woman is turned into tears.

'Sit down,' said he, 'my poor friend-my unhappy accomplice! We were separated for the good of both, and we meet again to complete the plan of a higher, wiser Power. A circumstance the most inconceivably trifling, the most apparently fortuitous, gave a different colour to our whole fortunes-a different direction to our whole lives. As a stone interposed in the course of a stream divides it in two, sending one portion through a garden and the other through a desert, so that circumstance made you a convict, and me-what you see. I was placed in circumstances where the wildnesses and indiscretions of youth were subdued, and my heart touched and changed even by prosperity; while you were permitted to pass from folly into guilt, that your more masculine nature might be wrung by its invariable attendant-misery. Sit down, Walter: let us be thankful for even the worst of the past, and look forward bravely, hopefully, confidingly to the

future!'

Twenty years before, we have said, these two had sat in the same room; and twenty years after the present meeting they were still occasionally there together. But the same difference continued in their appearance and position. Walter was for many years the governor of a neighbouring prison, his cousin (never known as such) being security for him to a considerable amount; and he was highly respected in the country-side both for his firmness and humanity. They are now both dead; but though sleeping in the same churchyard, their relative rank is undisturbed. There is a tomb, which is one of the lions of the place, bearing an inscription commemorative of the talents and virtues of the deceased, and of his public services in the prevention of crime and the reformation of criminals. Near it is a plain slab, recording merely the name and age of the dead. And even this humble legend is nearly effaced by the footsteps of the visitors, who stand upon it to view the more remarkable monument. These are the tombs of the two felons.

VISIT TO THE BICÊTRE. As superintendent of an asylum for the insane in one of the northern counties of England, I had for some time felt desirous of visiting Paris, for the purpose of examining the methods there pursued for cultivating the faculties and improving the habits of children of naturally weak intellect. This visit I was lately able to perform; and considering that what I saw may be usefully made known in my own country, I beg leave to do so through the medium of the Edinburgh Journal.*

The principal establishment for the reception of idiot children at Paris is the Bicêtre, a large hospital pleasantly situated on a rising-ground a short way from town. Aware that the French begin their labours at an early hour,

*This paper has been forwarded to us from a respectable quarter, and though referring to a subject already noticed in these pages (No. 614, first series), its importance to society, not to speak of its consolatoriness to many an unhappy parent, induces us to give it lace.-ED. C. E. J.

and anxious fully to examine the subject which attracted me to this famed institution, I set out from my hotel soon after break of day on a fine autumn morning in the month of October. Before reaching my destination, the sun had completely risen, and shed his beams over the stately and venerable old palace, which, placed on a gentle eminence at the end of a long avenue of trees, formed a striking and imposing pile. Soon after passing the massive portals which form the main entrance, I found, on making inquiry, that I had arrived fully two hours before the time of opening the school for idiots. This circumstance, though causing a little loss of time, gave me, however, the opportunity of first walking through the whole establishment, and also of inquiring very narrowly into the state of several congenital idiots, who were loitering or playing in the yard adjoining the building devoted to their reception. After strolling about for some time, I stepped into one of the rooms, where several of the young inmates were separated from their fellows, owing to the prevalence of an epidemic ophthalmia which had recently broken out among them. The greater number were placed in bed, and were receiving the attention and appliances which their present condition rendered necessary. Three of them, who had recovered from the ophthalmia, were seated at a small table, partaking of excellent soup. They sat in an orderly and decorous manner, and took their food without scattering it or smearing the person-a circumstance nearly always observable in the neglected idiot. At the request of the interne, who kindly accompanied me, the youngest of the three rose from his seat, and repeated one of Lamartine's fables very distinctly, and with much spirit. During this recitation the others ceased to eat, and appeared to listen with pleasure to the display made by their young friend. Conceiving that this child manifested a precocity and irregularity rather than a deficiency of intellect, I intimated my wish that his cap should be removed, so that I could have the opportunity of examining the shape of his head. He immediately made the attempt to comply, but finding that the strings had become knotted under his chin, he showed some signs of impatience at the obstruction. One of the idiots, seeing his difficulty, rose from his seat, and rendered him the necessary assistance, by carefully untying the knot. I remarked that this youth, who thus noticed the dilemma of his companion, and then immediately relieved him, had all the characteristic appearance of a genuine idiot. I could not observe this much had been done for these poor creatures, who, born simple occurrence without becoming at once sensible that with an imperfect mental organisation, have been made capable of exercising the faculties of observation, comprehension, and a power of application, which, a few years ago, it would have been thought impossible to communi

cate to them.

After waiting a little while, the arrival of M. Valleé, the courteous and spirited instructor of the youths, was announced. I was conducted by him to a spacious room, in which were assembled about forty idiots. They were arranged along three sides of the room, and were standing still in a most orderly manner. The majority of them appeared to be about twelve or fourteen years of age; a few seemed to be not more than seven or eight; and a still smaller number had perhaps reached their twentieth year. There were no indications of impatience, no involuntary movements, gesticulations, nor any of those disagreeable moaning whining sounds known to be common among this class of persons. All seemed attentive, and ready to enter upon their exercises. I cast my eye around the room, with the view of ascertaining, from external conformation, whether the young people standing

before me were truly congenital idiots. I recognised a few who had previously attracted my attention as having all the characteristics of this class in a marked degree, and most of the others presented similar indications, such as stinted growth, small and peculiarly-shaped head, and singular form and vacant expression of countenance. Satisfied that I saw before me a number of human beings born with that species of imperfect organisation in which the understanding does not become developed, I waited with no small interest for the commencement of their exercises.

At the request of their kind master, two of the younger boys advanced from the line in which they were arranged, and stood forward towards the centre of the room. Each placed his arm over the shoulder of the other without any degree of awkwardness or unsteadiness, and they remained thus for a short time, standing in an easy and graceful posture. At the sound of excellent music, played on several instruments by three or four old men, they began to dance; first performing a slow movement, and afterwards a quicker step. During the whole dance, each rested his arm embracingly on the shoulder of the other; and it was pleasing to observe the grace and uniformity of their various movements, as well as the accurate time kept by both to the music. They ceased the instant the performers ceased to play, and then retired to the places from which they had advanced. During this time the others remained standing in the same order as at first; there were no signs of restlessness, and many even seemed to regard the dancers with attention and pleasure, whilst only a few retained that vacant expression peculiar to their class. There were, however, no moanings or gesticulations, but each stood by his neighbour, forming three lines at the end and sides of the room.

After the completion of this dance, the whole of the boys were desired to sing one of the songs which had been composed for them. It was a very simple air-such as those sung by the classes of Hullah in our own country and the words were well suited to their feeble comprehension. During this performance they were led by two assistants, who rendered important aid by singing with them, beating time, and encouraging them in a lively and spirited manner. A copy of the song was handed to me, so that I had an opportunity of noticing how far this congregation of idiots were capable of exercising the faculty of enunciation. The words were as distinctly, if not more distinctly, pronounced than we usually find to be the case with us by singers, and it was truly gratifying to follow them, line by line, through this beautiful little melody. It was sung with full force, but not over-loud; the time was well-kept; the pauses between each verse distinct; and, as far as I could judge, the tune appeared correct. In short, the whole piece was executed in a style quite equal, if not superior, to what we are in the habit of observing in the junior singing classes of Great Britain.

It may readily be conceived that the novel spectacle of so many unfortunate and hitherto-considered incapable creatures harmoniously engaged in the execution of this simple but touching piece of music, was calculated to produce a new and lasting impression; and I shall not easily forget the sensations which I experienced at the time when listening to the performance of it. Although apparently an unmoved spectator, yet that strange mixture of feeling arising from sympathy with affliction, and rejoicing at its relief, was powerfully excited within me. Every faculty of attention seemed roused into action; and I felt the full importance of devoting the little time permitted me to observe, with the strictest accuracy, the demonstration about to be made.

In a little while one of the youths, with a drum slung across his shoulders, advanced to the middle of the room, and placed himself in an attitude of readiness to take part in the next exercise. This consisted of a martial air, sung by the boys, and accompanied at intervals by beat of drum. The drummer had every characteristic of a congenital idiot in a marked degree; and although he possessed only that imperfect power over his fingers which rendered a secure hold of the drumsticks difficult,

yet he executed his part with marvellous accuracy, and evidently with no small enjoyment to himself. It was interesting to observe the pleasure he manifested during, and immediately after, the short and occasional beats which constituted his part of the performance; and it was still more interesting to reflect on the consciousness he had, by education, been made to feel, so as to be able to appreciate the singing of the others, and understand the precise instant when his part required to be executed. The next musical lesson showed that instruction in this department can be carried to a much higher degree of perfection than we could have supposed possible. The youths were arranged in three groups, each group taking a part of music different from the others, and each led by an assistant. One or two songs were surprisingly well performed, the respective sections singing different notes from the others, but all preserving the utmost harmony and exactness of execution.

A large black board, on which were chalked, in large characters, a gamut, and the notes of an air, was now brought into the room, and placed in a conspicuous situation, so that each pupil could readily stand before it. Arranged in this manner, the youths were desired first to read the several notes; this they did by pronouncing simultaneously, and with great distinctness, as the stick of the tutor was pointed to the notes, la, sol, fa, &c. After thus reading the music in the natural voice, they were requested to give to each note its musical tone. Accordingly, as the wand was pointed to each note, they sang it. This exercise began by first passing regularly up and down the gamut, and then they were led from one note to another indiscriminately, showing a power of memory, and immediate application of it, which I was little prepared to expect. They then sang the air, the notes of which were chalked on the board. This, though more pleasing to the listener, did not, however, show an amount of mental capability equal to that evinced by the sudden and unexpected transition from one note to another in the previous exercise.

During the latter performance I advanced forward amongst them, so as to be able to observe more accurately how far each youth took his portion, or whether some remained silent or not. This unfortunate step on my part disturbed their attention, and some irregularity as well as discord was the consequence, but only for a short time. Aware that my presence amongst them had unintentionally formed a cause of disturbance, I became sensible of my error, and was made conscious how slight a cause is sufficient to destroy the order and precision which has been created in these feeble and imperfect minds.

This completed the musical exercises, which were gone through in a manner that would have done credit to any juvenile class of singers enjoying the full use of all their faculties. The songs were sung with much clearness and great power. Indeed such was the force of sound produced, that whenever any of the musicians took up their violins by way of an occasional accompaniment, the instrumental music was completely drowned by that of the united voices. The general effect was remarkably good, and such as would have met the approval of any person ignorant that the performers were composed of a class of imbeciles. The effect of music, at all times grateful, was in this instance exalted in a high degree by the contemplation that it formed a powerful means of exciting faculties which otherwise might for ever have remained dormant. Its influence was manifest among this assemblage of persons, formerly supposed to be incapable of any amount of execution, still less of any capability of appreciating it. It was evident, however, that not only did each join with full spirit in the general chorus, but also that an exhilarating effect was produced throughout the whole body, well calculated to quicken the feeble and scanty germs of intellectual power bestowed on these forlorn creatures. Apart from this higher consideration, the evident delight they all manifested when engaged in singing their songs, was of itself very pleasing to witness; and I could not avoid thinking, that if it were to serve no other purpose than that of

receiving for them a price which varies with the supply; but may be quoted as averaging twopence a-pound. These shops derive much assistance from the peddling merchants who go about from door to door, dealing chiefly by barter. They exchange glass and earthenware, and in other instances combs, mock jewellery, and other small wares, for rags and refuse of all kinds, such as dripping, &c. The Quakers are the most resolute hoarders of all such matters, although they probably dispose of them in another way; and we have frequently been reproved by these benevolent economists for throwing into the fire a fragment of string or paper, with the warning that we were wantonly destroying the food of the poor.

Much might be said upon the appearance of the rags of the various countries, and many curious analogies might be traced; but, economically, the only difference is, that those from the northern ports are stronger and darker than those from the south. At one time, it was important to the paper-maker that the rags should have as little dye in them as possible; but the powers of chemistry render this no longer of consequence. With certain bleaching powders, the paper-maker will deterge the darkest tint, whether natural or artificial. The rags, therefore, which now command the highest price in the market are those of stout linen materials, of whatever hue; an old sack in this respect being preferable to the finest cambric shirt. The United Kingdom being altogether incapable of supplying the vast and increasing demand for rags of a superior kind, a large import takes place from Hamburg and other ports in northern Europe; thither bales of rags centre from all parts of the interior for exportation; so that, in point of fact, the bulk of our paper is composed of the cast-off apparel of the German peasantry-continental chemises, bodices, blouses, and other articles, transformed, under the magical hands of our paper-makers, into a fabric of surpassing strength and beauty. Great, however, as is this rag trade, it falls very far short of what is required by the exigencies of literature; and England, if permitted, would sweep to itself every rag in Europe. Like the magician in Aladdin, we go about offering our new wares for the old, filthy, wonderful lamp, which has the property, when in skilful hands, of enlightening the darkest corners of the earth! But some there be who will not listen to our charming, charm we never so wisely. Of such are the Dutch, Belgians, French, Spaniards, and Portuguese, who, in prohibiting the export of their rags, of course inflict an injury on those amongst them who would gladly exchange their disused garments for the well-told money of Old England.

Deprived of such means of recruitment, our papermakers have been driven to their wits' end to find materials for their manufacture. Assisted by the deterging processes to which we have adverted, they now gather together and use substances which were formerly either thrown away as worthless refuse, or used as manure. Thus the sweepings of cotton and flax-mills, thick as they are with grease and dirt, have become materials for paper; and this circumstance, trifling as it appears, has given that wonderful Manchester another great manufacture. Old ropes, damaged flax-anything, in short, however foul, can now be purified and bleached as white as snow; and instead of throwing the materials in a heap, as formerly, to undergo a process of decay, they are merely cleared of the dust by one machine, and then torn into millions of shreds by another, before being subjected to the chemical treatment.

Woollen rags are chiefly used as manure, especially in the cultivation of hops; but some are mixed with new wool, and rewoven into cloth. The fabric, of course, is not the stronger for this intermixture, but it looks very well; and many a man who shudders at the idea of a coat from Holywell Street or Rag Fair, arrays himself with complacency in the worn-out covering of a German peasant. The same material is also used in some sorts of thick, but not tenacious, packing-paper, in felt, and in gun-wadding, and by the poorer classes

as a substitute for feathers-if we should not rather say chaff-in their beds.

Paper made from cotton is said to have been known in Greece so early as the ninth century, although the Egyptian papyrus continued to be used, together with parchment, long after. Macpherson, in his Annals of Commerce, mentions a specimen of linen-rag paper in the year 1243, but others date the invention from the beginning of the fourteenth century. England, however, was much behind in the art. The first paper-mill was established at Dartford by a German, jeweller to Queen Elizabeth, in 1588. During the seventeenth century, England was indebted to France for the greater part of her supplies, and her first important efforts originated in Frenchmen chased from their country by the madness of Louis XIV. in 1685. The manufacture now began to improve in England; and in 1690 that of white paper, hitherto almost untried, was added. During the last century considerable progress was made; but in 1800, when we were in the very thickest of the twenty years' war, the scarcity of paper was so great, that the expedient was first resorted to of discharging the ink from what had been used, and remanufacturing it. This is effected, in the case of printed paper, by subjecting the pulp to a caustic ley of lime and potash, while the written paper is treated in the same way with oil of vitriol. Thus we see there is no end to the future of the wretched rag on which we are lecturing!

For a long period paper-mills were conducted on a meagre scale; the sheets of paper being made singly by a manual operation with a sieve. Fourdrinier's splendid invention of the paper-making machine has almost entirely superseded this ancient process, and now a single mill will turn out more paper in a week than one of the old concerns could manufacture in a year. Thanks to Fourdrinier for his skilful adaptations; for to his machinery are the public in a great measure indebted for the vast supply of cheap and popular literature they now enjoy. So expert have English and Scotch papermakers become in the use of rags, that Great Britain is no longer indebted to her neighbours for paper, unless it be for some French hangings, which she still occasionally imports at the demand of fashion.

We have described the fortunes of cotton, linen, and woollen rags, and it now only remains to say a few words touching silk. The fragments of this costly fabric, one might suppose, would be more valuable than those of commoner clothes; but the reverse is the case. Neither the peddling barterers, nor the black dolls of London, will look at your silk rags; even the gentleman who comes round with his donkey-cart, and traffics liberally with your servants for bones, bits of metal of any kind, broken glass, &c. turns away from them with contempt. He will buy your old bones by the pound or the bushel, and give you a good round price for them (perhaps as inuch as a penny a-pound), but he will not have the fragments of your once best dress even as a gift.

The unhappy position of silk rags we look upon as something very extraordinary, considering the value of the raw material on the one hand, and the progress of chemical and mechanical science on the other. We know that the Phoenician women unravelled the Chinese silks, and multiplied them into fabrics of such loose texture as gave great scope to the satirists. No attempt, however, has been made in England, so far as we know, to revive this species of industry; although we have recently heard of a French projector who has conceived the idea of dissolving the silk into its original glutinous substance, and spinning it silkworm-fashion anew. This seems feasible enough; but by unravelling existing rags, one would think that at least some coarse but compact fabric might be produced which would be found useful in articles less dependant upon elegance than a lady's gown.

We have only one word to add, and it is on the scandalous impolicy of taxing the manufacture of rags on their transformation into paper. At present, the excise

duty is three-halfpence per pound weight on the manufactured article-a rate almost equal to cent. per cent. on the cost of the raw material. It is to be trusted that the press will not long maintain its unaccountable indifference on this subject.

NATURE AT WA R.

To him who is accustomed to contemplate nature as a great scene, in which nothing but universal peace and harmony prevail, it will be a startling assertion to make, that all nature is at war. It is, however, not the less true. Throughout all animated nature, from man himself down to the meanest animalcule sporting in its ocean of a drop of water, there runs a system of reciprocative defensive and offensive warfare-the stronger against the weaker, the greater against the less. Nor are we to regard the vegetable kingdom itself, ordinarily looked upon as so passive and inoffensive, as an exception to this rule: the stronger and more luxuriant weed is more than a match for the delicately appetised flower, and it will eventually, though by a power of a negative character, succeed in expelling its gentler rival from the field. But, as a general rule, it is right to consider the vegetable world as 'more sinned against than sinning;' and we consequently find that the powers with which it has been endowed are chiefly of the defensive kind. Still let me not be misunderstood. It is not that I would intimate that a real harmony does not characterise the operations of the Divine creative intelligence; for such a harmony, as wonderful as it is great, really exists, and is, in fact, the wise and beneficial result of this very circumstance -the war of nature. From the scenes of confusion, anarchy, and mutual destruction, appearing such when separately regarded, springs that beautiful correlation of organised beings known to the natural philosopher as the equilibrium of species, or the balance of creation. It is my purpose, on the present and upon a future occasion, to enter into some consideration of the elements of this warfare, defensive and offensive. Some of those striking evidences of a foregoing design, which find their wide development in creation at large, are to be found in rich abundance in the discussion of this interesting subject, and reveal to us, at every step, a fresh demonstration of the stupendous attributes of that creative Wisdom which, while it produces a universe, can stoop to organise a humble insect, or to endow with form and functions a still more insignificant animalcule.

If, in our first excursions into a foreign country, we were to see the inhabitants going about carrying pistols in their belts, and swords in their hands, or covered with some impenetrable armour, we should make the very natural conjecture that an intestinal warfare must be going on. The weapons of offence and defence imply an enemy and a warfare in themselves. When, therefore, we discover among the inhabitants of the animal kingdom an infinity of apparatus expressly contrived for attack and defence, we are led to draw a similar conclusion. Thus, from a brief review of the defences with which the Creator has supplied his creatures, we shall collect the fact, that there is a civil war going on through all grades of the animated and organised worlds. These defences are of many kinds. Such as will admit of classification will be treated of first, and afterwards those of a miscellaneous nature. It will also be convenient to consider the defensory provisions of the vegetable world, though briefly, as distinct from those of the animal, although in their general nature they are closely assimilated.

enemy; while it is one which in some cases exhibits in a singular light the mental faculties, if the expression can be allowed, of the creatures to whom it has been given. Imitativeness is a safeguard whose utility depends upon a creature passing for what it is not, and being thus overlooked by its foes. Imitativeness is either passive or active. Either the colour, form, or aspect of the creature resembles some other natural object, or, by an effort of its own, it is able closely to imitate the object for which it wishes, so to speak, to be mistaken. Among insects we meet with many instances of passive Imitativeness: some of the spectre tribe, or Phasma, exactly resemble small branches of trees, aping them in their appearance even to the very sprays, knots, and unevennesses on their surface. Others appear like dried leaves-brown, arid, and lifeless; while others have delicate frames of lacelike texture, so closely approximating to the aspect of leaves whose parenchyma has been removed (such as we find in ponds after they have undergone a long maceration), as to render it a matter of difficulty to decide upon their real nature until the creatures are seen in motion. The Bombyx quercifolia, and some of the LeWhen these pidoptera, come under this classification. creatures are seen on trees hanging down like withered leaves, none but an entomologist would dream of their being anything else. M. Lefevre mentions an insect he met with in the desert, which was of a perfectly identical colour with the brown sand; while a little farther on, where the soil was white, the insect assumed a silvery white appearance. Insects also often resemble pebbles, stones, gravel, &c. and can hardly be distinguished from them, when resting among such objects, even by a very sharp scrutiny. Many too, such as the little green and yellowish insects which infest our flowers, especially rose-trees, are of a colour so precisely that of the green leaves or branches they are devouring, as in many cases to escape detection. When these tiny creatures change their abode, their colour generally changes to a corresponding colour. Some resemble the mosses, bark, and even the flowers of trees and shrubs upon which they are found; and so nearly, that a leaf upon which one is resting may be taken into the hand, and yet the insect remain unperceived. Some which prey upon the ova, or produce of other insects, are so nearly like their victims in appearance, as even to be permitted to enter the nest, and accomplish their predatory objects, without discovery; they are little wolves in sheep's clothing.' It is stated that bees, who have generally something to afford, are frequently subject to this species of deception.

We find also among the finny tribes the evidences of a similar provision. Those fish which swim low in the water have their backs coloured to correspond with a deep-sea hue; while those which, like the mackerel, swim near the surface, have their bellies of a lustrous white, so as to be less distinguishable, by enemies swimming beneath them, from the bright sky above. Indeed the general difference in colour of the back and belly of fish seems a provision against enemies from above and below. Those fish which live among weeds, have the colour of the weed as their prevailing tint; while those which live at the bottom, such as soles, flat-fish, &c. resemble the sand or mud. Some fish, as well as frogs, change their colour with that of the mud and weeds of the waters they inhabit.