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DINBURGA

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

NUMBER 458.

THE SOIRÉE MUSICALE. Ir is just ten. A moderately-sized drawing-room, in a demi-fashionable terrace, is stuffed with from sixty to eighty persons, most of them standing, pressing and elbowing each other, uttering surly monosyllables, scarcely able to move an arm. The solitary lustre diffuses no very brilliant light around it. Tea, coffee, ices, jellies, and sorbettes, circulate with no manner of profusion. Mrs Genteel, seeing and hearing, right and left, a few significant and ill-concealed yawns, exclaims, as if animated by a sudden recollection, "Upon my word, I think it is time we should begin the music."

66

SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 7, 1840.

But, mamma, mamma," says Miss Cecilia Beethoven Genteel, her eldest daughter, a young lady of twenty, who plays the piano-forte passably well, and has even composed a waltz à la Strauss, and a quadrille à la Musard-"you forget, mamma, that Mr Quaver Roulade is not yet come, and you know that without him we can never begin the concert."

"Oh la-no!" said her younger sisters. "The truth of the matter's this," was the undertoned remark of a young man who seemed not to care a rush about music-"Roulade must always be the first and the last to make himself heard." The youth curled his lip with the least in the world of a contemptuous expression, and passed to a small sleepingroom on the same floor, which was transmuted, "for this night only," into a little salon de jeu, and took his place at a whist table.

A gentleman, who was introduced this evening for the first time to Mrs Genteel's circle, inquired of one of the initiated near him who this Mr Quaver Roulade was, who appeared to enjoy so vast a degree of consideration in Mrs Genteel's family.

"Roulade?" replied the person thus addressed; "you must take care how you speak of him. It is right that you should know that Mr Roulade is a very important personage, necessary, nay indispensable, at all musical parties of a certain pretension. He is disputed, contended, fought for, in twenty different drawing-rooms; at least, so he says. He is the son of a fashionable undertaker; but his grave functions have impressed no air of solemnity on his looks, nor have they bespread his person with the hues of mourning. By no means. Roulade is a dilettante by nature-a genuine fanatico per la musica. Not an opera comes out, of which he does not retail the tenor songs. All the repertory of Rubini has passed through his throat in short, he is Rubini-minus the voice! Judge for yourself. He usually waits until he has been very much pressed, before he sings, that being the usage, though he is all the time violently controlling his crotchets. Musical amateurs, too, are always the better of a slight cough. How else excuse their false notes? Roulade always commences by assuring the company that he has a bad cold. But the moment he is launched, like a ten-oared gig manned by Westminster school-boys, he never stops. He makes it a matter of conscience to satisfy all tastes except the true one. He is a music-machine run mad -a barrel-organ with tunes interminable. He gives you no more breathing-room than himself; time is out of the question; of that he is but little solicitous. He would sing a whole trio to his own cheek, if it were possible; and not even Donizetti could compose operas enough to keep him going. In short, he is the plague of all unfortunate young ladies who have learned to touch the piano-forte (which means, I believe, all her majesty's female subjects, without exception), when he solicits of them the favour to accompany him; good manners render it impossible

PRICE THREE HALFPENCE.

that they could refuse him; and it will be strange, oven Genteel, and took his seat by her side, interruptindeed, if Roulade does not keep their hands full. I'll ing her performance each instant with the customary lay any wager in reason that he comes here only be- phrases of admiration-" Braca!-what grace !—what cause Miss Cecilia Genteel is clever in accompanying; lightness !-what a delicious movement! Bra-!and it is not at all impossible that he will ask her Charming! Ah, molto bené! Bravissima !—issima r hand in marriage, if for no other reason, for this- The make-believe was complete on both sides. For that he may be enabled to attach definitively to his not a note did Roulade listen to; and the waltz person and his voice so distinguished an accompagna- being excessively insignificant in itself, a mere remitrice." niscence of Miss Cecilia's solfeggio, Roulade was en"You treat him severely enough. He is probably chanted with the expectation that his performance one of your friends?" would shine out the more brilliant by comparison. "Why, for that matter, I never refuse him a shake The tactics of an amateur singer are as skilful as of the hand." those of a general. He knows how to husband his forces, to deploy them into line at the fitting time, and to keep as a corps de reserve the most triumphant portion of his array. He will commence probably with a fashionable song, afterwards give something vulgar, and conclude with a difficult scena from the opera most in vogue, or some marvellous piece of bravura. All is calculated with him in the meting out of his sweet sounds; and never did diplomatist negotiate more effectually to bring about a point of policy than he to carry off the honours of the soirée.

The stranger felt persuaded that the distinguished amateur, whose arrival was expected with so much impatience, was calumniated by some unsuccessful rival. Presently a servant announced, " Mr Quaver Roulade."

At the mention of this philharmonic name, a considerable sensation pervaded the assemblage, and every head was stretched towards the door. Matrons agitated their fans and turbans; young maids simpered, spied, and looked pleased. The new arrival entered the room with all the self-satisfied assurance which his popularity in society warranted-with the air, in short, of a man who says to himself, "I do you too much honour to set foot amongst you." The person of such a man deserves to be analysed.

A figure somewhat over the middle size; shoulders like those of a porter; a blonde complexion, heightened for the nonce with a sprinkling of rouge, to repair the ravage of a score of balls, attended within the same number of days; a large and somewhat unmeaning face, in a "frame" of thick black whisker (the red roots contrasting strangely, to an inquisitorial eye, with the factitious colour); hair trained into ringlets over the entire surface of the head, like that of an opera Cupid, and descending down his shoulders almost as far as an ancient tail; a nose furnished with wings and open nostrils; great mobility of eye-brow; and a languishing eye, indicating by its expression the habitual practice of warbling passionate operatic morceaux, and tender ballads. His neck was loosely girded by a slight cravat, arranged so that the action of the throat might not be in the slightest degree impeded. A gold eye-glass fell upon a satin waistcoat, flowered with silver;" continuations" altogether suitable. An album, splendidly bound in red morocco, which the Troubadour held in his hand, and which was all filled with the newest music, completed his brilliant ensemble.

"My dear Mr Roulade, you have come rather late," said Mrs Genteel. "You are determined that people shall long for your arrival."

"Is it possible, Mrs Genteel, that your party can have taken the slightest notice of my absence?"

Here Miss Cecilia stepped forward and said, "Indeed, Mr Roulade, we could not think of beginning without you."

Roulade, propitiated by this well-flung incense, bowed and said, "Had you done so, I should have been deprived of the very great pleasure of hearing you throughout."

"You are very good to say so, Mr Roulade-butindeed-I have not composed any thing new of late." "How! not even a waltz? Ah! come now, Miss Cecilia, do favour us."

Earnestly invited to sing, Roulade implored Mrs Genteel to excuse him, for he had come so hurriedly that he was still out of breath, and found himself incapable of sounding a single note. This was all a figment. The truth was, that Roulade wanted in the first instance to get rid of the little boarding-school misses and their little voices. In consequence of this refusal, three or four young ladies took their seats, one after another, at the piano, and gave forth the contents of their musical budget. "Di tanti palpiti!" was squealed; "Zitti, zitti, piano!" squalled; and one little minx had the effrontery to execute "Di piacer!" without benefit of time or clergy. What a ridiculous rage is that which has set in of late years for Italian vocal performances ! Bread-and-butter misses making cat's meat of the divinest musical morceaux, in a language they can neither comprehend nor pronounce! The thing is absolutely atrocious. To ears accustomed to the glorious organs of the opera, it is utterly intolerable; and there is no one thing which makes us more shockingly ridiculous in the eyes of foreigners, than this most inane and ludicrous pretension. I had rather hear a buxom country lass sing "Harvest home," or 66 Peas upon

a trencher," while she is milking her cow, than the best specimen I have ever heard of these boardingschooled, under-aged, English-Italian singers.

At the second of these perpetrations, Roulade suffered a gesture of annoyance to escape him; at the third, he shifted nervously to and fro on his chair; at the fourth, he appeared quite agitated, took off and put on his delicate kid gloves several times in succession, and passed his hand rapidly through his welltrained ringlets. Unable to restrain himself any longer, he at length said to the mistress of the house, "The fact is, Mrs Genteel, that I am peculiarly unfortunate this evening. These are all my favourite songs that the young ladies have been singing. I had brought them in my album, but I am now deprived of every one of them; and I must therefore entreat of you not to reckon upon me to-night."

Here the young man, whose observation I recorded in the commencement of this paper, approached the amateur, and with beautiful sang froid expressed "It-t-tried yesterday," said Miss Cecilia, with all the regrets which he felt, adding that "it was be

a blush and a simper.

"Charming! I'm sure you'll enchant us."

yond all question impossible that, amongst the music of Miss Cecilia Genteel, he would not find some air to suit his voice."

Roulade rushed towards the piano-forte, opened it, arranged the wax-lights in the most favourable posi- A general chorus of approbation followed this sugtion, gallantly offered his hand to Miss Cecilia Beeth-gestion. Every corner of the room was searched; and

the titles were read over of a vast number of songs, which must have found themselves no little astonished to see the light again. "Away, away to the mountain brow!" "Bells upon the wind," "I've been roaming," "The light of other days," "My dark-haired girl" (unfortunately, Miss Cecilia Genteel had light hair), "Rise, gentle moon!" (Miss Cecilia declared that this latter song was detestable, &c. &c.) Roulade, meanwhile, lost the better part of his assurance; for, poor wretch! he saw himself exposed to the sad alternative of either not singing at all, or striving to boggle through airs of which he scarcely knew a note. The truth may as well be out at once: Roulade knew next to nothing of music, and was obliged to strike for a whole week with one finger upon a piano-forte, in order to catch with accuracy the most trivial air. Oh, singular piece of good fortune! here is "We met !" and Roulade knows it "We met !"-that triumph of sentimental maidens musical-that melody which is so exquisite (though hackneyed) in the mouth of a beautiful woman. Now, Roulade was any thing in the world but a beauty, though unmasculine enough in appearance. But he always spoke like one who was capable of every thing, and he proved it on this occasion. A profound silence reigned throughout the apartment. Miss Cecilia Genteel took her seat at the piano-forte. Roulade coughed slightly in his handkerchief, took off his glove, and permitted the company to obtain, as if by accident, a glimpse of a fine antique cameo, which he wore, together with a large brilliant, on the little finger of his left hand. His right hand, concealed by the altar of Polyhymniacommonly called piano-was ready to beat the time, without being perceived by a living soul. He raised his eyes towards heaven, dilated his already expansive nostrils, pitched as large a portion as he could muster of feeling and sentiment into all his features, made a bewildered gesture with his left hand, and commenced

the famous

"We met-'twas in a crowd-and I thought he would shun

me;

Пe came-I could not breathe-for his eye was upon me!
He spoke-his"—

Here the singer, who had occupied himself too much
with the pantomimic part of his performance, forgot

the words.

"Words were cold!" exclaimed at least a dozen voices.

"Words were cold!" articulated Roulade, stooping to read the printed words. In an energetic, and, as it were, triumphant voice, he exclaimed,

-"But his smile was unalter'd!"

And, then, louder still, with a mighty rinforzando,
"I knew how much he felt, for his deep-toned voice falter'd!"
The deuce was in it, if Quaver's voice faltered; for

the pretended tenor had a barytone voice, and his
high notes escaped from him more like strangled
shrieks than anything that musicians wot of. Some-
times it was a low C, bellowed forth as if from a
trombone, sometimes a G above the line, squeaked as
if by an asthmatic flageolet. Now you would swear
that you heard a bull, and now a grasshopper. At one
moment he seemed to draw up his voice from the
bottom of his boots, at another down from the top-
most recesses of his head. Now he plunged his chin
deep into his cravat, set up a rumbling in his intes-

tines, like a volcano or a ventriloquist; and anon he suddenly threw back his head, expanding his chest and his arms, with the inspired air and attitude of a Rubini. If you shut your eyes, you would imagine that you heard a duet performed by the parish clerk and a child in the choir. It is unnecessary that I should make particular mention of all Roulade's false notes, of all his doubtful notes, of all his notes flattened towards the end, of all his infamous shakes, his mock grace-notes, his rascally fioriture! His principal merit consisted in the marvellously pathetic pantomime, with which, rolling his eyes like saucers, and shaking as if in an epilepsy, he bellowed forth like the victim roasting in Phalaris's bull,

"The world may think me gay, for my feelings I smother!” And wound up all, clasping his hands, as, with redoubled ardour, he made the ceiling ring with the pathetic finale

"Oh, thou hast been the cause of this anguish, my mother!" Loud and long resounded the applause with which the Goths (of which, in musical matters, ninetenths of every English assemblage is composed) complimented the singer's efforts. Congratulations poured in from every side. An encore was prayed; but this Roulade resisted, for his object was to de

of Fop's Alley, at the opera; and though the dirine four should be doing their utmost, the like of which the world never heard before, or by four, he is sure to have some impertinence to pass off on his neighbours for criticism.

I shall conclude by laying it down as a general rule, that amateur singers, when they sing, murder music-when they have lost their voices, abuse it.

Then the company velop fresh musical treasures. Mrs implored him not to stop with a single song. Genteel carried him a jelly, and almost thrust it down his throat. "Good!" said the young man whom I have previously introduced to my readers, in an under tone," they do well to give him something Then coming forward, and to sweeten his voice." accosting Roulade, with truly Cromwellian hypocrisy, "Ah, Mr Roulade," said he, "you have indeed sung that song charmingly. Before I had the pleasure of hearing you, I imagined that We met' could only be POPULAR INFORMATION ON POLITICAL sung effectively by a female voice; but you have made ECONOMY. What shall we have the pleasure it change its sex. of hearing from you next?" "I don't know-can't say precisely," said Roulade. But, since the company desire it, I shall try the first thing that comes to hand."

The grossest flattery, nay, the most downright
mockery, is accepted as certain truth by that most
weak-headed of mortals while the fit is on him-an
amateur singer. During the next half hour, Roulade
dispatched "She wore a wreath of roses"-"A baby
lay sleeping"-" Buona notte"-" She sat within the
abbey walls"-"Isle of beauty"-"Teach me to for-
get"-"La Biondina"-"Happy land"-"Our first and
dearest home," and some two or three more of the
choicest favourites of the modern Rosa-Matilda school.
The ears of his audience at length began to grow
fatigued, and then Roulade's exercise was varied by
taking a part with Miss Cecilia Genteel in such novel
duets as "I know a bank," "Love in thine eyes,"
Academy of Music) the magnificent Sona la tromba,
"Ye banks and braes," and (name it not in the Royal
from II Puritani. There was murder, if ever there was
a musical Greenacre. To think of the glorious battle-
call which the magnificent organs of Lablache and
Tamburini make stir the bosoms of the opera au-
dience like a clarion, squeaked by Mr Quaver Roulade's
cracked fiddle of a voice, and Miss Cecilia Genteel's
penny trumpet !

Verily, I shall take my hat, and leave at once; for
I have had more than enough of a soirée musicale; and
Quaver Roulade takes his hat and his leave at the
same time.

Roulade being in requisition in more than one
drawing-room, remembered an engagement at Cut'e-
mout Terrace, New Road; and being now satiated
with applause, squinted at the clock. This being
perceived by half a score of people at once, all the
young ladies in the room besieged his skirts, and im-
plored Roulade not to leave them. But the hero of
the gamut was immoveable in his resolution to depart.
He stammered forth some excuses, took up his album,
which he hoped to sing all through at his second
soirée, and straightway evaporated.

It was now past midnight; and Roulade's papa's horses being all engaged that day in the country, or very much knocked up by a multiplicity of funerals, an epidemic at that time prevailing, to his great chagrin he had been unable to sport his cab. He had proceeded only a few yards from Mrs Genteel's door, when some drops of rain began to fall. Roulade ran forward on the tips of his patent-leathers towards the nearest cab-stand, where

"Smack went the whip, round went the wheels,"

conveyance.

pleasantly saluting his ear with the hope of a dry
hicles was just rolling off with a fare, and Roulade
was constrained to foot it. But, worse and worse!
the celestial flood-gates seemed to be opened, cataracts
descending, and torrents falling. Spouts and the
roofs of houses poured forth a hissing stream, and
Roulade swam rather than walked right through the
bosom of this unforeseen deluge. Notwithstanding
his great eagerness to keep his second engagement,
and discharge his lungs of the contents of his album,
he was forced to sound a retreat. Still his musical
fervour was such, that he hesitated between his domi-
cile and Cut'emout Terrace. In the very midst of
this perplexing quandary, a streamlet formed by the
rain, a sort of metropolitan Rubicon, presented itself
before him. There was but one thing for it-Cæsar-
like to bound over the obstacle. Roulade did so, but,
alas! let fall en passant his precious morocco-bound
and glittering album, which the muddy and guttery
stream carried off in its bosom→→→

Horror on horrors! The last of the ve

"Like the rainbow's lovely form, Evanishing amid the storm!"

NINTH ARTICLE.-MODES OF SPENDING.

In all discussions on political economy, it is necessary to preserve a distinction between the moral and what may be called the purely economical lights in which each subject may be viewed. The effect of a particular operation on the morals of society must be kept distinct from its simple physical influence in making it rich or poor. When this distinction is not kept in view, perpetual explanations are necessary to let it be known that, in estimating the profit or loss of any system of human action, those of a moral nature are not taken into view. The distinction is easily preserved in the other sciences. No one, for instance, ever confounds the natural history of horses with the moral influence of driving a chariot, or the botanical society. The majority of the phenomena of political analysis of grain with the effects of distillation on economy, however, operate through certain moral qualities on which we must calculate; we must, for instance, keep in view the almost universal desire of gain, the parental love of offspring, prejudices in time and place, &c., as the naturalist estimates the operation of the laws of nature. It is almost needless to say, that upon the operation of these moral laws of nature (if we may so term them), we cannot look with the same abstract indifference as on the physical. While we are thinking and writing on them, they are themselves operating within us, and influencing our thoughts and deeds. It would not at first sight appear, but there is in reality scarcely a branch in political economy in which it is more necessary to keep the moral and the economic branches of the question more completely distinct than in this one of expenditure.

Capital was stated in a previous article to be the result of accumulated labour. The method by which the property created by labour is so accumulated, is by producing more commodities than the amount consumed, and reserving a portion. In other words, it is by using the existing capital in such a manner as that, instead of being consumed, it may not only replace itself, but bring an addition with it. Capital so used is said to be profitably employed-the addition said to be made by it to the existing property is called profits. This is a subject which by itself occupies a very prominent and interesting position in political economy, and which deserves a separate notice. It is proposed to confine the present article more directly to the subject of the distinctions between profitable and unprofitable expenditure.

It is a very common and not unnatural feeling among mankind in general, that the proprietor of wealth is the source of its creation, and that in the dispenser of money they look upon one but for whom it would not have had existence. If the rich man has, by his own industry, genius, or success in trade, made his own fortune, the supposition is founded in truth; but he who has contributed nothing to the creation of the wealth he enjoys, is its mere recipient and distributor. The property came into existence without his intervention, and had he never lived, it would not the less have existed in some other person's hands. Having, then, no merit in bringing it into being, all that the successor to riches can do for society with respect to his property, is to use it beneficially. There are circumstances frequently in the very nature of such a service. Its size is a material impediment. of the property which interfere with the performance The proprietor of an unwieldy large fortune has no inducement to employ it profitably. He cannot keep a watch on his own expenditure, and therefore a large portion of it is wasted or unworthily distributed. In a country where feudal practices linger, such as our own, it is indeed among the rules of society that a certain portion of such fortunes shall be thus wasted; that it is beneath the dignity of the possessor to Following the universal rule in such cases, Roulade reckon too carefully about his houses, dependants, fell into the ranks of discontented melomaniacs. Never and equipages. It is never once considered whehe did not attend. Never did he hear an air without was an opera performed at one of the theatres that ther the money he gives brings a suitable return venting his spleen in some such piece of supercilious either to himself or to any other portion of the criticisin as "vicious method” — slender voice" human race. If the merits of the individual were "execrable taste," &c. &c. He is a regular frequenter at all concerned in the existence of the fortune, it

Poor Roulade! His disasters did not end even here. Unfortunate barytone-tenor, upon this fatal night he days, and finished by taking away that voice which caught a violent cold, which laid him up for several constituted his most attractive ornament. Ever after, his recreant throat rebelled against all the efforts of its master to extract from it the smallest sound which even Roulade's audacity could palm off for music. With his voice, he lost, of course, four-fifths of his invitations, and, what was much more, the wellendowed hand of Miss Cecilia Genteel, who married a genuine tenor, that was fortunate enough to make timely seizure of the succession left vacant by the breaking-up of Roulade's organ.

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form, as substantial as they are imagined to be, they
would be far more than counteracted by the havoc
created among the industrious by unpaid bills.

331

unproductive expenditure exists, in the obtainment of
rational enjoyments, will be an index to the general
members will more or less partake.
prosperity that exists within it, and of which all its

but a short time, it is well known, in the service of
THE celebrated Fouché, Duke of Otranto, was retained
NAPOLEON'S THREE WARNINGS.
the Bourbons, after their restoration to the throne of
France. He retired to the town of Aix, in Provence,
and there lived in affluent ease upon the gains of his
long and busy career. Curiosity attracted many visiters
around this remarkable man, and he was habitually
events which it had been his lot to witness. On one
free in communicating his reminiscences of the great
occasion, the company assembled in his saloon heard
from his lips the following story.

might rather be said, then, that such a person did injury than benefit to society. The riches would have existed had he not lived, and they might have been in hands that would have employed them better. Suppose his fortune to possess the character of a large above noticed, given the credit of general benefactors The narrow, self-regarding views which have, as landed estate. The rent which constitutes the pro- to those who have employed certain classes of tradesprietor's riches is created by the industry of the work- men, have often led to the adoption of curious views man, and the skill and capital of the farmer laid out on the tillage of the soil. That soil would have existed the general case, a man's expenditure will be equally as to the place where expenditure should occur. In to prompt their exertions had it been divided among beneficial to his race, wherever it may take place; twenty proprietors instead of belonging to one; and but some shopkeepers occasionally think otherwise not only would the return in rent have probably been they hold that it should be spent among themselves, larger (for the small proprietor has generally greater and they sometimes get a portion of the public to inducements to bring land under tillage than the join them. If a man has a uniform income, which large), but the rent received would have been undoubtedly more frugally and circumspectly spent. his money will produce, in the general case, the he will spend annually on a butcher, baker, or tailor, Thus it appears that, as the wealth arising from great greatest quantity of advantage to the recipients if he estates is generally spent, it does less than its propor- always remain in the same place. The respective tion of good. Any law tending to prohibit, or even to tradesmen who have a set of regular customers, know discourage, the accumulation of large fortunes, would how much raw material to lay in, how many hands to authority of a king, every thing about him, even in be prejudicial to society, by removing an inducement employ, and how much income they may put them- the days of the consulate, began to wear a court-like By degrees, as Napoleon assumed the power and to enterprise and exertion; but, undoubtedly, a law selves in the way of spending. A law, however, tend- appearance. All the old monarchical habitudes were which directly interferes for the creation of unwieldy ing to enforce the benefit of perpetual residence in revived one by one. Among other revivals of this large estates, or for the protraction of their existencesuch a law, for instance, as the entail system in Scot-fringement on civil liberty not to be endured; nor hour of audience, was restored by Bonaparte, and he one place, besides many other evils, would be an in-kind, the custom of attending mass previous to the land-is directly injurious to society. lous and affluent country, where the inducements of Saint-Cloud on such occasions. Nothing could be would it be of much perceptible service in a popu- himself was punctual in his appearances at the chapel which have brought one to reside in a place will gene- more mundane than the mode of performing these rally call a successor on his departure. Any act of religious services. The actresses of the opera were the government, however, which should have the the chorists, and great crowds of busy talkative people effect of removing a large and rich body—the court and legislature, for instance-from the place where chapel, from the windows of which the First Consul they have been in the habit of congregating, would and Josephine could be seen, with their suites and were in the habit of frequenting the gallery of the cause great evil and injustice. It has often been said friends. The whole formed merely a daily exhibition and petitions have been presented to Parliament on of the consular court to the people. the subject-that the legislature and the court ought From their not being so, the present race of tradesto be occasionally convened in Edinburgh or Dublin. men in these cities experience no injustice; but from It is said their custom should be distributed-Scota removal, those of London would suffer much injury. land and Ireland should have their turn, &c. Now, has never acted on the anticipation of getting. The no man is injured by never receiving that which he tradesmen of Westminster (some of them, by the way, from Edinburgh, some from Dublin) set up their business in that place for the purpose of supplying the demand which the existence of the court and legislature in its neighbourhood was likely to occasion; and taken into consideration, in fixing the seat of legislaif the position of any class of tradesmen ought to be tion, it is theirs. The inconveniencies, however, of a permanent change of place, such as took place in the case of Scotland and Ireland, would not be productive of so much evil as might be anticipated. The tradesmen in the new locality might have the start, but those of the old one would soon migrate.

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When the man of large fortune happens to be seized with or driven into a fit of extravagance, his merits as a benefactor are held to be in a state of peculiar activity. He is then under the operation of impulses of active and energetic benevolence, creating and distributing blessings around him. When a great enter tainment is given, which calls forth the exertions of the dress-maker, the perfumer, the wine-merchant, and the pastry cook, there are endless congratulations about "impulse to trade," "benefit to the community," "do a great deal of good indeed," "circulate money," employment to poor people," &c. Surely, if all this good really created by the enjoyments of the aristocracy, those of them who refuse to bless mankind at so easy and pleasing a rate, are guilty of much cruelty, or at least supine indifference to their fellowcreatures. But perhaps if we inquire a little into the real character of these impulses to trade, we shall find that those who act otherwise are not such enemies to society as they naturally appear in the eyes of the merchant who would fain be supplying them with costly wines, or the milliners, who think the ladies of the house do not spend what they should on feminine finery. The mistake so prevalent on this subject is a natural offspring of the selfishness of mankind. The persons who are employed by a man's wealth being turned into the channel of dissipation, are undoubtedly benefited by his taste in expenditure, in as far as his debts are paid. These, then, are clamorous to the world about the benefits they receive at his hands; and as those from whom the expenditure is diverted by its taking this direction-those among whom his money would have been spent had he followed a different career-are not in court to state their own case, the world takes the others at their word, and joins in their gratulations. The mistake on which all this proceeds is, that money is spent by this means which would not be spent otherwise. Before the invention of the banking system, when coin was hoarded in the earth, the supposition was not inapplicable. In a commercial community, however, it is a general proposition that no considerable suin of money remains unused. Suppose the landed proprietor to have some thousands of pounds in his hands, which he does not wish to lay out on baubles and dissipation, his object will be to find an investment. Perhaps he buys stock in a railway or canal, or mining company; in this case his money, after having employed workmen, and conveyed or created useful commodities, will generally return to him with a profit, from which further funds accumulate for the same or other purposes. Perhaps the saving man lends out his money. If the borrower spend it in frivolities, it cannot be worse employed than if the original owner had done so. But in the general case, the borrower will be an employer of capital-say a cotton-spinner or a farmer and then the money having paid wages to labourers, and brought into existence clothing or food, after being replaced, yields a profit to the employer, and another to the lender, under the name of interest. The principal benefit done to society, in an economic point of view, by the person who spends his fortune on gaieties, is, that he gives support to human beings; but the number will not be so great as would have been supported by the money had it been used in the way of trade, because it will not be so economically managed, and very few of the human beings will be producers; the money spent in the general case not only not affording profit, but not replacing itself. A small part may perhaps replace itself with profit. The wine merchant and the pastry-cook may invest the money they receive in their business, but the portion that takes this direction must be but a comparatively small one of the money dissipated abroad. Into the moral operation of what is thus spent-the encouragement to idleness and dissipation, and the seduction from useful and steady pursuits to more pleasing and precarious ones-it is not our purpose to enter. may, however, remark, that the obligations which a We love of pleasure induces men to incur, are among the most likely to be beyond their power to fulfil; in other words, that it is in dissipation that the greater portion of bad debts are incurred. Were the advantages derived from the active expenditure of money, in this

to his wife. The quick and jealous Josephine had
parte in his attendance on mass was rather distressing
At one particular time, the punctuality of Bona-
discovered that the eye of her husband was too much
regularly appeared the form and face of a young girl
directed to a window in the gallery, where there
of uncommon beauty. The chestnut tresses, brilliant
eyes, and graceful figure of this personage, caused the
glances were bent not less often upon Bonaparte than
his were upon her.
more uneasiness to the consul's wife, as the stranger's
Josephine one day at the close of the service; "what
can she seek from the First Consul? I observed her
to drop a billet just now at his feet. He picked it up;
"Who is that young girl?" said
object of her notice precisely was, though there were
I saw him." No one could tell Josephine who the
turned, and one who probably was desirous of the in-
tervention of the First Consul in favour of her family.
With such guesses as this, the consul's wife was
some who declared her to be an emigrant lately re-
obliged to rest satisfied for the time.

The rest

from such a change in the seat of expenditure. A accordingly went out, attended by his wife, his brother
The chief evils of what is called absenteeism, arise naparte expressed a wish for a drive in the park, and
After the audience of that same day had passed, Bo-
penter, and, perhaps, a tailor, in a small village on his nois, wife of Louis Bonaparte. The King of Prussia
landed proprietor employs a grocer, a baker, a car- Joseph, Duroc, Cambaceres, and Hortense Beauhar-
estate, and when he leaves the spot, their income will had just presented Napoleon with a superb set of
must seek their fortune elsewhere. How far such
be so far depreciated, that they cannot live there, but horses, four in number, and these were harnessed to
depend on circumstances. In a popular view, how- the coachman's place. The chariot set off, but, just
an event will be productive of much mischief, must into his head to drive in person, and mounted into
ever, the evils of absenteeism are vastly exaggerated. as it was turning into the park, it went crash against
an open chariot for the party. The consul took it
It seems to be considered, that when the landlord is a stone at the gate, and the First Consul was thrown
go with him. The rent, however, which the landlord prostrate in a stunned or insensible condition. Mean-
gone, the whole industry and enterprise of the spot to the ground. He attempted to rise, but again fell
chooses to enjoy elsewhere, is but a small part of the while, the horses sprung forward with the chariot,
riches produced on his property. In the creation of and were only stopped when Duroc, at the risk of his
the rent, the neighbourhood is benefited to an extent life, threw himself out and seized the loose reins. Jo-
to which the spending of it in the vicinity is a baga-sephine was taken out in a swooning state.
telle. Before the farmer can pay it, he must have
expended, perhaps, three or four times its amount in
a manner so profitable, as not only to produce the rent
itself, but to support himself and his family after feed-
ing a number of labourers. What the farmer spends
in such a manner that it is replaced with profit, is
three or four times as much as what the landlord
would spend unprofitably. In so far as the proprietor
chooses to spend a portion of the rent on improving said Bonaparte. "No one could foresee that I was to
his property, the expenditure is undoubtedly profit-play the part of coachman to-day, or that I should be
"This can have no allusion to our late accident,"
able; but, in general, his agents and stewards will
look after these matters in his absence. In one case,
indeed, the departure of a proprietor would occasion
serious loss to his neighbourhood-the case where he
employs his rent in farming, manufacturing, or some
other profitable speculation, which cannot be con-
ducted in his absence. In this case the money he
spends, instead of assisting in the support of a few
isolated individuals, will, perhaps, after feeding a large
number of workmen, be giving its annual contribution,
in the shape of profits, to the increase of the capital
of the country. It is seldom, however, that men of
this description desert their pursuits unless they
become unprofitable.

of the distinction that must be observed between the Again it may be necessary to remind the reader purely economic and the moral considerations which apply to this subject. It must be on the latter that the extent to which unprofitable expenditure ought to exist, must in a great measure depend. It is diffimoney spent replaces itself with a profit ; and, indeed, cult to conceive a state of society in which all the such an arrangement would seem to defeat the object of the accumulation of property, which is the increase of the comforts and enjoyments of the community. In a well-regulated state, indeed, the extent to which

of the party speedily returned to the First Consul, and
carried him back to his apartments. On recovering
his senses fully, the first thing which he did was to
put his hand into his pocket and pull out the slip of
paper dropped at his feet in the chapel. Leaning
over his shoulder, Josephine read upon it these words
-"Do not drice out in your carriage to-day."

awkward enough to drive against a stone. Go, Duroc,
and examine the chariot."

pale, and took the First Consul aside. "Citizen-consul,"
said he, "had you not struck the stone, and stopped
Duroc obeyed. Soon afterwards he returned very
the reply. "There was in the carriage, concealed
behind the back-seat, a bomb-a real, massive bomb,
charged with ragged pieces of iron, and with a slow
our drive, we had all been lost!" "How so?" was
match attached to it-kindled! Things had been so
arranged, that, in a quarter of an hour, we should
have been scattered among the trees of the park of
Saint-Cloud. There must be treachery close at hand.
knowledge of one plot but engenders a second. Let
Fouché must be told of this-Dubois must be warned!"
Josephine remain ignorant of the danger she has
escaped. Hortense, Joseph, Cambaceres-tell none of
"Not a word to them!" replied Bonaparte ;
them; and let the governinent journals say not a word
about my fall.”

"the

"Duroc," said he at length, "you will come to-mor-
row to mass in the chapel, and examine with attention
a young girl whom I shall point out to you. She will
The First Consul was then silent for some time.
occupy the fourth window in the gallery on the right;
follow her home, or cause her to be followed, and bring

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me intelligence of her name, her abode, and her circumstances. It will be better to do this yourself; would not have the police to interfere. Have you taken care of the bomb, and removed it?" "I have, citizen-consul." "Come, then, let us again drive in the park," said Bonaparte. The drive was resumed, but, on this occasion, the coachman was allowed to fulfil his own duties.

On the morrow, the eyes of more than one person were turned to the window in the gallery. But the jealous Josephine sought in vain for the elegant figure of the young girl. She was not there. The impatient First Consul, with his confidant Duroc, were greatly annoyed at her nonappearance, and small was the attention paid by them to the service that day. Their anxiety was fruitless. The girl was seen at mass no

more.

The summers of Napoleon were chiefly spent at Malmaison, the winters at St Cloud and the Tuileries. Winter had come on, and the First Consul had been holding court in the great apartments of the last of these palaces. It was the third of the month, which the republicans well called nicose, and, in the evening, Bonaparte entered his carriage to go to the opera, accompanied by his aide-de-camp Lauriston, and Generals Lannes and Berthier. The vehicle was about to start, when a female, wrapt in a black mantle, rushed out upon the Place Carrousel, made her way into the middle of the guards about to accompany Napoleon, and held forth a paper to the latter, crying, "Citizen-consul! citizen-consul! read-read!" Bonaparte, with that smile which Bourrienne describes as so irresistible, saluted the petitioner, and stretched out his hand for the missive. "A petition, madam ?" said he inquiringly; and then continued, "Fear nothing; I shall peruse it, and see justice done." "Citizen-consul!" cried the woman, imploringly joining her hands. What she would have further said was lost. The coachman, who, it was afterwards said, was intoxicated, gave the lash to his horses, and they sprung off with the speed of lightning. The First Consul, throwing into his hat the paper he had received, remarked to his companions, "I could not well see her figure, but I think the poor woman is young."

The carriage dashed rapidly along. It was just issuing from the street of Saint Nicholas, when a frightful detonation was heard, mingling with and followed by the crash of broken windows, and the cries of the injured passers-by. The infernal machine had exploded! Uninjured, the carriage of the consul and its inmates were whirled with undiminished rapidity to the opera. Bonaparte entered his box with serene brow and unruffled deportment. He saluted, as usual, the assembled spectators, to whom the news of the explosion came with all the speed which rumour exercises upon such occasions. All were stunned and stupified; Bonaparte only was perfectly calm. He stood with crossed arms, listening attentively to the oratorio of Haydn, which was executed on that evening. Suddenly, however, he remembered the paper put into his hands. He took it out, and read these lines:-"In the name of heaven, citizen-consul, do not go to the opera to-night, or, if you do go, pass not through the street Saint-Nicholas !". The warning came in some respects too late.

On reading these words, the consul chanced to raise his eyes. Exactly opposite to him, in a box on the third tier, sat the young girl of the chapel of Saint-Cloud, who, with joined hands, seemed to utter prayers of gratitude for the escape which had taken place. Her head had no covering but her flowing and beautiful chestnut hair, and her person was wrapt in a dark mantle, which the consul recognised as identical with that worn by the woman who had delivered the paper to him at the carriage door. "Go," said Bonaparte quietly but quickly to Lannes; "go to the box exactly opposite to us, on the third tier. You will find a young girl in a black mantle. Bring her to the Tuileries; I must see her, and without delay." Bonaparte spoke thus without raising his eyes, but, to make Lannes certain of the person, he took the general's arm, and said, pointing upwards, "See there-look!"

Bonaparte stopped suddenly. The girl was gone; no black mantle was to be seen. Annoyed at this beyond measure, he hurriedly sent off Lannes to intercept her. It was in vain. The box-keeper had seen such an individual, but knew nothing about her. Bonaparte applied to Fouché and Dubois; but all the zeal of these functionaries failed in discovering her. Years ran on after the explosion of the infernal machine, and the strange accompanying circumstances which tended to make the occurrence more remarkable in the eyes of Bonaparte. To the consulate succeeded the empire, and victory after victory marked the career of the great Corsican. At length the hour of change came. Allied Europe poured its troops into France, and compelled the emperor to lay down the sceptre which had been so long shaken in terror over half the civilised earth. The isle of Elba became for a day the most remarkable spot on the globe; and, finally, the resuscitated empire fell to pieces anew on the field of Waterloo.

Bonaparte was about to quit France. The moment had come for him to set foot in the bark which was to convey him to the English vessel. Friends, who had followed the fallen chief to the very last, were standing by to give him a final adieu. He waved his hand to those around, and a smile was on the lip which had lately given the fare

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well kiss to the imperial eagle. At this instant a woman broke through the band that stood before Napoleon. She was in the prime of woman's life; not a girl, but yet young enough to retain unimpaired that beauty for which she would at all times have been remarkable among a crowd of beauties. Her features were full of anxiety and sadness, adding interest even to her appearance at that moment. "Sire! sire!" said she, presenting a paper hurriedly; "read! read!"

The emperor took the paper presented to him, but kept his eye upon the presenter. He seemed, it may be, to feel at that instant the perfumed breeze in the park of Saint-Cloud, or to hear the choristers chanting melodiously in the chapel, as he had heard them in other days. Josephine, Duroc, and all his friends, came haply before him, and among them the face which he was wont to see at the fourth window in the gallery. His eye was now on that countenance in reality, altered, yet the same. These illusory recollections were of brief duration. Napoleon shook his head, and held the paper up to his eye. After perusing its contents, he took it between his hands, and tore it to pieces, scattering the fragments in the air. "Stop, sire!" cried the woman, "follow the advice! Be warned; it is yet time!"

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"No," replied he; and taking from his finger a beautiful oriental ruby, a valuable souvenir of his Egyptian campaigns, he held it out to the woman. She took it, kneeling and kissing the hand which presented it. Turning his head, Napoleon then stepped into the boat, which waited to take him to the vessel. Not long afterwards, he was pining on the rock of St Helena.

Thus, of three warnings, two were useless because neglected until the danger had occurred, and the third which prognosticated the fate of Napoleon if once in the power of his adversaries-the third was rejected. "But who was this woman, Duke of Otranto?"

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Oh," replied Fouché, "I know not with certainty. The emperor, if he knew ultimately, seems to have kept the secret."

All that is known respecting the matter is, that a female, related to Saint Regent, one of the authors of the explosion of the street Saint Nicholas, died at the hospital of Hotel-Dieu in 1837, and that around her neck was found suspended, by a silk riband, the exquisite oriental ruby of Napoleon.

[This little story is abridged from a recent French feuilleton, by Maria Aycard, one of the most fertile authors of such nouvellettes now figuring in the Parisian world. There was so much of the marvellous in Napoleon's whole career, that it would be hard to say when or where the anecdotes told respecting him diverge into fiction. Certainly he was an object of unbounded admiration, almost of idolatry, to thousands of whom he himself knew nothing, yet who would have preserved him from danger at the cost of their own lives.]

THE NEW VACCINATION ACT.

We do not know any species of discovery, invention, or improvement, which has been more unworthily treated than vaccination. For half a century it has had to struggle against the indolent prejudices entertained by the bulk of society, and, notwithstanding its marked power of preventing small-pox, and thereby arresting one of the greatest scourges of the human race, it is still regarded by a pretty large section of the community either with indifference or hostility. With the hope that what we write may in some manner reach this numerous class, we beg to say a few words for their special benefit.

How such should be the case cannot be well explained, but the fact is indisputable. The constitution is affected by vaccination in such a way, that those who have undergone it, and really had cow-pox, never catch the infection of small-pox. Besides, children enduring cow-pox or vaccination, do not communicate any contagion to others. Such being the case, is it not wonderful that mothers should persist in keeping their children from being vaccinated? We say distinctly to parents, if you do not have your children vaccinated, you are clearly guilty of incurring the risk of killing them with small-pox, and perhaps endangering the lives of hundreds of unvaccinated persons about you. Think a little on the disgracefulness of incurring such a serious charge as this.

We shall now show what havoc small-pox has been lately committing in England, all through the prejudices of parents against vaccination, or from pure negligence. From the valuable information recently obtained by the registration of the causes of death, it appears that in 1837, there were in England only four diseases by which more people were killed than by small-pox. The number of deaths registered as caused by small-pox, during the two years and a half ended December 31, 1839, was 30,000, which gives about 12,000 deaths annually in England and Wales. It appears that the extremes of mortality at the Small-Pox Hospital in London, amongst those attacked by the disease, have been 15 per cent. and 42 per cent. In some districts the mortality from smallpox is stated to be one in six of those attacked. But if, according to other statements, the average mortality be taken at one in four, or 25 per cent. of those attacked, the number of persons attacked in England and Wales must amount, on an average, to nearly 50,000 persons; thus, besides 12,000 killed, there are probably nearly 40,000, who, although they recover, have at least been subjected to a painful and loathsome disease, with all the disadvantages which attend and follow it.

It appears that the practice of inoculating with the small-pox has been long abandoned by the whole of the respectable part of the medical profession, on the grounds, first, as respects the individual inoculated, that it is much more dangerous than the cow-pox; secondly, as respects others, that it makes the person inoculated a source of contagion, thus multiplying the chances of its spreading, and without absolutely protecting the life of the one person inoculated, exposes to imminent risk the lives of others, who are the more entitled to protection as they have the less warning to protect themselves. The practice of inoculation with small-pox is mostly pursued by ignorant and unqualified persons, old women, and itinerant quacks. Excessive mortality from small-pox is frequently traceable to the proceedings of such persons. Instances are authenticated of persons having caught small-pox after vaccination, and having died, as there are also instances of persons having small-pox a second time and dying from it; but instances even of the former kind are extremely rare; and allowing that the sufferers had been properly vaccinated, a fact which is still more rarely proved, the proportion of such fatal cases is so small as scarcely to affect the value of vaccination as a measure of prevention. ventive of small-pox, the following evidence is given With respect to the value of vaccination as a prein a report to the Poor-Law Commissioners :-" In the year 1827, the small-pox appeared in one of the largest institutions in Dublin, the average number of inmates being between 2000 and 3000. The disease attacked 106 individuals, and was confined chiefly to the nurmothers or nurses, many of the latter having been sery, in which were 141 children, together with their vaccinated during their infancy or childhood, and they all escaped the small-pox, though placed under circumstances most favourable for the reception of the infection. Up to the 28th of March of the present year, thirty-eight cases of small-pox have occurred, and notwithstanding the close and constant intercourse which arises from the crowded state of the establishment, no instance of small-pox after vaccination was observed, excepting in one child, who was said to have been vaccinated two years ago in Liverpool, but on whose arm there was no trace of cowpox."

It is important to note, that vaccination should be carefully performed. If done carelessly, there is no certainty of the right effect being produced. In all cases, it should be performed by properly educated and practising medical men-not by midwives, or ordinary women, who cannot be expected to possess the pure vaccinating matter.

In the first place, let us explain (for this is necessary with many) what vaccination is. It is well known that there is a disease called small-pox, peculiarly apt to affect children. It is a hideous disease, which, if it do not kill the infants, leaves them much disfigured, and also, in some cases, deprived of sight. With the view of modifying this dreadful disorder, it was formerly customary to communicate it from one child to another by the insertion of a little matter, which is called inoculation. This, in some cases, has the desired effect of giving the small-pox in a less violent degree than if taken naturally; but disfigurement, and even death, often ensue from the practice-thus showing that it is no perfect safeguard—while the child who is affected forms a source of contagion to the whole neighbourhood around. Let this be clearly understood. We say, that a child who is smitten with In consequence of the great number of deaths ansmall-pox by inoculation is as capable of communi- nually occurring from inoculation with small-pox, an cating the disease in a natural form as if the child had act of parliament has lately been passed,* and which taken the disease naturally itself. Hence the parents has already come into operation throughout Engwho allow their child to be inoculated, endanger the land, Wales, and Ireland, having for its object the lives of old and young in the same house, and probably extension of the practice of vaccination, and the entire in the adjacent dwellings, or all who visit them. prohibition of the inoculation of children with smallWhat, then, is to be done to prevent these calamities? pox, by constituting the latter a misdemeanour, punishWe shall explain. There is a process called vaccina-able with one month's imprisonment. In adopting tion, which consists in inserting a small portion of this course, the legislature has followed the example matter taken from pustules which rise on the udder of several of the continental states. of a cow; the insertion in the arm of the infant being done in the same manner as inoculation. This matter raises a pustule at the spot where it is inserted, and this is called having the cow-pox. Where the vaccination has been properly performed, the child is at once relieved from all liability to take the small-pox.

We conceive that we shall be performing an acceptable service to our readers, and promoting, in some degree, the benevolent intention of the legislature, by giving increased circulation to the provisions of the

*The 3d and 4th Vict. cap. 29.

act, and the measures which are to be immediately taken to carry out the execution of those provisions. This act is entitled "An Act to extend the Practice of Vaccination," and enacts

1. That from and after the passing of this act, it shall be lawful for the guardians of every parish or union, and for the overseers of every parish in which relief to the poor shall not be administered by guardians, in England and Wales; and they are thereby directed to contract with the medical officers of their several unions or parishes respectively, or with any legally qualified medical practitioner or practitioners, for the vaccination of all persons resident in such unions or parishes respectively: provided always, that it shall be a condition of every such contract, that the amount of the remuneration to be received under the same shall depend on the number of persons, who, not having been previously successfully vaccinated, shall be successfully vaccinated by such medical officers or practitioners respectively so contracting.

Overseers.

2. That in making such arrangements as may be required for the execution of this act, such guardians and overseers, and all other officers engaged in the administration of the laws for the relief of the poor, shall conform to the regulations which may from time to time be issued by the Poor-Law Commissioners in that behalf, which regulations the said commissioners are thereby authorised and required to make and issue. 3. Medical officers to report from time to time the number of persons vaccinated to the guardians or Sections 4, 5, 6, and 7, refer to the arrangements of the medical officers in the various districts. S. It is enacted, That any person who shall, from and after the passing of this act, produce, or attempt to produce, in any person, by inoculation with variolous matter, or by wilful exposure to variolous matter, or to any matter, article, or thing impregnated with variolous matter, or wilfully, by any other means whatsoever, produce the disease of small-pox in any person in England, Wales, or Ireland, shall be liable to be proceeded against and convicted summarily before any two or more justices of the peace in petty sessions assembled, and for every such offence shall, upon conviction, be imprisoned in the common jail or house of correction, for any term not exceeding one month. The Poor-Law Commissioners, under whose direction this act is generally to be carried into effect, have, as a preparatory step, issued a circular letter to the boards of poor-law guardians in England, calling their attention to the several provisions of the act, with a view to the understanding of their object, and the steps to be taken for its accomplishment.

The act of parliament does not extend to Scotland, none of the Scottish members of the legislature, as we have been told, having thought proper to desire that it should do so, although precisely the same evils require to be remedied in the one country as in the other.

many things placed upon the ground or suspended from the walls. Immediately opposite the door stood a large model of Glasgow Cathedral, by Mr G. M. Kemp, the self-taught Gothic architect, whom we formerly introduced to our readers as the successful competitor for the furnishing of a plan for the Scott Monument in Edinburgh. This model is executed with the greatest neatness and accuracy, on a scale of four inches to ten feet, and it comprehends the restorations or re-edifications proposed upon the existing building by Mr Kemp. Glasgow, it occurred to us, ought to possess this very interesting model. Near by, in a corner, we found a model of a different but not less interesting kind-the subject represented being the district of the Western Pyrenees, and the object being to illustrate the campaign of 1813. This is done in papier machée, by Major Sir T. L. Mitchell. Every hill, every path winding over and amongst them-every town, village, and castle, every river and every streamlet is here clearly, and, we should presume, accurately represented. We have been informed that this model was exhibited last winter in London, when the Duke of Wellington visited it, studied it for several hours, and went away declaring his complete satisfaction with it. In such an assemblage of objects, the oddest associations sometimes occur. Very near to this beautiful high-relief map, as it might be called, lay, upon the same table, a patent gridiron frying-pan, made by a Mr Rettie, a brassfounder, a most ingenious piece of apparatus certainly. The design evidently is to broil steaks or chops, and at the same time save the greater part of the juice and fat, which, when ordinary gridirons are used, falls, as all the world knows and laments, into the fire. To effect this end, Mr Rettie's gridiron is made primarily as a frying-pan, but with a pretty high convexity in the centre, and this convexity is composed of bars in radiating fashion, each having a channel running down the middle of it, all of these channels meeting in one larger channel, forming the rim of the vessel. Thus, steaks put upon the convexity receive the fire through the bars; the juice runs down the channels in the bars, and collects in the hollow rim; and, while the process is essentially a broil, the results also involve the benefits of a fry. Dr Kitchener would have beheld Mr Rettie's contrivance with transport. But a truce with whim-an object is before us which calls for something not much short of awe. We behold the identical model steam-engine with which James Watt experimented in his youth, within the walls of Glasgow College; also, suspended over it, the original portrait of the venerable mechanician, by Partridge. The model is a frame about three feet high, two broad, and one in thickness, comprehending a furnace scarcely large enough to boil an old woman's tea-kettle; over that, a small barrel-shaped boiler of copper, supplying a cylinder about the size of a half pint measure; from this rises the stalk of a piston, attached at the top to the extremity of a beam like a balance, the other end of which works upon a miniature pump below. Between the pump and the boiler lies a small trough, into which the water, when pumped, was discharged. Altogether, the apparatus strikes one as simple and homely, and has something affecting in it from that very cause. The portrait is for the first time of the philosopher having possessed a bust, very lively and beautiful; it made us aware a pair of uncommonly fine blue eyes, adding greatly to the mildness of his aspect. It may be added, that the model belongs to the College of Glasgow, and the portrait to John Smith, Esq. of Crutherland. Close beside these objects, we found another of great interest, as connected with the history of steam power, namely, the actual engine employed by Henry Bell in his first vessel-the first working steam-vessel, as is well known, out of America. This vessel, named the Comet, began to ply upon the Clyde in 1812; and station, it was wrecked about 1819 in the Doors of afterwards, being transferred to the West Highland Dorrismore. Many years after, Messrs Girdwood and Company, machine-makers in Glasgow, desiring to have the engine as a curiosity, caused it to be raised from the wreck and erected in their works, at an expense of L.120. It now belongs, we believe, to Messrs Craig and Company, Tradeston (a suburb of Glasgow). The cylinder is surprisingly small, not above a foot in diameter; and the whole works, like Mr Watt's model, are of rude construction. To see these two objects so had also been present the small engine used in the near each other struck the mind forcibly. If there experimental vessel which Mr Miller set a-going on Dalswinton lake in 1788 (not long ago placed by Mr Miller's son in the British Museum), it would have been one of the most remarkable groups of objects which the world could produce. It is to be lamented wish to see the Watt model or the Bell engine sent that they are separate; but certainly we could not out of Glasgow, even to be united with Mr Miller's engine in the British Museum. There is an additional interest in seeing such objects on the same ground which their authors trod in life, where they encountered all their difficulties, and finally made good their

EXHIBITION OF MODELS AND MANUFACTURES AT GLASGOW. AN exhibition of Models and Manufactures was prepared, in connexion with the British Association, in the Monteith Rooms in Buchanan Street. This is a kind of exhibition of which, as far as we are aware, the Adelaide Gallery in London afforded the first example. There was one in Edinburgh last winter, of which an account appeared in the present work. Another and flourishing one was open to the public at Newcastle in spring, and about the same time there was one of immense extent and variety of objects, in connexion with the Mechanics' Institution of Liverpool. The results of the one last mentioned were such as to show how well calculated such exhibitions are, in the present day, to attract public attention. During the six weeks it was open, it drew (at a shilling a-head of admission-money) upwards of three thou sand four hundred pounds, of which all, except a few hundreds for expenses, went to the funds of the institution. A confectionery table, opened in it for the refreshment of the visiters, drew above four hundred pounds, and from the half of its profits afforded a little dowry to the shop-girl who kept it. The show held forth in Glasgow was not of such vast extent, but a very good exhibition nevertheless. After doing service during the week of the association, it was opened to the public at a small rate, and was well attended. In the entrance hall, we observed some models by the ingenious Mr Thom of Rothesay, the engineer of the extraordinary water-works at Greenock. Amongst them was one of a self-acting filter, which was stated to have been established at the Paisley water-works two years since, and to have completely accomplished its object. In the same hall was suspended a loco-admirable designs. motive carriage-wheel, of wrought iron, "forged at a blow." Touched with a hammer, this large mass sounded like a bell, thereby denoting its perfect soundness. The catalogue states it to have been "from Mr Jeremiah Grime, Lancashire."

On entering the lower room, we found five tables, covered with various objects; besides which there were

gentleman's parks, in every minute alighting to open the gates. By a peculiar mechanism, this gate is no sooner approached by a carriage, from either side, than it flies open, the leaves receding from the side on which it is approached. The carriage, again, is no sooner through, than the leaves fall together, and are fastened by a central catch, "which remains down out of the way of the horses' feet, and rises in time to secure the gate." Of the mechanism for causing the gate to open, we see nothing besides two plates of iron on the wheel track, resembling those connected with weighing-machines for carts, and which are made to operate upon the central catch and the hinges of the gate by means of the weight of the carriage when it passes over them. Thus it would appear that a carriage might pass through a series of gates without one moment's interruption, every one flying open, like those encountered by John Gilpin, at the approach of the vehicle, and as readily closing behind it when it has passed.

Again we pass on through a crowd of ingenious machines, many of them of recent invention-as, a patent self-acting mill for spinning wool, by Mr Smith of Deanston, a pneumatic grate, models of steamengines of various kinds, dissected models of chemical manufactories, by Mr Griffin of Glasgow, and many others, the enumeration of which would convey few definite ideas to the mind-until we are arrested by what may be called a curiosity, in the shape of certain hanks of cotton yarn, spun at New Lanark between the years 1790 and 1800, the early days of cottonspinning in Scotland. They are labelled with their prices, which range from 5s. to 6s. 4d., while beside them lie specimens from the same mill done in 1840, and the prices of which are from 10d. to 1s., thus showing the great cheapening which has been effected in cotton goods through the improvement of machinery and the general advance of the trade. Again, a crowd of indescribable engines, including one which we understand to be of considerable importance, a self-acting feeding machine-that is, a machine in which the rolls of wool are made to supply themselves to the machine in which they are spun, the invention of Mr H. Brown, woollen manufacturer, Selkirk; also a patent self-acting reel," which stops when the thread breaks or bobbin empties, or when a given quantity is reeled, without straining the thread," the invention of Mr William Nairne, flax-spinner, Perth-engines these which almost give human intelligence to inanimate matter, and renew, but for a good instead of a vain end, the offence of Prometheus. We have now passed up one side of the room and are coming down the other; and here we have presented to us, hanging like great and gorgeous palls upon the walls, specimens of carpets, of the kind bearing the name of Axminster, manufactured in Glasgow. This kind of carpets, it is generally known, are distinguished as being made all in one piece, with a very deep pile on one side, the other side being, like the back of a picture, not designed for show. For some time they have been made in other places besides Axminster, for example, at Lasswade, near Edinburgh, in the factory of Messrs Whytock; but, in these instances, the pile is formed by a range of boys, who insert it thread by thread, each attendto our surprise that in Glasgow this process has been ing to his own little portion of the pattern. We find transferred from human labour to machinery, these specimens being described as "woven entirely in the loom," by the patentees, Messrs James Templeton and Company. Richer stuffs Luxury could not wish to set his proud foot upon.

the second, at the door of which we find an unexpected The first room being now surveyed, we ascend to sentinel, in the shape of a stuffed and glass-cased specimen of the Alpaca, a hitherto little-known example of the sheep tribe, inhabiting the higher regions pony, with a long neck and long erect cars. Unlike of Peru. The alpaca is as large as a tolerable Shetland its congener the lama, it has long silky wool, of a perfectly black hue, and containing no grease, the animal not being a perspiring one. Some peculiar interest attaches to the creature at the present moment, as a considerable importation of its wool has lately taken place for manufacturing purposes, and it has even been proposed to introduce the live animal to our pastures. Some specimens of cloth made from the wool are shown upon a neighbouring table, and seem to justify interferes with the silk than the wool trade. But we the saying of the manufacturer, that alpaca wool rather have our doubts as to the naturalisation of the animal. The high climates of Peru are certainly as cold as our Highlands, but one of the elements of our condition is wanting there, namely, the humidity. Our rains have been found to rot the feet of foreign sheep, to which the Sir John Sinclair getting home a flock of some such cold alone would have done no harm. We remember creatures, and sending them out to winter on the Pentland hills, with greatcoats on their backs. He quite forgot to supply them with shoes and leggins also, and hence, if we recollect rightly, they were all dead mutton before the end of the season.

Immediately within the door of this second room, Pass we on amongst objects of various kinds-a there is a water tank, designed to exhibit in an appromodel of a drain-tile work, a model of Chester Bridge, priate manner models of steam and sailing vessels, a printing roller engraved by galvanism, and many including a peculiarly interesting set of models, "conothers- until we come to one which arrested our at-structed by a committee of the British Association tention for a little while, namely, the model of a self-appointed for ascertaining the best forms of vessels." architect in Dundee, for saving all the trouble which of cutlery and other instruments, including "a sixacting gate. This is an invention by a Mr Paterson, We pass this, and come to a table presenting a variety is encountered, while driving in a carriage through a barrelled self-acting revolving pistol;" a huge razor,

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