then employed to signify these qualities. It afterwards sinks, in the middle ages, into any distinctive and predominating quality whatever. We now speak of one thing being done by virtue, that is, by mere force, of another; and No. 555 of this Journal.

*See Extracts from Love's "Hand-Book of Manchester," in

The small back room used as a library was so filled with applicants for books, that we had some difficulty in entering; and it was as much as the female librahis or her turn with patience and decorum. The rian, assisted by her daughter, could do, to supply the wants of the members, each of whom, however, waited average circulation is 450 volumes per week amongst the 390 persons who are entitled to their use. By this instance, we see that, when the working-classes can obtain the privilege of reading, they fail not to avail themselves of it to a large extent.

In an up-stairs room we were introduced to a female some of them from the factories. Nothing can exceed the diligence and attention with which they pursued their lessons. Some of them were of an age which renders it extremely probable that, but for this institution, they would have passed through life without being able to write their own names. This class meets twice a-week, and the average attendance is from 32 to 44.

In a large apartment at the top of the house, some forty to fifty men and boys were employed in cyphering, with a degree of order and attention which caused us to wonder how so many persons could be assembled without any especial restraint upon them, and be so silent. The conduct of every member we had seen was unexceptionable; their appearance also denoted that attendance at this institution had engendered in them habits of cleanliness, to which persons of their class are unfortunately too often strangers. Careful washings, combings, and brushings, had evi

* In the Eighteenth Annual Report of the Manchester Mechanics' Institution now before us, it is shown, that out of 1092 members, only 91 come under the denomination of "mechanics, mill-wrights, and engineers."

dently taken place between the work hours and that of appearance in their classes, both amongst the male and female members. In reference to the danger which might be apprehended from adults of each sex belonging to the same institution, our informant assured us, that not a single case of any impropriety had come to his knowledge from either of the three establishments since their formation.

The Salford Lyceum, which we next visited, we found to be similar in all respects to that in Ancoats Street, except that it was recently found expedient, on account of the circumstances of some subscribers, to make a weekly, instead of a monthly or quarterly subscription. Here we saw an elocution class, and heard two recitations delivered with very good effect. This institution has had greater difficulties to contend with, and has perhaps been the least successful of the three. Salford possessed a Mechanics' Institution like the Manchester one, too high in its subscription, which excluded newspapers, and made no provision for female education. The Lyceum, when first started, had an undivided field, but the Mechanics' Institution has since altered its plan, so as to resemble more nearly that of the Lyceums. Hence the resources of both are crippled; and although struggles have been made to concentrate the resources of all the establishments by proposing a junction of the more affluent of the Mechanics' Institutions with the Lyceums, the negotiations have in two instances failed. The Chorltonupon-Medlock Lyceum we had not time to visit, but were informed that it differed in no essential point from the others. Its present house is a large and commodious one, and was at first the most flourishing of the three. During one quarter, there were no fewer than 1300 members. The number, however, has since fallen to between 300 or 400. Attached to the building is a considerable plot of land, upon which gymnastic apparatus is erected. Various games are also permitted during the summer months. The lectures are delivered in the large class-room of the institution, and occasionally in the Chorlton town-hall, which, however, is incapable of accommodating more than 400 persons. The rent charged by the Commissioners of Police is 16s. per night. The institution possesses a large and well-selected library.

ber caused annoyance to the elder members. A dis-
tinct room, or else a table in the library, supplied with
the lighter periodicals, is appropriated to their use.
The news-rooms, like those frequented by the mer-
chants and other classes in Manchester and most
towns, are of course open on the Sunday. It has
been thought desirable, however, to restrict the time
to about three hours in the evening, from half-past
five to half-past nine.

Lectures upon interesting subjects, popularly ex-
plained and illustrated, are delivered as nearly as pos-
sible once a-week. But this, as the funds seldom
admit of paid lecturers, depends of course upon pro-
curing the gratuitous services of friends.

them also the younger children, who partake in and enjoy the festivities. The amusements are varied by a few glees or recitations, and sometimes by an address from one of the directors, in support of the objects of the institution, and inviting assistance and support. Enjoyment cannot be greater than is exhibited on these occasions, nor could rules of propriety be more strictly adhered to.*

To dilate upon the utility of such establishments as these would be wasting time; whilst to urge their extension, where they do exist, and their establishment in manufacturing places where they do not, too much cannot be advanced. In effecting this object, mere passive charity is useless. The simple contribution Classes meet four or five evenings per week for the of a yearly guinea, or single donation, does but little instruction of the members, juvenile and adult, in good. It is the kind of active benevolence brought reading, writing, arithmetic, and grammar, without into operation by the founder of the Manchester any extra charge. In the Ancoats Lyceum, the Lyceums, which alone can render them of effect. onerous duty of conducting the classes has been The frequenters of dram-houses and beer-shops will performed from the commencement by gratuitous not come to a place of instruction of their own accord; teachers. The directors make it a point of duty to they must be reasoned with, persuaded, enticed. To visit them frequently; the more attentive pupils are this end, a kind of mission should be undertaken sought out and promoted, the teachers encouraged, amongst the habitations of those who dwell in darkand two or three persons appointed to the care of each ness, poverty, and ignorance, and the advantages of class, so as to prevent the possibility of any being left moral and intellectual instruction familiarly pointed without a teacher. In the other Lyceums, a paid out to them. No other plan can possibly answer. teacher is employed, who receives occasional assistance Legislative enactment may restrict the daily period of from the directors. This involves expense, but per- work, but at the same time it augments the hours of rehaps is the best means of securing punctuality of at- laxation, and these are the periods which are in all cases tendance, and a uniform system of tuition. There so viciously, while they might be so profitably, occuare also, I believe, in all the Lyceums, classes for vocal pied. Provision may be made in every factory for the music, elocution, and mechanical and landscape draw-education of the children employed in it: but how is ing, to which the members have access on payment of the adult, who is unable to read or write, to be taught? an additional subscription. Certainly not by act of parliament, which cannot force instruction upon a man or woman, though it may upon a child. The main remedy, therefore, for all the ignorance which exists amongst our operative manufacturers, is active and unwearied private benevolence.

One of the greatest difficulties in the maintenance of the classes is the want of an efficient system of visitation of the pupils' homes, in order to secure their regular attendance. Without some check of this kind, the younger children frequently absent themselves, and by their consequent slow progress, their parents are disappointed, and withdraw them from the institution.

But the Lyceums do not, as we have seen, confine their advantages to males only; arrangements have been made in them from the first for the improved Thus the Lyceums, although totally distinct from education of females. These classes receive instruceach other, are connected by identity of design, and tion nightly in reading, writing, grammar, sewing, sympathy on the part of the conductors. Each is and knitting. The directors have been much ingoverned by a board of 24 directors, a deputy trea-debted for the services of a number of ladies who surer, and honorary secretary, who are directors ex have superintended this important branch in each officio, annually chosen by ballot amongst the members institution, and without whose assistance it could of eighteen years of age, and not less than three quar- not have been undertaken with any satisfaction, ters of a year's standing. Each Lyceum has its pre- or perhaps propriety. In two of the Lyceums, paid sident, vice-president, and treasurer, generally influ- female teachers are employed. Separate rooms, and ential residents in the neighbourhood, who are not as far as practicable, separate entrances, are prodirectors by the constitution, although their presence vided for the male and female classes. The former asand counsel is gladly welcomed at the meetings. This semble and are dismissed half an hour later than the regulation was thought desirable, in order to combine latter. This important feature of female education, complete self-control with some advantage from in- which the Lyceums claim as peculiar to themselves, fluential patronage, and to prevent undue interference will be more conveniently provided for in buildings on occasional questions by those who, from their sta- which have been projected for two of the Lyceums. tion, were not likely to take an active part in the re- It is intended to appropriate a portion of the building gular management of the institution. exclusively to their use, for day schools and evening classes, with a separate entrance at the side, and only communicating with the library by a door behind the librarian's counter, through which the female members may enter to receive their books.

The subscription to each Lyceum is two shillings per quarter, without any payment at entrance. In the Ancoats Lyceum, females are admitted at eighteenpence. There are a few honorary subscribers of a guinea and half a guinea, who are allowed some additional privileges.

The advantages to which this very moderate amount of subscription entitles the members, are as follow :

1. A circulating library of well selected books of history, voyages, travels, biography, the arts and sciences, with a considerable admixture of works of fiction and imagination. The exclusion of the latter from a Mechanics' Library appeared to be neither expedient nor just, although the proportion admitted is even less, in general, than in the subscription libraries supported by the wealthier classes. Novels and poetry are the source of high gratification, as well as even improvement, to the taste and feelings; and those whose occupations are long and exhausting, may find in them agreeable mental excitement, when more serious reading would be distasteful. The library, when adequately supplied with new books, is found to be one of the most attractive parts of the institution, and perhaps is the most useful, because affording resources which the workman can enjoy at home and share with his family. Indeed females, it is stated, occasionally take out tickets for their younger brothers, in order that these may attend the classes, and may bring home books for them (the sisters) to peruse. The great difficulty which the directors find, is to supply sufficient novelty. The recent publications of Messrs Chambers, the Novelist Newspaper, and the cheap pamphlet reprints of Smith, Moxon, and others, enable them, however, to some extent to do this, and at a very small outlay. Shillings will now go almost as far in this direction as pounds some years ago. 2. A news-room, supplied with daily and weekly journals of various shades of politics. In the furniture and fitting up, attention has been paid to warmth and comfort. This is essential to compete effectually with the inn tap-room, to which the workman is obliged in most towns to resort to see a newspaper. Youths under sixteen or seventeen are excluded from the news-room by express by-law, it having been found that it injuriously tempted them away from the class-rooms, and their presence in any num

A WORKING-MAN'S ACCOUNT OF AMERICA.+ WILLIAM THOMSON, an operative wool-spinner of Stonehaven, a small town on the east coast of Scotland, having returned from a visit to the United States, must needs give the world an account of his travels, seeing, as he sagaciously observes, no good reason why he should not write a book as well as his betters. And so here is his book, a modest specimen of typography from the Stonehaven press, and far from discreditable as a literary effort. Tramping through the country to seek employment, sometimes working at a factory, and at other times picking up a job from a farmer, the hero of the piece is enabled to describe matters out of the reach of ordinary tourists, while, on some points, he altogether differs from them. Others, for example, complain of the rudeness of the Americans; he is surprised at their politeness. The working-men, he observes, say "Sir" when they address each other, and their whole conduct is marked by self-respect. Employers are equally courteous to those whom they employ; and throughout society, wherever he goes, though known to be an operative, he is uniformly treated as a gentleman. In passing through Glasgow, on his return home, and when looking at a public monument, he is addressed by a girl asking her way-" Man, can ye tell me where aboot," &c. Such a piece of barbarism would not have ocAn Essay and Discussion Society meets weekly or curred in America, where even one of the poorest fortnightly in each of the Lyceums. There is no limi- class would have premised the question with "Please, tation as to subjects, except the good sense of the Sir." And we take the liberty of asking, why the members themselves, who decide by a majority whether same species of politeness should not be practised in any particular question shall be discussed or not. No this country? There is nothing in our institutions or evil effects are found to ensue from these discussions, social arrangements, as far as we are aware, to prevent as the subjects of debate always consist of some even the most humble classes from using the language harmless literary or historical topic. It is a rule of courtesy, if not kindliness of manner. It would worthy of imitation, that the question discussed is cost little trouble, and lower no dignity, to use the never put to the vote. These societies, meeting fre- terms "Sir," "If you please," "I will thank you," quently, to discuss subjects of pressing interest to "Would you be so obliging," and so on, in the ordi. the man, the workman, and the citizen, tend power-nary intercourse of the workshop, which we can see fully to benefit individual members by stimulating no reason should not be as polished as that of the the spirit of inquiry and self-improvement; strength-drawing-room. It is at least tolerably evident, that ening the powers of thought and expression; banishing prejudice; and promoting universal toleration; whilst they keep alive in the institution the interest of the members, and draw out the abilities of those best qualified to serve the institution as directors, as lecturers, or as teachers. An entrance fee of sixpence, without further payment, is charged to each member. The directors seldom interfere as a body, but individually attend and take part in the discussions as frequently as possible.

as long as working-men generally-we say generally, for we are happy in knowing many creditable exceptions-as long as they address each other coarsely or intemperately, and act as if they had a contempt for refinement of manners, they can expect no great cour. tesy from employers, or be viewed as equals by the better-bred portion of the community.

Gratified as is our operative wool-spinner with the exterior forms of American society, he is shocked with what appears to strike every traveller, high and low, Occasional tea-parties, concerts, and soirées, afford with amazement-the practice, as he terms it, of to the members of the different Lyceums and their people taking the law into their own hands, and by families opportunities of harmless recreation and which human life in some quarters of the Union is amusement. These are sometimes conducted by the really less protected than it is in Turkey, or India. Essay and Discussion Society, and although charged To punish a white man for homicide, seems scarcely so low as sixpence a-head, considerable profit is rea- within the compass of the law; such are the many lised, frequently as many as six or seven hundred quirks by which those convicted of crime may escape, persons being present. The amusements, which are provided the offence is not repugnant to public opinion. generally furnished gratuitously by members of the On a late occasion, a judge, in passing sentence of institution and their friends, consist of instrumental death on a convicted murderer, drily observed, it was music, singing, recitations, and philosophical experi- the third or fourth time he had performed this unments. In the Chorlton and Salford Lyceums, tea-pleasant duty on the same individual. These things parties and dancing have been introduced, to the great satisfaction of the members. Great care is, of course, required, and great care is taken, to prevent the intrusion of improper persons. They are almost exclusively confined to members of the institutions. The mothers and elder female relatives of the female William Thomson, Stonehaven. Edinburgh: Oliver and Boyd. members frequently accompany them, bringing with | 1812

* For the information collected during our gratifying visit to the Lyceums, we are indebted to their indefatigable promoter, Edward Herford, Esq., of whose obliging company we had the benefit. † A Tradesman's Travels in the United States and Canada. By

astonish our plain Scotch artisan not a little; and some cases of stabbing and shooting that he hears of, impress him with a most unfavourable idea of the constitutional liberty of America. The following account he gives of a bank-mob may appropriately enough conclude the present notice.

A BANK-MOB.

"While I was in Cincinnatti a very serious bank-mob took place. In order that this case may be understood, I may mention that there were a number of small banking establishments which, although not strictly legal, managed, by hook or by crook,' to get a large quantity of their notes into circulation, and as the times grew worse, they fell in value. Such a thing as getting cash for them at par was never heard of in the best of times; and now, as there was some prospect of the State passing an act, compelling all to resume specie payments, these establishments got embarrassed, and some of them began to fail in being able to redeem their issues with notes of other banks. Several throughout the state, and in the city, became bankrupt in the most fradulent manner. The people were roused, and made a run upon them. One morning, the run upon the Miami Exporting Company's Bank was so great, that their funds also run short. Now, although their notes bore to be payable in specie, the people only demanded the notes of other banks in which they had a little more confidence. However, they stopped about ten o'clock in the morning, and a shout ran through the crowd to mob them. Immediately the window-frames were smashed, the doors broken, and the establishment completely gutted-counters, desks, books, papers, money, &c., being promiscuously hurled to the

street, amidst the shouts and execrations of the mob. When I got to the scene of action, which was at the corners of Main and Third Street, a party of sixteen or eighteen soldiers had taken possession of the ransacked building. The mayor and the marshal of the city attempted to address the mob, but in vain, for they could not be heard. The marshal, a bold, active man, was on horseback, riding through the streets, calling upon all good citizens to disperse, but few such were to be found. They then tried a rusé-they rung the city bells to the startling and well-known tune of Fire, but this also failed. The firemen and many of the citizens, with the involuntary movement of well-trained soldiers, started at the word of command, and began to run to their stations. At this time I was standing on the steps in front of the Old United States' Bank, which was crowded with spectators looking down upon the scene, when I observed one of those little incidents that have turned the fate of greater field-days than this. As the firemen and others were running past, just opposite to where we stood, a fellow got up on a cask or box, at one of the shop doors, where he stood conspicuous, with his thumb at his nose, and his fingers stretched out, thereby intimating, in his way, that a deceit was about to be practised on them. The people smelled a rat,' and immediately returned to the work of demolition in greatly-increased numbers, and apparently more exasperated, both at the cheat practised on them, and at the sight of the soldiers. They stood at bay for some minutes, moving a little backwards and forwards, evidently preparing for a struggle. The troops had their bayonets fixed and their muskets levelled. There was not more than ten yards between them. The crowd began to throw brick-bats. Two or three of the company fired. The crowd then came forward like a wave of the sea: the company fired a volley, and several of the rioters fell wounded. Such a shout was then raised, all along the crowded streets, and from the spectators on the tops of the houses, as I never heard before; for I had never seen the sovereign people' in a By the time the smoke and dust cleared away, and the astonishment of the moment past, there was not a feather of the soldiers' caps to be seen. The authorities ordered them to fall back to the mayor's office, which was immediately in the rear. This was a wise movement; for, I think, if they had remained other five minutes, it would have been doubtful if any of them would have chewed their cud' over their pork that night. I believe the mayor had strong doubts whether he had any legal right to shoot the citizens on such an occasion; and no more soldiers appeared that day. It is true, all the companies were ordered out, but they paid no attention to this order; in fact, the greater part of them had not time, for they were busy, in the mob, helping to wind up the affairs of the banks; and this they did effectually before night. After this, the mob had complete possession of the city, and the run upon the banks continued; but they gave them fair play. As long as they were able to redeem their notes they allowed them to go on, but the moment the funds ran short, smash went the windows and doors, and the work of destruction commenced. The bankers fled for their lives. In this way they demolished the inside of five of these shin-plaster manufactories,' as they called them, before night.

rage till now.

There were a great number of special constables sworn in, and they came out about two o'clock, each with a

handkerchief tied round his hat to distinguish them.
They threw themselves in lines across the streets leading
to the mobbed parts of the city, allowing everybody to
pass away from, but none towards, the disturbed dis-
tricts; but it would not do. The people broke through;
and I do not think the constables cared much. The
sympathies of the most respectable citizens were with
the people; and I observed many of them, in the streets,
rubbing their hands with glee, and laughing, as one after
another of these swindling establishments were turned
inside out. The mayor was even suspected of not doing
all he could, and was tried for it afterwards, but ac-
quitted.
The mob went to work very deliberately, and, after
they had everything their own way, with good humour.
I was pleased with the spirit of fair-play' shown to the
Planters' and Mechanics' Banks, which were thought to
be weak. The cry to pull them down was frequently
raised, but a number of the active rioters defended the
premises stoutly, and they continued, through the day,

before the usual time.

to redeem their notes. The run upon them was tremen-
dous, but they stood out the storm; and, at night, posted
bills, stating that they would open next morning an hour
hended throughout the day, some of them with consider
There were several of those engaged in the riot appre-
able sums of money on them. Everybody had plenty of
money that day, such as it was. The very children were
running about with handfuls of dollar bills, several of
which fell to my share; and I have them yet as trophies,
and an evidence of the mode of regulating the currency
in the Queen City of the West. There were several
other banks in the city, respectable establishments, in
which there was plenty of good money and specie, but
the mob never made the slightest move towards them.
These are examples enough, to give some idea how the
Americans execute judgment when they take the law
into their own hands."

PERIODICAL LITERATURE OF FRANCE.

REVIEW OF THE TWO WORLDS.

THE gay, susceptible characteristics of the French na-
tion demand, from its popular literature, amusement
rather than utility: hence, there is scarcely a publi-
cation which issues from the French press that does
not contain a proportion of imaginative pieces. Even
the daily newspapers are obliged to waft their dry
details of fact-of public occurrences and political dis-
cussion-upon the wings of fiction; for almost every
journal has about a quarter of each page ruled off for
the reception of tales, or sketches of character; though
sometimes biography, dramatic and musical criticism,
&c., are admitted into this department, which is
usually called the Feuilleton. In fact, many of the
most popular novels have been originally published
thus, from day to day, to be afterwards reprinted in
volumes. In like manner, the magazines and reviews,
whose main and avowed objects are of a more grave
and sober cast, seem to exist under a pressing neces-
sity for filling some of their pages with the fancies
and devices of the novelist; presenting to an English
reader the same out-of-place appearance that a tale
by Bulwer would have in the Quarterly or Edinburgh
Review, or a romance of Ainsworth continued" in
the Times newspaper.

Arrived in the Thames, the traveller, by a stretch of imagination somewhat extravagant, compares a part of its banks to Thebes and Babylon. "On the banks of the river I began to distinguish trees, houses crouchextended to seize in their transit bales and packages of ing low on the shore, one foot in the water and a hand merchandise; timber-yards with their enormous sheds and skeletons of unfinished ships; also, a forest of colossal chimneys, in the form of towers, pylones, and obelisks, giving to the horizon an Egyptian appearance, suggesting a vague outline of Thebes or Babylon, or an antediluvian city, of enormous objects altogether extraordinary."

Similar ideas of vastness seem to have arisen from a sight of the West India Docks; although some abatement must be made for that exaggerated mode of expression which it is usual to pardon in modern French writers. "The East India Docks," exclaims this journalist, "are something so enormous, so gigantic, that they surpass human proportions! It is the work of Cyclops and Titans. Above the buildings, the warehouses, the wharfs, the water-steps and other heterogeneous structures, you behold a prodigious alley of masts prolonged to infinity; an inextricable labyrinth of rigging, spars, ropes, which surpasses, by the density of their interlacement, the most entangled portions of an American virgin forest!"

The wonder thus excited having in some degree subsided, another source of astonishment presents itself to the tourist. It is Sunday when he lands, and he is greatly surprised "at the solitude and profound silence" which reigned in the parts of the town through which he had occasion to pass. To the denizen of Sabbath-breaking Paris, London on this day appeared like a Necropolis, "one of those cities peopled by the petrified inhabitants read of in Oriental tales. All the shops were closed, not a single human visage appeared at the windows. The few passengers glided by like shadows. This mournful and deserted scene contrasted so forcibly with the notion of animation and bustle which I had formed of London, that I did not recover from my surprise till I remembered that it was Sunday, and London Sundays had already been described to me as the incarnation of inactivity. This The Revue des Deux Mondes (or Review of the Two day, which is with us-at least amongst the lower Worlds), a publication resembling, in outward ap- classes a day of rejoicing, of promenading, of festivity, pearance, our own monthly periodicals, but published and dancing, is on the other side of the channel passed fortnightly, is no exception to the above-stated rule; in the most inconceivable gloom. The taverns are an original imaginative article appearing in nearly shut on the eve of midnight; the theatres have no perevery number. The rest of its sheets are filled with formances; the shops hermetically closed; and unless original contributions to geographical and statistical provision is made on the preceding evening, it is diffiscience, biography, literary criticism, and political cult to get anything to eat. Life seems to be suspended. discussion. But what should make this periodical in- All the wheels in London cease to revolve, like those teresting to the inhabitants of this side the channel, of the chimney-clock when one places a finger on the is the attention it bestows upon Great Britain; for, pendulum. For fear of disturbing its Sabbath solemin almost every number, our manners, literature, the nity, London does not indulge in a single movement, aspect of our country, our political institutions, or and scarcely permits itself to respire. On this day, foreign possessions, are honoured with some kind of after having heard a sermon from the pastor of the notice; and, taking the present year down to Septem-sect to which he belongs, the good Englishman shuts ber, we find that, out of seventeen livraisons, or parts, himself up in his house to meditate, and to rejoice twelve of them contain articles on those subjects. before a good coal-fire on the happiness of being at The first we light upon is entitled "Littérature Ang- home, and that he is neither a Frenchman nor a laise," which, true to French tastes, is a critique, not Papist. At midnight (?), the charm is broken; the upon English literature, but upon English romances and novels, many of which do not deserve, in our own vital principle, impeded for a time, becomes re-aniestimation, to be classed as literature. Indeed, the mated; the houses re-open; life returns to the imonly really literary works reviewed or named in the at the call of money-making Monday, and then conmense body so lately fallen into lethargy; it awakens course of the essay, are "Alison's History of Europe," tinues its march." and "Ritson's Posthumous Letters;" but the most curious part of the article is a complaint against the periodical mode of publishing continuous novels, as practised occasionally in England, but daily in France. "These unconnected fragments," proceeds the reviewer, "supersede the old laws of compositioncohesion of parts, unity, and finish. The author only thinks of the number' he has got to produce, and of the twenty guineas he is to have for it; the pages which have preceded, and those which have to follow, seldom trouble him. Each successive number must contain a stage effect, a bait for the perusal of its successors. There must be excitement unnatural incident; the attention of the reader is violently suspended, truthfulness is sacrificed to astonishment, simplicity to improbability; the curtain is lowered at the moment that emotion is excited, when the hero is about to perish, when the heroine is in tears, when the heart of the reader beats with expectation. Miserable literary juggling! How, without connexion, without revision, without conscience, is it possible to ing ones?" write, not great works, but even rational or interest

Walter Scott, in connexion with English romance,
In a succeeding number, a long notice occurs of Sir
and is ably written. "Scotland in 1840" is a statis-
tical account of that country, compiled from our own
gazetteers, with many of the proper names mispelt;
for example, Mrs Millar, who introduced the spinning
of Holland thread into Paisley, is transformed into
"Mrs Wittar." To a sketchy article, entitled, "A
Journey to London," a considerable degree of interest
attaches, as giving, in a lively though flippant strain,
a foreigner's impressions of the great city. "I had,"
commences the author, "passed the night at a masked
ball. There is nothing so wretched as the day after
a ball, and I took a violent determination. I resolved
to treat my dullness upon the homeopathic plan;
for, some hours after, having had scarcely time to
take off my caftans, poignards, and the rest of my
Turkish attire, I was on my way to London. the
native city of spleen."

Such is the difference in the national habits and modes of thought between even such near neighbours as the French and the English, that, by reversing this picture, by stating its converse in every particular, we shall be presented with the impressions of nine Englishmen out of ten who visit Paris. Their astonishment would be drawn from the antitheses of the statements made by this French visitor to London. The English stranger in Paris would exclaim with wonder, "All the shops are open, all the inhabitants are from home, promenading the streets and public gardens. The greatest animation and gaiety prevails; the taverns are filled with guests; and although it is the Sabbath, they actually perform plays in the theatres ! This day, which is with us at least with the majority of us-a day of rest and thanksgiving, is passed in Paris in feasting, dancing, and revelry; and it is not till Monday arrives that the ordinary business of life is resumed." Thus those things which habitual familiarity renders commonplace and unnoticeable to a resident, strike the stranger with astonishment from their (to him) extreme singularity. The veriest Cockney will not, however, fail to acknowledge the description of the sooty appearance of the metropolis, truth of the remarks contained in our traveller's vivid caused by that smoky fog which Charles Lamb has designated, from its unequalled density, “the genuine London Particular." The tourist continues :-"One thing which gives to London a most peculiar aspect, besides the breadth of its streets and pavements, and the lowness of its houses, is the uniform black hue which shadows every external object. Nothing can be more doleful and lugubrious; it is a kind of black that has none of those brown and vigorous tints which time has given to the ancient edifices of less northern countries; it is an impalpable and subtle dust, which sticks to everything, penetrates everywhere, and from which there is no defence. A stranger would say, that all the monuments had been sprinkled with black-lead: the immense quantity of coal which is consumed in London for fuel, is one of the principal causes of the general mourning worn by the chief

edifices the oldest of which have literally the appear- active, impatient; they pawed the ground with their ance of having been covered with blacking. This hoofs, neighing loudly, as if inviting their adversaries effect is especially visible in the statues. Those of the to another trial. Duke of Bedford, the Duke of York, which is placed Perceiving the English horses so much distressed, on the summit of a high column, and of George the men of Nejd approached the strangers, who were III., on horseback, resemble negroes or chimney- occupied in rubbing down their steeds, and inquired sweepers, being made equally black by the quintes- how it was that a race of three hours so completely sence of coal-dust, which is always falling from a Lon-exhausted a European horse. "We train them," was don sky. The prison of Newgate, with its dark niches the reply. "How do you mean?" continued the and rusticated masonry, the old church of St Sepul- Bedouin. "Why, during two or three months, the chre, and several Gothic chapels, the names of which horses are allowed to live in idleness in a large padI do not remember, seem to have been built of black dock, having no work to do." "And this-to train granite, rather than to have grown dingy by years. the horse for a long time before the race, and to abanI have never contemplated that mournful and opaque don him to idleness for several months after it"tint, which lends to the edifices, half hidden in observed the Arab, "signifies that your horses bred fog, the appearance of enormous funereal canopies, in an artificial state are but of little use to their owners." without finding sufficient explanation for the spleen In taking their departure, the Bedouins exclaimed, which tradition gives to the English." "Allah preserve us from such customs !"

The general tone and character of the Revue des Deux Mondes present a most favourable specimen of French periodical literature, from its comparative moderation in the discussion of political subjects, and from the talent with which the scientific and historical departments are filled. We shall, from time to time, present our readers with other extracts from its pages.

ENGLISH AND ARABIAN HORSES.

THE following anecdote, illustrative of the enervating effects of the artificial mode of training horses practised in this country, is related in a recently published pamphlet by M. Hamon, who passed eight years in Egypt as chief veterinary surgeon to Mehemet Ali.

THE PASSING GUEST.

BY CAMILLA TOULMIN.

'Tis pleasant in the summer time a passing guest to be, And share 'mong dearly cherish'd friends their hospitality. Yet strangely thrills the human heart, that wheresoe'er we roam We kiss the chain whose farthest links are twined around our home.

And this, methinks, is something like the way it comes about, Though kind attentions but increase, without one thankless doubt:

Nay, better far one little week among all household ties,

Can make us know and love a friend, than years' formalities. We've been the pretty rides and walks-a day's excursion tooA pic-nic where the rising hills cominand so fine a view : "You mark the distant spire that peeps above that mass of green,

A little to the left, and there the ocean may be seen;

It might be so, and this I know, we had a merry day.
New friends are made, and visits paid of country etiquette,
And of the little children all I've my peculiar pet.
The eldest son, a noble boy, confides to me the thought,
The hope that soon for him will be a gun and pony bought;
He hints at glorious days to come, when school no more shall
And then explains the mysteries of his new fishing tackle.

shackle,

His sister dear, 'tis very clear, dreams in her heart so still,

While Kourchid Pasha was governor of Nejd-That line of light-yon drooping cloud provoking in the way." a country of Central Arabia, which produces horses held in high estimation-some Englishmen, who possessed several thorough-bred British horses, challenged the Bedouins to undertake a race with them. The Arabs accepted the challenge, and the English demanded forty days to "train," they said, their horses for the event. The Arabs, whose steeds are always in readiness, could not understand why it was necessary to train horses to run, smiled at the condition, but still consented to it; and at the end of the period agreed upon, arrived at the place of meeting. "Choose yourselves," said the Bedouins, "from amongst our stock which of our horses shall run against yours." The choice was made, and the Arabs inquired how many days the horses were to run. The Europeans stared with astonishment, and answered, "One hour will suffice." The men of Nejd refused so insignificant a struggle. "And is it for the race of an hour," they cried, " that you have required forty days' preparation? This gives us a most unfavourable notion of your breed of horses, which you say sprung from ours.'

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"Such is the custom of our country," replied the Englishmen; "but after the training they have had, our racers will distance yours as they have beaten others in Europe."

Again the Bedouins smiled, for in the meantime two small sickly-looking men, arrived in top-boots, leading two immense moving machines, but lean withal, which they soon discovered were horses. These were enveloped in cloth, from the tip of the nose to the hoofs, the eyes only remaining uncovered. The Arabs, who had hitherto never seen an English horse, inquired what they were going to do with those great beasts. "Run them against yours," was the reply; "to prove to your tribe that the racers of Great Britain are the first in the world."

The Arabs, taking this answer as a joke, retired, believing that the strangers intended to hoax them. The latter protested, insisted, and, at length, succeeded in persuading the Bedouins to return. Kourchid Pasha, who was present, also spoke to them, and by his advice they consented to run their horses. The sight of the two small thin jockies strangely excited the curiosity of the natives, and they begged their antagonists to tell them in what remote corner of the earth they found such extraordinary beings. “They are the jockies," answered the Britons; "men whose business is in our country to ride race-horses, and who also undergo a severe training."

How very fine to be grown up, and do just what one will!
Ah, foolish girl, strive not to shake the steady glass of Time,
For woman's heart and woman's care ring oft a mournful chime.
The world hath harsher fetters far to thwart the rebel will
Than thou canst image, girt but by the bonds that guard from ill.
Woven by love, enwreath'd with flowers, so lightly do they press,
It were a blessed boon to know for aye such happiness!
So weeks pass on with rapid flight, for they are gaily pass'd,
And yet upon our distant home some anxious thoughts are cast;

A letter comes-or, it may be, the want of one has power
To make us fix, 'gainst wishes kind, the parting day and hour.

The wind has whistled all the night, in threatening accents loud,

But now the sun is struggling with a canopy of cloud;
And through the trees the autumn breeze declares the day will be
Not cold nor warm, but just the one we most desired to see.
The house is in unusual stir, and boxes crowd the hall,
And something over which, by chance, a travelling cloak doth
fall;

One corner peeps of wicker-work, and now I know the rest,
For goodly things are often found within a hamper press'd.

I

birds"

thought I miss'd the snow-white goose and chickens; and "the Were what they meant last night, though I but half made out

the words.

Although I wept, I do not think 'twas for their hapless fate,
Though cut off in their very prime, nice appetites to sate:
How strange the chord; how slight the touch will waken smile
or tear!

And very unromantic things oft marks of feeling bear.

But few our words; for tongues that are like streams unbound from frost,

At meeting, are the very ones that parting fetters most.
"Put to the horses; we can do the distance in an hour

Unto the station,' after which we care not for a shower."
The house-dog wags his bushy tail in token of delight,
("Is it at last you know me, sir, or think to go is right?")
The station gained (we pique ourselves on punctuality),
And so have leisure here to say our very best “good bye;"
To give the tearful kiss, and press the hand with cordial grasp,
And own how much we'll try next year the very same to clasp.
Oh! blessings on the power that doth, or fair or foul the weather,
Annihilating time and space," bring loving hearts together!
And home is reached with all its joy; the tongue is loosened now,
A very cataract of words in rushing stream doth flow.
Our dog not only wags his tail, but to my shoulder leaps,
And shawls and bonnet fall about in most disordered heaps.
Though tired, we look in every nook; I'm sure I can't tell why,
Since walls and floors I never heard were very apt to fly.

66

frame,

The surprise of the Arabs now reached its height; and but for the assurances of Kourchid Pasha, they Once more, though not till late, my couch I press with wearied would have finally declined to oppose their men and horses to creatures whom they designated by the title of Mascara.+

At a

At length, while an attenuated groom leaped into the saddle, a tall and vigorous Bedouin mounted a native horse of ordinary points, which gambolled round the tent inhabited by his family. The wife and children came out to caress the animal, which, by its movements, seemed to promise them victory. It is decided that the race shall last for three hours. given signal, the horses started together. During the first half hour, the English kept in advance of their adversaries; but soon the Nejis overtook, passed them, and the Europeans arrived at the goal a considerable time after the Arabs. The English horses, breathless, remained exhausted on the spot, showing every symptom of distress. The Arabian steeds, on the contrary, were

*The French critic on a London climate is not perhaps aware that these statues, being composed of bronze, would, wherever placed, present a dark-coloured appearance.

+ Mascara is the western province of Algiers, the diminutiveness of whose inhabitants has passed into an Eastern proverb.

And when I wake, a moment pause, to ask how there I came ? For dreams have been of those dear friends whom now but dreams can bring,

The children's prattle. Lion's bark, or some familiar thing:
The chestnut trees beneath whose shade the spell of silence

reign'd,

That spirit food which never yet was in the city gain'd;

ear,

All scem'd to haunt my slumbers deep, and soothe a dreamer's Home lured me back, but still I'm glad they've ask'd me for next year!

LONDON, Oct. 1st, 1842.

CASTLE BUILDING.

The habit of what in common parlance is called "building castles in the air," has a most pernicious influence on the health of the mind. There is a legitimate exercise of the imaginative faculty which is advantageous to the understanding, and to this no reasonable objection can be urged; but when the fancy is allowed "to body forth the forms of things unknown," without being under proper discipline, much evil will result. Individuals endowed with an unhealthy expansion of the imagination create a world within themselves, in which the mind revels until

all consciousness of the reality which surrounds them is lost. The disposition to reverie is very pernicious to intellectual health. Many habituate themselves to dream with their eyes open, without the senses being literally shut; they appear to be insensible to the impression of borders closely upon the confines of insanity. If the objects external to themselves. This condition of mind imagination be thus permitted to obtain so predominant an influence over the other faculties of the mind, some particular notion will fix itself upon the fancy; all other intellectual gratifications will be rejected; the mind, in weariness or leisure, recurs constantly to the favourite conceptions, and feasts on the luscious falsehood, whenever she is offended by the bitterness of the truth. By degrees the reign of fancy is confirmed; she grows first imperious, and in time despotic; the fictions begin to operate as realities, false opinions fasten upon the mind, and life passes in dreams of rapture or anguish.— Winslow's Health of Body and Mind."

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RUTHVEN'S PLAN FOR PROPELLING STEAM-VESSELS.

One of the greatest drawbacks to steam-navigation is the contrivance by which steam-boats are propelled. Paddle-wheels, besides destroying the "clear run" of a vessel, impair the speed by their bulk, and in rough weather destroy the trim or even motion of the boat, by being either lifted quite out of the water on one side, or sinking too deeply into it on the other. Their liability to accident is another serious objection. For these reasons, many attempts have been made to supersede them, but hitherto without effect; and it was with no little expectation and curiosity that we attended a lecture by Mr Lees, lately delivered in Edinburgh, explanatory of a fresh invention for the above much desired purpose. The new plan is simply an adaptation of the principle of Dr Barker's mill to the purposes of locomotion. The Messrs Ruthven propose to supply the place of paddle-wheels with two large nozzles ortubes, through which they cause water to rush with great force, so as to create a motion opposite to the direction in which the column of water falls into the sea. The water is to be supplied by means of several small ducts opening in the head of the vessel just below water-mark. The engine raises it to the two tubes, by which it exits by a contrivance similar to the Archimedes screw.

The advantages of this invention, as pointed out by the lecturer, are, first, the relief of the ship from unwieldy paddle-boxes; second, that the engine need never cease working even when it is requisite to stop the vessel, for, by turning the nozzles (by means of machinery upon deck) downwards, the locomotive power is directed vertically instead of horizontally, and the motion ceases, or can be modified at pleasure, in proportion as the tubes are made to slope towards the sea; third, should the rudder be lost, the vessel may be steered without one, by stopping or lessening the supply of power on either side, as a row boat is guided; fourth, the disagreeable motion caused by paddlewheels will of course be obviated, the action will not be obtained by impulses, but in one regular stream, as it were, from the violent issue of water from the tubes. All experiments with models being, to a certain expracticability of this ingenious invention. tent, delusive, we forbear offering any opinion on the

A PLEASING IMPROVEMENT.

Mr J. C. Loudon, in a letter to the London journals, calls attention to a highly commendable act on the part of the Commissioners of Woods and Forests; that of naming the collection of trees and shrubs which were planted a few years ago in Kensington Gardens and St James's Park:-" In addition to the scientific name, the English name is given, the natural order to which the tree or shrub belongs, and the year of its introduction into Britain. Thus, in the case of the sugar maple, we have the words below painted in white on a black ground'Acer saccharinum L. The sugar maple.

An aceraceous tree.

A native of North America. Introduced in 1735.'

I need not enlarge on the entertainment and instruction that this enlightened and liberal act on the part of the Commissioners of Woods and Forests will afford to the public frequenting these gardens, or even to those who, living remote from the metropolis, can visit them occasionally. Suffice it to say, that it will create a new sense in thousands of persons, and enable them to derive a degree of enjoyment from trees and shrubs which they had no idea of before. It will enable the citizen or extensive proprietor, intending to plant, to make choice of those trees and shrubs which he thinks most ornamental, or most likely to answer his purpose; and thus, by improving the appearance of individual estates, it will contribute to increase the beauty and variety of the woody scenery of the whole country."

BENEVOLENT SAYING.

The celebrated saying of the Emperor Titus, "I have lost a day," when he had suffered one to pass without some act of charity, has been often quoted as a proof of his exalted character. Dr Granville, in his work on the Russian empire, relates the following expression of the empress mother, which is not less remarkable than that of Titus, and appears indeed to have arisen from the moving principles of her actions: "Notre séjour sur le terre est si court, qu'on doit regretter le tems perdu sans faire du bien."-"Our sojourn on earth is so short, that we ought to regret the time which is lost without the performance of some good."-Flowers of Anecdote.

LONDON: Published, with permission of the proprietors, by W. S. ORR, Paternoster Row.

Printed by Bradbury and Evans, Whitefriars.

CHAMBERS

DINBURGA

JOURNA

CONDUCTED BY WILLIAM AND ROBERT CHAMBERS, EDITORS OF "CHAMBERS'S INFORMATION FOR THE PEOPLE,”
CHAMBERS'S EDUCATIONAL COURSE," &c.

46

NUMBER 569.

THE STRUGGLES OF PETER HOOLEY.*

PART I.

HOW HE STRUGGLES WITH POVERTY.

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 24, 1842.

IT was at the close of a short and bitter winter's day, that a squalid-looking and thinly-clad man knocked gently at the door of a decent house on the outskirts of a secluded village. The summons was unanswered. After waiting a considerable time, during which he cowered close to the door-cheek, to try to shelter himself from the bitter wind, he ventured to repeat the knock, and soon heard the shuffling of feet along the lobby. The door was not opened, however; some bolts were withdrawn, and it still remained fastened by a chain, when the latch was just removed, and a voice, in no very agreeable accents, asked, "Who's there ?"

"Let me in, for God's sake, Sally," said the man ; "I'm perished with cold, and well nigh famished." "Thou'st come the wrong gate to mend thysel', man; but come in."

The door was opened, and Peter Hooley, for such was the man's name, groped his way along the pitchdark passage towards the kitchen, but suddenly stumbled against some obstacle, and fell forward on it. "Oh," said Sally, "wait while I bring the light." She made her way to the kitchen, which was on the ground floor, at the farther end of the lobby, and shortly returned, bearing, in a broken tin candlestick, an inch or two of rushlight, which, from the current of air along the passage, she was obliged to shade so closely with her hand, that its dim and flickering light was scarcely perceptible. When they got to the kitchen, there was a sparkle of dull fire glimmering at the bottom of the grate, and the starved pedestrian sat down on the floor, and placed his frozen hands

almost on the bars.

The conversation was here interrupted by the creak-
ing of cart-wheels, which presently stopped, and two
or three rude and heavy knocks at the door announced
the arrival of the mistress, Miss Bridget Maclaren.
Sally quickly piloted her way through the dark
passage; and Peter, more dubiously, followed. With
his help, and not without some difficulty, Miss Ma-
claren was lifted from the bottom of the cart, where
she lay on a mattress, and brought into the house.
She was an elderly person, tall, and strongly limbed,
with a shrewd intelligent countenance. Her joints
were distorted with the severe rheumatism to which
she had for years been subject, and her usual stiffness
and helplessness was now increased almost to paraly-
sis by the intense cold. She was placed in an arm-
chair on the hearth, and then Mrs Foy told Sally to
light a candle, as she wanted her own lantern.
"I haven't a scrap," said Sally.

"Not a scrap!" said her mistress; "why, Sally, I
left you a piece."

"Yes, ma'am, but it's burnt long since."
"And what need had you, Sally, to burn candle
when I was out? It is such wasteful work."
“Here, wench, keep the lantern a while : I've an-
other i' th' cart. And now, hast ou no fire nor tea
for the mistress? She's right cold, I'll promise ye."
"I know not how I am to get fire and tea," said
Sally, sulkily; "there's water i' th' kettle, but it's no
abune milk-warm yet, though it's been on an hour."

"Well, come along with me, and ye'se have my
kettle; I'll warrant it boiling long syne. Well, de-
liver me from riches, say I, if this is the comfort they
bring."

Owing to Mrs Foy's friendly help, Miss Maclaren was soon seated at tea, which she poured from a broken spouted black earthenware tea-pot into a cup minus a handle, which reposed on a saucer of a different pattern. A piece of stale loaf, and a little dirty-looking "Not a mite: the mistress gave me out what she rancid butter, graced the board, which was illumined said must serve me, and that's the last o't."

"Have ye not a bit o' turf, Sally?"

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by a fresh piece of rushlight.

"Where is she?"
Revived and invigorated by these creature comforts,
"Gone to Barnleigh for her money; it's quarter- Miss Maclaren was able to take her visitor to task :-
day."
"She's out late."

"Ay. The garden crop's not turned out well this year, so she said she couldn't afford a chaise as usual, and she's gone i' Mrs Foy's market-cart. She'll not be at home this half hour yet."

"Sally, have you a crust o' bread? I'm sadly hungered."

"Bread, did you say? why, I coudn't get at a bit o' bread if your life depended on it. Mistress always locks it up."

"What! from you?"

"Ay, from me."

"She keeps you pretty close, I daresay."

PRICE 1d.

the loaf on her table: he thanked her humbly, and it soon disappeared.

He then ventured, with much humility and earnestness, to implore a little pecuniary aid to redeem him from his present distress. Work had been so scarce for some time, that it was all he could do to put food into his children's mouths, without attempting to lay by for his rent, which was eighteenpence a-week. This had gone on from week to week, till now his landlord would trust him no longer. They had already pawned or sold every article they could part with for food, and they had no means of paying their landlord, unless Miss Maclaren would help them.

"I cannot afford it, Peter; I cannot afford it. You see now the folly of being married."

"It's ower late to think of that now, ma'am ; I've been married twelve year, and never wished it undone yet."

"Then you must take the consequences, and go to the workhouse."

"That's it, ma'am," said he, starting up; "that's it; I thought you'd save your own flesh and blood from that disgrace."

"It's no disgrace to me, Peter; nobody can answer for all their relations. I have been prudent and careful myself, and it is no reflection on me if you have been otherwise. It seems to me the best thing you can do ; your wife and children will be taken care of lo; at any rate."

"Yes, but they'll be taken away from me; I shan't see them; I shan't have them. I'd live on bread and water, and work my fingers to the very bone, and think it all right, if so be I could look at their bonny faces, and not see them starving too."

"This is all very fine to talk about; but you've brought yourself to this pass, and must get out of it as ye can. I cannot afford to pay your rent. Here's half-a-crown for you, and it's more than I ought to give you, for it's more than I can afford."

And certain it is that Sally turned in amazement at her mistress's unwonted generosity.

With a heavy heart, the disappointed Peter Hooley took his leave, and Miss Maclaren having given the usual modicum of stale bread and bad butter, and dis

"And what has brought you all this way from your wife and family, Peter ?" "We are very ill off, ma'am, and I came to see if coloured water, miscalled tea, to her servant, addressed you would give us a little help.”

herself to the agreeable and oft-repeated task of con"You have left your work to very little purpose, ning her banker's book, feasting her eyes with peculiar then," said she, sharply.

delight on the newly-entered figures. She then care"I had no work to leave, ma'am." fully took a certain well-worn parchment from a cer"Worse still; people may always have work if tain well-known corner of her handsome but antithey're so disposed."

quated-looking mahogany escritoire, and unfolding it, "Indeed, ma'am, I'd be very thankful to work; but read it over for the thousandth time with unabated times are so bad, there's very little weaving given out, interest. It was the inventory of her silver plate, of and I can only have a piece in my turn; and we're which, by bequests and other means, she had amassed all but starved." a large quantity, and which had now been for several "Humph! some people think they're starving if years in the custody of her banker. She carefully re

"I'll tell you what, man, I'd half a red herring for they're not rioting in luxury.” my dinner." "And what had the mistress?"

"Oh, the same, the same: I must say that for her, she fares the same. I' th' summer, we've beans out o' th' garden, and a mite o' drippin' wi' em; and i' winter weather like this, we've potatoes and a red herring every day, and mistress cuts it fair i' half." "And does she never have no better?"

"Scarce ever. The neighbours are often sending her nice bits, whyfor, I know not, except they're a' lookin' to her money; but, bless you, she's hardly heart to eat 'em, though they cost her nought."

*We have here much pleasure in presenting a contribution by Mrs Stone, authoress of an ingenious volume, the Art of Needle

"I don't know, ma'am, exactly what you mean; but, as I hope to be saved, nothing has passed my lips this day but a draught of buttermilk, which a farmer's wife gave me."

"And a good wholesome drink it is; but, however, if you are hungry-Sally, give him the plate of minced veal which Mrs Collins sent to me the other day; here's the key."

"Why, ma'am," muttered Sally, as she took the key, "I doubt whether even he can eat it now."

And for a moment the famished wretch did start with loathing from the ill-savoured mess which was handed to him; but hunger conquered, and he cleared the plate. Even the miser seemed struck with the

work (usually advertised as edited by the Countess of Wilton), avidity with which he devoured the mouldy victuals, and of the recently published novel, entitled the Cotton Lord.

and with a trembling hand she cut him the crust off

placed these papers in their accustomed corner, locked her escritoire, watched her servant take out the remnant of fire from the grate, gave her out a modicum of wood wherewith to relight it in the morning, and then, by her assistance, got up stairs, was undressed, and put to bed.

But not to sleep. The unaccustomed journey on a cold day, in an exposed and open cart, had a serious effect on her frame; it produced an accession of her accustomed rheumatism, which thrilled through all her joints, and she tossed and tumbled the whole night in agonising pain.

The night was cold, bitter cold, and windy, and Peter Hooley pressed forward with what heart he could muster, for he had several miles to walk. By and by, however, a shower of sleet and snow began to fall, mingled with hail, which was driven with such force

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