Pallas, the Virgilian hero, was discovered in the year and by other means. We may go a step beyond, and A. D. 1041; the corpse unchanged by time, with that ask-If the 'perpetual lamps' were known to the angaping wound in the heart so affectingly described by cients, how was it that a noble Roman's shade was left to the poet; and in the sepulchre was found a lamp, which, the poor consolation of a vegetable wick and most unperhowever, could not be put out by any means whatso-petual tallow? The historians of these lamps are not ever; thus differing from the generally received charac- content with the simple assertion of their being in comteristic of the perpetual lamps.' Merlin the magician, bustion, but they insist upon the 'fact,' that they gave among other wonderful things which he accomplished, forth sufficient light thoroughly to illuminate the seappears to have succeeded in constructing one of these pulchre. This is another ground of objection. It is lights, if we are to take the author before-mentioned well known that light, in ordinary circumstances, as in as a credible authority. But we need not enumerate a lamp, is produced by the ignition of solid particles of examples. matter; the light of a lamp is due to the ignition of the carbon of its fuel. In burning, then, a certain amount of solid matter is consumed every minute. Dr Ure calculates that a mould candle consumes rather more than a hundred grains of tallow per hour. If we allow, to make a rough estimate, sixty grains of solid carbon to such a light per hour, this would demand about seventy pounds of solid carbon for one year, or about three tons for a century, for the production of the light alone of such a flame. This is, however, only an approximative statement of the case, as we are still to account for that portion of the fuel which contributes to the non-luminous part of flame. Thus a whole tallowchandler's warehouse, economised as you will, would only supply a mould candle with fuel for about a century; and it will be a novel discovery indeed to the antiquarian world, if such a receptacle be ever found in connexion with any ancient sepulchre. We have taken the fuel to be of the nature of fat or tallow, but it is evident the same line of argument applies itself to all other kinds, excepting always that liquid Lazian gold, which ignorant moderns know nothing about. There is a further difficulty, which, even if an eternal supply of fuel were granted, would render the constant flame an impossibility; that is, the nature of a wick. Granting that it might be made of asbestos, and thus rendered indestructible, it would, after the lapse of some time, become so charged with half-decomposed fuel, as to form a semi-solid mass, which had lost the power of imbibing the oil in sufficient quantity to sustain the flame. A final objection lies in the want of fresh air. With a perpetual flow of oil, and a wick, if it were possible, so made as to obviate the last objection, the lamp, without a renewal of the exhausted oxygen of the tomb, would speedily become extinct. This appears to have been the case with the lamp discovered at Barblon. Such is the presumptive, such the positive, evidence opposed to the perpetuity of the sepulchral lights. If the different accounts are to be credited, the mystery is completely beyond solution. Let us enter more closely into the subject. Camden, with a customary caution, lays the responsibility of the tale he recounts on the shoulders of several 'credible persons,' who related it to him, and contents himself with quoting Lazius for the exposition of the perpetual flame secret. The account of the lamp of Olybius is an obvious impossibility, until at least the laws which affect combustion undergo a very material alteration. The other examples may be as summarily disposed of, with the exception of the most recent alleged discovery in Spain. It is, however, much to be regretted that no archæologist was present at the time; that none but ignorant rustics, full, possibly, of superstitious terrors, beheld this famous lamp, or we might have had the question set at rest for ever. There are suspicious circumstances about the tales, as they have been handed down to us, to which we do well to give heed. It is most unfortunate, then, that the 'perpetual lamps' always go out as soon as they are discovered. One would think they might have the grace, at anyrate, to keep in, after enduring unaltered the lapse of ages, for a few days or weeks, and so give us moderns a chance of getting trustworthy testimony concerning them. But no! they are no sooner found, than they are found out; and this, to ordinary judgments, confers upon them at once a highly apocry phal character. The ingenious Bishop Wilkins explains this feature of the lamps, by presuming that the exposure to open air disturbed the balance between the flame and the fuel, and that, consequently, the flame shortly went out; but this is a lame and impotent conclusion. It may also be asked-allowing that the lamps were found really burning, and were blown out accidentally-How is it that they have never been relighted, and handed down, from age to age, visible witnesses to the truth of the statements? The question cannot be answered. There is, moreover, an air of romance Learned men, however, have perplexed themselves about every account that exists, which considerably much in the attempt to explain away the difficulty. damages its credibility as a matter of fact. On the The penetrating genius of Baptist Porta exercised whole, it may be averred that the stories at present itself in vain upon this subject: he believed in the truth received about these lamps are of a very questionable of the accounts, but failed in all his experiments to nature. There are, however, other grounds for doubt- produce anything like an eternal flame. Bishop Wilkins ing, and of a more satisfactory description. In the Ar- suggested the idea of the asbestian wick, and innocently chæologia' of the Society of Antiquaries, will be found asks, whether it was not probable that an inconsumable an account of the discovery of a Roman sepulchral lamp, oil might not be extracted from asbestos itself?-which in a 'barrow,' at Barblon in Essex. The tomb was seems a kind of lucus a non lucendo reasoning. Dr opened by an archæologist fortunately, and the lamp Plat has suggested the idea, that a natural fountain of was discovered in one corner of it, with all the appear-naphtha, or a jet of carburetted hydrogen, might be in ance of having been long extinguished. The lamp, with connexion with the lamps; but this hypothesis is open its contents, was sent to Mr Faraday, the eminent to the objections-first, of the want of renewed air; chemical philosopher. In it was contained a cake of a and secondly, of the entire absence of any mechanism substance, dry, brittle, and earthy in appearance. The attached to the lamps to justify the supposition, even upper surface of it was black, the lower green, from its if there had been any such natural supply, which has contact with the bronze of the lamp. This substance never yet been alleged in any instance with which was altogether combustible, and consisted simply of a we are acquainted. Mr Way writes-Some subfatty fuel, much changed by time. In the beak of the stance may have been compounded, which, long closed lamp was found a wick, evidently consisting of a fibrous up amidst the pestilent vapours of the tomb, may at vegetable material, about an inch in diameter, and half-length, on the admission of some measure of purer air, consumed. Near the lamp stood what has been believed to be a curule chair-indicative of the official authority, or of the noble rank, of the tomb-tenant. Here, now, were all the elements of a splendid fable, excepting the simple circumstance of the lamp being out, which, there is little doubt, would have been overleaped, had the discovery taken place at another epoch, have become ignited for a brief space of time, and as quickly have been extinguished, when, on being brought forth from the vault, an accelerated combustion had been produced.' Now, it is well known to chemists that some substances may be so prepared as to take fire on the admission of air to them, as in the numerous chemical playthings known as pyrophori; but these must be rigidly excluded from the air, in hermeticallysealed glass tubes, or they become slowly oxidated, and are useless; therefore the objection to Mr Way's hypothesis is insuperable, as no substance could be exposed even to the impure air of the tomb without undergoing, in the course of ages, a slow oxidation, and thus becoming incombustible. It is remarkable that the same idea suggested itself to the mind of Porta, who was well acquainted with the tartrate of lead pyrophorus; but he candidly admits that it will not solve the difficulty. The solution we would venture to offer (supposing that light is actually seen on breaking into any crypt or sepulchre) is the following, though it cannot be much pressed:-The gas phosphuretted hydrogen is the product, in certain circumstances, of the decay of animal substances, and instantly shines with a phosphorescent light on coming in contact with air. Is it not probable that the decaying remains* deposited in the grave may have, in the course of years, been slowly evolving small quantities of this gas? Let the tomb be supposed to contain some of this gas, and an extinct sepulchral lamp: some labourers break into it, the air falls upon the luminiferous gas, and the vault is filled with light, which the ignorant intruders refer to the lamp it enables them to distinguish; they seize upon the lamp, and presently the light disappears, the whole of the phosphuretted hydrogen has been consumed, and the vault is in darkness. The idea is perhaps worth entertaining, and appears to afford a simple and not improbable explanation of a long-lived archæological chimera. OUR CORRESPONDENTS. OUR late article on this subject has brought us a number of communications, some of them odd enough. A person in humble life, writing from a village in the north of England, asks what book we would recommend him to employ to teach his mother to read. She is, he says, upwards of fifty years of age, and is desirous of being instructed in the art of reading, which will be a great comfort to her, and an act of gratitude from me.' We have suggested a Primer, and hope that this dutiful son will enjoy the satisfaction of seeing his parent able to read her Bible and Chambers's Edinburgh Journal' before she quits this mortal sphere. A correspondent sends us a scrap from a Birmingham newspaper, containing an impression of a woodcut, representing one of the labours of Hercules-the seizure of the stag. This cut purports to be a drawing of a testimonial in silver, presented to Mr Lines, drawingmaster, by his pupils. The engraving, which is in outline, with a little shading, is stated to have been drawn and executed by Master James Grove, with no other knowledge of the art of woodcutting than what he derived from a halfpenny Tract in Chambers's Miscellany. We congratulate the young artist on his taste and perseverance. All things considered, his execution is remarkably good: we have seen worse cuts from practised and taught hands. His success shows what can be done by self-reliance, and an earnest desire to overcome difficulties. We are glad that the directions given in the above-mentioned Tract have been of some little practical utility. Speaking on this subject, we are reminded of a communication received a few days ago from a gentleman in Gloucestershire, who deprecates our bringing the 'Miscellany' to a conclusion, as announced, at the twentieth volume. A few passages from his letter may be extracted. I have for some time circulated your Tracts among at least a hundred families in West Glo'stershire, who peruse them with intense interest. I also give them as rewards at the church Sunday school, or for writing out of school hours in winter evenings. You should see how the poor ignorant lads will work to get them, and how they read them aloud at the cottage firesides to father, mother, and the family circle, who, when young, had not the advantage of learning to read like them. Several clergymen of the church of England, and some of the religious denominations, find them equally useful for distribution. We all agree that "ignorance is the parent of vice," and are pleased with the means you adopt to conquer that evil.' It is gratifying for us to know that our Miscellany of Useful and Entertaining Tracts' finds its way at least in one quarter of the country into the hands of the class for whom it is specially designed. We regret that, consistently with other duties, it will not be in our power to extend the Tracts beyond twenty volumes; but within that compass, we hope, will be found as ample a variety of instructing and amusing matter as could reasonably be wished. A unique little library will have been furnished, fitted alike by its character and price to seek for a welcome at every fireside. The above correspondent, who seems to be an enthusiast in popular instruction, concludes by mentioning that he prints short pithy addresses on pieces of paper, to distribute in cottages and elsewhere; and the reading of which, he says, has a good effect.' He encloses one of these addresses, printed in small quarto, within an ornamental border. It is headed 'FRESH AIR,' and is as follows: "The celebrated Dr Darwin was so impressed with a conviction of the necessity of good air, that, being very popular in the town of Derby, once on a market-day he mounted a tub, and addressed the listening crowd. "Ye men of Derby, fellow-citizens, attend to me! I know you to be ingenious and industrious mechanics. By your exertions, you procure for yourselves and families the necessaries of life; but if you lose your health, that power of being of use to them must cease. This truth all of you know; but I fear some of you do not understand how health is to be maintained in vigour-this, then, depends upon your breathing an uncontaminated air; for the purity of the air becomes destroyed where many are collected together the effluvium from the body corrupts it. Keep open, then, the windows of your workshops, and as soon as you rise, open all the windows of your bedrooms. Inattention to this advice, be assured, will bring diseases on yourselves, and engender among you typhus fever, which is only another name for putrid fever, which will carry off your wives and children. Let me again repeat my serious adviceopen your windows to let in the fresh air. Remember what I say; I speak now without a fee, and can have no other interest but your good in this my advice."' Next comes a letter from our old acquaintance Grant Thorburn, the original of Galt's Lawrie Todd, who still survives in New York. Grant is an oddity. Fifty-two years ago, while a young man, he left Scotland to seek his fortune in America, and we believe he has not sought it in vain. Pondering on things long gone by, this little old man bethinks him of a usage which he supposes might be advantageously introduced into Scotland from America, and we are to be the channel of its introduction. It is this. In America, it is customary to shake one or two bundles of loose straw into a grave over the newly-lowered coffin, in order to prevent the rattle of stones and earth upon the lid, which is always ungrateful to the feelings. Grant is rather late in telling us of this custom, but his communication is not the less welcome. In Edinburgh (and probably elsewhere in Scotland) it has for several years been the practice for the sexton to throw a quantity of straw into the grave before shovelling in earth: perhaps our notice of the fact, however, may carry the usage into quarters where it has not hitherto been known. A letter from a bookseller in a town in the west of Scotland, informs us that he has for some time attempted to employ men in poor circumstances to go about selling cheap publications on the plan recommended by us, but that nearly all his efforts have been unsuccessful. The men,' he says, 'would do well, and make money, if they could keep from drinking whisky. I have often set them up in trade, and they have almost invariably shown me ingratitude for my kindness, by perishing the pack through dissipation.' How frequently does this appetite for drink frustrate every means that can be adopted for improving the condition of the humbler classes! We thank our correspondent for his obliging communication. Our article, A Word on Land,' has not pleased the parties who are concerned in leading the working-classes into a notion that the acquisition of an acre or two of land is to render them permanently comfortable and independent. We should have been very glad to see, by statements and calculations, that the project we discommended is really to turn out favourably; but unfortunately no attempt is made to prove anything of the sort. Our observations are met only by personal abuse, and we are denounced as 'aristocrats' rather an amusing accusation, considering what we have been about during the last fifteen years. Not, however, even to gain the applause of the parties who now address us, will we stoop to flatter prejudices, or desist from exposing what we consider fallacies in social economy. A section of the working-classes may cease to look on us as friends; but we shall not the less act a friendly part towards them. We therefore, at whatever risk of offending, repeat our warnings respecting community land-buying projects and patch-farming, as means for regenerating the operative classes of the United Kingdom. And this, surely, we can do without in anyway approving of the present system of land tenures, or of the conduct of landed proprietors generally. We think, on the contrary, that on both these points there is a vast deal to condemn and improve, as we hope at a suitable opportunity to show. A late article on Quack Medicine Advertisements appears, from various communications, to have given so much satisfaction, that we should infer the existence of a wide-spread sympathy on the subject. The growing detestation of such advertisements will surely shame the newspapers into dismissing them from their pages. A dealer in -'s Pills writes to say that, from conscientious convictions, he is disposed to relinquish their sale; and we hope all respectable tradesmen will follow his example. No honest man, on consideration, can lend himself to the deceptions of the quack medicine manufacturer. That nearly half a million sterling should be spent in the United Kingdom annually on quack nostrums, which are either for the most part useless, or injurious to health, shows the extraordinary amount of ignorance and credulity that still requires to be removed. Though not so numerous as formerly, questions as to fields of emigration continue to be put to us. Latterly, we have had great difficulty in offering any advice on this subject. At one time we felt warmly disposed towards different colonial possessions, but now shrink from the responsibility of recommending any one to go thither. This is not the place to speak of the strange method of managing the colonies, few of which, we regret to say, are without some kind of grievance to vex their inhabitants or retard their prosperity. In place of forming vast and suitable fields for the reception of an avowedly overplus home population, they seem, for the greater part, to be only engines of expense to the parent state. Possibly a more rational and beneficent policy may still make them a desirable resort for emigrants. But our feeling in the meanwhile is to counsel no one to peril his fortune within them. We would rather incline to recommend the United States of America as the most favourable, all things considered, for the purposes of the emigrant. For agriculturists with capital, the valley of the Mississippi offers scope the most boundless and profitable. Formerly, produce was disposed of with difficulty for want of demand; but now that a market is open in the British islands, agriculture in America will rise to importance and dignity, and the quantity of land which will be torn from the wilderness, and thrown into crop, will be immense. Now, then, is the time for those who wish to take a hand in this great transatlantic movement. That Western Canada will participate in the advantages of this new trade, there can be little doubt; but the stoppage of traffic between the interior and the sea-coast for several months in the year is a serious drawback. A railway is talked of to make Canada independent of the St Lawrence, and were this effected, the colonial farmers would have cause for rejoicing. In Canada, however, they talk a long time before doing anything; and, like the Irish, they are too much in the habit of looking to government to assist in projects which they should execute by their own industry. The outlet from the whole valley of the Mississippi, including the valleys of the Ohio and Missouri, is open all the year by way of New Orleans. THE BROKEN CHESS-PAWN. MANY years ago, I formed one of a happy family circle seated round the tea-table. A letter had that day arrived, which, with the observation and quick instinct of a child, I guessed in some way concerned myself. 'It will be a pleasant change for her,' said my father, glancing at me. These were words enough to quicken my curiosity, had it not been all alive before; and I was busy picturing to my mind what this pleasant change might be, when my mother set the matter at rest by saying, Alice, your Aunt Walton has invited you to spend a month with her, and we think of allowing you to go. A month in the country, and in June! What young heart, that has been nurtured in a town, does not thrill at the mention of it? I could scarcely restrain my delight, and ran about the house telling every one of my anticipated visit. My Aunt Walton was a widow lady, living in a fine old country-house at some distance. She was a great favourite with all her nephews and nieces, being herself extremely fond of children, and I had always heard her spoken of as one of the kindest, gentlest creatures on earth. It was a fine sunny morning when I was put on the stage-coach that was to take me to a small town not far from my aunt's residence. Having never been able to travel in a close conveyance, I was given in charge of the coachman, and had a seat on the outside. People may say what they will of the superiority of railway travelling to the old coach system, but say, ye lovers of speed and steam, when flying along through narrow ravines, or gloomy tunnels, or even when a distant and fleeting glimpse of the country is obtained, what know you of the delights of travelling? No loud bell or shrill scream ushers the stage-traveller on his journey, but the winding horn of the guard, and the loud crack of the coachman's whip. Once out of the town, and how beautiful the scene! It is early morning, the sun is drinking up the dews of night, and the sweet perfume of flowers is wafted on the breeze. The lark is singing his matin song, now ascending higher and higher, then falling like an arrow to the ground. The cattle are quietly grazing in the fields, and the haymakers are just commencing the labours of the day. Many a mile has sped pleasantly away, when, hark! the horn sounds. We are approaching a village, where fresh horses are standing waiting our arrival. The business of the day is now begun; all seems life and activity; yet the girls, with their brooms sweeping the cottage floors, rest a while to gaze on the coach as it passes by. At a little distance rises the village church, and there the quiet little parsonage lies basking in the sunshine. The horses are changed, and we start again, merry-looking urchins waving their caps in the air, or maybe hanging on behind, till the whip of the coachman drives them scampering back. And then the vehicles and travellers met on the road: now a sturdy wagoner with his lumbering team; then a troop of gipsies stretched idly on the grass, the youngest of them starting up, and running for some distance by the coach window; now an old woman, with scarlet cloak and large basket on her arm, trudging to the village for sundry necessaries; then a group of merry faces in a gaily-decked wagon, setting off on a pic-nic excursion. These, and many more, were the sights which met my view on the way to my Aunt Walton's residence, and I have never forgotten them. Ah! but the reader may say, stage-travelling in the winter! Give us a picture of the unhappy outside passenger, half-frozen to his seat, vainly endeavouring to keep out the cold blasts, with rain or hail pelting him in the face, or perhaps a heavy fall of snow, and the coach at last brought to a standstill. Gentle reader, having never been in such an unfortunate situation, I cannot describe it; I will only say, I think I have heard very similar complaints from certain third-class travellers. I belong to a generation that is fast dying away; the world is changed now from what it used to be; people cannot stay quietly at home; they must be going here, there, and everywhere. Well, if they like it, I would be the last person to prevent them, only it was not so when I was young. I know a dear girl, to whom I sometimes talk in this strain; and she laughs, and says those barbarous times are gone by; and that railways make people more sociable by bringing friends oftener together; and make nations too more sociable, so that we shall soon have no more wars, and The pen shall supersede the sword, And right, not might, shall be the lord ;' and I don't know what happy things she does not prophesy. She says she belongs to the new generation; and I think she does, for I never heard people talk so: but I daresay she is right, for she reads a great deal more than I do, and I know so little of what is going on in the world now. But this is wandering from my story. All journeys end, and mine did at last. I reached my aunt's residence, and a fine old place it was, with its terraced garden and massy stone porch. And then the rooms! I had never seen such rooms, so large and lofty, with polished oak panels, round and finelycarved ceilings. And the paintings! Family portraits looking as antique in their curious costumes as the house itself. My aunt received me very kindly, and I soon began to feel quite at home; and often, as she was sitting with her knitting, would I take my place at her feet, and read aloud from the large family Bible, which always lay on a table near her. At times, laying aside her work, and pointing to the portraits on the walls, she would tell me the history of many who had lived in that house before her; and so much did these stories fill my childish mind, that often, when wandering through the long galleries and rooms that were seldom entered, I have almost expected to meet some of those fair beings whom the portraits, and my aunt's vivid descriptions, had for ever impressed on my memory. One day I was standing behind my aunt's chair, when I took hold of a black ribbon she wore round her neck, and which seemed to be attached to something hidden in her bosom. I had often looked at it with curiosity, and now asked her what was at the end of the ribbon. She smiled, and said, 'You would never guess;' and then added, sit down, my child, and I will tell you. You are fond of stories, and this is a true one. When I was young, I was very proud and passionate.' 'You, aunt!' I interrupted her in astonishment. Passionate that kind, serene, old lady whom I had never seen even ruffled! 'Yes,' she continued; 'you would not have doubted had you known me then. Many an anxious hour did I Occasion my parents, and many a time did they talk to me of the sin and folly of giving way to temper; but it was in vain. I thought that passion and resentment were an evidence of spirit, and of all things, I hated a tame-spirited person. Books were not so common then as they are now, and we had little to employ our time with but embroidery. I was therefore delighted when a kind friend from London taught me the game of chess, and gave me a box of men; and many a long evening passed pleasantly away whilst I was engaged with my brother in our newly-acquired game; the only drawback to our pleasure being, that my father, for some reason, never liked to see us engaged in it. One day (it seems but yesterday), I had seriously offended him by allowing something to be destroyed which he greatly prized. My father was a man of even temper, and I never remembered having seen him in a passion; but now he was roused, and saying, "If you care not for what I value, neither will I for what you do," he caught up my chess-box, which lay on the table, and dashed it on the floor. I looked at him in amazement: I thought not of the chess-men, but of him and of myself. I saw how he had degraded himself before me; it was a passionate act, but it was also a mean one. That single action taught me more than all the reproof I had ever received, for I learned that passion was mean and humiliating; and if thus my father appeared before me, so must I also appear before others. The chess-box still lay upon the floor-the cover had not fallen out, and apparently no mischief had been done. Quietly rising from my seat, I picked up the box, and left the room to examine its contents. The men were all safe, save one, a pawn. I looked at this broken pawn, and made a resolution, that as long as I lived I would preserve it-it had taught me a lesson which I hoped never to forget.' Here my aunt drew the ribbon from her bosom, and I saw attached to it a broken pawn. 'And is that the very same?' I asked with surprise. 'It is,' said my aunt. 'I have worn it ever since; and whenever tempted to give way to passion, this little piece of ivory has exercised over me an almost magical power. Heaven blessed my endeavours, and though the struggle was often severe, in the end I was the conqueror.' Then taking my hand in hers, she added in her softest, kindest tone, Whenever, dear Alice, you feel inclined to give way to passion, think of my story, and of the Broken Chess-pawn.' GOVERNMENT APPOINTMENT HUNTING. A FEW weeks ago we presented the contribution of an Irish gentleman, ridiculing the too common practice among his countrymen of waiting for a commission, instead of betaking themselves earnestly to some line of private enterprise. The practice, however, of waiting for appointments of a similar kind, and also for civil offices under government, is, we lament to say, far from uncommon in Great Britain. On this subject the Manchester Examiner' made lately some suitable remarks, which we take leave to lay before our readers. vail in this country, as well as in many others, there is one Amongst the various "popular delusions" which prewhich has been little dwelt upon by public writers, but which is, nevertheless, well-deserving of exposure- -we allude to the belief which has long been entertained, that there is at the disposal of the executive government an inexhaustible fund of patronage in the shape of government appointments. The Post-office, the Customs, and the Excise, are the grand avenues through which men hope to find the way to a permanent settlement, and to comforttunity of seeing a list of the letters of application which We should like to have the opporable quarters for life. are received in a year, or in a single month, by some of the members of parliament now sitting on the ministerial side of the House, from such of their constituents and others as are anxious to devote themselves to the service of their country. At this moment, we doubt not, there are in the United Kingdom some thousands of individuals who are indulging the fond expectation of becoming servants of the state, and who are spending months, or even years, in the pursuit of this the darling object of their ambition and their hopes. They fix upon some member of parliament who is supposed to be on good terms with the ministry of the day, and most commonly on the representative of the borough or county in which they reside, and for whom they have given, or expect to give, a vote, and through his intercession they entertain sanguine hopes of success. They write their unfortunate member a pressing request that he will interest himself on their behalf, and express their confidence in his kindly feeling towards them, and in his power to further their views. They wait his answer with great anxiety; and when it comes, with an indefinite expression of good-will and of willingness to serve them, they are buoyed up with the hope that he is doing all he can to assist them. The most importunate are not content with writing, but actually make a journey to town to press the matter more strongly upon him; and at his lodgings, or his club, or in the lobby of the House, they besiege him with solicitations for his interest with the ministry he supports. In addition to these efforts, they get up memorials signed by influential electors and others, testifying to the merits and capacity of the applicants, and hope by these means to force the gates which lead to the "fools' paradise" of a government appointment. 'We need not dwell on the miseries of waiting for that which, however ardently hoped for, is almost, and, in most cases, absolutely impossible to be attained. That men have written, memorialised, and implored for months and years, and have at the last been grievously disappointed, is known to everybody at all acquainted with the interior of government offices, or with the routine life of an unfortunate member of the legislature. That men should still go on seeking to dig for gold, where, in ninety-nine cases out of every hundred, no gold is to be found, is only another instance, added to multitudes besides, where people resign themselves to the delusive expectations of success in a lottery, and neglect the solid prizes which offer themselves in so many other directions. To show how desperate is the chance of success in the lottery of government appointments, we need only state a fact which is within our own knowledge, that at this moment there is a list of applications for places in the Post-office alone, which contains upwards of two thousand names, and that a list of names, selected from these, numbers some seven or eight hundred strong! But even this formidable array is not equal to the applications which are received at the treasury. We have no means of knowing accurately the exact number of names in the books in that department, but we do know that they amount to several thousands, and that, in connexion with one class of appointments altogether very limited in number, the letters of solicitation received within the last six months would fill a large hamper. 'There are several points to be observed with respect to these applications. They come generally from men who seek an easier way to comfort than is afforded in the ordinary channels of industry, and very often from those who have failed to succeed in other and more independent pursuits. They hold out the prospect of a permanent, and, it is generally supposed, of an easy mode of obtaining a living. We pronounce the whole system of "appointment hunting" to be a great "popular delusion," causing much mischief to those who are imposed upon by it, creating corruption among constituencies, and involving an incredible amount of labour and annoyance to the members of the legislature. From long observation, we have come to the conclusion that ninety-nine out of every hundred who apply are doomed to disappointment, and that of the few who succeed, the majority might have been more wealthy, and much more independent, if they had devoted their time and energies to some of the many branches of trade or professions by which the millions of our population secure a competent and honourable subsistence." THE GOOSEBERRY. In Spain and Italy the gooseberry is scarcely known; in France it is neglected, and little esteemed; in some parts of Germany and Holland the moderate temperature and humidity of climate seem to suit the fruit; but in no country is its size and beauty to be compared with that produced in Lancashire, or from the Lancashire varieties cultivated with care in the more temperate and humid districts of Britain. Dr Neill observes, that when foreigners witness our Lancashire gooseberries, they are ready to consider them as forming quite a different kind of fruit. Happily, this wholesome and useful berry is to be found in almost every cottage garden in Britain; and it ought to be considered a part of every gardener's duty to encourage the introduction of its most useful varieties in these humble enclosures. In Lancashire, and some parts of the adjoining counties, almost every cottager who has a garden cultivates the gooseberry with a view to prizes given at what are called Gooseberry Prize Meetings,' of which an ac count is annually published, with the names and weight of the successful sorts, in the Manchester Gooseberry Book.' The prizes vary from ten shillings to L.5 or L.10— the second, third, even to the sixth and tenth degrees of merit, receiving often proportionate rewards. There are meetings held in spring to make up,' as the term is, the sorts, the persons, and the conditions of exhibition; and in August to weigh and taste the fruit, and determine the prizes. The perfection the Lancashire berries have attained owes nothing to men of scientific knowledge, being cultivated scarcely by any but the lowest and most illiterate members of society; but these, by continual experience and perseverance in growing and raising new sorts, have brought the fruit from weighing ten to upwards of thirty pennyweights, and that, too, under the greatest disadvantages, not having the privilege of soil, manure, situation, &c. like the gardens of their more wealthy neighbours, but oftentimes limited to a few yards of land, either shaded by trees, confined by buildings, or exposed to the most unfavourable winds, and so barren, that they have frequently to carry on their shoulders a considerable way the soil in which the plants are to be set.-Gardeners' Monthly Volume. SLANDER. It is almost as criminal to hear a worthy man traduced without attempting his justification as to be the author of the calumny against him; it is, in fact, a sort of misprision of treason against society.-Junius. THE THREE STAGES. BY S. W. PARTRIDGE. It was a happy group. The honest pair, It was a merry group. Twice twenty years Ilis young and blushing bride! The gossips round, It was a mournful group. The sun shone out, Of dry-eyed mourners, full of bursting thoughts Of heirs and next of kin. One, one there was, Published by W. & R. CHAMBERS, High Street, Edinburgh. Also sold by D. CHAMBERS, 98 Miller Street, Glasgow; W. S. ORɛ, 147 Strand, and Amen Corner, London; and J. M'GLASHAN, 21 D'Olier Street, Dublin.-Printed by W. and R. CHAMBERS, Edinburgh. |