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seems to be for men of schemes and theories. There
were no fewer than three present on this occasion,
including the famous socialist, who think it only ne-
cessary to divide mankind into parcels of two thou- |
sand, in order to make them all that they ought to
be. This is the more remarkable, as the association,
consisting chiefly of men of physical science, seems to
be a most unfavourable field for any who contemplate
what is not capable of immediate practical demon-
stration.

and therefore no more than prepared for the ordinary
rates of expenditure in this comparatively affluent
country. It must obviously be no inviting circum-
stance in the eyes of a Berlin or Copenhagen professor,
that his colleague, on attending the association at Glas-
gow, paid from ten to twenty shillings for every night's
lodging. For the convenience of the strangers, the
tickets of admission given out at the Hospital contained
on the obverse a neatly engraved plan of the city, on
which were marked, in various colours, the places where
the business of the association was to be carried on, The members, on entering, had been supplied with
while below was appended a list of places usually visited a printed programme of the day's proceedings. Those,
by strangers, and of the various banking offices. A therefore, who were interested in more than one de-
reading-room of noble proportions, in the Exchange, partment of science, were able to decide which section
was here marked as free to the strangers of the asso- they should attend, according as the papers to be first
ciation during the week of the meetings. One or two read in each were to them of an attractive character.
other places were free; but we heard it remarked with There was at first a rush to the section of mathematics
surprise by members of the association, that none of and general physics, from its being held out that Sir
the great factories were thrown open to them, as had John Herschel should there open the proceedings by
been done at Newcastle and other places, though no reading a report of some recent observations in mag-
doubt admittance would be granted, as usual, on par- netism; but it was soon ascertained that Sir John had
ticular applications being made. Still farther to guide not arrived, and the superfluous attendance on this
strangers through the city, placards were stuck upon section was therefore quickly reduced. It may readily
the corners of almost every street, with the words, be supposed, that for the first day in particular, and
"To the College," "To the Green," &c., the direction in some degree throughout the whole meeting, the
being marked by arrows. Thus, the necessity of ask-personnel of the association was what chiefly attracted
ing one's way was, by a very simple process, com-
pletely obviated.

the multitude. Finding that, in this respect, the
geological section was peculiarly rich, many went
thither, and there certainly was no ground for their
being disappointed, for the very first men of the
science were present. This section met in a large
class-room, containing an elevated bench along the
side wall, with forms ranged below, and, opposite the
bench, black boards for demonstrations, while various
large sheets, containing geological plans, maps, sections,
and organic figures, were slung from ropes on each
side, full in the view of the audience. The president
and his committee occupied the elevated bench. There
was Dr Buckland, a little clerical-looking man, with
a round bald head and pale and somewhat massive

Next morning, "To the College" was the general impulse. Here the seven sections into which the association is divided were to hold their meetings in the various class-rooms, every day for a week, the hour of assembly being eleven. The college is a fine | old suite of buildings, composed of several dingy but venerable courts, and situated in the more ancient quarter of the city. Its front, towards the High Street, is a very handsome façade of the time of the Commonwealth, with an arched portal in the centre, surmounted by the Scottish arms as borne in the reign of Charles II. The day was fine, and by ten o'clock the streets near the College, usually full of the work-features: there was Mr Lyell, a comparatively young ing population alone, were seen thronged with groups of ladies and gentlemen moving towards the place of meeting. The wonderment of the squalid denizens of these streets at the unwonted figures mingling amongst them, was not the least interesting feature of the affair. At the head of every dusky alley, and at every shop door, along the High Street, stood a group of dirty women, with and without children in their arms, speculating on persons and things the most remote from the ordinary current of their ideas. The entrance to the College was beset by a larger group of a similar description, which lasted the whole week, and through which the police found it difficult to make

man, with light and long brown hair, sparkling blue
eyes, deep set beneath a prominent knowing region, and
a chin of uncommon depth and prominence wearing
a brown surtout, and frequently using an eye-glass
suspended from his neck. Mr De la Beche was also
present, but we did not become acquainted with his
figure. Near the president, Mr Greenough was usually
placed, an elderly gentleman of fair complexion and
prepossessing aspect. Mr Philips, a light middle-aged
man, in duck trousers and a black coat, usually took
a position near the black board. A day or two after-
wards, we found Mr Murchison added to this goodly
assemblage: the author of the Silurian System is a

avenues for the approach of the members and their tall military-looking man, of dark complexion and
lady friends. Every window near the College also handsome aquiline features. Near the end of the
contained its knot of gazers, all evidently full of ex-week came M. Agassiz, a good-looking neatly dressed
citement respecting this singular congregation of the man of about thirty-two or three, with dark eyes, and
wise and learned. Within the courts were now cheeks more plump and rubicund than one usually
gathered troops of members, with their female asso- expects in a student: he spoke in the French lan-
ciates, some appearing with the anxious and abstracted guage, though not altogether unable to express himself
air of men who had to take part in the proceedings, in English. Some native geologists, of rising character,
others looking as men who have only met to be amused as Mr Maclaren and Mr Milne of Edinburgh, and Mr
and entertained. Old acquaintances were seen greet- Smith of Jordanhill, added to the attractiveness of
ing each other in the hearty manner of people who this section, which formed altogether an amusing com-
have long been apart; and many were seen under-mentary on the allegation of the newspaper above al-
going the stiffer ceremony of being introduced to new
friends. The miscellaneous character of most of the
assemblages was striking. There were, in the first
place, well-dressed English gentlemen in large pro-
portion. There were more familiar figures of native
merchants, manufacturers, physicians, and other pro
fessional persons. Country clergyinen were there, in
dark attire of homely cut, with rustier figures still
cf schoolmasters and "tutors." A few anomalous
fgures were scattered throughout, as an Asiatic in
is proper costume, a moustached and long-haired
German, or an eccentric native wearing his hair or
his clothes in some fantastic fashion. Then there
were gaily dressed Glasgow ladies, spectacled and un-
spectacled, all on the outlook for "the lions," par
ticularly for their old friend Dr Chalmers. Add to
these a few London reporters, with the bustling de-
meanour and knowing aspect of their class. These
who knew many of the company by sight, were able
to recognise various persons remarkable for their
schemes as to human improvement-for example, Mr
Robert Owen, who carried a new world packed up in
a roll of brown paper, and was looking, as usual, the
most practical and plausible of men. It is remark-
able, by the way, how very attractive the association

though disappointed of the presence of Sir John Herschel, had brought together some eminent persons. We readily recognised Sir David Brewster, with his conspicuous white hair and saturnine complexion, still looking very healthy and active. Here also was Sir Thomas Macdougal Brisbane, who, for the sake of astronomical observation in a southern latitude, accepted the office of governor of New South Wales, where he accordingly reared an observatory, and pursued scientific investigations for some years. Sir Thomas, who is president of the Royal Society of Edinburgh, is a stout gentlemanly figure, of mild and prepossessing appearance. The rough aspect and powerful knowing organs of Mr Whewell were conspicuous in this section, as also the slender figure and lively nervous temperament of the youthful Professor Forbes. We unfortunately did not ascertain the bodily form of Major Sabine, nor that of Professor Airey, both of whom, however. were present. At a later period, this section was graced by the presence of Professor Encke of Berlin, the discoverer of the well-known comet of quick rotation, which, as Professor Airey elegantly remarked, "bears his name in every mouth but his own." In the section of Botany and Zoology, Dr Fleming, Sir William Hooker, and Sir William Jardine, were the most eminent figures. In that of Chemistry and Mineralogy, the chief persons were Dr Thomson of the Glasgow University, and Mr Johnston, a young but active and acute professor in the new University of Durham. The Medical Section was graced by the presence of Sir Charles Bell and Dr Abercrombie. The discoverer of the duplicity of the nerves is a short, elderly man, of pale complexion, with a strikingly active and enterprising aspect. The author of the agreeable work on the intellectual powers is also a short man, but of dark complexion and full massive face, and with a head of splendid proportions. We were little in the Mechanical Section, but found it presided over by Sir John Robison, a gentleman who, if he had no merits of his own, would be regarded with respect as the son of the author of the best treatise we have on Mechanical Philosophy, the late ingenious and extensively informed Professor Robison of Edinburgh. In this section we also found Mr Scott Russell, so well known for his experiments on the sailtical mechanist, who, we have been told, has a large ing of vessels; Mr Whitworth of Manchester, a pracfactory solely devoted to the making of his own inventions; Mr Fairbairn, also a most distinguished mechanist of Manchester; and M. Ardseer Cursetjee, an engineer in the service of the East India Company. The person last mentioned is a native of India, of dark complexion, and wearing his country's pieturesque garb. In the Statistical Section, Lord Sandon, Colonel Sykes, and Mr Felkin, stood pre-eminent amongst the strangers; from Edinburgh had come Dr Chalmers and Dr Alison, charged with their opposite views on the poor-law question; while Glasgow contributed some most pains-taking and Miller, the superintendant of the city police, and Mr serviceable statists of its own, as Dr Cowan, Mr Watt-Dr Cleland being, we believe, absent from illness. It may here be mentioned, that a Phrenological Section, unconnected with the Association, met in another part of the town, and was attended by Mr Combe, Mr Simpson, Mr Deville, of London, and some other eminent cultivators of the new philosophy.

This brings us to observe one thing as specially remarkable at the sectional meetings, namely, that luded to, that none but quacks now attend the British amongst those assembled there was a much greater Association, the fact being that not one man of first-proportion of intellectual-looking heads than there is rate character in geological science was here wanting, looking heads, we of course mean heads of such size ever seen in ordinary assemblies. By intellectualexcept Mr Sedgewick, who was, by his own declara- and elevation as the simplest experience, not to speak tion, only prevented from attending by strict pro- of any thing in the shape of a science, shows to be fessional duty. The president of the section was the usually accompaniments of superior ability. In the Marquis of Northampton, a person not merely ornaassemblies where others were admitted besides memmental, but who on various occasions showed himself heads was very obvious. There was some interest for bers of the association, the smaller proportion of fina well acquainted with the science, as might be exa stranger in casting his eye over the crowd, and repected, indeed, from one who holds the distinguished flecting on the quantity of mental power represented situation of President of the Royal Society. The by those heads, and in considering, respecting any Marquis is an elderly man, of a dark wiry com- particular one whose owner was unknown to him, that plexion, and dressed very plainly in a long blue sur- fame. It was impossible to look around on such an possibly it had gained for its owner a wide-extended tout. We occasionally observed in this section the assembly with any thing like indifference, or to form Duke of Hamilton and the Marquis of Breadalbane, a depreciatory idea of any one person present; for who suggesting the idea of rank gladly coming to learn at could tell what cumulative greatness might be in the the feet of science. Rank was here indeed confounded. room at the moment, or how much might belong to The Duke of Argyll was content (and how honourable the moment fixed? We might think, respecting some any particular individual on whom the eye was for such contentment !) to hold a subordinate office in the one, that certainly the aspect was unimpressive and mechanical section. We saw his grace come forward the figure uncouth, and next moment we might be one day in the geological section, and communicate told that that person was the celebrated Mr or Dr some information on a debated point, preceded and such-a-one, a man whose writings we had been accusfollowed in the debate by men of various grades in life Nor do we here alone regard men of fame, or those tomed for years to read with reverence and delight. between the distinguished and the simply respectable. who may be enumerated in newspapers to create effect The section of Mathematics and General Physics, at a distance. To us there is something still more

interesting in reflecting on the many unknown and obscure individuals, who read, and observe, and pursue investigations in remote and unfavourable situations, but are perhaps forbidden by stringent circumstances from making a display before the world. To think of these solitary and ill-starred students coming forth from their solitudes to pass a week amidst those persons whom they are accustomed distantly to venerate, and in that atmosphere in which they would wish, but vainly wish, to spend their whole life, presents, we think, a more affecting view of a meeting of the British Association than almost any other idea connected with it. We felt this very deeply, and could not help saying to ourselves, as we beheld the many nameless persons who came as humble disciples to this shrine of science, that verily, even though the greatest masters had been, as was alleged, wanting, the association would have been doing good, in only bringing these modest individuals together, and giving them one week's taste of a life of science, apart from the soul-depressing cares in which they are usually involved.

We here conclude our superficial glance at the external features of the Glasgow meeting. Our next paper will contain a condensed view of a particular department of the proceedings.

A ROMANCE OF REALITY.

In the town of Havre-de-Grace, not many years ago, there lived an aged couple, Monsieur and Madame Dupré. In themselves, these personages were worthy and respected, but circumstances of a remarkable and romantic nature connected with their family, rendered them objects of peculiar interest not only to their neighbours and fellow-citizens, but to all who visited the town of Havre. One of the near relatives of this venerable pair was destined to a career in life such as we shall only find a parallel to in the pages of Arabian

fiction.

Aline Dupré was born at Martinique in the year 1763. Her father possessed one of the best estates on the island, and spared no pains or expense in educating his daughter, whose rare natural qualities, both of person and mind, well merited the most careful development. At the age of fourteen, when womanly charms are almost matured in that clime, Aline was the pride of her family, and the admiration of the upper circles of the colony. In private society no one surpassed her in vivacity of spirit; in the ball-room, the graces of her person and movements were unrivalled; and she possessed musical talents well fitted to enhance and complete the impression made by her appearance and address. Such was Aline Dupré, when an unforeseen accident gave a sudden turn to her prospects and fortunes. Excited by oppression, real or imaginary, a numerous band of negroes made their escape from their masters, and spread the most serious alarm over the whole island. Profiting by the scantiness of the military force stationed there at the time, these runaways committed various outrages, and made threatening demonstrations at many different points, calling every where upon their fellow slaves to join their standard. None of the negroes in the employ of M. Dupré had acceded to the insurgent band, but the station of that gentleman, and the high opinion entertained of his talents and activity, caused him to be pitched upon as the leader of the militia raised for the suppression of the mutineers. M. Dupré fulfilled with energy and success the duty intrusted to him. The fugitives were surrounded and captured, but only after a desperate struggle, in which M. Dupré received a mortal injury. He survived it long enough to permit him to receive from France the Cross of St Louis, which the governor of the colony, the Marquis de Bouillé, had requested for him. Soon after receiving this reward, M. Dupré died, recommending, with his last breath, his daughter Aline and his only son to the care of the governor.

tending to land on the western coast of France, reached
the straits of Gibraltar in safety. Soon afterwards,
however, when the passengers, attracted by the beauty
of the evening in that latitude, had assembled in a
group on deck, an old negress in attendance on Aline
pointed out a dark spot on the sea at a distance.
The captain was present at the moment, and was ob-
served to grow pale as he turned his eye on the object
pointed out. But he made no remark, and the pas-
sengers retired for the night. In the morning they
found nothing but bustle and alarm on board. The
vessel was pursued by a swift-sailing Algerine corsair,
of a size which rendered it almost hopeless for a petty
merchantman to attempt any resistance. Neverthe-
less, the crew took to their arms, resolved to sell their
liberty dearly. The pirates were not long in coming
up and boarding, and, as might have been anticipated,
soon overpowered all opposition. Aline had kept close
by the side of her brother, determined to perish with
him if he fell; and when the capture took place, she
was bound with him in the same chain. This asso-
ciation greatly lightened their sufferings on the occa-
sion, but it did not last long. When the corsair
reached the port of Algiers, an order was issued for
the conveyance of all the male prisoners ashore, and
the retention of the females. The language spoken
around her was unintelligible to Aline, but she soon
became sensible of the intended separation. Her
agony was dreadful at the moment; the past mishap
seemed to her insignificant in comparison with this
crowning ill. She fell on her knees before the bar-
barians of the vessel, and used every entreaty, by
words and gestures, which might have a chance of
moving them to permit her accompanying her
brother. Her tears and imploring looks fully ex-
pressed the meaning which her language could not
convey, but they were totally disregarded, and her
brother was carried off with his companions. All
hope seemed to depart with him, and Aline fell down
in a swoon.

her brother. But she remembered, and shuddered to remember, that she might become the purchased slave of some rich but obscure Turk, and might be shut out for ever from the light of day among strangers. With these thoughts in her mind, she proceeded to the presence of Achmet, and, assuming a firm and bold tone, she said, “Armenian, your fortune and mine are now in your hands. If I have observed aright, you do not confound me with these poor ignorant slaves, who have bodies, but no souls. Such as they subjugate the eyes, but not the heart. My character is different from theirs, and so will my destiny be. It will be a high one, and your fortunes shall rise with it. Introduce me to the presence of the sultan, and depend upon my eternal gratitude." Achmet seemed to be struck by these words, and the confident tone in which they were uttered. His manner assumed a semblance of respect very unusual between master and slave, and he expressed his intention to gratify the wishes of Aline if possible. Accordingly, when the vessel entered the port of Constantinople, and the party were conveyed to the house of Achmet, he showed his intentions by bringing to her one of the richest dresses to be found in the city, this being a proper preliminary step, as he thought, to the execution of her design. But Aline declined assuming the garb, and contented herself with one of the most simple kind. To his surprise, the Armenian was compelled to admit that her appearance was more captivating without than with the rich attire obtained for her.

"But do not

Though Achmet seemed thus desirous of fulfilling her wishes, day after day passed away without any notice of the approach of that event on which Aline rested every hope of procuring her brother's liberation. At last, however, Achmet announced that it was impossible for himself to introduce his beautiful slave to the presence of the sultan in any way; despond," said he, "I have sold you, along with Zara, to Isaac-Aga, son of the old chief of the royal guards. He has promised to place you in the way of seeing the Her insensibility, at least to a partial extent, was sultan." Aline at first thought that she was deceived of long continuance, every return of her powers of with false promises, but such was not the case. Isaacreflection serving only to renew her grief, and throw Aga was faithful to his word, and Aline obtained her her back into a state of lethargy, which rendered her wish. She was brought before the sultan. It is needheedless of all around her. Zara, meanwhile, the old less to linger on the issue. The skill of Aline in music negress, watched over her with incessant care. When was exerted to charm Abdul-Hamed, and not in vain. Aline regained something like composure, she found It was not long ere his passion for the accomplished herself on board of a different vessel, and again upon captive grew so deep and strong, that he made her his the open sea. Zara informed her that she had been legitimate wife; and she had also the pleasure of empurchased by an Armenian merchant, and was now bracing her brother, liberated by the sultan's orders on the way to Smyrna, whence, after taking on board from the slave-chains of Algiers. Under the title of some Circassian and Georgian captives, Achmet, as the Sultana Validé, Aline outlived Abdul-Hamed, to the merchant was called, intended to proceed to Con- whom she bore the Sultan Mahmoud, father of the stantinople. Zara likewise added, that Achmet seemed present youthful sultan, and but recently deceased. to take a strong interest in her restoration to health. Mahmoud did not immediately succeed his father, but This last piece of intelligence was any thing but lived in seclusion during the intervening reigns of pleasing to the poor captive, and her mind was 80 Selim and Mustapha. The civilised spirit of Mahmoud heavily oppressed with a foreboding dread of the fate may in part be traced to the instructions of his mother, that seemed to await her, that she resolved to escape the Sultana Validé. She discovered the retreat of her from it at the cost of life. No other way of effecting relatives in France,,,and, as has been said, sent them this object was in her power save that of starving letters, which were accompanied by magnificent preherself. For two days she maintained this determina-sents. Monsieur and Madame Dupré, the aged pair tion; and was already beginning to feel her strength described as residing at Havre-de-Grace, were her diminishing, when some proceedings on the part of uncle and aunt, and shared liberally of her bounty. Zara changed altogether the train of her thoughts. The Sultana Validé died in 1817, at the age of fiftyThe old negress, like many of her race, affected a four. power of reading the cards, or of telling fortunes, and she artfully led her languid mistress to express a wish to know what would be her brother's fate, the subject ever uppermost in her thoughts. Zara used the opportunity given to her most dexterously. Consulting the cards, she assumed, after a time, an aspect of great joy. "Your brother will yet be free and great! The cards declare it! And by you-by you shall he be saved!" The suggestion of such a possibility made an instantaneous and striking impression upon Aline, and raised in her a new train of thought. Finally, she resolved to desist from her course of abstinence, and to preserve her life, in the hope that, whatever might be her own fate, she might yet have it in her power to alleviate the sufferings of her beloved brother.

When the vessel arrived at Smyrna, it chanced that, while Achmet was getting on board his other captives, he met the French consul in society, and mentioned his having with him a beautiful slave of French descent. The consul immediately requested to see her, and, after some difficulty, this was accomplished. On seeing Aline, Monsieur L. generously offered to purchase her from the Armenian, and set her at liberty. "My brother," said Aline; "will you set him, too, at liberty?" "Alas!" said the consul, "that is not possible. How could he now be found out? The intervention of the sultan alone, I fear, could avail to discover his retreat, and procure his freedom." "The sultan !" replied Aline, and for a few moments she remained in thought. "Well," continued she at length, "I cannot, and will not, since such is the case, accept of liberty for myself." The consul pressed her to alter her resolution, but the generous girl held firmly by her purpose. The slight hope which existed of her finding in Constantinople some means of liberating the poor captive of Algiers, kept her fixed in the determination of remaining with Achmet. It seemed to her as if some secret power urged her onwards to the Turkish capital.

The Marquis de Bouillé did not neglect the charge committed to him. It had been the purpose of the late M. Dupré to return to France, where he had a small patrimonial property, and where various members of his family were settled. This intention had been partly formed with the view of completing the education of Aline and her brother, and in the hope of seeing them well established there in life. The governor of Martinique determined to fulfil the wishes of the father in this respect. Finding the young Dupré, who was a year or two older than Aline, to have an inclination for a military life, the marquis arranged that he should go to France and enter the regiment of Bouillon, while the sister was to be placed for a time in the seminary of Saint Cyr, the highest institution then existing for persons of her sex. Aline and her brother accordingly embarked in a vessel bound for France. That vessel, however, never reached its destination. Its fate remained unknown for seven years, at the end of which time a letter, containing disclosures regarding it, was received by one of the friends of the Dupré family residing in France. This individual was a young lady who had spent some years of her youth in Martinique, and had been the playmate and dear friend of the young Aline. The letter alluded to was delivered by an ambassador of a great power, and it was from his sovereign-his crowned queen. That queen was Aline Dupré! The strange vicissitudes which placed Aline in this posi-possession of her mind. Her whole chance of success tion were detailed, in the communication to her friend, nearly as follows.

The vessel which bore the brother and sister, in

[We find this romantic story told as a fact by M. Jouy, in his "Hermit in the Provinces," a work professing to detail authentic and curious matters relating to the various provinces of France. M. Jouy describes himself as receiving the present story from the lips of Monsieur and Madame Du***, who were aided in the narration by the actual letters of Aline.* If true, the story presents a parallel to that of the poor Scottish girl who became Empress of Morocco. The undeniably veracious history of the Empress Josephine, is also in several points similar to the present story.]

RETROSPECT OF A MILITARY LIFE. ONE of the most promising and gratifying characteristics of the present age, it has always struck us, is the turn for writing which has become so prevalent among military men of all orders and grades. This may certainly be looked upon, and hailed, as a fair indication that those so engaged in the service of their country no longer resemble mere machines, but are converted into thinking, observant, and intelligent beings. The general humanising of the art and practice of war is the great and main result to be expected from the cultivation of the gentle pursuits of literature by the followers of the trump and drum; and such an improvement of war must obviously be the first step to its entire extinction. There are many other advantages, of a more direct kind, derivable from the same source. The soldier and the sailor necessarily see much of the world, and the recording of their observations is an important thing both for science and commerce. From the higher grades of the service we get such comprehensive details respecting countries and nations, as are calculated to affect the interest of communities on a great scale; while the records, again, which issue from the common ranks of the service, have usually a deep and permanent value, were it but from their showing to the world what war really is to the generality of those engaged in it, and to those

But, as she sailed thither, doubts and fears took was founded on the vague possibility of her personally seeing the sultan Abdul-Hamed, or some great courtier, from whom she might beg the life and liberty of Dupré, for convenience of printing and reading. The name set down Du*** by M. Jouy, we have called

around whose homes it rages. Often, too, the common soldier can tell more, and has ability enough, as well as his superiors, to notice things of much general interest and consequence.

Another pleasing proof of the spread of a taste for literature among the British soldiery, lies before us in the shape of a "Retrospect of Military Life," by a retired sergeant of the Forty-Second Highlanders.* Mr Anton originally enlisted as a private in the militia, and volunteered into the regular service towards the close of the Peninsular war. He embarked for Spain in August 1813, landed at Passages, and, after a short march, joined the sixth division of the army of Wellington, who was then manoeuvring against Soult on the Spanish edge of the Pyrenees. Our author, previous to his volunteering, had married an amiable young woman, whom he gratefully mentions as having ungrudgingly followed his fortunes in war and in peace. There was ample occasion to try her patience in the very first few weeks of their campaigning. In the middle of October the rains fell heavily, and all that the pair had to shelter them, in the open fields, was a blanket thrown rudely on some branches, and secured, in tent-fashion, by cords and pegs. Around the tent "I had cut a trench," says our soldier, "to carry off the torrents which rushed against it from the declivity above." But the tempest blew down the frail structure on the first night of its erection, and bore the blanket where it was never seen again. "I and my trembling companion found shelter in the lee of a rock." A generous officer gave them a new blanket; and as there was a prospect of the army being for a short time stationary, the soldier set about erecting a new and more durable tent. He became, he says, a "perfect Robinson Crusoe," and laboured hard for three days, at spare hours, in digging a trench, four feet deep, to carry off the heavy rains, and in thatching his blanket with fern from the hills. As a crowning comfort, at the close of his toils, he even contrived to erect a sort of

fire-place. "The fire was lighted for the first time. I was sitting on my knapsack taking a late dinner, quite at home, with the dish on my knee, for I had no table, when the drum beat Orders.' I set down my dish (a wooden canteen, the one end of which was taken out) unfinished, attended the call, and heard that the camp was to be struck, and every thing ready to be moved off that night. I cannot express how vexed I was to leave my little habitation, my sole property, which I held by military right; but I was bound to follow my feudal superior. I had reared it at the expense of a blister on every finger, and I exulted as much over it, in secret, as the rich man in the Gospel did over his extensive possessions and his plentiful stores. On leaving the camp that night, many of the married people set fire to their huts, but I left mine with too much regret to become its incendiary; and my poor Mary shed tears as she looked back upon it, as a bower of happiness which she was leaving behind." Thus rudely was the soldier's dream of comfort dispelled!

The numberless toils and perils that attend both the soldier and the soldier's wife in service, are further shown by many anecdotes in this volume. All "free and accepted masons," from brother the grand-master to the last enrolled apprentice, will be pleased with the following incident. Our author's wife had taken charge of a little ass-colt with a couple of bundles, in kindness to another woman, when the army was passing the river Adour, by a partially broken bridge. She was alone, and got on the precarious structure after a portion of the troops had passed; "but before she got to the farther end, the stubborn animal stood still and would not move a foot. Another regiment was advancing, the passage was impeded, and what to do she knew not. She was in the act of removing the woman's bundles from the beast's back, and struggling to get out of the way, determined to leave the animal, when a grenadier of the advancing regiment, casting his eye on a finely polished horn with the masonic arms cut on it, and slung over her shoulder, stepped aside, saying, 'Poor creature, for the sake of what is slung by your side, I shall not see you left struggling there. At the same time, handing his musket to one of his comrades, he lifted the colt in his arms and carried it to the end of the bridge. My poor wife thanked him with the tear in her eye, the only acknowledgment she could make for his kindness; but she has often thought of it since, and congratulated herself on having the good fortune to have that horn, empty as it was, with its talismanic hieroglyphics, slung by her side on that occasion, and thus to raise up a friend when she was so much in need of one." Some regiments forded the river at a different place. "The wife of a sergeant of one of the regiments attempted to pass on a donkey, with a child in her arms, and owing to some sudden stumble or slip of the animal, the child gave a start and dropped into the stream; the distracted mother gave a shriek, leaped after the infant, and both were swept off by the rapid current, in the presence of the husband, who plunged into the water in hopes to recover them, but they were gone for ever, and he himself was with difficulty rescued."

Those thoughtless young lads whose fancy is caught by the well-polished shoes and glittering buckles, the waving plumes and snow-white belts, the neat tartans and the speckless scarlets, of the recruiters who walk

*W. H. Lizars, Edinburgh.

the streets at home in ease, may read with advantage the subjoined delineation of what the same individuals become after a little campaigning. The Highland regiments began (says Mr Anton) to lose their kilted honours by degrees; some fell sick, and had the kilt made into trousers; others had patches in abundance; some had the elbows of their coats mended with grey cloth; others had one half the sleeve of a different colour from the body; and so on. "But this was of minor importance when compared to the want of shoes. As our march continued daily, no time was found to repair them, until completely worn out; this left a number to march with bare feet, or, as we termed it, to pad the hoof. It is impossible to describe the painful state that some of those shoeless men were in, crippling along the way, their feet cut or torn by sharp stones or brambles. To remedy the want of shoes, the raw hides of the newly-slaughtered bullocks were given to cut up, on purpose to form a sort of buskins for the barefooted soldiers. This served as a substitute for shoes, and enabled the wearers to march in the ranks of their respective companies." In addition to these discomforts, such perils as the following were common attendants of the soldier's lot. On the field of Toulouse, "a musket-ball struck my halberd in a line with my cheek; another passed between my arm and my side, and lodged in my knapsack; another struck the handle of my sword; and a fourth passed through my bonnet and knocked it off my head. Had the last ball been two inches lower, or I that much higher, the reader would have been saved the trouble of perusing this narrative." Speaking of the morn that followed the same terrible day, the writer continues "The sun gladdens again the face of the heavens, and throws his welcome rays over the field where the wreck of two armies lies uninterred. Thus we fall, cutting off and being cut off, the slayers but not the enemies of our race. Look you to that, ye rulers of the earth! We come but to obey." To that, indeed,

the cold closet diplomatist would do well to look. His is the hand that kills; and so feels, we here see, the instrument he employs.

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rhyme-journal, he modestly says, that if some apostrophes be thought inconsistent with tasteful prose writing, "I am to blame, and humbly apologise." In conclusion, we would recommend this little unpretending volume to public notice. If there were more of our soldiery who "sat upon the green turf” at their leisure hours, and kept journals of what they saw and heard in the tented field, excesses would more rarely stain our arms, and yet not less valour be shown in a rightful cause.

A WORD ON MEDICAL REFORM. THE flourishing condition of medical quackery, as we stated on a late occasion, though mainly ascribable to the general ignorance and credulity of the people, is largely promoted by the badly regulated state of the whole medical profession. At the present moment, there exists no uniform or well-organised plan of educating, examining, and licensing practitioners for the whole united kingdom and its dependencies. The country at large is in the hands of a set of rival schools and privileged corporations, each of which lays claim to a monopoly of licensing for a particular district, and of excluding from practice in that district all who are educated and licensed elsewhere. To such a pitch is this mischievous arrangement carried, “that there are in the three kingdoms no fewer than seventeen bodies claiming chartered or statutory rights to confer degrees or diplomas, all of them differing from each other in their constitutions, all possessing the power of making by-laws for their own governance, and all in the habit of imposing different tests of the fitness of those whom they profess to admit into the medical profession."

things-the various rival associations are often at a kind of petty war with each other, to the scandal of

There are two great evils in the present state of

Shortly after the decisive action of Toulouse, our the community; and there is a complexity or mystery author and his comrades were ordered home, and about the medical character which unlearned folks finally quartered at Cork. The remarks of Mr Anton upon the Irish are brief but very judicious. cannot possibly make out. Some medical men are The following comparison of Ireland to the High-qualified to bleed and do other acts of surgery, some lands, by one who knows the latter region (his native may prescribe medicines for diseases, but not make one) well, is too interesting to be omitted. "I must up or sell the medicines, and not bleed; some may here remark, that there is rather a false idea abroad bleed, and administer medicines which they make up; respecting Irish barbarism,' as it is called. In no and some may make up and sell medicines, but not two countries of the world do the manners and customs of the rural population resemble each other more prescribe or bleed. We believe this is something like closely, perhaps, than those of the Highlands of Scot- what exists in England, but we do not profess to be land and those of Ireland. There is not a man from certain upon the point, for the whole affair is in such the north or west Highlands, and who had been a a curiously confused condition, that few know exactly resident there forty or fifty years ago, but will ac- how the matter stands. In the midst of the melée, knowledge that nothing was more rare than to hear the empiric, who cares nothing for corporations or of a country fair having passed over without blood- their charters, sets up as a compounder and vender shed or broken bones. I perfectly recollect hearing, when I was a boy, the people asking of those who of his own nostrums, thus unceremoniously lopping off were returning from the fairs of Keith, Glass, Auchin- what ought to constitute a large item in the income dore, Sliach, &c., Well, wis thir ony feghts at the of the respectable and well-educated physician. market the day? (or yesterday). If the reply was in the affirmative, the questioner rubbed his hands, scratched his shoulder or elbow, itching with delight, saying, 'Ha! that's a sign o' gude times; we'll get cheap meal this year.' But if the reply was in the negative, then no joy was expressed; on the contrary, there was some remark about hard times, or 'Gude auld times,' adding, 'Fouk's gettin ower wise now-adays; God help us, the auld spirit's broken down,' and such like observations. And the questioner, in his fretfulness at being deprived of the news of a fight, would exclaim, Fare wis the Goulds fan ther wis nae feghtin' at Glass?' or 'Fare wis the Barclays fan ther wis nae feghtin' at Sliach? and such like questions. This is still the case in Ireland, at least among the rural population; there are certain family names, noted for club-law, in the neighbourhood. But there is this difference in Scotland we had no peacepreservers to raise a 'hue and cry' of murder when there were no lives lost; cuts and bumps were thought nothing of, and gave no alarm; but in Ireland it is the very reverse: the numerous tribe of attorneys are looking out for work-blood is murder, knocking down or tripping over is killing-and the report appears next day, in some neighbouring newspaper, representing the case in the blackest colours." It is gratifying to know that all these are things fast passing away in the beautiful "Green Isle," which is now, as Scotland was fifty years ago, fairly into the path of social advancement.

We cannot follow our soldier to Waterloo, whither he was suddenly called in 1815. He gives an animated description of the fields of Quatre Bras and Waterloo, as far as they fell under his personal observation. Animation is indeed carried to poetry in some parts of the narrative, and for this the author apologises at the close, by telling us that his diary was originally in verse. "To tell the truth, I thought it poetry. But what could be supposed to proceed from the pen of one who, during his life, had been almost a stranger to books, even to a dictionary? My scribbling vein was an amusement when on guard, and it was chiefly when on guard that I did write; and I seldom lay down on the bench or green turf to sleep, but sat writing and sometimes reading." After mentioning that his prose was a transposition from his

It is not to be supposed that things can have come to this bad pass with the medical profession, without attracting the attention of those most intimately concerned in its reform. Already, most of the existing corporations have either directly petitioned the legislature for a correction of abuses, or countenanced such a step in others. The Scotch and Irish bodies have, as we believe, been most forward in the desire for an improved code of arrangements, with respect to examination and licensing. The Apothecaries' Company of England, which assumes more power and privilege than all the others put together, has presented the chief obstacle to the proposed changes. "It insists upon the right to punish Scotch or Irish medical men for practising their profession in England and Wales, while it has not the means of preventing the chemist and druggist, or mere buyer and seller of medicine, from practising all the branches of the profession. The Apothecaries' Company of Ireland is more like what it ought to be than that of England, in as far as its power merely extends over sellers and compounders of medicine; but strange also to say, in its desire for absolute monopoly, it has frequently attempted to prevent regularly educated surgeons and physicians from making up medicine and prescriptions for their own patients. Stranger still, it appears that, although all these bodies profess and pretend to so much superiority over each other, the medical student, whether he come forward with a view to practise as a physician, or surgeon, or an apothecary, must dissect in the same way, attend lectures at the same time, walk the hospitals in the same manner, read the same works upon the various subjects connected with his profession, and undergo an equally severe examination;-the only difference being, that by paying thirty or forty pounds he can be a physician [M.D.]; if he pays about twenty pounds, he can be a surgeon ; and if six or ten pounds, he can be an apothecary."+

Various plans have been suggested by the more liberally disposed bodies for a complete reformation in the system, all founded on one leading and sound principle that there should be established one re

* Memorial from the Medical Association of Ireland to the Marquis of Normanby.

↑ British and Foreign Review. July 1840.

sponsible and competent tribunal in each of the three kingdoms, without whose license and enrolment no person should be legally acknowledged as a medical man; and further, that such license should be granted in every case upon precisely similar exercises, examinations, and fees, and that it should confer equal privileges throughout the British empire. There can be no question as to the extreme desirableness of a measure of this nature. Something else, however, would be required to reach the grand evil of medical quackery, and the issuing of empirical nostrums. For this end, one or two stringent regulations would be necessary. We would recommend that every thing like patent rights in medicines should be abolished, also the practice of issuing government labels; and that no person should be allowed to deal in or sell drugs without a certificate of competency from the medical board, and an annual license from the Excise, founded on such certificate. By this means, the most remote town in the country would be as effectually protected from ignorant drugsellers as the metropolis. It is not unlikely that the only serious impediment to this species of reform in medical affairs will be of a financial nature. At present £49,000 are realised annually to the public revenue, from stamps for labels, advertisement duties, &c., connected with quack medicines; and a considerable diminution in amount might reasonably be expected. But we feel satisfied, that under a right administration of diplomas, certificates, and licenses, no real loss would be incurred. Let us, at any rate, hope that no such petty considerations will furnish an excuse for longer postponing these highly desirable improvements in our medical system.

INCIDENT FROM THE NOTE-BOOK OF A
BELGIAN TRAVELLER.

THERE is a remarkable and little-known district of
Belgium, of considerable extent, called the Campine.
It lies close upon the Dutch territory, and stretches
away from the vicinity of Antwerp towards the pro-
vince of Limbourg and southern Brabant. Campine
partakes of the character of the deltoid lands formed
beside it, from the washed-down matters of the Meuse
and Rhine. It is sandy and heathy, with scanty
capabilities either for tillage or pasturage. The people
who inhabit it are a rude and primitive race, almost
universally strong in person, though low-built, and
far from handsome. They make up for the natural
deficiencies of their district by a constant and inve-
terate pursuit of contraband trafficking. They are
the great smugglers of Belgium-at least on that side
of the country. Viewing him in his moments of re-
pose, you would say that the inhabitant of the Cam-
pine was a dull, rough boor, half-knave half-fool; but
let there come a chance and occasion for smuggling
into the Belgian interior some bales of English mer-
chandise, or boxes of Havannah cigars, or any other
similar articles, and he is instantaneously converted
into a totally different creature. His eye sparkles
with fire, and his previously gloomy brow is lighted
up with animation and intelligence; while his step,
lately hesitating and timid, becomes firm and quick,
and his whole frame seems endowed with new powers
of activity. In short, he is now in his element, and
the custom-house officer is a play-thing in his hands.
Such is the force of early habit and training; for from
generation to generation, the people of the Campine

have been what they now are.

With pursuits so unavoidably precarious, these people cannot be a wealthy or luxurious race. They are clothed very simply indeed, and fare sparingly; a sort of pap, or porridge, being their principal food, and taken by them at all hours. Such as they are, the Campinois are worthy of a little more notice from travellers than they have received hitherto. Though closely adjacent to the most civilised portions of the world, the district has been quite overlooked, chiefly, perhaps, because its aspect and character hold forth little promise of interest to the tourist. The observations now made, however, will partly show the Campinois to be really a curious race. The peasantry or villagers are the class principally marked by the characteristics referred to, but the inhabitants of the towns of Lierre, Turnhout, and Herenthals, the largest in the Campine, are tinctured with similar features. It was in the village of Gheel, lying in the interior of the district, that the following incident took place, to the relation of which the preceding remarks are merely preliminary :

I had started on foot from Turnhout at five in the morning, determined to penetrate into the interior of the country, and heedless how long I stayed there, provided my excursion was productive of interest. I had nothing of business in view; what business, indeed, could one have there! Hour after hour was spent in walking across heath after heath, till at length the sandy sameness of the country began to grow very wearisome, and I began almost to repent of having entered on a route totally unknown to me, and seem

said my new friend coolly; "don't you know that you are at Gheel?" "I was not aware of that fact." "Well, you know it now," said the jolly stranger. "And what then?" returned I, with some coldness. "What then?" was the reply; "why, whence do you come, pray-from Bengal? Don't you know that at Gheel there are more people mad than otherwise!" "Pooh! now it is you who are attempting to play upon my credulity," said I. "Not a bit of it," said my companion; "look about you." I involuntarily did as I was desired.

ingly so interminable. Ten o'clock came, and as yet of a Hercules, conjoined with the rotundity of an
I had seen little either of man or man's habitations; alderman. Never did I behold such a picture of
but soon after that period, on climbing a barren robust health. The countenance was especially frank
mount, I suddenly saw before me a village, or rather and happy-looking, and bespoke a man who would
a considerable town, standing alone, as it were, in the have his jest, even "under the ribs of death." My
wilderness. On approaching the place more closely, poor friend, the mayor, evidently dreaded his mirth,
it struck me that my eye had never lighted on an and moved off without saying a syllable, while I was
assortment of human dwellings so black, so odd-looking at the new comer. The latter, who was
looking, or so ugly. At the same time, my state of dressed, by the bye, in a half-rural half-town fashion,
weariness rendered them, on the whole, an agreeable laughed long and loudly, and then cried to me, "Look
enough sight, and I entered among the dingy, irre- at your lunatic-how he runs!" "Lunatic!" said I;
gular piles, looking around me for something like an "is the mayor really deranged?" "Mayor!" cried
inn. While thus engaged, an elderly gentleman, one my new friend in turn; "has he persuaded you, then,
of the few persons in view, came up to me, and bowed that he is a mayor? Perhaps he has also told you
several times so courteously and profoundly, that I that he was once a prefect, and a minister-eh?"
not only returned his reiterated salutations, but also "He has told me so," said I, a little piqued at the
felt tempted to examine him attentively. He was a roar of laughter with which the question was accom-
man apparently above sixty, with a smiling counte-panied. "Your perspicacity must be remarkable,"
nance, and a broad, open brow, on which, certainly,
sat a sort of air of distinction. He was dressed re-
spectably, in a black suit of an ancient cut. Alto-
gether, there was such a degree of amiable frankness
apparent in this stranger's look and manner, that,
after returning his bows, I waited respectfully to hear
his address, thinking to myself that the village could
not probably afford me a person better fitted for a
temporary companion than the one before me, and
that I was peculiarly fortunate in the meeting.
"I see that you are a stranger, sir," said the
old gentleman; "an Englishman? or German, per-
haps?" I replied that I was a traveller from France.
"A Frenchman! ah, better still," said the stranger;
"I love the French. Simple as you see me here, sir,
I have served Napoleon. What a man was there!
-what a judge of men and of merit! I may say I
was not undistinguished by Napoleon, sir."
Beginning now to think, from this significant open-
ing, that I had met with an old gentleman whose
self-conceited reminiscences of the past might be
rather tedious, I congratulated him upon his good
fortune in having served the "great man," and told
him I was in search of an inn. "An inn !" said he;
a Frenchman, whom I have chanced to meet, go to
an inn! Sir, simple as you see me here, I am the
mayor of this village!" I again complimented the
old gentleman upon his honours. "Honours !" said
he, sir, I was once governor of this whole province
prefect of the department of Deux Nethes. Napoleon
loaded me with dignities, sir."

66

man;

66

"Garrulous and testy !" thought I to myself. But I said something different, being willing to please the rural dignitary. "I am not surprised at your elevation, sir," remarked I to him, "since Napoleon was so accurate a judge of merit." "Ah," replied the stranger, "you are too polite; you make me blush. Between ourselves, however, I really think I have some right to be a little vain." "I do not doubt it, sir," said I; "a prefect of department under the great man has some right to a little vanity." "Prefect!-and much more than prefect, did not my modesty forbid me to tell you," said the old gentlesee here!" He then looked around cautiously, and, being satisfied seemingly with the glance, he drew from his pocket a small parcel, which he opened with great care, stripping it of many coverings. A riband of the Legion of Honour proved to be the article contained; and this he showed to me, saying, this, sir, with his own hands!" "Indeed!" said I, with an appearance of great emotion, "He gave me beginning to think my companion rather a remarkable man. With his own hands," repeated the old gentleman. "And under what circumstances?-at Waterloo, sir!-yes, at Waterloo! I was by his side; the fatal cry arose, 'Save himself who can !' The great man turned to me, and exclaimed, Why did I neglect your advice !-this could not then have occurred! After saying so, he took from his neck a riband of the Legion of Honour (which he always carried about with him for immediate rewards), and gave it to me, crying Adieu-most faithful of my friends, adieu ! We parted, not to meet again."

66

I began now to wonder much who this respectable though talkative old gentleman could be. Not being willing to ask his name, however, I only inquired what rank he had held in the army. "I never was a soldier," said he; "I served the emperor as minister"- Here a start on my part led my communicative friend to repeat "Yes, as minister. Did I not mention that? First as minister, then as prefect, and then as simple councillor, but never as soldier." "But you were at Waterloo ?" said I, with growing amazement, forgetting my weariness and hunger completely in the wish to gratify my excited curiosity. "At Waterloo !" answered my village friend; "to be sure I was at Waterloo; but I was there as a simple volunteer. It was for my head, not my arm, that Napoleon esteemed me; and had he followed my counsels on that occasion, Wellington would have carried a different tale to England. Sire,' said I, at that critical moment when the Prussians came up, 'Sire, follow my advice''

* A few years ago, we happened to drop into a small book-shop his narration, and I had just begun to suspect that,
The old gentleman had just reached this point of
at a watering-place, the keeper of which sold drugs. While con-
versing with the shopkeeper, a poor woman entered and sought respectable as he appeared, he must be slightly crazed
for a pennyworth of calomel, or as much as would answer as on some points, when suddenly a most boisterous
a dose for an infant. This was a demand which seemed rather laugh broke forth behind us, and brought the tale
puzzling to the shopkeeper, and in putting some particles of the
white powder in a bit of paper, he appealed to us if we thought
to a close. I turned to the new comer, and saw
it was a right quantity. As the question was totally out of our one of the most jolly-looking figures that had ever
fallen under my notice. He was a man well advanced
much or too little, we never had an opportunity of ascertaining in years, but with the shoulders and apparent vigour

way, we could offer no advice; and whether the dose proved too

"You see," continued my companion," yonder little old woman, playing at nine-pins! She is mad. Her husband was a rich merchant of Verviers, who died, and left his business to her care. It was too much for her intellect. Her affairs grew confused, and she became insane. Believing that all her trade went away to Sedan and Louviers, she plays continually at nine-pins, and cries at every throw, Down goes Sedan!-down with Louviers! You see (continued my companion) an old man in yonder garden? That man is more decisively mad than even the old woman. He was a mine proprietor, and ruined himself by attempts to extract wealth from a barren soil. Now, he digs all day with a spade, and says to himself every evening, To-morrow I shall have it! Yonder is a girl dancing. She imagines herself Taglioni, and leaps before a tree all day till she is exhausted, when she asks the tree if it is satisfied, imagining it to be the Emperor Nicholas. Ha ha! Yonder

mad!

Here I interrupted the catalogue. "What! is every body in sight of us insane? have you not done yet ?"" "Done!" said my companion, "why, there are a thousand or two of people in Gheel, and they are all We are all mad; for I myself""You! come, I see you are disposed to have your jest out with me," said I. My companion here looked at me gravely. "Perhaps you do not think me mad," said he; "do you or do you not believe me to be mad?" My answer was brief. "You mock me by the question; certainly I do not."

Scarcely were the words out of my mouth, when my companion flew fiercely at me, and grasped my throat with the whole force of his powerful fists. I could make no resistance under such hands, and was rapidly growing insensible, when a man rushed up to us, and applied a stick lustily to the broad back of my assailant. The latter instantly let go his hold, and slunk hastily off like a beaten child. As soon as I before me a stout and apparently respectable man in had fairly recovered my breath and senses, I saw country attire. He first begged pardon for the attack which "his lunatic" had made upon me, and then civilly asked me to go with him to his house, to rest there until I fully recovered from my late alarm. "You are a physician, then, and the keeper of a lunatic asylum?" said I, suspiciously. "Oh, no," replied he, "I am a plain countryman. But are not you aware that, for two hundred years, Gheel has been a retreat on a large scale for lunatics? Every inhabitant has two or three of them in his house. They come hither from all parts of Belgium, and it is a kind of trade which, thanks to heaven, is very profitable and very easy to us."

66

Easy! you astonish me," said I. "I should conceive it both troublesome and dangerous."

"I

"Not at all," returned the man of Gheel. "Our women, and even our children, can manage the poor creatures. Some violent ones, indeed, are kept in confinement, and require it. But, with the most of them, we only need to find out their weak points at first, and then we can both avoid exciting them, and make them perfectly obedient. We let them go about, and they never abuse their liberty." "Pardon me, friend," said I; "but for your cane, that madman would soon have made me a lifeless witness to the contrary." "That madman," replied the man, "is good nature itself! but you have given him cause of irritation." "Not in the least," was my reply; only was too civil to him, for I would not say that he was mad." "There, now," said the Gheel man; "that is just the very point. His mania is to be thought mad; he is quite proud of being one of the mad folks of But come with me, sir, and I will prove to you that Gheel; and a most inoffensive kind of pride it is. Pierre is a most amusing companion, and a capital cook. Allow him but to be mad, and all is well." I declined all invitations, however, feeling that my appetite for food was gone, never to return while I was in Ghcel. How could I even be certain that I was yet out of the hands of the lunatic colonists? All that I desired from my inviter was to have a mode of

conveyance towards Antwerp pointed out to me. I was not long afterwards in Gheel.

And now, I would ask my readers if Campine be not a remarkable country, what with its smuggling and its lunatics? I would also bid them make certain, when entering unknown places, that half the population are not mad folks, and take care, also, not too hastily to deny the truth of a man's words, when he tells you that he is insane. Let him have his own way of it by all means. These are valuable morals, I imagine, derivable from the present humble story.

POPULAR INFORMATION ON POLITICAL ECONOMY.

EIGHTH ARTICLE.-MACHINERY.

It has usually been supposed that machinery abridges the sum of human labour, but this is a fallacy. If machines throw a certain number or class of operatives out of employment, they call up the energies of an equal if not greater number of individuals to make the machines. Say, for example, that a machine costs L.500, it will be found, upon an analysis of the price, that by far the greater portion goes to the workmen who helped to construct it from the raw material; probably L.450 out of the L.500 in reality goes into the pockets of the operatives. Hence, machinery, though abridging one kind of labour, prodigiously in

creases another.

Let us proceed into a deliberate investigation of this vital question, which admits of other views. Suppose that stockings knit by the wire cost 36s. per dozen pairs. Let us make the following distribution of this sum:-10s. for worsted, the material, 20s. for wages of labour, and 6s. for the manufacturer's profit. Suppose, now, that by the introduction of the stocking frame, nine-tenths of the labour expended on the dozen of stockings, and consequently of the wages, is saved the sum paid for wages in the mere conversion of the worsted into stockings becoming only 2s. instead of 20s. In this case, if nothing were paid for the

be the less room for the employment of capital that the poor get their stockings a third cheaper.

It thus appears that there is a distinction of the most important description between that part of the produce of labour which is effected by machinery, and that which is effected by human toil. The one is paid for, the other is not. The one absorbs part of the fund which the community can pay for the wages of labour, the other does not. In so far, therefore, as machinery tends to facilitate production, it is like a genial climate, or an increase in the fertility of the soil-a general blessing for which nothing is paid. The more pains have been taken to show how this conclusion is arrived at, because a dangerous fallacy has frequently taken root among the working classes, to the effect that machinery is an invasion of their privileges-that it somehow or other turns into a different channel the money that should justly be spent among them. When abstractly entertained, these opinions have produced nothing worse than the usual profitless fruit of ignorance; but when allied to personal disappointment and hardship, they have given rise to the most calamitous operations on the human character and fortunes, demoralising and disorganising large masses of men, shaking the authority of the law, and instigating a barbarous war against human improvement. It will not, perhaps, much soften the disappointment of the starving labourer to know that the discovery which has thrown him out of employment, will add to the comfort and convenience of many others; but mankind are always seeking disinterested motives for their selfish proceedings, and those who act boldly and recklessly when they believe themselves to be, and get others to sympathise with them as, the victims of a general system of oppression, would shrink from committing the same outrages for no better motive than their own personal feeling or interest. To know that what he is destroying is the support and comfort of others, though it may inflict temporary injury on himself, would unnerve the arm of the machine-breaker more effectually than all the penal laws which the most despotic legislature could devise. Undoubtedly there has been much incidental misery occasioned to labourers by the introduction of machinery; the present state of the hand-loom weavers is a melancholy instance. Much of this, however, is attributable to the sort of ignorance we telligence regarding the most profitable investments for labour. The progress of knowledge alone can remedy this evil. It will not only enable the labourer to discover the best employment for his labour, but it will give him greater facilities in turning his hand from one species to another. All who have observed such matters, must have noticed that a man of intelligence, who has not been brought up to any mechanical trade, will perform a piece of work with much more facility than a drudging labourer, to whose peculiar department it does not precisely belong. During have shown vast elasticity in change of pursuit. By the present century, the workmen of this country far the greater part of the manufacturing population perform duties which were unknown forty years ago. As these have arisen with the progress of invention, ing. A vast number of these are individuals who have hands ready to perform them have never been wantchanged the nature of their labour probably more than once. It may thus fairly be argued, that, in the general case, more labourers are thrown out of work by their own stupid obstinacy than by the progress of invention.

extensive general instance of monopoly in existence was mentioned as land; the money made by which is called rent. In machinery, rent may have been paid for the raw material to a greater or less extent; but, in the general case, not to any great proportion. In the case of a machine made of iron, the portion of rent paid will be for the ore from which the iron is smelted; a sum which, in the case of a machine which costs L.100, will frequently not exceed 5s. The man who makes use of a machine before his neighbours, enjoys a temporary monopoly during the interval which precedes their following his example; and it is the money so made that is generally the inducement to the manufacturer to change his method of production. The others are generally compelled to follow the example, from finding themselves undersold.

Let us glance for a moment at what the labourer gains by machinery. The impulse given by machinery to commerce and manufactures of every kind, the accumulation it makes of capital, and consequently of the means of paying for labour, can more easily be reflected on by any one who thinks for a moment on the subject, than strictly estimated. There are some departments in which machinery makes a positive and distinct addition to the sum expended on the support of labourers, by deducting from that paid for the keep of the inferior animals; take, for instance, steam thrashing-mills and locomotive engines, where the work of human labourers is made to supersede that of horses. It has been calculated that the Liverpool and Manchester Railway alone has put out of employment one thousand horses. The gain which may be thus supposed to be made by the working population is, however, trifling in comparison with the national advantages obtained by the labourers of those countries where machinery is in active operation. It is to the ingenuity and enlightened energy which has prompted the invention and employment of machinery, and to the capital which has facilitated its use, that Britain mainly owes its manufacturing superiority. It is by underselling them that one community can obtain a preference over others in the market of the world; and without a vigilant application of every artificial means of cheapening produce, we could never overcome those adventitious circumstances which leave many of our neighbours a more free opening to the general market than we of our manufactures, through the instrumentality of machinery, that principally enabled us to baffle the celebrated Berlin Decrees of Napoleon. The steamengine and the spinning-jenny-familiar and vulgar appellatives-stopped the progress of him who seemed destined to be the conqueror of the world. Penalties and cordons could not fight against the cheapness of our manufactures, or destroy the natural monopoly which that quality created. Formerly, we were supplied with cotton goods by the indolent and ill-paid hand-labourers of Hindostan; now, as has been already by machinery, we supply them with garments made stated, through the instrumentality of capital working of the cotton which they grow. They have a fertile soil, which produces the raw material-we have the fertile minds that ripen it for use. Labour with them life will not enable them to compete with that land is cheap, but the lowest expenditure that will support where the energy and genius of a Watt and an Arkwright enable individual men to do the work of millions.

machine, there would be a direct saving of 18s. per have been describing, and to a general want of in- possess. It was the rapid progress in the cheapness

dozen in the price of the stockings. Would the manufacturer pocket this sum? No-competition would prevent him from doing so; and in the general case, on every 30s. which he now pays for two dozen pairs, he will just make the same profit which he gained on the one dozen-namely, 6s. But to suppose a machine which costs nothing, is to put an impossible case. Before we find the cost price on which the manufacturer gets his profit, we must add the interest of the cost price of the machine, and compensation for tear and wear, to the price of the worsted and the wages of the labour. Let us rate these expenses connected with the employment of the machine at 5s. Here the cost price to the manufacturer is 20s. per dozen, and if we give him the same profit as before, the price to the consumer will be 24s. Where machinery has been introduced in the various stages which an article of consumption passes through, the alterations in price have been far more striking than in the instance here supposed. In 1786, cotton yarn of 100 hanks to the pound cost 38s. per pound. In 1796, it cost 19s.; in 1800, it cost 9s. 5d.; in 1807, 6s. 9d., and in 1832, 2s. lld. As we come to a more advanced stage of the manufacture, the decrease is still more remarkable. In 1814, 72 seven-eighth calicoes cost L.1, 8s., and in 1831, 8s. 9d., being a fall of about 77 per cent. in the course of seventeen years.

Let us see now how far we are borne out in the proposition that it is the labour of man only that is paid for, that accomplished by the machine being gratuitous. The sum of five shillings upon the dozen pairs of stockings made by the machine, goes in a different direction from the money paid for hand-knit stockings, being paid neither for the worsted nor to the labourer who makes the stockings. To whom, then, does it go? Not to the manufacturer, for to him it is merely compensation for what he has disbursed. If we trace it back, we will find that the whole of it, with some partial exceptions to be hereafter stated, goes as wages of labour. The machine, we shall say, is made of iron. The turner, the metal caster, the smelter, are the persons to whom it will be found to have been paid; and thus the money no longer earned by the widow knitting at her cottage door, goes to support the family of the swarthy blacksmith. It is not lost to labour-it merely changes hands. But, some one may say, there are sixteen shillings per dozen on the stockings, which are now no longer paid-is not this sum lost to the labouring community? By no means. If the cheapness increases the demand for the article, the manufacturer makes more stockings, employing more carders, woolspinners, machine-makers, and stocking-makers. If the demand for the article does not increase, his capital will go in some other direction, and give employment to labour in a different department. There will not

of work, machinery acts in two directions. In the With respect to the restricting of men to one kind first place, it certainly has a tendency, when united with its invariable concomitant, the division of labour, to isolate the workman to a very narrow department, in comparison to the sphere of him who makes a saleable commodity with his own hands. On the other hand, however, it must teach a strictness of attention and nicety of operation, which will constitute a stock in trade to the labourer, to whatever he may turn his hand; while, in the variations to which it is constantly subject in the course of improvement, it accustoms him to change the routine of his employments, and enlarges his faculties.

to the proposition, that the whole of the fund paid for We stated above that there were partial exceptions machinery, in the case of stocking-making, goes as wages of labour. It is always satisfactory to sift such matters to their foundation; and, therefore, though most of our readers probably see pretty clearly that the use of machinery abstracts nothing from the fund spent on labour, it may be advantageous to examine more minutely the component parts of the sum expended on machinery. In the first place, in setting by itself what is given as the wages of labour, we must deduct the profits of the capital employed in the various stages, from the smelting of the ore to the finishing of the machine. It will be evident that this cannot, in the general case, make the sum spent on the labourer less than it would have been had the machine not existed, as the capital would have been employed in some other shape, connected with the production of the article made by the machine. Under the subject of labour, in a previous article, it was stated that there were just two circumstances which made a commodity valuable in the market, the one its having cost labour, the other its being limited in supply, or monopolised. Let us see how far monopoly may be an ingredient in the price of a machine. The most

Before closing this branch of the subject, let us offer the familiar example presented by what are termed the cheap literary publications. Take the case of the present sheet. According to the old mode of manufacturing paper by hand, and printing by hand, the price of the sheet to the public, the present circulation continuing, could not be made less than twopence-halfpenny; but as this price would cause a diminution of circulation of probably one-half, the price would necessarily require to be raised to threepence, or double what it is at present. We are far from saying that a diminution of our circulation would be a loss to the public, but we at least know that our friends among the operative classes would be at once virtually cut off from the perusal of this as well as any other cheap print. In point of fact, the chinery. It could not possibly have existed thirty cheap literature of the present age is a child of ma

years ago.

It was formerly shown that the advantages of cheap labour were reaped principally by the working classes. This is more eminently the case with the more powerfully cheapening influence of machinery. It is impossible to form any estimate of the extent to which the comforts, and, if we may so term them, the elegancies, of the poor, are thus increased. We once heard a gentleman, accustomed to making minute estimates, calculate that the whole Sunday costume of a border peasant girl-a dress of the most fashionable order worn by the class-costs only 20s. Sixty years ago, a lady could not have dressed herself so well for L.5. To the poor, quantity of commodities is the first great requisite. With the rich, it is not quantity, but difficulty of procurement-in other words, expense that is the recommendation. The object is not so much to possess articles ministering to bodily comfort for these can generally be procured with a small portion of the wealth of a rich man-as to be able to show what others cannot obtain. The article which, once prized, is made common by the application of machinery, ceases to be coveted, and is

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