meets frequent and sad sccounts of accidents, of sudden deaths, of suicides and of murders; still he reads on, day after day, taking no thought to him. self, until at last his name is seen in the print-The Lord cometh and findeth the watchman asleep-Such is man, and such, too often, his end!"

"

*

About five minutes before eleven turn up a short street out of Moorfields, adjoining Finsbury Square, and on the right you will see a plain, unassuming brick edifice with a neat Pantheon-like porch, and light iron railings before it. There will be several carriages at the door and a crowd of persous making eagerly for the door, among whom are many strangers fearful of not obtaining seats. You squeeze yourself in and on the half-glass door which opens into the body of the chapel is a notice to the effect that in the library attached to it may be purchased the monthly Repository, edited by the minister of the chapel, and that seats are to be had at from`eight to twelve shillings a year. You go into the gallery and after a deal of pushing obtain a place in one of the back rows. The chapel cannot fail to strike you as novel; it is in shape a horse-shoe. At one. end of the galleries is a stall organ in front of which are seats for persons of both sexes, who are the singers con amore., The pulpit facing the organ, is a small round desk, surrounded with railings, on an elevation, and contains an arm chair and a music stand for books of reference.

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You miss the solemn stillness of other places of worship on entering here there is a constant bustle and buz, like that of a crowd when some great personage is expected to pass. But William James Fox enters and ascends the steps of his rostrum, and the hum of yoices instantly ceases. Mr. Fox is a short, thick-set man, wearing a black surtout coat buttoned close up to the chin. He has black hair, long and thick, and wears it parted in the centre and combed smoth so as to hang down on either side over his shoulders. At first sight he strikes you as bearing a resemblance to. Irving, but you soon see a wide difference between them. In style too Irving is of the wild, imaginative and dreamy school of the Germans: Fox has more of the old Roman philosopher about him. There is a calm, Brutus-like stoicism about him that gives great force to his words. Were you to close your eyes while listening to one of his political declamations you might fancy yourself, standing in the Forum at Rome and hearing an harangue from the lips of Cicero. His auditors are for the most part of a liberal stamp who look up to him as an oracle: many of them however are strangers attracted by the fame of his eloquence, and amongst these may be seen occasionally Daniel O'Connell, Hume, Roebuck, Harriet Martineau and others of the movement party. One great cause of his popularity with these is the constant mingling of politics with his discourses; which has been more particularly the case since his assuming the editorship of a certain radical evening paper.

In his delivery he is slow, regular and distinct; in his style, comprehensive and forcible; always master of his subject, and posssessing an inexhaustible fund of words to convey his rapid thoughts. In his hands no theme is uninte, resting No subject however hackneyed but he endows it with an intellectual freshness and beauty. In his political discourses, such as the course he gave during the struggle for reform, and afterwards during the Irish question,-in these he is another being. You no longer hear the moralist, the theologist, but the democratic orator urging his countrymen to struggle for their rights and privileges, and exposing and denouncing with all the bitterness of sar, casm the misdeeds of the powers that be. In the one case he is Paul preaching at Athens the words of peace, love and happiness; in the other he is Brutus holding Lucretia's bloody dagger and swearing eternal enmity and vengeance on Tarquin and his tyrant race. To compare his style the better we will imagine him to be dwelling on the same subject as the preceeding and going utterance to his ideas in the following strain.

"Death, sleep's younger brother, how has he not been calumniated, misrepresented by a race of religious knaves that they might scare the soul of superstitious ignorance! Sleep cometh often-Death but once. Sleep holds his way in the stilly hour of night-Death in all times and seasons. Sleep often visiteth the humble peasant and flees from the prince. Death is impartial; he favors none. When weary, we gazə with pleasure, not unmixed with envy, upon a boson where "the baby sleep is pil. lowed." Yet how few, how very few are there who though weary of life and its butterfly pleasures, feel the same sensation when contemplating the form upon which the Angel of Death has set his seal! Yes, it is an Angel-an Angel of mercy; a bright spirit of peace and love, which releases us from the bondage of sin and suffering, and wings us to other and better realnis. But man, weak, wicked man, has depicted it to his fellow-mortals as a Raw-head and Bloody. bones; as a distroying demon let loose upon the world to annihilate the human species. They have robbed him of his sweet smile, and his gentle touch, and his fair form, and have given him a fiendish grin, aa awful blow and a sickening, skelton-shape. Who is it that has done all this? Monks! black bloated bigots! who have "murdered Religion that they might scare the world with its ghost, Superstition."-Happily for mankind the reign of such is over: their day is gone and they can no longer catrage human nature and reason, whose calm, clear voice tell us that Death is to be feared by none but the hardened sinner and the sanctified hypocrite, and that the future so far from being a fearful, gloomy blank, is a bright and holy scene, where man, repentant and regenerated, will dwell with Angels and Spints in one eternal sabbath of eternal love and joy and admiration."

Not very far from Blackfriars Bridge, on the left side of the road, stands a plain circular building the purpose and form of which have obtained for it the cognomen of the "Religious round-house." The Surry Chapel was built for the celebrated Rowland Hill, and was for a series of years the scene of his most active and useful exertions. His regular congregation was perhaps less mixed than that of any other in London, and consisted of the more respectable portion of the middling classes, with a sprinkling of well dressed persons of both sexes, moving in a more humble sphere of life. But

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like all popular preachers he drew together a great number of occasional auditors who attracted by his fame, flocked from various parts of town to bear him preach. To secure standing room you must be there a good half hour before the time for commencing. You will be struck, on looking round, to see how still and serious every person is; there seems to be no anxiety for the entrance of their favorite: no gazing at persons entering: no chatting with neighbours. All appear to be observed in the one great object of their assembling. At a few minutes after eleven the vestrý door opens, and you see a venerable, silver-hair'd person enter with slow, cautions step, leaning upou the arm of his Clerk who conducts him to the pulpit, and lays on the cushion, a slip of paper with the text written in letters an inch in length, for the reverend gentleman has nearly lost his sight. On first seeing him you are struck with the peculiarity of his features: there is a something in his countenance that can hardly be described. A blending of the grave and the humorous-a mixture of the solemn and the comic. Until you are habituated to look at him you can scarcely overcome the inclination to laugh outright, in spite of the place. Before commencing prayers he carefully adjusts his gown and takes a survey of the congregation with many of whom he exchanges nods of recognition. He delivers his text almost inaudibly and for some minutes it is extremely difficult to catch his words, bnt as he proceeds, his delivery becomes clearer and more animated. He seldom confines himself to his text, but rambles away to whatever subject comes upper-most, frequently relating some story or anecdote just as the fancy takes him. His favorite style is colloquial, and many of his dialogues are remarkable for their quaintness, originality and force. Mr. H. knows to whom he is addressing himself, and what is most calculated to fix their attentions, and this he always succeeds in, for I never yet saw one of his auditors asleep. At the conclusive of his discourse he sits down in his large easy chair and very quietly begins picking his teeth with a pen-knife. He is noted for an originality an quaintness of expression as well as for eccon. tricity of conduct. Many of the anecdotes told of him, are, I believe, true although there are some the accuracy of which may well be questioned. The following is understood to have really occurred in the Surry Chapel not many years since. He had long been in the habit of riding to church in a carriage and some uncharitable person took an occasion to comment upon it by placing on the reading desk a slip of paper with words to the effect that his conduct but ill accorded with that of the Saviour whose gospel and life he preached, seeing that he was content to ride on an ass, whereas Mr. H. must needs drive about in a carriage and two horses. On entering the pulpit the Rev. gentleman took up the paper and read it aloud, after which he said to his auditors "if the ass that wrote this will come into the vestry after divine service, ready saddled, I shall feel much pleasure in riding him home."-Another is old which does much credit to his heart, and is a good specimen of his

quaintness. He was chairman of a meeting held at Exeter Hall on the subject of Home Missions, at which one of the speakers alluded very contemptuously to the poorer classes, and concluded by designating them "Tag-rag and Bobtail." Mr. H. rose, stretched forth his hands towards the assembly, and, after a long pause of breathless silence, said in a solemn and impressive manner, “Goď bless Tag, God bless Rag, God bless Bob-tail." The simple but bitter reproof shamed the previous speaker, and the beautiful, christian spirit of the above quaint sentance went to the hearts of every one, and Mr. A. sat down amidst thunders of applause.

We will now suppose him in his pulpit and addressing his congregation on the same subject as the preceeding: the following might be his words:

66 My friends I know that some of you don't like to be told what I am telling you nevertheless it's the truth, and truth is eternal, indestructible, undting. It will live when you, and your children, and your children's children are lying rotten and forgotten. It will speak the same words when your very language, your native tongue, may no longer exist,-may have been swept from the face of God's earth by some great convulsion of society. I have told you, and I now tell you again, that you must die-all die. The old must die, the younger may. Now don't shake your heads and think "Oh! he can't mean us." I tell you I mean all of you. None of you are too young to think of it:-none of you are too old to prepare for it. And if you will. think of it, and repent, and prepare for it, then my friends, "ye have chosen the good part which shall never be taken away."-How many may have been listening to me in this very chapel this day week, who have since gone to "that bourne whence no traveller returns?" And how many think you are there present to-day who 'ere another seven days have passed away may be siceping with their fathers? What think ye my friends hath the power to save any of ye? Will your youth ?-Infants die every hour. Will your wealth?-Misers. do not live for ever. Will power or authority?-Alas! Kings are striken on their gilded thrones, amidst their nobles, their pomps and their vanites! Will beauty or accomplishments?-Death laughs at these distinctions-he knoweth, them not. He visiteth all alike: he crosseth the threshold of the palace and the prison: of the mansion and the but. There is no mark on the doorpost to stay the haud of this destroying angel, but he entereth where he willeth, and Oh! my friends, happy and blessed is he who when the master cometh is found awake and watching."

Kotes from Home.

Literature and Science:

Mr. James Montgomery has written HOUSE PAINTING.-A very simple me

six poetical pieces on "Christ's Miracies," to be published for the benefit of the Bristol General Hospital. ROYAL SOCIETY OF FEMALE MUSICIANS.-Her Majesty has intimated her consent to be patroness of this new. and valuable institution, accompanied by a liberal donation; and the Queen Dowager has intimated a similar consent, with a subscription of ten pounds per annum. The funds of the society are already in a flourishing state.

M. Garnerin, according to the Paris papers, is constructing a balloon at the Ecole Militaire, which he hopes to direct through the air as he pleases. On each side of the car he has adapt ed four palettes, resembling the wings of a windmill, which he puts in motion by the means of a secret internal me. chanism. The resistance of the air to every palette that strikes, is reflected upon the balloon, and carries it forward, just like the flying bird or swimming fish. M. Garnerin, it is added, has already made some experiments, which have proved perfectly successful.

The Pickwick papers have been translated into the Russian language.

The tendency of railways to create traffic is strongly shown in the case of some of the Northern lines. For example, the Arbroath and Forfar Company are carrying from 200 to 300 passengers a day parallel to a line of road which never did, and never could, support a single-horse coach. Upon the Newcastle and Carlisle line the num

ber of passengers in a given period, as compared with the number that travelled by horse-coaches, previous to the opening of the railway, has been as eleven to one.-Railway Times.

OIL PAINTINGS.-It appears, by an article in the Manchester Guardian, that the idea of multiplying copies of oil paintings, said to have been recently discovered by M. Liepmann, at Berlin, had been started by an Englishman, named Booth, a number of years ago.

thod has lately been adopted to render the surface of paint perfectly smo., and eradicate the brush marks. It is

done with a small roller covered with cloth or felt, about eight inches long and two inches diameter, worked in an iron frame on pivots, similar to the by this method is made beautifully even common garden roller. The flatting coat and looks exceedingly well.

NEW MODE OF MARKING LINEN.-A celebrated German chemist, Mr. Hoenle, has invented a new plan for marking linen without ink. This is effected by simply covering the linen with a fine coating of pounded white sugar. The stamp of iron very much heated is impressed on this material. Two seconda suffice for the operation. The linen remains slightly scorched, but the mark is indelible.

The legislature of Jamaica have voted 50,0001, for the purpose of promoting the establishing of mulburry plantations, and the culture of silk in that island.

ADHESIVENESS OF TIMBER.-At one of the sectional meetings of the British Association there was read a table of different species of wood, and the power which they possess to resist a force tending to crush them. The following are a few of the principal woods and the number of pounds which they would sustain on the square inch without sinking under the pressure. The

weight was applied in all the instances in the direction of the fibres. Yellow pine, 5,375lbs. ; cedar, 5,674lbs.; red deal, 5,748lbs.; poplar, not quite dry, 4,3071bs.; green larch, wet, 2301lbs.; green larch, dry, 5,368lbs.; plum-tree, green, 5,364lbs.; beech, rather green,' 7,733lbs.; beech, dry, 9,363lbs.; dry ash, 9,363lbs.; English oak, 5,364lbs.; Spanish mahogany, 5,198lbs.; elm, 10,3311bs.; box, from 9,365 to 10,000lbs.; kingwood, 12,645lbs.

IMPORTANT INVENTION.-One of the

most ingenious invention we have witnessed for many a day is a process invented