LITERARY CURIOSITY.

Besides the patients of the lower classes who are employed in out-door occupations, those of superior rank have been induced to betake themselves to the healthful exercise of manual labour in the open air, and by their exertions, some of the grounds have been laid down anew. Thus, one disadvantage under which patients of the better classes have in other establishments been allowed to remain, has been obviated.

The various means by which this was effected, it would be too tedious to mention here. Suffice it to say, that by the force of example, by holding out motives likely to operate on the character of the individual, nay, even in some cases by a simple appeal to their reason, the task has been accomplished, and the effect has been most beneficial.

The means of mental improvement, through the medium of rational and harmless amusements, have also been increased, while, at the same time, we have taken care that they be as much as possible suited to the rank and taste of each class of patients. Books, journals, and newspapers, have been amply supplied; and in the evening, after the labour and exercises of the day, the patients may be seen in the well-lighted parlours, billiard-room, and galleries, cheerfully employed in reading, playing backgammon, cards, or billiards, or solacing themselves and their companions with the flute, the violin, or the piano-forte.

In a late newspaper we find the following droll poetic effusion in dog Latin, with a translation into English. The Latin is an Address to the Sea, and the English an Address to Mary.

TONIS AD RESTO MARE. O Mare, æva si forme, Forme ure tonitru, Iambecum as amandum, Olet Hymen promptu!

As humano erebi; Olet mecum marito te,

Or Eta, Beta, Pi.

Alas! plano more meretrix, Mi ardor vel uno ;

Inferiam ure arte is base;

Tolerat me urebo.

Ah me! ve ara scilicet,

To laudu vimen tuus; Hiatu as arandum sex, Illuc Ionicus.

Heu! sed heu! vexen imago,
Mi mises, mare sta;

O cantu redit in mihi!
Hibernus arida.

A veri vafer heri si,

Mihi resolves indu, Totius olet Hymen cum, Accepta tonitru.

TONY'S ADDRESS TO MARY.
Oh, Mary, heave a sigh for me,
For me, your Tony true;
I am become as a man dumb-
O let Hymen prompt you!
My eye is vet as any sea,
As you may know hereby;
O let me come, Mary, to tea,
Or eat a bit o' pie.

Alas! play no more merry tricks,
My ardour vell you know;
In fear I am your heart is base;
Tolerate me, your beau.
Ah me! ve are a silly set,

To lazd you vimen thus ;

I hate you as a random sex,
Ill luck I only curse.

You said, you vixen, I may go,
My missus Mary, stay;
O, can't you read it my eye?
I burn as arid hay.

A very vafer, here I sigh,
My eye resolves in dew.
To tie us, oh let Hymen come !
Accept a Tony true.

HOW TO ENTER UPON A SCIENTIFIC PURSUIT.

DRUG-TAKING.

Unhealthy people depend far too much on the druggist's shop. This perhaps would not be if it were recollected, as it ought to be, that the pain and disagreeableness of ill-health result from our perceptions of these things, and not from the things themselves. Those who go into

battles know that in the heat of conflict men receive the most serious and painful wounds, which they do not so much as find out until the hurry and excitement of the fight are over. Now, one-half of the ill-health which annoys people in the atmosphere of London, and with London habits, is just of that kind from the perception of which they might escape. I am no doctor in the pulsefeeling and tongue-inspecting signification of the word; but I have reason to believe that the most intelligent among my very esteemed friends who practise the healing art are very well aware of the great importance of turning away the attention of the patient from his or her malady, be it real or only imagined. Medical folks who understand mankind morally as well as physically, are, I believe, far less solicitous than some people think to make out positively and certainly whether such or such a disease does really exist, or only the imagination of it. In the first place (I speak, however, with the utmost deference to more erudite judgment), it is in very many of the cases which come before medical men absolutely impossible to tell what is really the matter physically. Some diseases there are of which the symptoms are quite decisive, and not to be mistaken; but of by far the greater number of cases of ill-health, the physical cause must remain in considerable doubt. The chief good which we then derive from the doctor is a moral good: we submit ourselves to authority and to discipline; we feel that we are taking rational steps towards ridding us of the evil which oppresses us; and we are, for the most part, inspired with hope, not to say confidence, by the sensible and encouraging words which the physician speaks. But there are thousands upon thousands who do not think themselves quite ill enough to call in the doctor, and yet go on from week to week, from month to month, and from year to year, continually ailing, and continually sending to the elegant shop with plate-glass windows filled with glass jars of various coloured physic (especially crimson), as if sick people were as silly as mackerel, and very liable to be taken with the same colour of bait. Now, it is for these people that I would presume to prescribe. What they want is not so much physic as diversion. How many are there who, while they are at home moping about with dull companions, or no companions at all, feel pains in the shoulders and in the back and in the chest, have dizziness in the head, black things floating before the eyes, sudden startings and twinges, and so on; how many are there tormented thus, who, when some brisk, lively, and intelligent friend appears, capable of rousing the attention and set

66

PROGRESS OF MODERN TRAVELLING.

Our fathers were-and that within the memory of men-contented to convey their goods from town to town on pack-horses. Narrow roads, which barely admitted a string of these beasts, burdened with the needs of many towns, ran on over hill and dale, and often were found worn deep between steep banks, by the persevering traffic of ages, and overhung by trees which had spontaneously sprung and grown over them, rendering them cool and pleasant. But the affairs of our worthy ancestors became sensibly on the increase. The string of pack-horses slowly progressing over the wolds and through forests, were found not equal to the demands of commercial exchange and speed; and they set their wits to work, and lo! Pickford's and Pettifor's waggons, and others, their contemporaries, appeared, piled up in ponderous stateliness, and drawn by horses in bulk next to elephants. For their convenience, the old roads were deserted as too narrow, or filled up as too slumberously profound. New roads of an airy width were laid down; and Mr M'Adam showed himself, with his necromantic hammer and pebble-gauge in his hand, and coaches came galloping after him at ten miles' speed per hour, loaded with eager and still impatient negotiants; roads of granite or of limestone, however smooth, or however wide, or however covered with waggons, coaches, mails, horsemen, and the infinite variety of carriages of pleasure, travel, and parade, which now appeared on them, were found too few; and canals were cut; locks-wonderful things in those days-were invented; and heavy boats and light barges hastened to convey their freights of living things, and things for the living-market goods and market people-to the places where they were wanted, or where they wanted to be. Well done, Englishmen! Things were come to a pretty good pass, it was thought. People said, wondering to one another, "If our grandfathers could but rise from their graves and see all this, how they would stare!" But it was soon found that the population and the needs of the country had outgrown even these accommodations. There was a cry for more conveyance and more speed. Some talked of balloons, some of velocipedes, and some of perpetual motion. The old and the orthodox said-"Let well be. Things move fast enough. There is no rest, no repose, no steadiness, in this generation—all is hurry, hurry, hurry. It is perfectly distracting!" They even looked back to the old hollow roads and string of pack-horses with affectionate yearnings. Nevertheless, a set of pigheaded fellows were busy with their brains, and began to utter strange speeches about the powers of steam. It was a thing which was to work our mines and mills, impel our ships, and convey us, with the velocity of a comet, from one place to another. Old men, and wise men too, laughed at such Quixotic vapourings; yet, spite

|

of their laughter, there were heard great hammerings, and filings, and fizzings, in the workshops of Watt and Boulton; and presently that mighty monster, a steam engine, was seen pulling up buckets of water and heaps of ore out of the earth, and turning a thousand spindles in our factories. It has become locomotive, has mounted the roads and the ships prepared for it, and is now flying from town to town, and country to country, with us and our concerns, in a manner so wonderful, that we shall soon find ourselves past wondering at any thing. Do we not ride at the rate of thirty miles an hour, and grumble at such a snail's space-step over to America in ten days, and think it about five too long-and hear news from the East Indies in little more than a month! Well done, Englishmen! as our fathers said, so say we-that is pretty well for another fit.-William Howitt.

FIRST PRACTICAL DISCOVERY OF STEAM. In the year 1605, Florence Rivault, a gentleman of the bedchamber to Henri IV., and the preceptor of Louis XIII., discovered that an iron ball, or bomb, with very thick walls, and filled with water, exploded sooner or later when thrown into the fire, if the steam generated were prevented from escaping. The power of steam was here demonstrated by a precise proof, which, to a certain point, was susceptible of numerical appreciation, whilst, at the same time, it revealed itself as a dreadful means destruction.-Newspaper paragraph.

of

Paragraphs of this nature, relative to various discoveries in the arts, are very common in newspapers. Nobody doubts that the power of steam was understood by thousands of persons before it was ultimately known for any effective purpose, and therefore no credit whatever is due to such persons as M. Rivault. In our opinion, no merit can justly be given to discoverers, unless they can make their discovery to be of some practical use to mankind, or at least bring its value distinctly before the public.

EQUALITY OF HAPPINESS.

Nor is it to be imagined that the happiness of the individuals who are subjected to despotic government, is necessarily sacrificed during the effort of nature to throw off the load which oppresses it. The same improvidence and disregard of the future, which is the immediate cause of the growth of a redundant population, afford sources of enjoyment to the individual unknown in civilised life, and soften the stroke of suffering to a degree which can hardly be conceived in more prosperous states. It is by supposing the subjects of such governments actuated with our feelings, desires, and habits, that their condition appears so unhappy. We forget that nature has accommodated the human mind to all the circumstances in which mankind can be placed, under the varied physical and political circumstances of the species, and that instincts and gratifications to us unknown, compensate to them for the want of those enjoyments which to us appear indispensable. The country of Europe Ireland; and Persia is the dynasty of the east where where distress appears in its more aggravated form is desolation and misrule have longest prevailed: yet every person who has visited the former country, has observed the uniform cheerfulness and joyous habits of the peasantry; a very competent observer has expressed a doubt, whether the people of Persia do not enjoy life as much as in the more civilised and laborious states of Europe; and the able author, who has demonstrated that it is in the purity of domestic life, and simplicity of manners in the east, that the real antidote to the whole political evils to which they have so long been subjected is to be found, has confidently asserted the opinion, that the average amount of human happiness and virtue is not less in the east than the west. The French peasantry danced and sung in the midst of the political evils which led to the revolution; and even under the horrors of the West Indian slavery, the evening assemblies of the negroes present a specimen of temporary felicity rarely witnessed amidst the freedom or luxury of their oppressors. The freedom from anxiety, the sweetness of momentary gratification, the relaxations from labour which result from the prevalence of habits of improvidence, frequently compensate to the individual for the dear-bought comforts of prosperous life, while suffering loses half its bitterness by being speedily forgot. "In peace of mind, and ease of never being foreseen, and misfortune half its severity by body," says Mr Smith, "all ranks of men are nearly upon a level; and the beggar who suns himself by the highway possesses the security that kings are fighting for.”— Alison's Principles of Population. 1840.

BEGINNING OF ROAD-MAKING.

The infancy of road-making, like that of navigation, must be sought in the infancy of nations. A canoe, hollowed out of the trunk of a tree, was the beginning of ship-building; and an Indian's trail, by which an untutored tribe wend their way, in single files, through forest or grassy glade of boundless extent, is the first germ of a road. Conveyance by a quadruped, which rendered necessary the widening of the trail into a sort of bridlepath, formed most likely the second step in the improvement of itinerancy. Next came the use of carriages; a sledge perhaps first; after that, the cart, or sledge, raised on two wheels, connected by an axle. Then came the double cart, or waggon of four wheels, by which two parallel and transverse axles were connected by a fixed longitudinal one. In principle, no improvement beyond this has been made in the construction of carriages, save the moveable joint, which at once, by the facilities it afforded for turning curved lines, dispensed with the necessity of rectilinear roads for large vehicles.— Wade's British History.

LONDON: Published, with permission of the proprietors, by W.S. ORR, Paternoster Row; and sold by all booksellers and newsmen.-Printed by Bradbury and Evans, Whitefriars.

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NUMBER 453.

THE FLITTING.

As Mrs Weston, accompanied by her waiting-maid, was travelling through a remote part of Ireland, her jaded horses, which, for the last four miles, had with difficulty been prevailed on to proceed, on coming to a hill high and steep enough to have alarmed more vigorous steeds, made a dead stop, and neither the blows nor vociferations of the driver could induce them to move a step farther. As this is an event neither rare nor unexpected in Ireland, the lady was but slightly discomposed by it. Having dispatched the driver to the next town to procure fresh horses, she quietly looked round for some house or cabin where she might remain till his return. Seeing a decent-looking cottage at a little distance from the road, she alighted, and, in the full assurance of meeting with hospitality, proceeded towards it; but her steps were arrested by the assaults of a host of cabin curs, that seemed to resent with peculiar asperity the unlooked-for intrusion of a well-dressed stranger. Their barking at length brought out the mistress of the house, who, to Mrs Weston's great surprise, proved to be an old acquaintance, for whom, since the lady's return from England, she had been eagerly inquiring, but of whose fate she had not hitherto been able to procure any certain tidings.

"Do I dream?" said she, "or is it possible that I see Nancy Gallagher settled down here amongst the wilds of Connaught?"

"Oh, dear ma'am, and is it you? The heavens be praised that I see one sight of you again," said Nancy, kissing the lady's hand, and then her cloak, in the ardour of her joy.

"Let me come in, dear Nancy, to this nice cottage, which I hope I am right in considering as yours?" "Then it is mine, and I wish it were a castle for your sake. Come in, dear, and a thousand welcomes! Wasn't I beside myself to keep you here standing in the cold? but it's all the perfect joy. Come in, dear, and I'll bring in your things."

"No, no; let them remain in the chaise, my maid will take care of them," said the lady, seating herself on a low stool beside the fire. "And now, Nancy, sit down and tell me all, for I am dying with curiosity. What has brought about this wonderful change in your situation ?"

"Sure you'll take a chair, ma'am."

"Let us have done with ceremony now, dear Nancy; we have no time to spare for it. There that will do-the fire is very good. Begin and tell me out to the face, as you used to say, all your history, and how you happened to leave Rathkeel."

"Why, then, I will, ma'am," said Nancy, smiling through the tears which the mention of Rathkeel brought to her eyes.

"But first," said Mrs Weston, "tell me where Jenny is. I do not see Jenny. She is well, I hope!" "She is well and happy, I thank you kindly, ma'am; but she is not with me at present, as you shall hear. It wasn't passing two months after you left us, ma'am, that all the leases in the whole town, I may say, fell in to my lord. Well, my husband, thinking, to be sure, it would be as in the old times, puts in a proposal for his own little concern; when lo and behold you, down comes the agent, and, says he, 'You must oust every one of you, for the lands are promised to a man of substance, that can show them justice, and will pay the rent duly.'

"That's hard upon me, please your honour,' says my husband, after me and mine living on the land these hundred years and better, to be turned out at last.' 'More shame for you and yours,' says the agent,

may say.' 'It's true for your honour,' says Christy; but then you know it was ris to fifty shillings when I got it.' 'And what are fifty shillings for such fine land? and why did not your father lay by a capital for you when he had it so cheap? Sure you know well you can't pay the arrear that's on it. Isn't my lord too good to forgive it you? and what a state the land is in-all racked and out of heart-not a fence that would keep in a beast. Why, it will take years to bring it into any condition again.""

the cow, and the pig, and even the little chickens I used to be minding at home. Jenny put me up to go spin. There was no call that time for the kind I was used to.

So, 'Mother,' said she, 'why not try the tow for sacking. Suppose we make but twopence a-day, isn't better than nothing?-and it will serve to pass away the time.' Well, to it I went, though it came strange enough to me, that never was used to less than three hanks in my life before. We sent the children to school, to keep them out of mischief in the streets.

"Where's the use of denying it, ma'am?" said Nancy. "It was out of heart sure enough, for, though we did well with the good prices during the war, the last bad years left us down in the world. So away he went, and left us with heavy hearts that night, as you may believe; but where was the use of complaining, especially as we saw our neighbours just as badly off as ourselves, for there were better than forty families put out that same time. My husband had a brother that kept mostly in Dublin, and he gave the greatest account at all of it. Don't you see,' he'd say, 'how comfortable I live, with good clothes on my back, and my fill to eat. Not all as one as you and your family, slaving yourselves late and early-scarce able to keep a rag to cover you, or a bit of bacon in the pot, on a Sunday even. I'll get you work,' says he, 'at the foundry where I stop myself; and you will do well, and the children will get a little smartness into them.'

Well, he said so much, sure, that my husband inclined more and more to his advice, especially as we couldn't get ever a cabin in the neighbourhood, except one that had neither window nor chimney, things we were always used to; and, besides, the rain came into it at all parts, and for that same we should pay forty shillings. As for myself, I'd prefer staying in my own country, though it was in a hut built in the back of a ditch; and Jenny wanted us to put all together, and go off to America, for the books she used to be reading gave great accounts of it, and how industrious striving people like us might get on there; but the world wouldn't get me to cross the sea, so it was settled to Dublin we were to go-and a sorrowful day it was when we came to leave our little place, where we had lived many a long year, happy enough (for all our brother Paddy could say), to go to a strange town, and take up new ways.

Our neighbour, Tom Connor, was very kind entirely, and lent us his horse and dray for the journey. We were three days about it, and wet and weary we were the evening we got into Dublin, for it rained desperately all that day; and then, my dear life, I thought we'd never make our way to the lodging that Paddy had taken for us. Such turnings and windings through streets and lanes; and the boy we had with us not used to driving in such throng places. It was well ever we came safe, and that the dray was not smashed to pieces. At last, when we did make it out, all the stairs we had to mount; it was, for all the world, like going up the tower in the old castle of Rathkeel. Jenny, who was always for making the best of things when there was no remedy, said it was all for the better-that we should have fine air up so high; but as for air, myself thought I never got my breath rightly, from the time I went in it till I left it again. We had but two rooms-one of them you could scarce turn in, it was so small; and yet we had six pounds to pay for the two. My husband didn't get into work so ready as we expected, but he did at last. As for me, when I had finished settling our little matters, I

live high, so we often had meat and tea; yet, with all that, I missed the sup of milk, and thought the children throve better when they had the churn to

run to.

Well, things passed on in this way for about a year, when home comes my husband one night, with the news that all was upside down at the foundry-ever so many men discharged, and himself and his brother amongst the rest. It was well they got their week's wages even, the money was so scarce there. His brother said they might pick up a pretty penny by doing odd jobs about town; but what was that to keep up a family, especially as Paddy wouldn't hear of our giving up the bit of meat, though Jenny pressed it greatly, for she was mighty considerate entirely, and had more thought about every thing than myself, God help me! though she was such a young slip. Another thing that vexed her greatly, was the noticing the smell of spirits now and again upon her father, especially since he fell out of regular work. Sometimes he'd be even stupid like when he'd come home. She went down on her two knees to him, to beg him to quit Dublin, and he didn't say much against it; but her uncle called her a saucy jade for advising her elders, and brought Christy round to the mind to stay where he was. Well, I did my best, sure, to be saving; but it wasn't as in the country, where we had the potato ridge at our back. Every thing was so dear, and I not used to Dublin ways. Our little stock that we brought with us was getting less and less, till at last it was all gone; and, what was worse, the men got the fashion of not bringing home their wages regular.

One day we were low enough, and had nothing but a few dry potatoes in the house, when in comes Jenny

'Mother,' says she, 'I have good news for you this evening.'

"Ah, what is it then, Jenny?' says I, 'for I'm sure it's much awanting.'

'I can get work at Mr Glennan's cotton factory, a little way out of town,' says she, and the wages will be a great help to us.'

'No, Jenny,' says I, 'I can never give in to that; it's too dangerous for a girl like you to be going and coming late and early'

'Mother,' said she, 'I don't find any thing happens to those that have a mind to take care of themselves; and, with the blessing of Heaven, I will never do any thing to disgrace my family-so we had best take the offer; if we don't, we may be sorry for it.'

Well, at last she prevailed, and engaged herself for the next week at eightpence a-day. I thought she'd soon tire of it; but late and early, in the heat of summer and depth of winter, there would she be as regular as the work-bell. I used to be afraid that the town sparks would be following her as she was coming home late in the evening."

"I don't wonder you were afraid," said Mrs Weston, "if she grew up as handsome as she promised." "Ma'am, you wouldn't believe how she improved:

it isn't I that said it, but every one. She was as likely a girl as you'd see of a summer's day-tall, slender; her skin as white as an egg, with a fine blush in her cheeks, and her eyes shining like two diamonds; and then such a smile, such a sweet smile, that high and low were taken with it—and many's the bachelor she might have had at the factory, only she was so distant in herself-and for all she looked so mild, had a way with her that none dared take the least freedom with her. Another thing of Jenny was, that she always went mighty plain, and instead of buying fine gowns or shawls, like other girls, she'd bring her money duly of a Saturday night, and throw it into my lap, saying-There, mother, there's for the house; and, indeed, we'd have been badly off but for it, for things were getting worse and worse with us; and we were forced to take the boys from school, which fretted Jenny greatly.

'What can I do,' says I, 'when I can't pay for them? Can't you send them to the free school? says she. Is it to a charity school? says I-'that's where none of their family went yet; and I won't be the first to have my children taxed with it.' "Wouldn't it be better, mother,' said she, 'than to have them taxed with being thieves and liars, as they surely will, if they keep company with the little vagabonds in the streets? Then she began to tell me of ever so many people that got their education in such places, and came to riches and grandeur by means of their learning. And do you think, mother,' said she, they would have thanked their parents if they had kept them back from honour and advancement, out of false pride? Well, she said so much, sure, that in the end she brought me over to her notion, and the boys were sent to the free school.

The winter was now coming on, and that was always the hardest time with us, on account of being obliged to keep up the spark of fire constant, and the coals so dear, and I not used to manage them-when one evening, as Jenny was coming home from the factory, she noticed a young man tracking her on purpose, as it were; so thinking to give him the slip, she turned into the house of an acquaintance in Thomas Street, and stayed there a few minutes, thinking, to be sure, the boy would be gone; but when she came out again, who should be lurking about the door but the very man? So, thinking it useless to wait longer, home she comes-he following every foot of the way, till she rapped at the door. Then he stopped too, and told the girl who opened it that he had business with the mistress. Jenny came up, and was just after telling me about the man, and how he startled her, when who should appear at our door but himself, and the landlady with him?

Here is a young man,' said she, that is in search of a lodging. I haven't a hole fit to put a Christian in, but I think you could spare that little room there, for all the use you make of it, and that will help to pay the rent that you're always murmuring about.'

Jenny gave me a look, as if she suspected something, and I the same to her; so, as civil as I could, I gave him adenial. But,' says he, I see where your objection lies, madam; you are cautious about admitting a stranger; but if I bring a note from your priest, Father Ryan, recommending me as a sober, orderly person, perhaps you may change your mind; so I'll call again when Mr Gallagher is at home, and then we can talk further on the subject. With that he made a bow as respectful as if we were two ladies, and departed. Well, in about an hour, back again he comes with the priest's note, recommending Mr Blake (that was his name) as a sober, industrious man, likely to prove a good tenant. My husband and Paddy, who were within, were proud to get one to take some of the heavy rent off us; so, the next morning, home comes Blake with his little furniture, a bed, a table, crockery ware, and the like, and, sitting down, he

tells us how it came into his head to fix himself with us. He said he was lodging for a while near the factory, and used to see Jenny as she'd be coming and going; and noticing what a discreet look she had, he asked the overseer about her, who gave her the best of characters for being sedate and industrious, and said he was sure she came of a decent stock, and had got a good education, for her manners and behaviour showed it. So, when Mr Blake found the lodging he was in getting too dear for him, he considered he might get a cheaper one with her people, and, consulting with the priest, who, it seems, was an acquaintance of his, his reverence said sure that we were poor honest simple country folk, and that he'd be safe in dealing with us. From this time he wasn't easy till it was settled. Mr Blake mentioned that he was in good work at the factory, but never let fall a word as to what side he came from, and we noticed that his speech wasn't just like our own, but a little queer and foreign like. However, he was very kind and cordial, and would come in and sit with us of an evening when my poor husband and Paddy would be out, as they often were latterly. Well, it chanced one evening as we were sitting this way, in comes Paddy a little hearty or so, and, says he, in a joking way, as he used when he was in good humour, Jenny, girl, you mustn't be always moping this way; you must take a little diversion like another. Sure, you never so much as take a walk into the country, you that used to be so fond of it.'

True for you,' said I; I'm always at her to take a walk instead of poring over those books.'

Oh, it's a better thing than a walk I propose for her now,' said Paddy; what would you think of a nice dance, Jenny; you that used to be so fond of it in the country? There's Mrs Strypes, the milliner, that you saw here the other day, going to give a genteel party, and she has been so civil as to invite you.' I am sure I am obliged to her, and to you too,' said Jenny, but you don't consider that I've no clothes fit to appear in at such a place. Wouldn't the pink cotton do,' said I. Oh, mother dear,' said she, you have no notion how they

dress here-as fine as ladies.'Well,' said Paddy, I was thinking you might make that objection, so see what I've provided, that you might have nothing to say against doing as I'd have you.' With that he pulls a bundle from under his coat, and opens it, and there, my dear life, was the making of a beautiful white muslin frock, and a pair of white stockings, half of them silk, no less, I assure you. Well, what makes you look so wonderful, both of you?" said he; Mrs Strypes has promised to cut out the frock for you, Jenny, according to the tip-top fashion, and you are a good hand to make it for yourself.' It's joking you must be, dear uncle,' said Jenny; you did not really buy these things for me?' Joking,' said he, 'why would I be joking? Why wouldn't I make you a present when I'm able? Sure it's the first time.' Well, Jenny and I looked at one another, and couldn't understand it at all, for it was true for him, it was the first time; he had never so much as proffered her a ribbon That was a good thought, wasn't it?' said he

before.

at last, finding we did not answer. Then says Jenny, I ought to be greatly obliged to you, and so I am; but I can't but think, dear uncle, when you laid out your money on such finery for me, that you forgot how low we are in the world, and how many things we are in want of at this present, and shall be in want of before the winter be over. Paddy had little heed of what poor Jenny said; and, to cut a long story short, he got her to promise to dress herself for the party, and to the party she went. She didn't come home till very late, and a great account she gave of how fine every one was. Herself was the plainest amongst them; but by what Mrs Strypes told us afterwards, none became their dress like her. There were ever so many bachelors, clerks, and 'prentices, mostly all as smart as could be. You'd take them for gentlemen, Jenny said, only for the voice and speech. The next morning, as I was getting the breakfast, who should come in but our poor lodger, with his arm all fractured: it was only the small bone of it, however, as the surgeon said. So, after it was set, he could go about with it in a sling, but not a hand's turn could he do at the factory for the present; so he kept in his own little room with his books and his papers. One evening he called me in, and, says he,

'I am out of work now, as you see, and no man can foresee what may happen to him; so here is the rent for the quarter; it is better for you to have it secure.' 'Sure, it's time enough to pay it when it comes due,' said I; maybe you might have occasion for the money, now you are disabled.'

Never mind that,' said he; I know how to want as well as any body.'

And, indeed, from that time we noticed that it's little victuals he used, barring the bit of bread and the cup of coffee. He'd never willingly be without the coffee.

The next Saturday, just when Jenny had returned from the factory, in comes a messenger from Mrs Strypes, wanting her over in all haste. Well, she went, sure; and in about half an hour back she comes, quite red and scared like.

Mother,' said she, I don't know what to make of Mrs Strypes. Would you believe it? there she had a beautiful new bonnet, trimmed and all, and a shawl worth a guinea, at the very least, ready for me to wear to-morrow going to chapel. It was all I could do to get away without her forcing them on me; and who do you think paid for them? why, that very gentleman who danced with me the other night.' And why would he be buying such things for you?' said I, all amazed. Indeed, mother,' said she, that is more than I can tell; Mrs Strypes says it was only out of civility and good nature, and that he often does such things when he hears of a well-behaved industrious poor girl. But for all that, I don't like it, and on no account would I accept of a thing when I was not sure of the intention it was offered with. You are quite right there, Jenny,' says I; better go in rags all the days of your life, than have it in people's power to tax you with taking presents from gentlemen; but if he be a gentleman, what business had he there, dancing with the like of you?' Mrs Strypes says gentlemen often do such things for diversion,' said Jenny. Any way it's queer, isn't it?' said I, turning to Mr Blake, who was sitting by the fire. Not so very queer neither, Mrs Gallagher,' says he, smiling; you would not find many young gentlemen, I fancy, who would object to dance with the like of her. I should say more on this subject, only that I see your daughter is so well guarded by prudence and modesty, that all warnings are needless.'

All this while we were getting lower and lower in the world, and it was my wonder that Paddy, who was so ready with his money when no one was asking for it, should never offer us a penny now in our distress, and the rent coming upon us along with every thing else. I believe I mentioned that our lodger had paid the quarter before it came due; so, as Jenny was always at me to be saving, I gave her the note to keep; but when our landlady came hagging at us about the rent, I said, Hand over that pound, Jenny, it will help to keep her quiet for a while. With that she fetches it out, and gives it to her father. Never mind going down with it now,' says Paddy, keep it till to-morrow, and I will make it thirty shillings.' You may be sure we weren't sorry to hear that; so Christy put the note in his pocket for the night. I called to them as they were going out in the morning not to forget the rent. Never fear," said Paddy, 'we'll settle it.'

Well, it might be about five in the evening, and Jenny not yet come back from the factory, when in comes Paddy, out of breath, and looking quite wild like. W'ere's Jenny?' says he; here's fine work, and if she can't explain it, we are all ruined.' For the love of mercy,' says I, what is the matter at all, or what do you mean?' Matter enough,' says he; there's Christy going to be taken up for passing a forged note.' With that I gave a great screech, and it was well but I fell out of my standing.'Ay, indeed,' said Paddy; and it was from Jenny he got that same note, and that's the reason I want to see her.' Just as he spoke, there comes a tap at the

·

door, and in walks Mrs Strypes. Here's the lady,' says Paddy, to whom Christy gave the note, along with my ten shillings, in exchange for a thirty-shilling Bank of Ireland, because our landlady is scruplesome of taking any other these times.' 'Well,' said Mrs Strypes, speaking very easy like, what does Miss Jenny say to this business? She can explain it, I hope ? She's not come in as yet,' said Paddy: then turning to me- Hadn't you best step out, and see is there any sign of her.' Well, out I goes as fast as my poor trembling feet could carry me, and before I had gone half-way down the street, I met Jenny. I stopped her, and told her all: she grew as pale as death, and-" Mother,' said she, 'sure it is not possible Mr Blake could play us such a trick.' Home she runs as for the bare life, and I as fast as I could after her. When I came in, Mrs Strypes was pulling the note out of her pocket to show it to Jenny. But the minute the girl cast her eyes on it-This is not the note you got from my father,' said she. Indeed but it is, miss,' said the woman; I have witnesses who were present when he gave it, who can prove it; and besides, I made him put his mark upon it, for it seems he can't write.' 'Oh, then, this is not the note I gave him,' said Jenny, 'I could swear to that, for I put my own private mark upon it. Oh, what shall I do? What can I do?' 'I'll tell you what, Miss Jenny,' says Mrs Strypes, I don't know how it is between you and your father, but I'd be sorry to hurt either of you, for I have a great regard for you, though you didn't seem to take my kindness in good part. But as to this affair, I'm willing to let the matter drop, upon condition that you make me a reasonable compliment in return.' And what compliment can I make you, ma'am? says Jenny. Four or five pounds will do,' says she. Four or five pounds, Mrs Strypes!' says Jenny. Why, ma'am, you must be laughing at me. You know, as well as I do, that you might as well ask me for five hundred.* 'Not if you will be guided by me, miss,' says she. There is a check for twenty pounds drawn in your favour, now lying in my house, and you can have the money to-morrow, if you choose to present it.' In my favour, Mrs Strypes! said Jenny; what can you mean? Why, I mean that the gentleman you treated so uncivilly, in return for his kindness, understanding you were in distress, left it for your benefit, and that of your family.' And how am I to repay him? By selling myself? Oh, I see it all now. But that I will never do-no, never.' 'Just as you like, miss,' said Mrs Strypes; but, in the mean time, your father must go to jail before night, unless you can clear him and acknowledge the note, and then it's you must be accountable."

6

'Well,' said Jenny, I know what I'll do-I'll ask Mr Blake's advice.' So she goes and taps at Blake's door, when, to Paddy's surprise, it was opened, and Jenny begins to tell her story-But,' says Blake, you needn't, Miss Jenny, for I know all about it, and more, perhaps, than you do yourself,'

Then in he comes, as proud and as stern as you please, and walks up to Mrs Strypes, and- Madam,' says he, 'perhaps you are not aware that I heard every word of the conversation you held with that person there (pointing to Paddy) during Mrs Gallagher's absence, and am acquainted with your infamous plot to criminate an innocent man, and delude a virtuous girl; to all which I am ready to make oath in any court of justice. As to you, sir, you are, to the best of my belief, guilty of a felony: but, on account of your connexion with this family, I am unwilling to expose you, and I am satisfied to let the matter drop, provided your brother's innocence be distinctly acknowledged, and the good note returned.'

Well, you never in all your life saw two people look so confounded as Paddy and Mrs Strypes did at this speech: at last she plucked up courage, and, said she, I'd be glad to know what business you have to meddle in this affair? or who would mind the word of a vagabond, come from the Lord knows where?' Madam,' says he, 'I am a foreigner, it is true, but I am known to people of respectability in town, and have a character that, I will venture to say, will bear the strictest investigation. You know best whether you can say the same for yourself. I am ready to go with you, and the poor man whom you have detained upon false pretences, before a magistrate this minute.' Upon this she quailed a little, and, says she, There must be some mistake in the business. That gentleman there (pointing to Paddy) must explain it. I completely cleared, I'll go back and have him discharged am no ways accountable; but as I find Mr Gallagher is immediately.' And I will take the liberty of accompanying you, to see it done,' says Blake.

So away they went, leaving myself and Jenny so amazed at what had passed, that we didn't know rightly whether we were dreaming or no. In about half an hour, back comes Mr Blake, bringing my poor husband along with him.

With the joy of getting him safe again, we couldn't keep from crying; and if we didn't bless and pray for our lodger, it's a wonder, though how he came to manage it so clever, and he a stranger, we couldn't make out. Then he informed us that, sitting quite quiet with his books and papers, he could not but hear what Paddy and Mrs Strypes said when I was out, they all the time supposing him not at home, because he had locked his door and taken the key out, that the children might not disturb him. He heard Mrs Strypes ask Paddy how he contrived to change the one note for the other, when Paddy told her he had watched till Christy was asleep, and then did it. It is clear he is a villain-begging your pardon for saying so of a relation,' says Blake; and I would recommend you never again to let him enter your door.' We were ready enough to agree to this; but he had done for my poor husband already. Christy took to his bed that night, saying that, what with the fright, and what with the ungrateful behaviour of his brother, his heart was quite broke.

Mr Blake saw he had taken the fever, and said we must have a doctor for him. But how do you think,' says I, that I can pay a doctor, when sorrow a pound I have but that's to go for the rent?' 'Don't distress your self about that,' said he, opening his hand and showing

me a note in it; here is a ten-pound note I got from the owner of the factory for a little invention of mine-a new way of stamping linen. That's what I used to be poring over in my little room. This will pay for the doctor.' So he brought one to see my poor Christy; but it was all to no good, for he sank daily, and soon died, telling me with his last breath that God would yet raise up friends for me. And that was true of Blake, for he both paid the doctor and got poor Christy buried. I could not but wonder, sure, at his goodness, and he a stranger; but mistrusted in my own mind it was not all on my account.

The very day after her father was buried, Jenny said, 'Mother, I must not be indulging my grief; I must go back to my work, and strive to support the family, for now we have no other dependence.' And back she went, though she was so weak she could hardly crawl. I did my best with the spinnin'; and with the sale of some of our little furniture, we contrived to weather it out till spring.

In the mean time, however, Mr Sunkins, a young man at the factory, made an offer to marry Jenny, but this she would on no account hear of. Oh Jenny,' says I, what's this for? Are you going to be a trouble to me now for the first time in your life? But I see how it is-you are hankering after them that's not able to maintain you.'Mother,' said she, I'll never deny it; Mr Blake has gained my good will, and I am sure he did enough to deserve it. In my mind, one who earns his bread by honest industry, and never spends his earnings in vice or folly; who, if any accident should reduce him to poverty, would rather live on bread and water than get into debt, and be the cause of loss to others; who, when fortune or his own ingenuity throws a little matter in his way, instead of spending it on his own pleasures, is ready to share it with his friends in their distress; and above all, one who attends strictly to his religious duties, and has the good word and regard of his clergy-this is what I call a person worth caring for, and is what our lodger has proved himself to be."

And what do you know against the other?' said I. Why, mother,' said she, it's but a bad return for the young man's partiality to me to seek out faults in him; but I must just remind you that though he does not get downright drunk, I believe he seldom goes to bed perfectly sober. If I married him for the sake of his salary, I might be in a bad way after all, for I am sure we have seen enough of the consequences of drinking.'

Well, this was always the way with Jenny and me; she had so much to say, and so sensible seemingly, that I did not know what to answer her; but, says I, at last, "You don't consider, Jenny, that this Blake is a stranger. We neither know what he is nor where he came from. He might pass any thing upon us.'

He couldn't pass himself for honest and sober if he were not so,' said she; we should have found him out before now. As to the rest, I will make him give an account of himself this very evening, if you will please to hear him.' And, indeed, just as we had finished our supper, he taps at the door. Mrs Gallagher,' says he, sitting down by the fire, I suppose Jenny has told you what my wishes are-may I hope for your approbation and consent? I am informed that your daughter has had more advantageous offers, but she has been kind enough to give me hopes that the strength and sincerity of my attachment may prevail. What I want in wealth I will strive to make up by industry; and until my powers of body and mind fail, she shall never know want." entirely obliged to you, Mr Blake,' says I; and I never can forget your goodness to us in our distress. But you are from foreign parts, sir, and how do I know where you would be taking my poor girl to?" "Your doubts are very natural, madam,' said he, and I will satisfy you immediately by relating my history, of which I have no reason to be ashamed.'

• I'm

Then he begins and tells a long story. Myself can't repeat the half of it; but this was the sense of it at any

rate :

His father lived in Cork, where he used to be carrying on a little dealing. Then he took it in his head to go to a place they call Portugal, where he married a woman of the country that had some money, and was doing mighty well, still keeping business going; at last his wife died, leaving him with but one child, and that was our lodger. He never married again; but he and his son lived together quiet and easy, till a new king came in that country. Myself doesn't know what sort of a queer king he was at all, at all; he'd be putting the people in ail, not for any bad thing they would do, robbing or murdering, or the like, but just because he'd mislike the colour of their clothes, and because one that had a spite against Mr Blake (that is the father of our lodger) went and reported that he saw him in a white hat, or coat; then was the poor fellow clapped up in prison before you could look about you; and along with that, they took his little property from him, making out he was plotting again the king.

When the father was taken up, he sent a message privately to the son, bidding him make off with all speed to England, to some friends he had there, to get them to speak for him to the king, or his people, to let him out; but the son wasn't passing a week in London, when news came that, what with the vexation and the bad usage he got, the poor father had died in the prison. The son was like one distracted when he heard it. He took sick with the grief; and the sickness, and the living in that dear place, wasted his little substance. Then he bethought him that there was a merchant living in Dublin that owed his father some money, and that if he could recover it, it would be a great thing. So over he comes; but, as ill luck would have it, the merchant was not at home; he had gone on a voyage some place, but was expected back soon; so the poor boy kept on from month to month, still on the lock-out for him, till his money getting scareer and scarcer, he was fain to take up his lodging in our poor place.

When he had finished his history, he said, 'I don't want you to take all this on my word: that would not

be reasonable; but Father Ryan will certify the truth of my story, and give you his opinion as to whether I am a fit person to be trusted with your daughter or not.' Well, the next day, sure, I went to the priest and asked his advice in regard to Jenny.

'My advice to you, Mrs Gallagher,' said he, 'is, that you put no obstacle in the way of this marriage. The young people love one another; Blake is sober and honest. I will be responsible for the truth of his story; and it is my firm opinion that you will never have reason to repent of bestowing your daughter upon him.'.

'I will never go past your reverence's word,' said I; 'I'll not be their hinderance'

From that time, our lodger gave us no peace till the day was fixed for the wedding. When Jenny was getting ready to go to the chapel, I got out the white frock for her, thinking she'd wear it.'

'Put it up, mother,' said she, for Antonio (that is Blake's name, and a queer name it is) can't abide the sight

of it.'

So it was in the old cotton she was married. Well, I couldn't but fret, sure, in my own mind, to think of the poor place and poor entertainment I had for my son-inlaw. It poured as if the skies would fall all that morning. So, when the priest had finished, I went to the chapel door to see was there any chance of the rain getting lighter, when Blake followed me. 'Mother,' said he, 'don't go yet, there is a coach coming to take us home.'

Well, I was delicate, sure, in saying any thing, but I couldn't but wonder in my own mind that he'd be spending his money on a coach, and we so poor, sure enough; however, up drives a hackney-coach, and in he makes us go, myself and Jenny, and our landlady's daughter, who was bridesmaid. Myself, not being used to the coach, didn't mind what way it was going, and Jenny was too confused to take notice; but, says the girl, popping her head out of the window, We are going wrong, Mr Blake.'

'Never mind,' says he, we shall come right at last.' Well, what does the hackney man do at last, but draw up at the door of a respectable-looking house. Blake opens the coach door, and out he jumps, and makes us all alight, and go into a snug little parlour. Then he goes over to Jenny and kisses her, bidding her welcome to her new lodging, and the same to us all. Jenny and I looked at him, not knowing what to make of it, but thought, sure, it was some joke.I see you are all amazed," said he, "and think me half mad; but I hope to convince you that I am in my sober senses; that is,' said he, smiling, as far as a man can be, who is so much in love."

When I told you my history, I told you nothing but the truth, but I did not tell you the whole truth. That I reserved for the present moment. About a month ago, a letter arrived from Portugal, from a dear friend of my father's, who had been with him in the prison, and who was only just then released. This gentleman informed me that my father called him to his bedside a little before he died, and told him, as a great secret, that the king had not got all his property, as was supposed, for that some months before he was taken up, suspecting how things might turn out, he had exchanged the half of his property for gold, and when the troubles came, he had buried it in a private place in his garden, keeping it a secret from me, because he knew, by the love I bore him, I would have given up every thing to procure his release. Then my father gave directions how to find the treasure; and the first thing the gentleman did when he got out, was to seek for it, and get it remitted to England, and not till it was safe did he tell me a word about it; and then, I must own, I was glad to keep the secret, that I might prove to my friends (for as to myself I had no doubts) that my Jenny preferred me for my own sake, and not for that of my wealth.'

Then Blake told us that the money amounted to seven thousand pounds-no less, I assure you. I could hardly believe my ears when I heard such a sum mentioned. As for Jenny, I really believe she thought more of the compliment he paid her in choosing her, than of the money itself. I asked him how he came to think of one so much beneath him.

'Except in regard to fortune, which is no great matter in my mind,' said he, Jenny is in no respect beneath me. Though my father got on so well in the world, he was nothing more than the son of a man who kept a little shop in a back lane in Cork. Jenny is descended from an honest and respectable farmer's family; and as to education, if I had not seen something in her superior to the generality of girls in her station, I should never have attached myself to her, not withstanding her beauty, which was, I own, what first attracted me. sweetness and modesty in her look, and such remarkable propriety in her manner and behaviour, that I was led to observe her more closely. After I came to lodge with you, I saw her well tried, and had the best opportunities of judging of her sense, temper, and discretion; so I thought I should be happy if I could obtain such a girl for a wife. My father's opinion, too, had great weight with me, for he always said that no country could exceed Ireland for

the correct behaviour of the women.'

I observed such

Well, I couldn't sleep that night for the joy and wonder at all I heard. The next day, Antonio told me that his plan was to settle himself at Cork, where there was a friend of his father's in a very safe way of business, who would be glad to have him for a partner, on account that he had such insight into the ways of foreigners, for it was with that same Portugal the man would be dealing.

'As to yourself, mother,' said he, I'll tell you what Jenny and I have settled, if it be agreeable to you. I believe you will not be sorry to quit Dublin. Father Ryan, our priest, has some land in a quiet retired part of Connaught, and he has promised to let you have a few acres at a reasonable rent; there is a cottage and out-houses on the land; and as both your father and husband were farmers, I think you must have sufficient knowledge to manage a small concern, particularly as the priest's father, who lives in the neighbourhood, and who is a skilful farmer, will give you his advice, and will plough your ground for you for a reasonable allowance.'

'Mother,' said she, how can I ever be thankful enough to Heaven for all the blessings I enjoy! The having you so comfortably settled is one of my greatest causes of happiness.'

Well, I stayed a fortnight with her, and then came back to my own place, where Tommy, and little Kitty, and myself, live as snug and cosy as you could wish to

see.

"Indeed," said Mrs Weston, when Nancy had finished her long story, "I am heartily rejoiced at the happy termination of your troubles, which is more peculiarly gratifying to me, because I think it may be in a great measure ascribed to the good conduct of my favourite and pupil, Jenny. Virtue does not often meet with the reward of so much temporal prosperity; but the favour of Heaven, and that peace of mind which the world can neither give nor take away, it is ever sure of obtaining."

BIOGRAPHIC SKETCHES.

M. THIERS.

M. THIERS, the present Prime Minister of France, like many other great and estimable individuals, has the merit of having raised himself from an humble origin to the eminence which he now enjoys. On coming into the world, as has been observed by a French writer, M. Thiers was not cradled on the knees of a duchess. On the contrary, he was ushered into existence in the humble abode of a locksmith, who was his father, in the city of Marseilles, on the 16th of April 1797. His mother belonged to an old commercial family, which, in the vicissitudes of the time, had fallen into extreme poverty. The events of a career which could raise the young Louis-Adolphe, in his 39th year, to the highest station in his native country, might be expected to be remarkable, and yet, for the purposes of the biographer, they are sufficiently ordinary. The causes of so rapid an advancement lie more in those commanding and very rare qualities which fit a man for a great party leader, than in striking or even tangible facts. Still the circumstances enabling him to develop those qualities must, it may be supposed, have many instructive if not romantic features, and such as they are, we shall endeavour to describe them.

In early boyhood, the relatives of M. Thiers's mother procured him a bursary in the Imperial Lyceum of Marseilles, where he received all the early part of his education. He is reported to have achieved many victories over his young competitors before the year 1815, when he proceeded to Aix for the purpose of pursuing the study of the law. There he met another youth of such parentage as his own, who had recently emerged from the Lyceum of Avignon, with whom he formed an intimacy, which, being founded on those mental sympathies calculated for endurance, has, to the honour and advantage of both parties, continued unabated to the present time. We allude to M. Mignet, whose name is celebrated as a more concise historian of the same great event which has exercised M. Thiers's talents. It would appear that the two friends, giving themselves up with ardour to the study of literature, philosophy, and history, treasured up little more of the Digest and the Civil Code than enabled them to pass their examinations. But Thiers, already evincing an impetuous and aspiring spirit, was likewise the leader of a party amongst his fellowstudents, and provoked the frowns of the professors by his tirades against the government of the Restora