left as a blessing to the poor. Surely, when these things are duly considered, it will not be a long time ere we look back upon the practice of machine-breaking as one of the most astounding illustrations of popular delusion that the annals of human barbarism can produce. NEW ZEALAND. In a letter from Mr George Duppa to his father, "Now for the beauties of the place. The harbour resembles rather an inland lake than an inlet of the sea, particularly when it is perfectly calm; which is not always the case-it being so squally and changeable a climate, as far as the wind is concerned, that we are frequently threatened with an upset when sailing about in our boat to bring our goods, or when on a fishing excursion: but she (I mean the boat) is very stiff, and I have acquired the art of managing her to such an extent as to secure my safety in her. But to return to the harbour: it is surrounded with : We shall not be able to choose our town allotments for the next three or four months, and at least a year will elapse before we have the chance of selecting our country sections; this comes of hurrying off so soon after the surveyors, which I protested against as far as was in my power when in London, but could find no one to second me. We are, however, allowed to squat, as it is termed in this part of the world, and have a right to remain on the land for the term of two years, although I intend bargaining for five years if I can, and by that means be enabled to clear a larger quantity of the land which is to be reserved for public purposes, and which consists chiefly of deserted native potato-grounds, requiring very little trouble to clear. will HEADS OF THE ABORIGINAL AMERICANS. A PAPER in Silliman's American Journal of Science Several ships have arrived in the harbour from Sydney, with all sorts of goods on board; and to-day one has arrived with about forty head of cattle-very miserable-looking animals, not equal to the Welsh runts. The price they ask for them is L.30 per head; a price I do not intend to pay yet, for, in the first place, I do not see how they are to be kept, and in the second, I do not see how they are to be used. No-cattle will not answer at present, although it cher-meat will bear a good price, as will likewise pay to breed them a few years hence; for butevery description of agricultural produce. As soon as we have supplied ourselves, the Sydney market mountainous hills, for that is the only way to describe will take the surplus. A crop of wheat and a crop of them being a species of neither mountain nor hill, potatoes, or any succulent crop, can always be reaped in and yet both. They are partly covered with a sort of one year, there being no frost to check the vegetation. bastard flax and long grass, which gives them rather Two crops of wheat might be had off the same land if a barren appearance; but it is fully compensated by there were any means of keeping it fed down until the rich description of forest timber which covers the blighting winds cease, which appear to blow durthe remainder. At the further end of the harbour is ing a short period of the year. In fact, the only thing the mouth of the three rivers on which the town is to against agriculture here, is the land being so densely be built. They flow down a valley of level land, which covered with timber, and consequently so expensive is from four to six miles in breadth, and surrounded to clear; but that is of course but a slight impediby hills most densely covered with timber; as is like-ment to a large capital. For if it costs a man L.40 to wise the valley itself, excepting on the banks of the clear an acre of land, which will produce him four river, which have, at one time or other, been cleared quarters of wheat per acre (and I will warrant the by the natives for potato-gardens: but those gardens soil being as capable of producing six quarters as any do not extend further than one hundred yards or so land in England), which, when made into flour, will inland, and they are in some places still in a high sell at 6d. per pound-a price which it is fetching at state of cultivation; in others, rather more neglected, present, and which it is likely to fetch for the next where the potatoes and cabbages have run to seed; in five years he will have the whole, or nearly the others again, which are by far the most frequent, they whole, of his outlay returned to him at the expiration are covered with a species of willow, which is by no of six months; and thus be enabled to put another means difficult to eradicate. But, unfortunately, these crop into the same land at a small expense. Once spots have been reserved by the company for public ploughing, with one pair of oxen and a light plough, purposes, for boulevards, or some such nonsense or will be sufficient; for I never saw land turn up so other; the land immediately in the rear being covered well in my life: it is like the finest garden mould, and with timber of such extraordinary dimensions as to perfectly free from weeds-a circumstance which is require at least L.40 per acre to clear it. But this is to be attributed to its having been so thickly covered business again. The scenery of these rivers, as you with wood." go paddling up them in a canoe, is most enchanting the principal river is as broad as the Thames at Richmond, but too frequently interrupted by snags, which have in many places formed bars, which must be removed before it can become navigable for a boat of any size: but a canoe which does not draw more than one and a-half to two inches of water can of course go any where, and enable you to see it all—and a beautiful sight it is. Picture a most enchanting serpentine river, overshadowed by trees of richest verdure emblossomed by every colour, enlivened by the deep mellow and quaint notes of the ptui, or mocking-bird, besides those of hundreds of others equally rich and curious; and every now and then paroquets of the brightest greens and reds fluttering from bank to bank, and adding their chattering notes to the general concert: in fact, it is of little use my attempting to describe scenery so rich and varied in the limited space of a letter; to be fully appreciated, it must be I trust, therefore, that your imagination will, to a certain extent, make amends for the meagreness of this description, and that the slender materials which I have furnished will give some notion of the site of our town, which for many purposes is most admirably adapted. As an agricultural district, it will not answer for many years, inasmuch as it requires too great an outlay of capital to do any thing with it; and I question much whether there is the hundred thousand acres of level land for those who have already come out. You will therefore say that the whole is a failure but not so, for at Taranaki, distant overland about sixty miles, there are millions of acres of level land, which will not be nearly so expensive to clear, with a much better river running through it, but unfortunately a very poor harbour. The soil there is equally good as here-so report says. Previous to making up my mind for a removal thither, I intend going there myself; and if it should prove satisfactory, I shall choose my town-acres here (for this will always be the principal town), and my country sections there. For an agriculturist, the first four or five years are those which will pay best, as we shall not be able to supply ourselves until the expiration of that time; and I well know that Sydney will not be able to spare us any in the mean time. Wheat is now selling there at L.10 per quarter, and was much higher a short time back. A friend of Sinclair's, a fellowmidshipman, who has been in this part of the world for the last four or five years, tells me that the Sydney agriculturists never calculate upon realising more than one out of three crops; so that I feel confident of our always having a good market for our produce. Oatenhay itself, which can certainly be harvested here twice, and probably three times, in the course of the season, seen. * sells at L.18 the ton. they turn with aversion from the restraints of civilised life, and have made but trifling progress in mental cultivation or the useful arts. It is remarkable of both the American and Toltecan families, that they have been quite unable to stand their ground against even inferior numbers of Europeans, who must accordingly soon become the sole possessors of that great continent. Considering the characteristics manifested by the American variety, it becomes a matter of most interesting inquiry in what natural peculiarities they differ from Europeans, for it is in such peculiarities that we are to look for the causes of so striking a mental inferiority. The brain is the organ of the mind, and on the size of this organ, other conditions being equal, depends the comparative force of character of individuals. By "other conditions being equal," it is meant that of two brains, similar in constitutional character and activity, the larger is sure to produce in its possessor appearances of more vigorous character than the smaller will do. Hence it may be presumed that a considerable number of persons, or a nation, possessing large brains, will be for certain more powerful than small brains. the same number of persons possessing comparatively But general size of brain is not the only measure of human character. Different regions of the brain are charged with different functions, the intellectual faculties lying in the front or anterior lobe, the moral sentiments in the coronal surface, and the animal propensities in the posterior part. Hence it may be presumed that if the brains of one nation on an average are large in any one of these departments in proportion to what they are in other departments, that nation will be remarkable accordingly with respect to intellectual and moral character. These doctrines are as yet received by only a certain class of inquirers (the adherents of the philosophy of Gall and Spurzheim); but they appear to us founded in nature, and a remarkable proof of their truth is found in Dr Morton's researches in American aboriginal crania. Having obtained a considerable number of the skulls of the various races of men, Dr Morton measured their internal capacity by means of white pepper seed, and. found the following results :— It thus appears that the aboriginal Americans rank fourth with respect to the size of their brains, the Ethiopians being lowest and the Caucasians highest. The general results are strikingly in conformity to all we know of the history of the races, for the Caucasian race is that which has produced the most civilised nations, while the Mongolian, the next in order of capacity of cranium, has produced a number of nations which remain at a fixed point in semi-civilisation, the Malay is a degree more barbarous, and the American and Ethiopian the most barbarous of all. Dr Morton considers the aboriginal people of America, with the exception of the Esquimaux, as a distinet variety of the human species. Their principal external peculiarity is the skin, which is generally of a reddish hue, though varying much in different countries, some nations approaching white, and others black. It appears from the late interesting researches The inquiries which Dr Morton has made amongst of Flourens, that the American skin, like that of the the Toltecan family, at first appear somewhat inconnegroes, comprehends two layers in addition to those sistent with these results, but, when fully considered, of the European races, and that in the outermost of they are found to be exactly what might have been these two layers the red colouring matter resides; expected. "From the Rio Gila in California," he from which Flourens argues that the white, the black, says, " to the southern extremity of Peru, their archiand the red races, are essentially distinct. If these tectural remains [that is, the architectural remains of conclusions be just, the speculations of Humboldt and the Toltecans] are every where encountered to surothers as to the migration of the Americans from prise the traveller and confound the antiquary; Asia must be esteemed as unfounded, and we must amongst these are pyramids, temples, grottoes, bashenceforth regard this portion of mankind as an in-reliefs, and arabesques; while their roads, aqueducts, dependent variety. An exception exists only with and fortifications, and the sites of their mining operaregard to the Esquimaux, who are of the Mongolian tions, sufficiently attest their attainments in the pracor Eastern-Asiatic variety, and have probably migrated tical arts of life." The ingenious people who formed to their present settlements from the elder continent. these works are generally understood to have ceased Dr Morton subdivides the American or red variety to exist, as the predominant people at least, about the into two families, just as the European variety is sub-eleventh century of our era, when the Incas began to divided into Celtic, Teutonic, &c. He calls these reign in Peru. There are therefore ancient Peruvians 1st, the American, and, 2d, the Toltecan. The second and modern Peruvians, just as there have been ancient were those people who attained a condition of semi- Britons and modern Britons. Vast quantities of the civilisation in Mexico and Peru, long before the dis- bodily remains of the ancient Peruvians are found in covery of America by the Europeans. They had the desert of Atacama, which was their favourite place forms of government and a regular priesthood, had of sepulture for many ages, and where the united inmade considerable advances in the arts, and have left fluence of a dry climate and a river abounding in salt many monuments of their ingenuity and united labours has preserved many bodies in a mummy-like condition. in temples, tombs, and miscellaneous sculptures. But Dr Morton examined many heads derived from this this race does not now exist in any distinct form, and place, and found the entire internal capacity to be may be considered as extinct. The other family, small, only 73 cubic inches, which is considerably below specially called American, branches into several subor- the average of the existing American aborigines. He dinate groups, to which the names Appalachian, found, however, that the amount of space in the intelBrazilian, Patagonian, and Fuegian, have been applied. lectual and moral regions was considerably larger in All are remarkable as warlike, cruel, and unforgiving; proportion than in the latter class of crania, while the entire form of the head was more symmetrical and cient Peruvians were a people of gentle and refined elegant. It therefore may be presumed that the ancharacter, well qualified to excel in works of art, but little qualified to maintain their ground against the grosser but more vigorous tribes residing in their Reighbourhood, and who have accordingly overpowered and supplanted them. various Aboriginal Nations of North and South America; to and Co. 1839. LAIRD OF LOGAN. [Under this title, which, in the west of Scotland, is equivalent to "Joe Miller," a collection of anecdotes and jokes is at present publishing in parts, by Blackie and Son, Glasgow. With not a little of rather a coarse taste, the Laird occasionally gives us a sparkling witticism or story, highly significant of national character. We offer two or three specimens.] DAFT RAB HAMILTON. press was absorbed by the productions of this contentious outbreak. There is in the British Museum a collection of two thousand volumes of tracts issued between the years 1640 and 1660, the whole number of which several publications amounts to the enormous quantity of thirty thousand. This most curious collection was made by a bookseller of the name of Tomlinson, in the times when the tracts were printed-was bargained for, but not bought by Charles II.-and was eventually Rab Hamilton, a half-crazed mendicant, was a regular bought by George III., and presented by him to the Scotchman in his manner of address-moving round the object instead of making directly towards it, rather look- British Museum. The limited demand for any producing away from than at it, yet keeping a corner of his eye tions unconnected with controversial subjects may be distinctly on it. If he happened to be in the presence of inferred from the little popularity enjoyed by Milton's gentlemen, who often invited him to take a dram for the metrical publication, and the fact, mentioned by Dr purpose of drawing him out, he would pretend to hear Johnson, that from 1623 to 1664, the nation was satissilver fall on the floor. "What's tat-deed is't-surely fied with two editions of Shakspeare's plays, which proit was the jingling sound o' a shilling on the carpet-as bably together did not amount to one thousand copies. sure's death, deed is't; but I dinna see't on the carpet-The cause of wholesome literature did not benefit by no-but ye can just gie me anither-I'm saying, deed the Restoration; it was a transition from one extreme is't-and you'll get it yoursel' after I'm awa." to another—from a conclave to a brothel ; and it became a mere toy of a licentious king, his courtesans and gallants, who sought to divert their weariness with wits and authors, as monarchs were wont to do with their jesters. Charles II. and his followers brought hither the spirit of the literary parasites of Louis XIV., with whom the great were every thing and the people nothing, save a brute and random bolt, or slumbering shell in a mortar. Under this kind of favour, letters, with a few grand exceptions, put on the lowest garb in which they habiliments to excite the gross passions of human can be arrayed were tricked out in meretricious finery nature-to pander to the low appetites of the swell mob of St James's, or the hardly less degraded rabble that congregated nightly at Blackfriars or the Globe theatre in Southwark.-Wade's British History. AN IRISH DEBT. The late Sir Walter Scott, meeting an Irish beggar in the street, who importuned him for sixpence, the then Great Unknown not having one, gave him a shilling, adding, with a laugh, "Now, remember you owe me sixpence. "Och, sure enough," said the beggar; "and may your honour live till I pay you." 99 TIT FOR TAT. A pedlar halted at a public-house in the country, and at the landlady's request displayed nearly every article in his pack, for her examination. This he did cheerfully, expecting that a large purchase would be made. On inquiring what article the landlady would like to buy, she coolly replied, "Hoot, I dinna want to buy ony thing; I merely wanted a sight o' them." "I'm sorry ye'll no buy," said the pedlar; "but never mind, let's see half-amutchkin o' your best whisky." The stoup was instantly filled, and a voluntary piece of oaten cake placed beside it on the server. The pedlar kept warming himself at a brisk fire, and crumping the gratis cakes, while the landlady was allowed in courtesy to help herself and some female gossips, who had also been inspectors of the pack, to a tasting of the liquor; having drank his health, and guid sale to him, she filled up the glass and handed it to him. "Na, na," said he, "I want nane o' your whisky; I only asked ye for a sight o't!" So saying, he tightened his strap, and set off on the tramp. A WONDERFUL PREACHER. A country woman, whilst on a visit to a large manufacturing town in the west, went to hear a celebrated divine, whose field of labour lay there, and whose fame had often been sounded in the ears of the worthy dame. On her return, she was asked her opinion of "The star of the west," as he is often called. "Oh," said she, "he's a wonderfu' preacher-a great preacher." "Well, well, that's all true," said the other; "but what do you think of his views of doctrinal points, and his powers of expounding the scriptures ?" "Oh," said the worthy critic, "I dinna ken; but he's just a wonderfu' man." "But what did he say ?" "Oh, he just gaed on, and gaed on, and chappit on the Bible, and raised his twa hands abune his head, and then gaed on again, and gaed on again; and then he swat and rubbit his brow, and whan he stoppit, he looked as if he could have said mair than whan he began-oh, he's a wonderfu' grand preacher!" SCOTCH ALL OVER. The manse of Gargunnock, some half-century ago, was known for all the good things of the season, as Samuel Shool, the bellman, used to boast, when speaking of its generous-hearted mistress. Honest Samuel was fond of relating any thing to the credit of his benefactress in the manse. "I mind," said he, on one occasion, "ae Sabbath morning at the summer preachings, mair than thirty years sin', a sad pickle that the mistress was in, because Betty M'Quat had forgotten to howk some early potatoes on the Saturday night; for potatoes were a great rarity at the time. What was to be done? Betty was like to gae through the yirth about it; and quo' she, Mistress, I'll just tak the graip, and slip out and howk a wheen [dig a few]-naebody will ken; and gif it come to the minister's hearin', I'll take the sin and the blame o't on mysel'. Na, na, Betty, since I maun hae the rarity at the dinner this day, just gang awa out and pouter [scrape] a few frae the roots o' the shaws wi' your hands -take nae graip wi' ye-use nae warkloom made by the hand o' man on the day o' rest; if the minister sets on me about it, I'll just tell him that we only pouter'd them out the drill; there wasna a graip shank in the hand o' ony body about the house-surely a body may use their fingers without being found fau't wi'.'" THE TRAVELLER NONPLUSSED. Captain Basil Hall, whose written stories have charmed all who have read them, was one day endeavouring to enliven a remarkably stiff and dull dinner party, by a few oral relations of the same kind. He concluded one of a very extraordinary character, by saying, "Did you ever hear any story so wonderful as that?" and at the same moment his eye chanced to rest on a footboy opposite to him, who, without leaving a moment of interval, exclaimed, "Yes, man, there's a lass i' our kitchen, that kens a lass that has twa thoombs on ae hand!" LITERATURE UNDER THE STUARTS. The period of the English press, from the accession of James I. to the Orange revolution, is generally considered the least satisfactory in our literary history. In the reign of the first Stuart came an inundation of pedantry, which surrounded the court with verbal criticism and solemn quibble; the people, indeed, had their glorious dramatists, but Bacon was looked upon as an impracticable dreamer. Controversy, too, began to be rife, and the spirit at last exploded in such a torrent of civil and ecclesiastical violence in the next reign, as left no opening for science or belles-lettres. The IMPROVEMENTS IN HEALTH-SEEKING. Railroad travelling possesses many peculiarities, as well as advantages, over the common modes of conveyance. The velocity with which the train moves through the air is very refreshing, even in the hottest weather, where the run is for some miles. The vibration, or rather oscillatory motion communicated to the human frame, is very different to the swinging and jolting motions of the stage-coach, and is productive of more salutary effects. It equalises the circulation, promotes digestion, tranquillises the nerves (after the open country is gained), and often causes sound sleep during the succeeding night; the exercise of this kind of travelling being unaccompanied by that lassitude, aching, and fatigue, which, in weakly constitutions, prevents the nightly repose. The railroad bids fair to be a powerful remedial agent in many ailments to which the metropolitan and civic inhabitants are subject. The innumerable steam-boats plying on the river are another comparatively recent means of securing health to the metropolitans. The benefit derived from a trip for thirty miles down the river on a fine summer's day, is very great. The lively bustle of the river, the beautiful scenery on its banks, and the swift motion of the vessel through the water, all tend powerfully to alienate, for a time, the mind of the business-pressed citizen from his daily thoughts; and the refreshing breeze which is almost always on the river has a most healthful effect. By bringing men of different countries more into contact with one another, and by promoting the more complete interchange of opinion and community of feeling between the inhabitants of the same country, steam conveyances contribute to the health in another, though less direct way, but which to the reader of this book must be sufficiently obvious.—Curtis on the Preservation of Health. HORSE POWER. A horse, of the Clydesdale breed, has been employed, during fourteen years, by Sir C. Stuart Menteith, in drawing coal waggons on the ill-made turnpike road in the county of Dumfries, from Ayrshire to Dumfries. His usual load of coal has been 35 cwt., in a common light road waggon of the weight of 13 cwt., in a stage of four miles, which he performs three times every day, or twelve miles in the course of twenty-four hours daily. He has never been known to lie down during the last eight years, except twice, when he was in a state of sickness. Sir C. Stuart Menteith employs several more horses to perform the same work, and to draw an equal load upon the same road daily. From the experience Sir C. Stuart Menteith has had in the use of animal power upon common roads, he is of opinion that the most economical mode of employing horses in draught is to give every horse his own carriage, and that he should solely depend upon his own exertions in drawing the load, as otherwise it is well known that it is difficult to find either man or beast equally willing or capable to make the same exertion, or to have the same spirit or motion; and at the same time never to exceed six miles on one stage, and to be performed twice daily. In a stage of three miles and a half, Sir C. Stuart Menteith employs waggons weighing 18 cwt., in which horses draw three tons. The road is in general upon a declivity of one foot of fall for every eight, sixteen, or eighteen feet, with several ascents of one foot in every thirty feet, up which a horse draws the load of three tons, and a waggon of 18 cwt.; but in order to facilitate the ascent, a continuous line of sandstone railroad is first laid down, upon which a plate of iron, six inches wide, by a quarter of an inch thick, is fixed down. Sir C. Stuart Menteith has known horses to draw three tons of iron up an ascent of one foot in fourteen for a short distance; and he is of opinion, that when the pulls or with a railroad applicable to the wheels of common road ascents upon all the roads in this island shall be laid carriages, a horse will be enabled to draw the same load up the ascents that he can draw or work with upon the level parts of a road in a twenty mile stage. In order to enable a horse to bring a load of three tons down any rate of descent, a friction-break has been employed, similar to the one in common use in Belgium, from which Sir C. Stuart Menteith derived this important application. The break is a strong plank, fixed to the back of a cart or waggon, which, by means of a screw, machine, so as to give a sufficiency of friction to retard the carter presses against the two hind wheels of the the too rapid descent of the carriage. This plan has been employed with great success by Mr Croal, coachproprietor in Edinburgh, from the suggestion of Sir C. Stuart Menteith, who has now used it more than fourteen years upon his coal waggons. The mode adopted by Mr Croal is to fix a lying axle to the plank pressing upon the hind-wheels of a coach, and which is turned by an upright shaft, with a bevel wheel, connecting the two shafts, and turned by a winch by the hand of the coach guard, without moving from his seat. Were this break would be preserved, as the guard would be able to stop applied to every coach, the lives and limbs of thousands horses when running away with a carriage-as it is thought that treble, as it were, of the weight of a coach is to be drawn, if the two hind-wheels are prevented from revolving by the break. This kind of break enables a coachman to drive with perfect security down a descent of any length, and at any rate of speed. If the employment of horse waggons, weighing from 12 cwt. to 13 cwt. were adopted in conveying coal through the streets of London, one horse would do the work of two; at present, four immense horses draw three chaldrons of coal, or four tons one hundredweight, in a waggon weighing two tons; so that the shaft-horse is obliged to draw a weight of six tons in turning out of one street into another, which is the greatest cruelty to which a poor animal can be subjected. At the same time, railroads of cast iron should be laid down, for the wheels of carts or waggons, upon the narrow steep streets from the river Thames to the Strand, which would enable one horse to draw two tons up those streets, instead of using six horses, the present practice.-Scotsman, June 1839. THE VOICE OF HOME TO THE PRODIGAL [BY MRS HEMANS.] Oh! when wilt thou return To the stillness of the groves? Which the lake's clear bosom wore But not for evermore. There is kept a place for thee, The BARBAROUS PLEASURES. There is often, in fact, no material difference between the enjoyments of the highest ranks and those of the lish noblemen and an Iroquoise in the forest, or an Arab rudest stages of society. If the life of many young Engreal sources of happiness are nearly the same. in the desert, are compared, it will be found that their treasures of science, the refinements of taste, the luxuries of wealth, are in many cases disregarded or forgotten, and the real excitation of life depends upon the destruction of wild animals or the management of impetuous steeds. This is a fact which is matter of daily observation; and it furnishes a most instructive lesson as to the proportion established by nature between the active and the speculative part of mankind. The great majority in every class of society are incapable of receiving happiness from any other source but physical excitation; and every plan for human improvement which is founded on any other supposition, will necessarily fail. Nor is it without good reason that nature has established this disproportion between the studious and the active part of the species. The great mass of undertakings essential to the existence and the welfare of mankind, depend on physical exertion; and, unless the greater part of our fellowcreatures were disposed to that species of labour, and gratified with the enjoyments that attend it, the race would speedily perish, and the speculations of science disappear with the individuals who formed them.-Alison's Principles of Population. 1840. LONDON: Published, with permission of the proprietors, by W.S ORR, Paternoster Row; and sold by all booksellers and newemen.-Printed by Bradbury and Evans, Whitefriars. 'CONDUCTED BY WILLIAM AND ROBERT CHAMBERS, EDITORS OF "CHAMBERS'S INFORMATION FOR THE PEOPLE," "CHAMBERS'S EDUCATIONAL COURSE," &c. NUMBER 457. THE NEXT OF KIN. IN a retired corner of Lancashire,* resided a poor widow of the name of Rokins, who had brought up a large family, and, previous to the death of her husband, enjoyed the satisfaction of seeing them all, except the youngest daughter, comfortably settled, according to their respective minds. During the life of honest Jacob, the family had depended chiefly on his labour for support, which, besides being devoted to the earning of weekly wages from the neighbouring farmers, was also directed indefatigably to the culture of a small garden, of which the well-managed produce greatly increased their humble income, at the same time that it furnished a wholesome and certain provision for their table. At the period of his death, his widow, who was rather advanced in years, and had never boasted the robust health common to our northern peasantry, was become too weak even to assist the little Sophy in the care of the cottage; and, conscious of her own infirmity, and yielding to the pressure of present sorrow, notwithstanding the comparative comforts that surrounded her, and the little hoard amassed by frugal industry, she deemed the workhouse her inevitable destiny. The contemplation of such an evil, as she considered it, threatened to hasten the close of a life which had been passed in a hard and successful struggle for honest independence. It was too much; the thought preyed on her mind, and the poor woman became paralytic. What was to be done? Sophy, though not brought up for regular service, was a strong, active, and, better still, a willing girl, and might have earned a tolerable maintenance for her mother and herself, by going out; but then her poor mother required constant attention, and the most affectionate care, and none of her married children could contrive either to take her under their roof, or contribute to her support at home. They contented themselves merely with observing, that "Soph might as well live with mother as a servant, as go out among strangers, and hire a stranger to bide wi' mother." How money was to be earned by this sagacious arrangement, they did not trouble themselves to inquire. They "spoke their minds on the matter," as they called it, and held that enough. Fortunately, their youngest sister thought there was also occasion to act. Sophy had long been in the habit of assisting her father in the late and early labours of the garden; indeed, as her strength and stature increased, she had taken a considerable share therein, and latterly had always selected the supply for market, and arranged it in the panniers of their ancient donkey. "Why not," thought she, as she leant sorrowfully over her patient favourite, "try to make the produce of the garden still maintain my poor mother? Why not now carry these fine raspberries and scarlet beans to market, which our dear father took such pains to bring to perfection? Let us go, Neddy; for if we don't go now, father's customers will forget us, and we shall have to deal with strangers, who would take advantage of you and me." The attempt was made; and from that moment Sophy cared nothing for hard-hearted overseers, or still more hard-hearted brothers and sisters. Night and morning she worked in her little garden, through all weathers, or travelled with her donkey to the This tale, and that entitled "The Flitting," in No. 453, were written some years ago by an individual since dead. In the manuscript, as laid before us by his widow, the name of the courty has only the initial L; but disliking blank names, we venture to fill it up as above, believing from other circumnstances that Lancashire must have been meant by the author. SATURDAY, OCTOBER 31, 1840. market-town and gentlemen's houses round, with the most unflinching hardihood. But in spite of such laborious industry, in spite of her unwearied attention to a helpless invalid, there was not a neater cottage than Sophy's, or a prettier, tighter-looking lass than herself, in all the neighbourhood. Her frame was invigorated, not injured, by such toilsome exercise; her cheeks glowed with the brightest, though certainly not the fairest, hue of health; and her eyes beamed intelligently with gratitude to Heaven and modest self-approval. Her poor mother, though widowed and bed-ridden, was one of the happiest of old women; and although her helpless state required many comparatively expensive indulgencies, there was always something laid by, after the rent was paid, with a view of one day purchasing the cottage and its fertile bit of ground, and making it indeed their own. Of course, a damsel who united such excellent qualifications to so much personal attraction, could not remain an indifferent object to the youth of her neighbourhood. Though Sophy never joined a village merrymaking, and scarcely ever rested from her toil, of a summer evening, to gossip with a neighbour, old or young, woman or man, she could not escape attentions and offers without end, from the disengaged of the village, many made by proxy, from thrifty fathers and mothers who wished to secure so eligible a helpmate to their children. Even the miller's son, it was whispered, though probably not by his wealthy parents' special desire, had paid his devoirs at the shrine of independence and filial affection, and received the unfailing answer, "No!" Sophy Rokins was stanch to her principle. She lived for the mother whose life she felt she had saved, since the door of the workhouse would to her have been the door of the tomb, and nothing could induce her to leave her, or even to do any thing which might lessen her comfort and peace of mind. However, scandal-for there is a species of that baneful weed flourishing even in the wilds of Lancashire-attributed these repeated refusals at least to more than one motive, if not entirely to another and very different one from filial piety. There was a hinted story of a travelling merchant or pedlar from "merry Carlisle," who had visited at the cottage in her father's lifetime, and even since his death, in the course of a yearly pilgrimage to the city of York-of a scene in an arbour-a ring and a lock of hair-even of a moonlight walk, and interchange of vows. And it was even so-at least as far as the basis of the rumour was concerned; for scandal, though never stopping at the truth, generally starts with it. The intelligent and sober Cumbrian had made the only tender impression on Sophy's magnanimous heart it ever had received; but, scandal-thou unfair historian !-he, too, had shared the firm refusal, and even, in addition, a cruel mandate, visited on no other applicant, never again to afflict her with his presence. She saw, with northern quickness, that her poor mother's halfextinguished spark of life might yet burn out the brightest part of her own and Graham's, and determined, with northern simplicity of attachment, that the man she loved should not be bound to waste that life for her. She had decided, in her humble mind, on a sacrifice of herself, and was content to abide by it, but incapable of wishing another to share it with her. Graham, however, wanted neither her acute penetration nor her strength of attachment; and her motives were not lost on him, though her injunction was religiously obeyed. Time crept on. Sophy ceased to be courted or talked of; and as the story of the pedlar, for want of PRICE THREE HALFPENCE. being truly developed, had always borne a semblance of self-denouncing inconsistency, it no longer formed a matter of speculation, even among ultra-scandaldealers; the more so, as it was observed that the lady's charms were really on the wane, and that Graham annually visited the village, but not the cottage, as punctually as ever. Newer wonders supplied their taste for theory, and Sophy was left to Heaven and her own discretion. Still the industrious and dutiful daughter rose daily with the morn, and, while daylight lasted, toiled in her well-ordered garden through wet and dry, heat and cold, or trotted with her donkey to the markettown. For upwards of eighteen years she pursued unwearied the same quiet simple course; at last the final stroke came on, and her mother died-closing her life in peace and satisfaction, and with her last breath blessing the daughter who had so dutifully and affectionately prolonged it. The grief of the unsophisticated Sophy was sincere and poignant, at losing the parent to whom all her assiduity and energy had been so long devoted, and great, indeed, was her astonishment at the occurrence by which it was interrupted. Scarcely were the remains of the aged invalid committed to the earth, when every one of her married sons and daughters-some of them now old men and women themselves, with grandchildren at their heels -came one after the other, upon the bewildered mourner, demanding to have the property of the deceased fairly divided between them, according to the law; which thus provides for the worldly wealth of those who are so unworldly wise as to die intestate. The sight of the expected plunder so sharpened their avidity, that some of them would actually have proceeded to turn poor Sophy out by force, had not their attention been suddenly arrested by the clamour of contention arising amongst themselves respecting the different portions of property which each wished to appropriate. The struggle appeared interminable; and even to the most excited, it was evident that many of the disputed objects stood a chance of being destroyed in the heat of argument. Seeing this, they at length became unanimous on one point, and that was, the expediency of submitting the affair to arbitration. With this enlightened view of the subject, they left the sorrow-stricken and astounded Sophy once more to peaceful possession of the cottage; but their rancour and cupidity were greatly increased, as they retreated, by observing the Cumbrian pedlar leaning thoughtfully on the garden paling, and evidently meditating on the scene of violence they had just so shamelessly exhibited. It was the time of his annual visit, and he had passed through the churchyard that morning while service was being read over the widow's grave. Not wishing that the taunts he could easily predict awaited him, should reach the ears of the doubly-afflicted and friendless Sophy, he turned quickly on an angle of the road leading to the town, and avoided the hostile party. The latter, who had but a moment before been so thoroughly divided on the question of meum and tuum, now united in the most social manner in common cause against him whom they knew to have once been a devoted, and whom they suspected to be still a favoured, suitor of their unfortunate relation. It was unanimously decided that no time was to be lost-that the law must be had recourse to; but that, of two lawyers in the town (who lived chiefly on the work each cut out for the other), it was necessary to take counsel before they made an election. Happily, they were again unanimous as to the propriety of consulting Mr Gordon of the mill on this important subject. Gordon was a man who prospered himself, and whose advice, when taken, always prospered too. Among the merely cunning, he held the reputation of being a sharp man" the wiser part of his admirers knew that he was a just one- that his sense of equity equalled, indeed assisted, his penetration and discernment. Nature had endowed him, amongst many other valuable qualifications, with such a portion of good sense as taught him to turn all the rest to the utmost advantage; his was, in fact, a self-cultivated understanding, which extorted involuntary respect alike from those whose worldly condition made them fancy themselves his superiors, and those whose unenlightened minds could show them no reason why they were his inferiors. None, however, held him in more just estimation than Graham Wilson. Theirs were kindred minds, similarly favoured by nature, and expanded by circumstances. Graham had not turned the angle of the road, before it occurred to him also that Mr Gordon was the proper person to settle the matter of Widow Rokins's property. He quickly reached the mill, and in ten minutes' time, these two clear-headed and well-intentioned men had determined on the course to be pursued with the senseless and unnatural claimants of the widow's little property. Sophy, as before hinted, had, some sixteen years back, been more than a mere favourite with him who was now master of the mill; but that was long gone by, and a steady comely dame had as long borne the name of Mrs Gordon, and presided over its domestic comforts, and was now called mother by more than half a dozen rosy urchins. Nothing but a generous instinct to succour the friendless, and assist injured worth to repel its enemies, actuated him now in his readiness to second the pedlar's anxious interference. Setting out instantly to seek some of the unjust oppressors, he met the whole party about to invade his premises. The moment they perceived him, each being eager to speak first, they all burst forth at once, proclaiming every one their business after his or her peculiar fashion; and all with so much vehemence, and in such a grating dialect, that Mr Gordon would have been but little enlightened on the motive of their visit, had he not heard it nearly all before in his interview with the pedlar. respective marriages, to seek to deprive your sister Sophy, who has always lived with her, and supplied her with the means of support she has so long depended on, to turn her adrift, in a manner now, too, that she is unfit for any vile" other work?" was capable of listening, how the case stood with re- The visit of the pedlar to his old sweetheart was very soon reported and speculated on throughout the neighbourhood; and as soon as it was known to have taken place, the jealous relatives watched the widow's cottage, as though they thought Graham peradventure might stow the whole in his pack; but before they could muster force to arrest his progress, he evaded their pursuit as effectually as he had done the morning after the funeral. At last the day of expectation came; and Mr Gordon, after quietly hearing all Sophy's simple story, without making any comment to her on it, awaited the arrival of the rapacious multitude, seated with much composure and dignity in the old high-backed leather chair, in the chimney corner. But who shall describe the scene of that arrival?— who depict the varied, eager, or malignant expressions of the family countenance-or who single out the various assertions of right with which each preferred his or her own claim, and disputed that of the others to this or that different portion of the property? Lost alike in a Babel of Lancashire dialect, and the hoarse tones of rage and arrogance, there was no longer any unity among them, except in all agreeing to endeavour to annihilate Sophy's right even to an equal share. The grating and nasal sounds of the fore-mentioned dialect orthography would but faintly repre sent. Let rather such readers as have ever had the At the first break in their eloquence, he assured them that he had always felt the strongest interest in the family of Jacob Rokins, and would therefore willingly undertake to arbitrate the affair, as he was felicity of hearing it in its purity, imagine its peculiar convinced, and could easily convince them, that either harmony on the present occasion. "Mr Gordon, sir! of the legal gentlemen of the village would not leave I'm sure poor mother meant my goodman to have all a stick for the just heirs of the property, if once sufthe garden tools and things, for I know his father fered to lay hands on it; and he therefore requested always said he should, and who'd a thought o' she the party to meet him that day week at Sophy's cot-taking to that kind of employ like?" "Who indeed?" tage, then and there to make distinctly, and after remarked the arbitrator. more mature consideration, their respective claims, when, if not satisfied with his decision, they could but resort to the lawyers afterwards. This proposal was received with thanks, and the host of claimants withdrew. Meanwhile, Sophy resumed her usual career of toilsome industry, but with a deep-rooted hopelessness and dejection which she had never felt before. Little had she ever anticipated that, in losing the parent whom she had laboured so meritoriously to support, she should lose, too, the means of supporting herself. She found herself all at once, as it were, thrown upon the world, and instructed practically in the mystery of what that world was. It was no longer now, as when her father died; she was not now a girl, fit to be moulded to anything. "Unless I could hire my self as a gardener," thought she," service is quite out of the question." And, for the first time in her life, she felt inclined to ask herself whether she had done well in rejecting so many opportunities of settling herself by marriage. She felt, perhaps, for one desponding moment, that her life was no longer of any value to any one, and, after her unkind relations should have turned her from her garden, of no use even to herself; but the recollection of having fulfilled one duty firmly and consistently-of having rescued her dying mother from the dread of a workhouse, and lengthened out her declining days in case and happiness-quickly returned, and as quickly the faith for any of the comfortable village homes she might, "We knows "Well, you understand the credit of the family' best, no doubt [fresh triumph]; but, after all, this will be but a useless trifle, split amongst so many, for you must know there are many other relatives who also have a claim, if you succeed in proving yours; while, undivided, it is to her a comfortable livelihood." "But out of respect to mother's memory, Mr Gordon, we all wants to have some of her bits of sticks, and you sees yourself it is ourn in law." Well, well! But how comes it, my good friends, with all this respect for poor mother's memory, none of you opened your doors to her when your father died, or even assisted your sister, who was then very young, to support her ?" "La, sir, we all has large families of our own, and". "But have you ever done any thing for your mother ?" "La, Mr Gordon, sir, to be sure we has. I knows I gi'd her a handkercher one day, and that's why I wants" "And I sent her a basket of apples, when she grew bad last autumn" "And I most always came in and wound up the old clock for her, for I was afeer'd Sophy, with her rough hand, might ruin it like." "And, I'm sure, my little Jim often took her water-cresses and the like." "And I sent her a pound of "And I-And Ihoney, only just afore she died." And I" "Were equally munificent and attentive no doubt," interrupted Mr Gordon, now turning to the two last speakers, Mrs Brummett and Mrs Dymock, both much severity, for their want of filial tenderness and women of nearly sixty, whom he reproached with so sisterly affection, that one matron burst into an hysterie fit of crying on the spot, and the other withdrew to her own dwelling, to invigorate her spirits with the contents of a certain charmed bottle, potent on such occasions. "And now, then," said the miller, addressing himself chiefly to the eldest son," you say your sister has worked (like man, or a horse rather, I say she has worked) merely as a servant to your mother, all this time ?" "Very well! Sophy, how old are you? Rather above one-and twenty, I suppose ?" "Four-and-thirty, sir! I bean't asham'd o' my age!" cried the poor creature, in a kind of half shriek, half laugh. considerably affected. 66 Sixpence a-week and a shilling a-week, sir." "Well, rating your sister's wages only at a shilling a-week (which she has never been paid), the estate would be now indebted to her for wages, far more than it is ever likely to clear by sale! Now, what say you? This is perfectly good in law, on your own admission. Shall we refer it to the lawyers, and let them bring it into court?-or shall we entreat your excellent sister to let us settle matters on the spot, and to content herself, which know she will do, with being left in undisputed possession of her twice-purchased property ?" I "I only claims the bed and bedding things, and Poor dear mother's clothes, and all the small linen, and that," cried the eldest daughter, "beside our share "Mother and we always considered so, Mr Gordon; on it all when it comes to be sold." "No, Betsey-and all the neighbours, Mr Gordon." Dymock, you can never want thay things; it's I Hold your peace, Mrs Rokins; you and let Mr Gordon decide," shouted the second son. your husband wants just every thing for yourselves; "Please, Mr Gordon-Mr Gordon-I only claims that looking-glass and the clock, and that there brightrubb'd table and the big meal-chest," screamed Sally Turner, the third daughter. "I don't wish for nothing else but the family Bible and the silver cup grandfather won at the archery, and the six christening mine by right," said the eldest son. spoons, just for the credit of the family, as they're "And I wants the old clock there and the looking-glass, and father's gardening books, and just a few trifling things, pure out of respect for mother's memory," yelled the youngest. "No, Tom! you haves no right wi' any o' them, and the looking-glass I will have, for I was al"Deil take you for a greedy old ways the best." gossip, Sally Turner," retorted her sister's husband, Dowkins-it's no use talking what you'll have, and Jock Brummett; "and hold your clapper, Hannah what you'll have, till we show'd Mr Gordon the appraisement, and see'd how much the sale of the estate will fetch a-piece for us in hard money." This long and learned speech, uttered with more than stentorian Gordon seized the opportunity to open the proceedpower, interrupted the uproar so successfully, that ings, first of all requesting implicit attention to what he was about to say, and candid answers to all the questions he should see fit to ask. He looked at the appraiser's estimate of the " estate," and at one glance was able to inform the thirteen disputants NEXT OF KIN, that by the time that Sophy's share and the expenses of the sale, &c., were paid, three pounds a-piece would be the utmost that remained for them. "But now," he said, "let me ask how it is, that this land, having been purchased almost entirely by your sister Sophy's earnings, the property is not hers?" only worked for mother as a servant, Mr Gordon. She never had no property of her own whatever. The property were always mother's, and were bought afore ever she com❜d o' age, Mr Gordon." 66 She divided among you." Great exultation was shown by It is needless to dwell on the chop-fallen looks of the quiescence which interest instantly induced them to claimants to Widow Rokins's estate, nor the sullen acmake with the latter proposition of Mr Gordon. One after another, they all resigned their claims, as hastily and eagerly as they had before preferred them. Neither need we expatiate much on the restored tranquillity of tation of the constant pedlar, who, by previous agree poor Sophy's countenance, the benevolent intelligence of Mr Gordon's, nor the delighted and uncontrollable exulSuffice it to record that Sophy, after shaking hands with ment with the arbitrator, entered just at that moment. all her rival kindred, and insisting on their receiving each with some article of furniture or apparel, according to the wishes she had heard expressed; as for her gratitude to Mr Gordon, that is impossible to describe; it could only be equalled by her admiration of his judgment and wisdom. Graham as a brother, generously and kindly presented As soon after this memorable arbitration as regard for her mother's memory permitted, she bestowed her toilworn hand on her faithful and long-loved Graham. Mr and Mrs Gordon acted as bridesman and brideswoman at the ceremony; and though "four-and-thirty," never was bride more blessed in the reciprocity of esteem and confidence, and the possession of perfect sympathy; nor all the wealth and accomplishments of nobility, united ever did bridegroom more exultingly lead from the altar to all the graces of eighteen. From that day Graham Wilson renounced his travelling, but he has added a small side-room to the cottage, as a kind of private shop, where he accommodates his old customers of the village with the usual wares, though his time is principally devoted to assisting Mrs Wilson in the care of the pig and poultry, and the eulture of her garden, to which his general knowledge has added considerable improvement. The market is supplied more admirably and punctually than ever; but whatever is sweetest of the flowers, most perfect of the vegetables, and fairest of the fruits, is constantly offered up at the shrine of gratitude, to Mr and Mrs Gordon of the mill. However, there is still enough, not only for themselves and the casual wanderer, but to regale occasionally their village neighbours, and even their NEXT OF KIN. THE BRITISH ASSOCIATION AT GLASGOW. ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE CONDITION OF THE POOR. Ar the sittings of the Statistical Section, during the week of the association, several papers were read in illustration of the condition of the poorer classes in Glasgow and other parts of Scotland. These papers had a high and distinct interest of their own; and we propose here giving, without interruption, a view of the leading facts brought out in them. on again entering the world. The present mode of punishment for crime is not merely useless-it is absolutely prejudicial to a very great extent, and tends materially to increase the evil it is intended to alleviate. The great mass of offenders, when convicted, are sent to jail, or to Bridewell, for periods varying from five to sixty days, and hence, from the shortness of the period, they are no sooner placed within the walls than their minds are occupied with the prospect of a speedy deliverance. Attempts are, no doubt, made to instruct them, and they are put to some description of work; but, for the most part, such endeavours are completely in vain, as virtuous principles and industrious habits cannot be formed in a day. They come out of prison really in a more hardened state than before, and with a deeper sense of their destitute condition; and, at all events, if any good impressions have been made, they are soon obliterated; for, at the very threshold of the prison, they are met by bands of their old associates ready to welcome them, and as they have no calling to which to turn, nor any honest mode of obtaining shelter and subsistence, they are forced once more to mingle with the guilty crowd, and do as they do." At the first meeting of the section, Thursday, September 17, Mr Miller, superintendant of the police of Glasgow, read a paper on the crime and criminal classes of the city. We may mention that Mr Miller is a man of somewhat remarkable history, having been Dr Cowan, a medical practitioner in Glasgow, read* induced, by a natural bent of mind, to desert a pro- an elaborate and most instructive paper on the disease fession in which he was prospering, in order to devote and mortality of the city during the few past years. himself, for a smaller income, to the office he now From this it appears, in the first place, that Glasgow, holds. Having thus the advantage of a talent suitable in its widest sense, is now estimated to contain a popufor his peculiar duties, he has put the police on an lation of 272,000, which of course makes it the second excellent footing, and manages all its affairs with a city of the empire in this particular respect. It has thoughtful energy and accuracy, which his fellow-risen to this amount from 151,540 in the year 1822. citizens speak of in the highest terms. The paper Indeed, no city, even in America, that we are acread by Mr Miller proved him to possess an enlight- quainted with, has increased so rapidly in population, ened and philanthropic mind. He stated the popu- during the last thirty years, as Glasgow. In 1822, lation within the police district to be about 175,000, the mortality was 3408, or one in about 44 of the and the number of criminal cases in the year 1839, population; in 1825, it was 4571, or as one in about to be 7687, the male offenders being three to one of 36. In 1828, the mortality increased to 5534, which, the fernales. The crimes are chiefly petty thefts; at the then amount of the population, was one in 33the value of the property stolen in 1839 was about a proportion alarmingly high. Since then, however, L.7663, of which a portion, to the amount of L.1260, the inhabitants of this great city have suffered still was recovered. "Many of the persons convicted of more severely. In the year of the Asiatic cholera, theft are not habitual thieves; some are wives de- 1832, when the population was 209,230, the mortality serted by their husbands; some are children deserted reached the enormous amount of 9654, or one in about by their parents; and many are led to the commission 214; and again in a year of severe fever, 1837, when of offences by intemperance." Of women given up the population was estimated at 253,000, it reached altogether to an infamous course of life, the num- 10,270, or one in about 244. It would appear as if, ber is 1400, of whose career the average duration after such disastrous periods, the mortality becomes is estimated at about five years. "For the most for some time lessened. After 1832, it rebounded to part, they live in great wretchedness-their personal one in 36, and after 1837 to one in 37, or thereabouts. habits are filthy-they have miserable homes-they Probably this is in some measure owing to the effect are seldom in bed till far in the morning--they of severe epidemics in carrying off so many of the are without wholesome diet-they are constantly least healthy of the people. It is to be remarked, that drinking the worst description of spirituous liquors in these results no account is taken of still-born chiland they are exposed to disease in its worst forms." dren, who in the eighteen years before 1840, amounted The picture which Mr Miller statistically drew of a to 8763. The proportion of the still-born is startportion of the town where these and the other depraved lingly high, being, in 1830, 471 out of 6868, or about classes chiefly dwell, was astounding a close cluster a fourteenth. In this fact alone, we cannot help of narrow filthy lanes, honeycombed with mean unfur- thinking we behold a strong proof of the amount of nished apartments, in which a dozen persons will live misery and error prevailing in Glasgow. in a space measuring perhaps twelve by eight feet, without so much as a window, and often with no bedding superior to a bundle of shavings. Three-fourths of the crime in the city, in Mr Miller's opinion, arises from habits of drunkenness, for the indulgence of which there are in the city 2300 licensed public-houses, mostly of a very mean description, being about 1 for every 117 of the population. There are 33 licensed pawnbrokers, and about 400 of an inferior description, usually distinguished as brokers, who make a practice of giving money for articles by way of purchase, on an understanding that, if not previously sold to other persons, they may be retrieved by paying an advanced price. We shall afterwards see, from another paper, to what an extent the poor are robbed by this class of low tradespeople. Mr Miller showed how much criminals are favoured in eluding justice, by the five several jurisdictions into which the cluster of popula tion called Glasgow is divided, and urged strongly the propriety of having one jurisdiction only. He concluded his series of details by remarking on the inefficacy of punishment to check criminals. "When crime," he says, "has been committed, and especially after conviction and punishment, the character of the delinquent is almost always irretrievably lost. Though he were so disposed, he has no way of obtaining honest employment, for no one will take him without a character, and he is shunned by all. Necessity, therefore, compels him, though it may be against his own inclination, to continue the guilty career he has commenced. He proceeds from bad to worse, until finally arrested by the hand of justice, and made to expiate his crimes in exile, or on the scaffold. Thousands of unhappy individuals, who have once swerved from the path of rectitude, would gladly return to a virtuous course of life, if they had the power; and it is certainly deeply to be deplored that no adequate means have hitherto been provided for remedying so great an evil. The most effectual mode appears to be the formation of a workhouse, or a house of industry set apart for the accommodation of the criminal part of the population of the city, where, by a confinement of some duration, and by regular tuition and industrial occupation, habits of industry and morality may be formed, and the inmates fitted for again mingling with the respectable portion of the community; and it should be a part of the plan of such an establishment, that after an inmate has approved himself satisfactorily to the directors, means should be taken of finding him honest employment The average annual mortality in Glasgow was, for the period between 1822 and 1830, both inclusive, 1 in 384; for the period between 1831 and 1839, also both inclusive, 1 in nearly 32. At the latter date, if it were habitual, Glasgow would stand forth as one of the cities most fatal to human life in Europe. Another fact is most remarkable, that, of the deaths during these eighteen years, 43 per cent., or not much short of the one-half, are of children under five years of age, and 18 per cent. under one year of age. It further appears, from minute evidence, that in the years of unusually great mortality, there is a larger proportion of deaths amongst the adult population, showing how fatal the epidemics are to heads of families. From one-fourth to one-fifth of the funerals in Glasgow are at the public expense-an impressive fact, as Dr Cowan well calls it, seeing how it connects poverty with mortality. To account for the great mortality of the last nine years in Glasgow, Dr Cowan speaks of "the rapid increase in the amount of the labouring population, without any corresponding amount of accommodation being provided for them-the density, and still increasing density, of that population-the state of the districts which it inhabits the fluctuations of trade, and in the prices of provisions- the lamentable 'strikes' in consequence of combination among the workmen, by which the means of subsistence have been suddenly withdrawn from large masses the recklessness and addiction to the use of ardent spirits, at once the cause and the effect of destitution-and the prevalence of epidemic diseases both among the adult and infantile portion of the community." Some notice of the huddled state of the miserable classes in Glasgow, has been presented in our notice of Mr Miller's paper. It remains to be mentioned that a great part of the labouring population live in the central parts of the town, not so much huddled up, certainly, into small apartments as the miserable classes, but yet very densely packed together, their houses being in narrow lanes, which the sun rarely penetrates, and which, for want of sewerage, are constantly exhaling the effluvium of filth and decaying organic matter. This closeness and the results of defective sewerage, no doubt operate greatly in reducing the health of the people. The effect of reduced means, whether from the fluctuations of trade, or "strikes," can be only too easily traced in the mortality bills. Fever, it must be understood, is an epi * At the meeting of Monday, September 21. demie rarely, if ever, absent from Glasgow; and it is the cause of a large proportion of the deaths. It existed throughout 1836, but to what for Glasgow may be called no alarming extent, until the month of November, when a commercial embarrassment took place, and many persons were consequently thrown out of employment. The season, moreover, was winter, and provisions were high in price. The con sequence was, that in the four months ensuing upon the 1st of December, the fatal cases of fever were 696, the number during the previous four months having been only 315. In April 1837, eight thousand individuals were thrown out of employment by a strike of the cotton-spinners; and the mortality from the fever reached its maximum in the ensuing month. The attention of the wealthier classes was then drawn to the state of the poor, for it was seen that their own lives were now in considerable danger. Accordingly, a Relief Committee was established, and large funds collected. A soup kitchen was set on foot, from which 18,500 individuals were daily supplied. Employment was procured for 3072 males. Clothes and blankets were distributed. In short, such measures were taken to alleviate the destitution of the unem ployed poor, that the severity of the fever was miti gated, and it began gradually to decline. On several other occasions, the same results have followed from the same causes. "In 1817, 1818, and 1819, when fever first prevailed in Glasgow to an alarming extent, its ravages were preceded by two bad harvests, and want of employment for the labouring poor; and to prove the extent of the distress, not among the pauper class, but among the industrious poor, it appeared in 1820 that 2043 heads of families pawned 7350 articles, on which they raised L.740. Of these heads of families, 1946 were Scotch, and 97 English or Irish; but the fact most deserving of attention is, that 1375 had never applied for, nor received, charity of any description, though they knew that funds had been voluntarily raised to a large amount. And what were the articles pawned-blankets, sheets, clothing of every description; all the little articles of household furniture having been previously sold, without the hope of ever redeeming them." It is now proper to advert to the amount of fever which has of late years existed in Glasgow; and here we are presented with a view of misery such as no other city in the empire could exhibit, and more resembling, perhaps, the sweeping calamities of eastern climes, than any thing usually seen in our generally more favoured country. In Glasgow, there is a large infirmary, with a fever hospital attached; the poor are also attended at their own houses by certain physicians appointed for the purpose. It is only the cases in the hospital and those privately attended in the above way, that come within the range of Dr Cowan's observations: there must, of course, have been many other cases, attended as usual at the expense of the parties, and we also learn that there were many cases calling for, but not obtaining public aid, in consequence of the want of hospital accommodation. Even, however, when we limit our view to the cases gratuitously treated, the results are appalling. It appears that the fever patients treated in the hospital, were, from 1795 till 1809, inclusive (a period during which the population of the city was comparatively moderate), 1072, or about 11 per cent. of the whole cases of disease treated in the infirmary. From 1810 till 1824, inclusive (a similar space of 15 years, but during which the population was becoming dense), the cases were 7085, or about 32 per cent. of the whole cases. But during the last fifteen years, they have been 27,141, or 52 per cent. of the whole cases: From 1827 till 1839, inclusive, 9665 additional cases were treated privately and gratuitously by the city surgeons. During the five years from 1835 till 1839, inclusive, the deaths from fever in Glasgow were 4788, and the cases in that period are calculated to have been 55,949, of which no less than 21,800 are supposed to have occurred in 1837, being one for about every nine persons in the city! "The mind," says Dr Cowan, "cannot contemplate without horror the amount of human misery which the above statement so forcibly expresses.” Scarlet fever is also a very fatal epidemic in Glasgow, having in the last five years carried off 1056 persons, while the cases are calculated to have been 12,672. Small-pox, in the same period, has swept away 2044, and measles 2448. In these diseases, the victims are, all except a small portion, under ten years of age-the reverse of what is observed in the conta gious fever, where fully five-sixths are above the age of ten. What is most striking about these statistics is, that in London and other large cities in England, fever is not nearly so fatal a disease, and prevails comparatively to a small extent. In those cities, there is as much noxious exhalation, and as great density of population, as in Glasgow; to what, then, can the difference be attributed! Dr Cowan, Dr Alison, and a few other philanthropic inquirers, can discover no answer to this question, but in the destitution which is allowed to exist in Scotland amongst the poorer classes, while in England (among the native population) such a thing can never prevail to any extent, the poor-law there making sure that no one need to remain in a starving condition if he chooses to apply for relief. In the instance of the commercial einbarrassment of 1836, had it taken place any where in England, the unemployed would have been |