lowing impassioned verses. Hrynn, Muspell, Loke, the giants, and the wolf, are the evil spirits with whom Odin fights :

We

The giant Hrynn rides from the east.
The sea swells.

The serpent that surrounds the world
Turns himself with gigantic might.
The snake moves the seas.

The eagle clamours:

It tears the dead with its beak.

The ship of nails is loosened.

It floats from the cast.

The sons of Muspell come

Along the deep:

Loke governs them.

The raging people press on.
What occurs among the gods?
What among the Elfi?

The world of the giants resounds.
The gods are in council.
The dwarfs groan

Before their stone doors.

They know the paths of the rocks.
Do you know what is happening?
Surtur is coming from the south
With Fire, his companion:
Like the sun shines his sword:
The sword of the god of slaughter.
The rocks threaten destruction.
The giantesses are wandering.
Men tread the path of Hela.
The heavens are cleft asunder.
Then to Hlina

Will come a second grief,
When Odin goes forth
To battle with the wolf.
And the slayer of Bela:
The fair one with Surtur,
Then will fall,

The husband of Freya.

Thor will kill the great serpent.
All mankind

Will disappear from the world.
The sun darkens.

The sea overwhelms the earth.
The peaceful stars

Vanish from the sky.

Fire rages:

To the end of all things,

The ascending flame

Plays on the heavens.

Then will be seen again

A green world come up

Out of the sea.

There the just people will dwell,
And for endless days
Enjoy pleasure.

may learn from these lines, were other authority wanting, that among the Anglo-Saxon superstitions was included a belief in giants, dwarfs, and elves, all of a spiritual order, but partaking in some degree of human attributes and feelings. In the term elf or elces, we have one of the earliest traces on record of those ideal fairy tribes who afterwards figured in the familiar superstitions of the British islands. The Gothic nations, of whom the Anglo-Saxons were a branch, had various orders of elves, who were understood to haunt the fields, the woods, mountains, and waters, and received denominations accordingly, as field-elfin, dun-elfin, &c. Whether this varied race of spirits originated in the east, whence so many superstitions spread into ancient Europe, is not satisfactorily known, although it is probable that they did, and were of the same genus as the peri of the Persians, a being not dissimilar in character to our fay or fairy. Both in the Scandinavian and Anglo-Saxon superstitions, elves formed an important order of beings, not unlike in character the demi-gods, naïads, driads, and other imaginary spirits of the Greek and Roman mythologies, and like them exerted a certain influence over human affairs.

Besides a belief in these mysterious elfin tribes, the Anglo-Saxons brought with them to England the still darker and more dangerous doctrines of witchcraft and divination, before which the reasoning powers of the people quailed, and all intellectual advancement was impeded. The general introduction of Christianity about the year 600, abolished, as a matter of course, the more gross pagan observances, but failed to extirpate the familiar and less obvious superstitions of the people. Witchcraft, wizardry, magic, divination, preparations of charms, and other mystic follies having no foundation in truth, continued to flourish, although opposed both by the more intelligent clergy and the kings. It is from the statutes, indeed, which Alfred, Canute, and other monarchs, passed for the prevention of magical practices, that we chiefly know their nature and extent. Wiglaer, a wizard, and wicca, a witch, are persons severely denounced. Penalties are enjoined if any one should destroy another by wiccecraeft. They appear to have used philtres, for it is declared a crime in any one to use witchcraft, or potions to produce another's love. Canute enjoins his people not to worship fire or floods, wells or stones, or any sort of tree; not to frame death-spells, either by lot or otherwise; and not to effect any thing by phantoms. Wizards, we also learn, pretended to the power of letting loose tempests, and controlling the visible operations of nature.

"Their prognostics (says Mr Sharon Turner, in his history of the Anglo-Saxons) from the sun and moon, from thunder, and from dreams, were so numerous, as to display and perpetuate a most lamentable

debility of mind. Every day of every month was century, the belief in demons, spirits, lubber-fiends,
catalogued as a propitious or unpropitious day for and elves, of every shade and character, prevailed
certain transactions. We have Anglo-Saxon treatises without intermission, and with no further challenge
which contain rules for discovering the future fortune from the clergy than as being individually manifesta-
and disposition of a child from the day of his nativity. tions of the devil, on whom now the whole load of su-
One day was useful for all things; another, though perstition was based. One goblin, in particular, formed
good to tame animals, was baleful to sow seeds; an- the theme of innumerable legends. What was his
other favourable to let blood; and so on." A few name originally in continental Europe, whence he
specimens from the statements of the Anglo-Saxon emigrated with the Anglo-Saxons, is of little conse-
writers themselves on these subjects, may amuse the quence; in England he became known by the title of
reader:-"On the first night of the moon, go to the Father Rush, from a belief that he had on one occa-
king, and ask what you like. [If we may guess from sion personated a monk or friar, and, to serve his own
his statutes, Canute, at least, would have ordered the malignant purposes, had in that capacity long imposed
asker a sound whipping for his credulous folly.] If on a religious brotherhood; afterwards, this appella-
it thunder in the evening, some great person is born. tion went out of repute, and he was popularly known
If new year's day be on a Monday, it will be a grim and feared by the familiar name of Robin Goodfellow,
and confounding winter. When you see a bee fast and performed many useful services in the rural dis
in a briar, wish what you please, and it will not fail tricts of England. It is not a little strange that both
you." Dreams were to the Anglo-Saxons a great monks and clergy sanctioned these fancies, and in-
source of prognostics. They had their regular inter-creased their number by the propagation of legends,
pretations and applications, and served instead of the which we venture to say could not now receive the ap-
lessons of experience, or deductions of reason, in go- probation of a single individual, lay or clerical, in Eng-
verning the affairs and actions of those who trusted land. Of these it is only necessary to mention the
in them. How far they were qualified to answer such absurd stories which were fabricated and circulated
a purpose, may be imagined from the following speci- respecting Dunstan, Abbot of Glastonbury, and after-
mens:-"Whatever we dream on the first night of wards Archbishop of Canterbury, who died in the
the old (waning) moon will become joyful to us. If year 988. When a boy, he is stated to have studied
a man dream that he hath a burning candle in his theology so sedulously as to reduce him to the point
hand, it is a sign of good."
of death, when he was suddenly restored by some
divine medicine sent to him by an angel in a storm.
So extraordinary a circumstance could not but demand
grateful thanksgivings, and Dunstan started from his
bed, and ran with full speed towards the church.
Satan met him in the way, surrounded with numerous
black dogs, and endeavoured to defeat his pious inten-
tion. But Dunstan was not to be overcome; he in-
stantly prayed for ability, and was enabled to cudgel
the devil and his black dogs so effectually, that they
left him, and the angel together; the latter of whom,
finding the church door fastened, took up the pious
youth in his arms, and conveyed him to his devotions
through the roof. Another time the devil attempted
to intrude himself upon St Dunstan's studies in his
laboratory, but the saint speedily punished his imper-
tinence, by taking from the fire his tongs, which were
red hot, and with them seized the nose of the fiend,
who was thereupon glad to make his escape. It is
lamentable to think how such vain imaginations should
have so long weighed upon the understandings of the
people, and engrafted a habitual dread of the super-
natural, which till this day exerts an influence over
the untutored mind.

If any thing were required to show us how deeply such superstitions had become rooted in the minds of the Anglo-Saxon people, the desired proof would be afforded by the fact that these are the very fancies which prevail among the illiterate part of their descendants at this day. In reading such dream-interpretations as the above, which refer to a period more than one thousand years back, one would imagine that he had before him the silly almanacks and "books of fate" which lie in the window-nooks of the peasantry at this day. This feature in the Saxon character, when viewed seriously, must be regarded as a most unfortunate one," having tended to keep their minds in the dreary bondage of ignorance and absurdity," and materially impeded the free exercise of reason, and the growth of knowledge.

Like most rude nations, the Anglo-Saxons regarded all diseases as the inflictions of malignant spirits. Hence their medical science consisted in the use of charms and incantations-a spell to remove a spell. The venerable Bede, who was born in 673, and from whom much of our knowledge regarding this part of English history is derived, tells us that the people, in times of disease, resorted to the "erring medicaments of idolatry, as if to restrain God's chastisements by the incantations, phylacteries, or any other secret of the demoniacal arts." In some respects, the Anglo-Saxons seem to have had notions of disease scarcely more enlightened than those of the poor negro of modern days, who begs a written scrap of paper from the white traveller, under the impression that it will prevent or cure all his ills. Such would certainly be quite as efficacious as the following piece of semi-Latin rigmarole, which formed the Anglo-Saxon charm to cure a fever :

"In nomine dni nri Ihu Xpi tera tera tera testis contera taberna gise ges mande leis bois eis andies mandies moab leb lebes Dns ds adjutor sit illi ill eax filiax artifex sum."

Some of the words here, such as "Dns ds," which are obviously contractions of "dominus deus" (Lord God), would lead us to believe the whole to be a prayer to the Deity; but there are other words, again, such as "andies mandies," which are not interpretable by our poor Latinity, and which incline us to suppose that the drawer up of the charm had been much in the situation of some of our European travellers, who, in making out African paper-charms, put down the day of the month, or their own names, or whatever most readily occurred to them. Even where the Anglo-Saxons knew and practised more rational modes of cure for disease, their value was almost destroyed, in consequence of the superstitious folly which governed their use. Venesection, for example, was often employed; but then it was hurtful to bleed, according to an Anglo-Saxon manuscript, on the 2d, 3d, 5th, 6th, 9th, 11th, 15th, 17th, and 20th days of the month, and equally so, excepting at certain hours, on the 10th, 13th, 19th, 21st, 23d, 24th, 25th, 26th, and 28th days. Did ever folly exceed this? A man seized with apoplexy on the night of the first day of the month, would be left unrelieved till the morning of the fourth, when the favourable hour for bleeding came round. The following recipe, which was designed for the cure of gout, affords a specimen of the medical knowledge of those days :-"Take the herb datulus (tuberose isis). Take the heads of it, and dry them very much, and take thereof a pennyweight and a half, and the pear-tree and roman-bark, and cummin, and a fourth part of laurel-berries, and of the other herbs half a pennyweight of each, and six pepper-corns, and grind all to dust, and put two eggshells full of wine. This is true leech-craft. Give it to the man to drink till he is well."

The introduction of Christianity, as has been mentioned, failed to dissipate the familiar superstitions of the English; a circumstance which can excite no surprise, as no pains were taken to enlighten the understandings of the people, or make them acquainted with the true causes of natural phenomena. We accordingly find, that from the seventh till the sixteenth

DOMESTIC GREENHOUSES: FURTHER INFORMATION RESPECTING THEM.

AN article on "Domestic Greenhouses," which appeared in the 375th number of the Journal, will be in the recollection of most of our readers. The sketch which we were able to afford of this very remarkable botanical repository, has, it appears, led several individuals to attempt something of the kind within their dwelling-houses, which have been less or more successful. Some more information, however, of a more explicit kind, is desired on the subject, and we willingly afford it, as far as in our power.

Any person, whether inhabiting the most humble or the most splendid dwelling, provided it be freely exposed to the sun's light, has it in his power to rear and cultivate a miscellaneous collection of plants, to enjoy the beauty of their appearance, and to watch their progress through all the stages of their growth, at an expense so insignificant as to be within the means of every man in very moderate circumstances. To do this he must provide an apparatus, consisting of a box, with a glass case cver it, of a size according to his desires and means, from the capacity of a small trunk to that of an ordinary closet. We shall suppose he wishes one of a small size, to stand at a window in an apartment of limited dimensions. Procure a strong wooden box, three feet in length, one and a half feet in breadth, and nine or ten inches deep; no top is wanted; it should be painted, or otherwise prepared to resist damp. Two small holes for corks are to be made in the bottom. The ledges should be covered with lead or zinc, and slope inwards. Over the box is placed a glass case, resembling a garden forcing-frame in shape; it should measure 18 inches high up to the sloping top, and then the top or roof should slope inwards on all sides, to meet in the centre. This case must be framed with lead or zinc, whichever be the metal employed for the ledges of the box. (Difference of metal may cause a galvanic action injurious to the plants.) When great elegance and durability are required, brass is used, and the box is made of mahogany. The case must be made to fit with nicety upon the ledges of the box, and in such a way that moisture will flow down the inside of the case into the box. The case should have a door on one side, to open and shut at pleasure, but also to fit as nicely as possible; there must, in short, be no crevices to permit a free interchange of air betwixt the room and the interior of the case. The glass panes in the case should be fitted with care, and the putty well painted, to preserve it from the action of the moisture. The finer the glass is, the better will be the view of the

priving it of oxygen gas, vegetation soon ceases through the whole plant; but the exclusion of light from any part of the plant affects that part only; and even the total exclusion of that agent only deprives the plant of certain properties necessary to its perfection, but not essential to its life. These differences in the processes by which oxygen gas is alternately consumed and evolved, during the vegetation of plants in sunshine, are so manifest, both in their nature and effects, as to satisfy the ascription of a name to the latter process distinct from that given to the former. It might, perhaps, be denominated the chemical process, in contradistinction to that named physiological.

It would contribute much, we think, to simplify our inquiries concerning vegetation, to bear in mind these distinctions: to consider the one process as accomplished by the agency of the air, and essential to the life and growth of the plant; the other, as subordinate, depending on the agency of light, and though necessary to the perfection of vegetation, yet not essential to its existence. In this manner each process may be followed out separately, both in regard to its immediate effects and remoter consequences, without clashing with the other; and the apparently discordant and even contradictory phenomena which on a first view they seem to exhibit, may be reconciled, and considered, not less in theory than in fact, as conspiring together to form one harmonious and perfect whole."

After these explanations, little need be added respecting the supply of pure air to domestic greenhouses. The deterioration of the atmosphere in the case is daily counteracted by an opposite process of purification, so that amidst the vicissitudes of perpetual change, the air is maintained in a state of nearly uniform composition and purity, and serves over and over again for all the purposes of vegetation. It may, however, be stated, to prevent misconception, that the more pure the air of the apartment, the plants will have the better chance of thriving, because there must necessarily be an interchange to some extent betwixt the air of the room and the case, in consequence of the daily expansion from heat, and nightly condensation from cold. This interchange will be effected by the minute crevices in the apparatus, and therefore requires no special provision.

am really ashamed of myself; pray excuse me ; indeed I will not offend again." The lady received his apology graciously, and he faithfully kept his promise. Often when we were together did my friend and I talk over this proof of good feeling, which was the more remarkable in a youth conscious as he then was of having recently distinguished himself; but I was then too young to appreciate it as thoroughly as I have done since. The observation of a long life has now convinced me that the rarest of all qualities is a virtuous consideration of the rights of others in little things and, at that time at least, Canning possessed this quality. He felt that, by his ill-timed noise, he had violated the right of the lady in question, and of the audience in general, to hear the music, which they had come to enjoy; and as soon as he was conscious of his error, he was candid and generous enough to own it, to apologise for it, and to discontinue it.

Stormy grew the political horizon in the years that followed, though, on the whole, he may be said, to use his own words, to have "weathered the storm," for at the period of his untimely death he seemed to have nearly overcome every prejudice against him; and when he fell, a worn-out victim to his public duties, an universal lamentation and an universal plaudit attended his exit.

Among the mourners, I can sincerely say that I was one, and rarely do I now pass his statue without breathing a sigh to his memory, while I am tempted to parody the epitaph on a bard of former days, and exclaim," Oh! rare George Canning!"

THE LETTER-BAG OF THE GREAT
WESTERN.*

dog thing ever afterwards.-I never do. Always judge your fellow passengers to be the opposite of what they strive to appear to be. For instance, a military man is not quarrelsome, for no man doubts his courage; a snob is. A clergyman is not over strait-laced, for his piety is not questioned; but a cheat is. A lawyer is not apt to be argumentative; but an actor is. A woman that is all smiles and graces, is a vixen at heart; snakes fascinate. A stranger that is obsequious and over-civil without apparent cause, is treacherous; cats that purr are apt to bite and scratch. Pride is one thing, assumption is another; the latter must always get the cold shoulder, for whoever shows it is no gentleman; men never affect to be what they are, but what they are not. The only man who really is what he appears to be, is-a gentleman. -I always judge thus. Keep no money in your pockets; when your clothes are brushed in the morning, it is apt-ahem-to fall out. I never do. At table see what wine the captain drinks; it is not the worst.— those who hold opinions opposite to yours; they are I always do. Never discuss religion or politics with subjects that heat in handling until they burn your

THE British public had been so much gratified and worth relating, but it has always seemed to me indi- Doings of Samuel Slick of Slickville," that the anTo persons in general this anecdote may appear not amused by the humorous history of the Sayings and cative of a kindness of heart, which, when combined, nouncement of a new forthcoming work from the pen as it was in him, with splendid talents, seemed a pledge of the same author naturally created a very general of future greatness. I know not, however, whether the same unselfish regard to the minor rights of others sensation in the reading world. This work has just fingers. Never talk learnedly on topics you know; it appeared, and our more remote readers may expect distinguished his career through life; and, probably, from us some account of its character and contents. it could not have done so underiatingly, because the "The Letter-Bag of the Great Western" is the course of the ambitious man must run counter to such attractive title which the writer has in this instance regard. It is not at all likely that he should be emi-chosen, and it is one which gives a hint of the plan of nent for that benevolent self-denial that attention to the work. It consists of a series of epistles, supposed others' feelings and interests in little things, which conto have been written by the various personages astribute to the happiness of private life, and constitute sembled on board of the Great Western steamer, the gracefulness of private character that unobtrusive, but important charm, in which the public phi- during one of its recent trips from Bristol to New is my rule. Be always civil, and no one will wish to

lanthropist is often so painfully deficient; for how often does one see in the eloquent asserter of the rights of nations and of men, the petted, spoiled, selfish despot

of his own fireside!

But if George Canning was ever led, by the acrimony of debate, and the collision of party resentments, into using language which was at variance with his good feelings, I fully believe that, on the whole, he was as amiable in private as he was distinguished in public life, and that he never really lost that kind-heartedness

which I have ventured to commemorate.

Some years elapsed before saw him again, for, though I became intimately acquainted with his aunt and her family, he never visited at the house when I was her guest, and at an early period of my life the Ls quitted N. But I saw him soon after he obtained a seat in Parliament, and when the Pitt administration had won the young orator from his early political associates, and ranked him among their eloquent adherents.

At the time to which I allude, he was standing on Windsor Terrace, bareheaded, his cheek evidently flushed with pleasurable emotion, and listening to George III., who, with the queen and the rest of the royal family, was taking his usual Sabbath evening walk, to the delight of those who were able to visit the Terrace on these occasions. The king and queen stopt some time in conversation with the already distinguished member, who more than shared my atten

tion with his royal master, though I own there were some drawbacks to the pleasure which I experienced

in seeing him again.

The last time I saw him was in the hall of Buckingham House, when the queen and the regent held their levees there, and he had just left the presence-chamber. With what magical rapidity our thoughts fly back

from time that is, to time that was! and then, as

York.

work has rather disappointed us, and that certain
Truth compels us to say, that in some respects this
portions of it appear to us unlikely to increase the
reputation gained for the author by his first produc-
tion. For example, the dedication and preface, both
somewhat lengthy, seem to us to be altogether in bad
taste. What could induce the author, in composing
a work of light literature like this, to step so far out
of his way as to make the initial parts of his volume
the vehicle of bitter political sneers and satire, is more
than we can comprehend. The general tone and
tenor, also, of the letters composing the work, seem
to us somewhat unfortunate. We think well enough
of human nature to believe that out of the large list
of passengers on board the Great Western, or British
Queen, on any given occasion, there will be found
some few, at least, who are neither fools nor rascals.
The imaginary writers of all the epistles, or nearly
all, in the "Letter-Bag," are persons of one or other

of these characters.

While candidly pointing out what appear to us to be the faults of this work, we at the same time admit with pleasure, that many of the letters are well spiced with unexceptionable fun. Perhaps one of the best is No. 15, entitled a "Letter from an Old Hand." His account of his fellow-passengers, and their converse, is as follows:

"The company usually consists of young officers joining regiments-talk, Gibraltar, Cape, Halifax, talk, insults to flag, foreign stations, crack frigates, Horse Guards, promotion, and sporting; of naval men ton, tobacco, flour; of provincials-talk, Durham, round sterns, old admiral; of speculators-talk, cotHead, Colborne, Poulett Thompson; of travellers talk, Mississippi, Niagara, Malione Bay; of women -talk, headache, amusements, and nonsense about

makes people afraid of you. Never tall on subjects you don't know; it makes people despise you. Never argue; no man is worth the trouble of convincing; and the better you reason, the more obstinate people become. Never pun on a man's words; it is as bad as spitting in his face; in short, whenever practicable, dress-circle is preferable to a part in the play. This let others perform, and do you look on. A seat in the

they would. Impertinence seldom honours you with be rude to you; be ceremonious, and people cannot if it so. Never play at cards. Some people know too a visit without an invitation; at least-I always find little for your temper, and others too much for your pocket. I never do!"

This wisdom is of a very worldly order; but if useful any where, such a species of knowledge is so, certainly, on board of a crowded packet. Among the other letters, the one which amused us most was the epistle of Cato Mignionette, the black steward, who corresponds with a friend in the Union, named Lavender. Cato goes through his duties with a good deal of the stoicism of his Roman namesake. "Steward here, and steward dere, and steward ebery where; well, I say, Coming, sir,' but I takes care neber to come to none at all; and when dey is tired of calling, dey come ob demselves to me, and find out to de last it would be ebery bit as good for em to hab come at fust and sabe dere wind to cool dere soup wid." "As to the men passengers," he says, "I always let dem shift for demselves, for dere isn't werry few of dem is real superfine gentlemens, but jist refidge a leetle varnished over de surface like, all pretence. Dey all make believe dat dey know wine, when dam um dere isn't hardly one of em know him by name even. One buccra say, 'Steward, I can't drink dis wine; it is werry poor stuff: what de debil do you at all! Change him directly, and gib me some dat is mean by giving me such trash as dis; he no fit to drink looks at um werry knowing, and den whisper in his fit for a gentleman. Well, I takes up de wine, and put de finger on my nose and nods, and I goes and ear not to speak so loud, ebery body hear; and I brings him anoder bottle of de werry identical same wine, and he taste him, smack um lip and say, "Ah, dat is de wine; always bring me dat wine, and I re

rapidly returning, increase the interest of the PRESENT, Byron; of Yankees-talk, Loco-Focos, go-ahead, dol-member you when I leab de ship.' 'Hush,' I say, 'massa; y forcing back on it the memories of the PAST! It lars; of manufacturers-talk, steam, factors, and not so loud, sir, if you please, for dere is only a werry

was with interest thus increased that I now beheld the celebrated man before me! I saw him in my mind's eye in the concert-room at N then on the Terrace at Windsor, and now I beheld him a distinguished statesman in the palace of his sovereign !

He was still in the prime of life, but his magnificent forehead was become bald; the bloom of youth had left his cheek, the fire of his full eye was in some measure dimmed, and there were untimely marks of age on his expansive brow! Yet I recognised in middle life the same character of face and feature

which had interested me in the youthful student. But how different was now his bearing! How different the character of his person altogether!

about every thing. The incidents are common to all;
machinery; of blockheads who chatter like monkeys
fall on the deck-wet through-very sick-bad wine
cold dinner-rough weather-shipped a sea, and a
tureen of soup-spoke a ship, but could not hear
sulky. There is nothing, therefore, to tell you but
saw a whale, but so far off, only a black line-feel
what has been told a thousand times, and never was
worth telling once, but there are a few maxims worth
knowing."

for I sees you know de good wine when you sees um, few bottles of dat ere wine, and I keep um for you, which is more nor most gentlemen does.' Dey is Mr Labender." The ladies he treats more leniently. cussed stupid is dem whites, and werry conceited too, critturs I do lub em, and likes to tend on em, dey is "I makes sception," he says, "of de ladies; de dear dat is, de white ladies do lub werry stif grog, werry so helpless, poor tings! But one ting I must say, and stif indeed. Mr Labender, you ab no notion of it, no more den a child. "Steward, a leetle, werry leetle weak brandy and water, but mind and let um be werry weak. Yes, ma'am,' I say, and away I goes to mix it. Poor leetle tings! knows werry well what worry weak means-it means half and half, jist as I likes um myself. Well, when I takes it to de lady, she make a face like de cabbage leaf, all puckery puckery, wrinckely This is the beginning of the voyage, I shall not forget wrinckely, and arter eber so leetle of a swig at it, she the end of it.' He never does lose sight of No. 1, and gives um back again to me. Oh, steward, she say, you continue to be No. 1, ever after; best dish at how could you! dat is too strong; put in a leetle drop dinner, by accident, is always placed before you, best more water; dat is a good steward. Well, I knows attendance behind you, and so on.-I always do this. what dat means too; so I goes back and puts in one If you are to have a chum, take a young one, and you glass brandy more, and two lumps of de sugar more, can have your own way by breaking him yourself. and stir um up well wid de spoon, and gib um a I always do. If the berths are over each other, let the little nutmeg for de flavour. Try dat,' marm, I say; young fellow climb, and do you take the lowest one; see how you like um; I most fear um too weak now. it is better he should break his neck than you.-No, steward,' she say, and she sunile werry sweet, de always do. All the luggage not required for immediate lectle dear; dat will do werry well; dat just right now use is marked below. Don't mark yours at all, and always take care to mix my brandy and water weak, you have it all in your own cabin, where you know for I isn't used to have um strong, and um gets into where to find it when you want it. It is not then my head. Yes, marm,' I say; now I knows your squeezed to death by a hundred tons of trunks. If gage, I fit you exactly to a T, marm. De dear leetle you have not reom in your cabin for it all, hint to critturs, de grog he do warm em hearts, and brighten your young chum he has too much baggage, and some de eye, and make em werry good-natured." of it must go below.'-I always do. Never speak to a child, or you can't get clear of the nasty little lap-without any chance of tiring:-"Toder day I sell

The "old hand," whom the rubs of the world have hardened not a little, then communicates to his correspondent these few notice-worthy maxims :— "MAXIMS OF AN OLD STAGER.-Call steward; inThere was a dignity in his mien, a loftiness inquire the number of your cabin; he will tell you the carriage of his head, which a consciousness of No. 1, perhaps. Ah, very true, steward; here is half his importance in society would naturally give. At a sovereign to begin with; don't forget it is No. 1. the same time, I thought there was a slight expression of sadness piercing through his smile. Perhaps he was beginning to see the hollowness of the idols whom he had adored, to feel the emptiness of worldly distinctions, and to experience the many thorns that line the pillow of the statesman! Yet he was the favoured child of prosperous ambition! His talents had raised him to the highest offices in the state; his eloquence was the delight of his friends and the terror of his enemies; he had formed a high and happy connection in marriage; he was admired even by his opponents, and warmly beloved by all who enjoyed the privilege of his intimacy. But, doubtless, the corroding cares attendant on a public station, and a sense of its awful responsibility, were then preparing to fasten on his heart, and gradually destroy the funetions of life. Methought, as I gazed on him, I did not behold happy a man as he whom I had first seen in the concert-room at N, and on the Terrace at Windsor! Yet perhaps he would have been unwilling to own that I was right.

*By the Author of Sam Slick. London, R. Bentley.

One more specimen of Cato's letter may be given some small ting to de outlandish Jew, who no speak werry good English; and I goes into his cabin, and I

say, 'Our voyage over now, him pilot on board; so you fork out, massa, if you please.' 'Well, he stand like a shy horse. What dat you say? say he. You fork out now, massa!' say I. Den he goes round, and he bolt de door, and den he say, 'I give you one sovereign, steward, if you no mention it. Oh,' I say, 'I nebber mention um, master; nebber fear; and I's werry much obliged to you, sir, werry much indeed.' Den he say, 'Here is de forks, and he gave me back three silver forks; 'I took um by mistake,' he say, ‘and I hope you no mention um.' Oh, ho, says I to myself, is dat de way de cat jump? Now I see how de land lay. I come Jew over you, my boy; my turn come now. Four sovereigns more, massa, and steward he keep mum; and if you no pay de money, I go bring captain, passenger, and ebery one.' Well, him sovereign break um heart a'most, but he show him out for all that before I go; one-two-three-four-five sovereigns. All's right now, massa,' say I; 'dat is what I calls forking out.' Jist as I turns for to go, he say, 'How you know I ab um, steward? any body tell you?' Oh, massa,' I say, 'I know de tief so far as I see him. When I clap eyes on you fust, by gosh I knew you for one of dem rascals. No mistake, massa; face nebber tell um lie-he always speaky de truth."" This beats any thing in the Roman Cato's policy; but we grudge Mr Slick's putting the story into a name, which does not represent an individual, but a nation, and that one which we systematically use ungenerously.

Upon the whole, a perusal of the "Letter-Bag of the Great Western" leads us to conclude, that the peculiar style of the "Sayings and Doings of Slick” is that in which the author is most fitted to shine; in other words, that his forte lies in the humorous display of Nova-Scotian and Yankee peculiarities, and in the skilful use and exposition of Transatlantic oddities of thought and language. In that field he seems at home, and naturally so; and we hope that he will soon enter on it again, which he may do with the confident assurance of gathering thence a far richer harvest of fame than will accrue to him from such attempts as the present one.

HARDRESS FITZGERALD.

room, and observing a glowing fire upon the hearth,
I suddenly drew General Sarsefield's packet from my
bosom, and casting it upon the embers, planted my
foot upon it. "Secure the papers," shouted the cap-
tain, and almost instantly I was laid prostrate and
senseless upon the floor by a blow from the butt of a
carbine.

I cannot say how long I continued in a state of
torpor; but, at length, having slowly recovered my
senses, I found myself lying firmly handcuffed upon
the floor of a small chamber, through a narrow loop-
hole in one of whose walls the evening sun was shin-
ing. I was chilled with cold and damp, and drenched
in blood, which had flowed in large quantities from
the wound on my head. By a strong effort I shook
off the sick drowsiness which still hung upon me, and
weak and giddy I rose with pain and difficulty to my
feet. The chamber or rather cell in which I stood,
was about eight feet square, and of a height very dis-
proportioned to its other dimensions-its altitude from
the floor to the ceiling being not less than twelve or
fourteen feet. A narrow slit placed high in the wall
admitted a scanty light, but sufficient to assure me
that my prison contained nothing to render the so-
journ of its tenant a whit less comfortless than my
worst enemy could have wished. My first impulse was
naturally to examine the security of the door-the
loophole which I have mentioned being too high and
too narrow to afford a chance of escape. I listened
attentively to ascertain if possible whether or not a
guard had been placed upon the outside. Not a sound
was to be heard. I now placed my shoulder to the
door, and sought with all my combined strength and
weight to force it open; it, however, resisted all my
efforts, and thus baffled in my appeal to mere animal
power, exhausted and disheartened, I threw myself
on the ground. It was not in my nature, however,
long to submit to the apathy of despair, and in a few
minutes I was on my feet again. With patient scru-
tiny I endeavoured to ascertain the nature of the
fastenings which secured the door. The planks for-
tunately having been nailed together fresh, had shrunk
considerably, so as to leave wide chinks between each
and its neighbour. By means of these apertures, I
saw that my dungeon was secured, not by a lock as I
had feared, but by a strong wooden bar, running
horizontally across the door, about midway upon the

outside.

[Contriving to make an opening, he reaches the door overhears an order given by Oliver for his execution, of the apartment in which he had been seized, and which he declared should take place in the evening ere the moon arose.]

There was a kind of glee in Oliver's manner and

IN the Dublin University Magazine for February,
among other articles of interest there appears a narra-
tive of the singular adventures of Hardress Fitzgerald,
an eminent Irish royalist, who contrived to elude the
strictest search for his person, after the battle of the
Boyne had all but annihilated his party. The narrative,
from which we propose to make a short extract, purports
to be written by the hero himself, and commences with
an amusing account of his living in disguise in Dub-expression which chilled my very heart." He shall
lin; it then proceeds to state, that, becoming anxious
to join the wreck of King James's forces in Limerick,
he ventured on travelling across the country as a
pedlar; how, while on the way, he had an interview
with General Sarsefield, and received from him certain
papers to convey to the unhappy royalists; after
which, on pursuing his journey, he had the misfortune
to fall into the hands of some soldiers, and was brought
before Captain Oliver, a leader in the ranks of his
opponents. At this point we shall allow him to tell
his story in his own words, which give one a fearful
idea of the cruelties committed at that disastrous

period in Ireland.

"Unbuckle your pack," exclaimed the corporal; "unbuckle your pack, fellow, and show your goods to the captain-here where you are."

I proceeded to present my merchandise to the loving contemplation of the officers, who thronged around me, with a strong light from an opposite window. As I continued to traffic with these gentlemen, I observed with no small anxiety the eyes of Captain Oliver frequently fixed upon me with a kind of dubious inquiring gaze. "I think, my honest fellow," he said at last, that I have seen you somewhere before this. Have you often dealt with the military?" "I have traded, sir," said I, "with the soldiery many a time, and always been honourably treated. Will your worship please to buy a pair of lace ruffles?—very cheap, your worship." Why do you wear your hair so much over your face, sir?" said Oliver, without noticing my suggestion. "I promise you, I think no good of you; throw back your hair, and let me see you plainly. Hold up your face, and look straight at me; throw back your hair, sir."

66

I felt that all chance of escape was at an end, and stepping forward as near as the table would allow me to him, I raised my head, threw back my hair, and fixed my eyes sternly and boldly upon his face. I saw that he knew me instantly, for his countenance turned as pale as ashes with surprise and hatred; he started up, placing his hand instinctively upon his sword-hilt, and glaring at me with a look so deadly, that I thought every moment he would strike his sword into my heart. He said in a kind of whisper, "Hardress Fitzgerald" "Yes," said I boldly, for the excitement of the scene had effectually stirred my blood, "Hardress Fitzgerald is before you. I know you well, Captain Oliver. I know how you hate me. I know how you thirst for my blood; but in a good cause, and in the hands of God, I defy you." "You are a desperate villain, sir," said Captain Oliver; "a rebel and a murderer. Hollo there, guard, seize him." As the soldiers entered, I threw my eyes hastily round the

be first shot like a dog, and then hanged like a dog;
shot to-night, and hung to-morrow; hung at the
bridge-head; hung, until his bones drop asunder !"
which he seemed to dwell upon, and to particularise,
It is impossible to describe the exultation with
the fate which he intended for me.
horror crept over me as they retired, and I felt, for
A chill, sick
the moment, upon the brink of swooning. This feel-
ing, however, speedily gave place to a sensation still
more terrible a state of excitement so intense and
tremendous as to border upon literal madness, super-
vened; my brain reeled and throbbed as if it would
flashed through my.mind with a spontaneous rapidity
burst; thoughts the wildest and the most hideous
that scared my very soul; while, all the time, I felt
a strange and frightful impulse to burst into uncon-
trolled laughter. Gradually this fearful paroxysm
passed away. I kneeled and prayed fervently, and
felt comforted and assured; but still I could not view
the slow approaches of certain death without an agi-
tation little short of agony.

I returned again to the closet in which I had found
myself upon recovering from the swoon.

The evening sunshine and twilight was fast melting into darkness, when I heard the outer door, that which communicated with the guard room in which the officers had been amusing themselves, opened, and locked again upon the inside. A measured step then approached, and the door of the wretched cell in which I lay being rudely pushed open, a soldier entered, who carried something in his hand, but, owing to the obscurity of the place, I could not see what.

"Art thou awake, fellow?" said he, in a gruff voice. "Stir thyself; get upon thy legs." His orders were enforced by no very gentle application of his military

boot.

"Friend," said L, rising with difficulty, "you need not insult a dying man. You have been sent hither, to conduct me to death. Lead on! My trust is in God, that he will forgive me my sins, and receive my soul, redeemed by the blood of his Son." There here intervened a pause of some length, at the end of which the soldier said, in the same gruff voice, but in a lower key," Look ye, comrade, it will be your own fault if you die this night. On one condition I promise to get you out of this hobble with a whole skin; but if you go to any of your gammon, before two hours are passed you will have as many holes in your carcase as a target." "Name your conditions," said I; and if they consist with honour, I will never baulk at the offer."

mated to the man my conviction that he spoke the truth.

"Well, then," he continued, "now for the means of avoiding this ugly business. Captain Oliver rides this night to head-quarters, with the papers which you carried. Before he starts he will pay you a visit, to fish what he can out of you, with all the fine promises he can make. Humour him a little, and when you find an opportunity, stab him in the throat above the cuirass."

"A feasible plan, surely," said I, raising my shackled hands, " for a man thus completely crippled and without a weapon." "I will manage all that presently for you," said the soldier. "When you have thus dealt with him, take his cloak and hat, and so forth, and put them on; the papers you will find in the pocket of his vest, in a red leather case; walk boldly out—I am appointed to ride with Captain Oliver, and you will find me holding his horse and my own by the door; mount quickly, and I will do the same, and then we will ride for our lives across the bridge. You will find the holster pistols loaded in case of pursuit, and with the devil's help we shall reach Limerick without a hair hurt. My only condition is, that when you strike Oliver, you strike home, and again and again, until he is finished-and I trust to your honour to remember me when we reach the town."

I cannot say whether I resolved right or wrong, but I thought my situation, and the conduct of Captain Oliver, warranted me in acceding to the condi tions propounded by my visitant, and with alacrity I told him so, and desired him to give me the power, as he had promised to do, of executing them. With speed and promptitude he drew a small key from his pocket, and in an instant the manacles were removed from my hands. How my heart bounded within me as my wrists were released from the iron gripe of the shackles !-the first step towards freedom was made -my self-reliance returned, and I felt assured of success. "Now for the weapon," said I. "I fear me you will find it rather clumsy," said he, "but if well handled it will do as well as the best Toledo; it is the only thing I could get, but I sharpened it myself; it has an edge like a skean."

He placed in my hand the steel head of a halberd, and with a low savage laugh left me to my reflections. Having examined and arranged the weapon, I carefully bound the ends of the cravat with which I had secured the cross part of the spear-head, firmly round easily be forced from my hand, and having made these my wrist, so that in case of a struggle it might not precautionary dispositions, I sat down upon the ground with my back against the wall, and my hands together under my coat, awaiting my visitor. The time wore slowly on; the dusk became dimmer and dimmer, until it nearly bordered on total darkness. "How's this?" said I inwardly. "Captain Oliver, you said I should not see the moon rise to-night; methinks you are somethis reflection, a noise at the outer door announced the what tardy in fulfilling your prophecy." As I made entrance of a visitant. I knew that the decisive moment was come, and letting my head sink upon my breast, and assuring myself that my hands were concealed, I awaited, in the attitude of deep dejection, the approach of my foe and betrayer. As I had expected, Captain Oliver entered the room where I lay; he was equipped for instant duty, as far as the imperfect twilight the floor, as he made his way through the lobbies would allow me to see; the long sword clanked upon which led to my place of confinement; his ample military cloak hung upon his arm, his cocked hat was upon his head, and in all points he was prepared for the road. This tallied exactly with what my strange informant had told me. I felt my heart swell and my breath come thick, as the awful moment which was to witness the death-struggle of one or other of us approached. Captain Oliver stood within a yard or two of the place where I sat, or rather lay, and folding his arms he remained silent for a minute or two, as if arranging in his mind how he should address me.

"Hardress Eitzgerald," he began at length, "are you awake? Stand up if you desire to hear of matters nearly touching your life or death; get up, I say." I arose, doggedly, and affecting the awkward movements of one whose hands were bound.

"Well," said I, "what would you of me? is it not enough that I am thus imprisoned, without a cause, and about, as I suspect, to suffer a most unjust and the few moments left me for reflection and repentance, violent sentence, but must I also be disturbed during by the presence of my persecutor. What do you want of me?"

"As to your punishment, sir," said he, "your own
deserts have no doubt suggested the likelihood of it
to your mind; but I now am with you to let you
know, that whatever mitigation of your sentence you
may look for, must be earned by your compliance with
contents of the packet which you endeavoured this
my orders.
You must frankly and fully explain the
day to destroy; and, further, you must tell all that
you know of the designs of the popish rebels."

my punishment-is it not so ?" Oliver bowed.
"And if I do this I am to expect a mitigation of

"Well, sir, before I make the desired commɩ 4-
nication, I have one question more to put. What is
to befall me, in case that I, remembering the honour
of a soldier and a gentleman, reject your infamous
I terms, scorn your mitigations, and defy your utmost
Of this I needed not much persuasion, and inti- | half an hour you shall be a corpse."
power?"
"In that case," replied he coolly, "before

"Here they are: you are to be shot to-night, by
Captain Oliver's orders; the carbines are cleaned for
the job, and the cartridges served out to the men.
tell you the truth."

THE WAGES OF BRITISH AND GERMAN
WEAVERS COMPARED.

amount for it as was tendered. To set the matter at

"Then, God have mercy on your soul," said I, and beard, and the expanse of forehead, looked like a portrait of Shakspeare. It was also finished in a style, and springing forward, I dashed the weapon which I held had an appearance of age and mellowness, that would at his throat. I missed my aim, but struck him full OPERATIVES employed in the cotton, silk, woollen, and incline almost any person to believe it a genuine picin the mouth with such force that most of his front other manufactures, are apt to imagine that their rate of ture. Some years ago, a friend in London wrote to teeth were dislodged, and the point of the spear-head wages depends merely on the caprice of employers; inhim giving information that he had picked up from some passed out under his jaw, at the ear. My onset was deed, many have publicly avowed as much. We have at noteless vender of heterogeneous articles, a portrait of so sudden and unexpected that he reeled back to the present ro wish to combat this opinion by any exposition Shakspeare, an undoubted original. Mr Winstanley wall, and did not recover his equilibrium in time to of the principles which regulate the rate of wages, but to saw the picture, approved of it, and became its proprevent my dealing a second blow, which I did with call the attention of workmen to one very important cir-prietor. It was the identical picture which was then my whole force; the point unfortunately struck the cumstance which seems to escape their notice--this is before the audience. He showed it to several persons cuirass, near the neck, and, glancing aside, it inflicted the rate of wages in those continental countries which of eminent taste, who all pronounced it an original picbut a flesh wound, tearing the skin and tendons along are now attempting to compete with Britain in manufacture, and set upon it a high value, though they attributed the throat. He now grappled with me, strange to say,nufactures are exported for the use of foreign consumers. turing industry. For instance, a large share of our mait to different masters. He was offered very large without uttering any cry of alarm. Being a very These consumers have hitherto paid prices which enable sums of money for it, which, however, he refused, on powerful man, and if any thing rather heavier and the very proper principle, that if it were an original our employers to give a certain rate of wages; but these portrait of Shakspeare, such a rarity was inestimable, more strongly built than I, he succeeded in drawing consumers are gradually limiting their orders for British and if it were not, he had no right to take any such me with him to the ground. We fell together, with goods, because they can get the same kind of articles a heavy crash, tugging and straining in what we were cheaper elsewhere. And why cheaper? Because these both conscious was a mortal struggle. At length I articles are manufactured by artisans who work at a half succeeded in getting over him, and struck him twice or third of the amount of wages paid in this country. more. The weapon which I wielded had lighted upon Thus, British artisans are brought into direct competition the eye, and the point penetrated the brain; the body with their continental brethren. quivered under me, the deadly grasp relaxed, and Oliver lay upon the ground a corpse! As I arose and shook the weapon and the bloody cloth from my hand, the moon, which he had foretold I should never see rise, shone bright and broad into the room, and disclosed, with ghastly distinctness, the mangled features of the dead soldier. It is hard to say with what feelings I looked upon the unsightly and revolting mass which had so lately been a living and a comely man. I had not any time, however, to spare for reflection; the deed was done; the responsibility was upon me, and all was registered in the book of that God who judges rightly.

With eager haste I removed from the body such of the military accoutrements as were necessary for the purpose of my disguise. I buckled on the sword, drew off the military boots, and donned them myself, placed the brigadier wig and cocked hat upon my head, threw on the cloak, drew it up about my face, and proceeded with the papers, which I found as the soldier had foretold me, and the key of the outer lobby, to the door of the guard-room; this I opened, and with a firm and rapid tread walked through the officers, who rose as I entered, and passed without question or interruption to the street door. Here I was met by the grim-looking corporal, Hewson, who, saluting me, said, "How soon, captain, shall the file be drawn out, and the prisoner dispatched?" "In half an hour," I replied, without raising my voice. The man again saluted, and in two steps I reached the soldier who held the two horses, as he had intimated.

66

"Is all right?" said he, eagerly. Ay," said I; "which horse am I to mount?" He satisfied me upon this point, and I threw myself into the saddle; the soldier mounted his horse, and dashing the spurs into the flanks of the animal which I bestrode, we thundered along the narrow bridge. At the far extremity, a sentinel, as we approached, called out, "Who goes there?-stand and give the word." Heedless of the interruption, with my heart bounding with excitement, I dashed on; so did also the soldier who accompanied me. The sentinel fired.

"Hurrah!" I shouted; "try it again, my boy," and away we went at a gallop, which bade fair to distance every thing like pursuit. Never was spur more needed, however; for soon the clatter of horses' hoofs, in full speed, crossing the bridge, came sharp and clear through the stillness of the night. Away we went, with our pursuers close behind. One mile was passed, another nearly completed. The moon now shone forth, and turning in the saddle, I looked back upon the road we had passed. One trooper had headed the rest, and was within a hundred yards of us. I saw the fellow throw himself from his horse upon the ground. I knew his object, and said to my comrade, "Lower your body; lie flat over the saddle; the fellow is going to fire." I had hardly spoken when the report of a carbine startled the echoes, and the ball striking the hind leg of my companion's horse, the poor animal fell headlong upon the road, throwing his rider head foremost over the saddle. My first impulse was to stop and share whatever fate might await my comrade; but my second and wiser one was to spur on, and save myself and my dispatch. I rode on at a gallop. Turning to observe my comrade's fate, I saw his pursuer, having remounted, ride rapidly up to him, and on reaching the spot where the man and horse lay, rein in and dismount. He was hardly upon the ground, when my companion shot him dead with one of the holster pistols which he had drawn from the pipe, and leaping nimbly over a ditch at the side of the road, he was soon lost among the ditches and thorn bushes which covered that part of the country. Another mile being passed, I had the satisfaction to perceive that the pursuit was given over, and in an hour more I crossed Thomond Bridge, and slept that night in the fortress of Limerick, having delivered the packet, the result of whose safe arrival was the destruction of William's great train of artillery, then upon its way to the besiegers.

Years after this adventure, I met in France a young officer, who I found had served in Captain Oliver's regiment, and he explained what I had never before understood-the motives of the man who had wrought my deliverance. Strange to say, he was the foster brother of Oliver, whom he thus devoted to death, in revenge for the most grievous wrong which one man can inflict upon another!

To descend to particulars, let us take the case of an English and a German hand-loom cotton-weaver. The Englishman, with all his skill and perseverance, and probably toiling twelve hours a day, cannot earn more than six shillings per week; a sum very inadequate for supporting an able-bodied man and his family, considering the high price of food and other necessaries of life. Still, miserable as is this weekly pittance, it is about three times more than is earned by the German or Saxon weaver, at the same kind of work. "It is stated on the best authority (says Mr Porter*), that, in October 1837, a man (in Saxony) employed very diligently from Monday morning until Saturday night, from five o'clock in the morning until dusk, and even at times with a lamp, his wife assisting him in finishing and taking home the work, could not probably earn more than 20 groshen (2s. 6d. sterling, a groshen being 1d.) per week, and that another man, who had three children aged twelve years and upwards, all working at the loom as well as himself, with his wife employed doing up the work, could not earn in the whole more than I dollar 8 groshen (5s. 4d.) weekly."

Making every allowance for the greater cheapness of
food in Saxony than in England, it is certain that the
Saxon workmen subsist on the most wretched fare, their
diet being almost exclusively of vegetables, and to a
limited extent. But neither the quality nor the amount
of their physical comforts affects the present question.
The thing we have to look to is their wages. It is evi-
dent, that, from the necessity of their situation, they
work for about 2s. or 2s. 6d. a-week, which is from a half
to a third of the weaver's wage in this country; conse-
quently, those who employ them are enabled to undersell
the British manufacturer to the amount of that saving.
It is no doubt exceedingly hard that the rate of wages
in Saxony should thus force down the wages of British
operatives to starvation point; but how is the evil to be
remedied? We possess no power to compel Saxon
weavers to take higher wages, nor to prevent Saxon
manufacturers from underselling us.

Hitherto, Britain has successfully competed with 'con-
tinental nations solely from its superior skill and capital,
chiefly the latter; but continental nations, during a
twenty-five years' peace, have discovered the trick of
British success, as we may call it. In Saxony, to which
we have above referred, joint-stock companies were formed
in 1837, for the purpose of investing capital in machinery,
and are now proceeding to the accomplishment of their
objects. It may be some years before these and other
newly formed establishments on the continent can tho-
roughly compete with the well-regulated concerns of
Britain; but there is no reason why such an event should
not occur some time or other. This is a contingency
(already in part realised) which it behoves both British
operatives and capitalists to look boldly in the face; and
we agree with the authority already quoted, that "there
appears to be but one course open to us in order to avert
the evil-that of still further liberalising our commercial
system, and especially of lessening the cost of the prime
necessaries of life, by abolishing all restrictions on the
importation of food.""

MANUFACTURED PICTURES.
MR WINSTANLEY, of Liverpool, in the course of a lecture
Royal Institution of that town, related an anecdote which
on portrait painting, recently delivered by him at the
may enlighten as well as interest the patrons of old pic-
tures. The high character of Mr Winstanley secures him
from the suspicion that he has at all exaggerated the
statement; but we believe there are many persons who
could relate stories equally striking and equally true.
It is notorious that in England there are hundreds of
Titians, Vandykes, and Raphaels, the canvass for which
was manufactured in the nineteenth century; the impo-
sitions practised upon English buyers on the continent
are so notorious as to have become proverbial; and of
the eight thousand works by foreign masters annually
imported into this country, perhaps it would not be
too much to say, ninety-nine out of every hundred
are forgeries. Yet noblemen and gentlemen will be
cheated with their eyes open, and very frequently
crowd their rooms with base imitations, when, for half
the sum they have expended, they might have procured
good and true works by accomplished artists, and at
the same time have had the proud and happy knowledge
that they had contributed to advance the glory of their
country, and the interest of its men of genius. We quote
the anecdote related by Mr Winstanley, as one of the
most circumstantial and best authenticated that has ever
been recorded:-He exhibited to the audience a small
picture, which, from the peculiar costume, the cut of the

* Progress of the Nation, by G. R. Porter. 2 vols. 1839.

rest, he took the picture to London, where he called upon an individual whom he found repairing a portrait of Nell Gwynne. This person informed him, in his peculiar way, that he had made many portraits of Shakspeare, and he had no doubt he could tell him something respecting the one in question. The moment the picture was placed before him, he said, "Oh, that is my old friend." On being pressed for an explanation, he said that it had been made by a pupil of his-a person whom he had taught to manufacture portraits of Shakspeare. It was one of a pair of old pictures of an ancient gentleman and lady of they thought it might be made to look very like Shakthe Elizabethan age. From the costume and features heightened the forehead, altered the hair and beard, and speare. Accordingly, under his direction his pupil put in a few touches, which made the old man into a Shakspeare. This sort of deception Mr Winstanley assured the assembly had not been uncommon; and thus a picture for which he might have had five hundred guineas, turned out to be worthless.-Art- Union.

CONSCIENCE.

Locke has demonstrated that we have neither innate ideas nor innate principles, and he was obliged to demonstrate it too much at length, because at the time the contrary was universally believed. From hence it evidently follows that we have the utmost possible necessity that good principles should be lodged in our heads, when we come to use the faculty of understanding. Locke cites the example of savages who kill and eat their neighbours without the slightest remorse of conscience, and of well-educated Christian soldiers, who, in a town taken by assault, pillage, slay, and ravish, not only without remorse, but with the utmost pleasure, with honour and glory, with the applause of all their comrades. It results from all this, that we have no other conscience than that with which we are inspired by time, by example, by our temperament, and by our reflections. Man is not born with any principle, but with the faculty of receiving all. His temperament will render him inclined to cruelty or to kindness; his understanding will, in time, enable him to comprehend that the square of twelve is one hundred and forty-four, that he ought not to do to others that which he does not wish to be done to himself; but he will not of himself comprehend these truths in his infancy-he will not understand the first,

and he will not feel the second.

A young savage who is hungry, and to whom his father shall give a slice of another savage to eat, will require the same the next day, without imagining that he ought not to treat his neighbour otherwise than he would wish to be treated himself. He does mechanically, invincibly, exactly, the reverse of what this eternal truth teaches. Nature has provided for this horror. She has given to man the disposition to pity, and the ability to comprehend the truth. These two gifts of God are the foundations of civilised society. They have caused that there should be so few anthropophagi, they have rendered life

somewhat tolerable in civilised countries. Fathers and mothers give their children an education which soon renders them sociable, and that education gives them conscience.

Pure religion and pure morality imparted at an early age, so form human nature, that from about seven years of age till sixteen or seventeen, no bad action is committed without the reproof of conscience. Then succeed the violent passions which combat the conscience, and sometimes extinguish it. During this conflict, the persons tormented by the storm consult on some occasions with other men, as in their sickness they consult those who appear to be in health. It is this which produces casuists-that is, persons who decide cases of conscience. One of the wisest of casuists is Cicero. In his book De Officiis-that is, on the Duties of Man-he examines the

most delicate points, but long before him Zoroaster had appeared to regulate the conscience by the best of precepts- Being in doubt whether an action be good or bad, abstain from it.”—Translated from the French by Zac.---From a newspaper.

A HABIT IN THE ENGLISH MIND.

There is a decided tendency in the English mind to ask what may be the consequences of a proposition, before inquiring into its validity; as if it were possible, by a bare act of human volition, to make that which is, a nonentity-or that which is not, a reality. In the instance of geology, the habit (for it is but a habit) has been productive of the most mischievous results, and has covered some very worthy and respectable writers with a ridicule, which has reflected on the national character in the eyes of scientific Europe.-Athenæum, Oct. 12.

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