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that he was fully more ashamed of the deterioration that had occurred in his person than in his circumstances. He was evidently greatly distressed by the unaccustomed lankness and attenuation which he felt conscious his altered form exhibited; and I really did imagine that I had detected him, on more than one occasion, endeavouring, by bending himself backwards, to force an appearance of that projecting rotundity in front, which had once been his pride and his glory, but which had long since deserted him; endeavour. ing, in fact, to put on the semblance of those honours of which he could no longer boast the reality. Whether this was so or not, I know, that, after his fall, he greatly disliked being gazed at.

the sheriffs of which, accompanied by a great number
of gentlemen, were ready to give him welcome. In
the course of this day's journey, he visited an aged
soldier called Sir William Reid, who, though blind
with age, declared himself so cheered by the gracious
presence of his sovereign, as to feel all the warmth
of youth revived in his blood. From the residence of
this veteran, to Widdrington Castle, where he was to
lodge for the night, the distance was thirty-seven
north-country miles; yet he rode over that ground in
the incredibly short space of four hours. At Wid-
drington, he was entertained by Sir Robert Carey,
owner of the mansion, who, as might be expected,
proved a most complaisant host. While viewing the
park that afternoon, James happened to espy some
deer straying at a little distance; and notwithstanding
the fatigues of his journey, he could not resist the pas.
sion excited by the sight, but began a-hunting, from
which he did not desist till two of the animals were
slain.

zens.

The other of the two persons of whom I speak, had been a great gourmand in his day, and this circumstance rendered his case a particularly piteous one; for few things, I think it will be allowed, can be more affecting than a starving epicure-than to see a poor fellow who has been accustomed to good living, compelled, all of a sudden, to put up with the coarsest and Arriving at Newcastle next day, he spent that which most sorry fare, and that in scanty measure too. It followed (Sunday) in devotion, and on Monday reis from taking this view of the case, that I, for one, leased all the prisoners from the jails, except those always feel exceedingly for a cook or waiter out of who were confined for "treason, murder, or papistrie," place, or a decayed butcher or innkeeper. The con. giving great sums out of his own purse for the release trast of circumstances in such cases is painfully strik- of the debtors. He remained in Newcastle till Weding. This was peculiarly observable in poor Law-nesday morning, his whole expenses borne by the citi rence, the second of the once jolly personages I allude to. In his high and palmy days he had pursued the profession of a commercial traveller, and was well known on "the road" for a period of twenty years. No one knew the "good houses" better than he; no one ever sat at the top of the table with such an easy grace, or carved a joint with such an air of gratification. Alas, that such a pleasing talent should have as. sumed the character of a failing! Yet such was the case. On one occasion he was tempted to wait at Greenock for six weeks after he had transacted his business, for the arrival of a supply of turtle by the West India fleet. This was passed over by "the firm," but a hint was administered as to future delays of a similar nature. The failing was, however, too obdurate to give way before a hint. While subsequently on his western journey, he waited at a certain inn until he had eaten up a whole litter of pigs, whose uncommon plumpness, and singularly tempting appearance, had attracted his notice as he was about to mount his horse to depart. On seeing them, his raised foot dropped instinctively from the stirrup, his horse was sent back to the stable, and re-entering the inn, he ordered one of the seductive-looking animals for dinner. Its excellence equalled his expectations, and he remained, as already said, until he had consumed the whole, at the moderate rate of a pig per diem. This unfortunate false step led to his immediate discharge, for "the partners" were most unluckily lean men, and did not possess a particle of sympathy for a friend on the score of gourmanderie. Henceforth he lived on little else than his recollections, which being by no means nutritious to the body, however much they might be a solace to the mind, he underwent a gradual kryning in the person, and survived for a number of years, a sad memento of the danger which fat men are under in giving way to their

tastes.

JOURNEY OF JAMES THE FIRST FROM
EDINBURGH TO LONDON.

On the death of Queen Elizabeth, in the morning of
Thursday the 24th of March 1603, intelligence of the
event was conveyed to her successor, James VI. of
Scotland, by Sir Robert Carey, who, setting off from
London at ten o'clock of the day just mentioned, on
herseback, and spending the night of Friday at his
own house near Morpeth, reached Edinburgh at about
ten o'clock of Saturday night, being nearly as rapid a
journey as that now performed between the two cities
by the mail coaches. The Scottish monarch, to whom
this was an accession from one of the poorest to one of
the greatest of kingdoms, took a formal leave of his

native subjects a week after, in St Giles's church, and on Tuesday the 5th of April, commenced his journey towards England, leaving his wife and children to follow at leisure. He was accompanied by a few favourite Scottish nobles and churchmen, and by the French ambassador, whose wife, being sickly, accompanied the cavalcade in a slung chair, carried by eight porters, four to relieve the others alternately. He spent the first night at Dunglass Castle, the seat of his counsellor Lord Hume, and next day reached Berwick, the fortifications of which, being something quite new to him, gave him some surprise. Here he was entertained with a sermon by the celebrated Toby Matthew, Bishop of Durham, whose humour was of a kind very much akin to his own; and here also, to testify the respect in which he held the military art, he shot off a cannon with his own hand, "so faire," says the flattering narrator of his progress, "and with such signe of experience, that the most expert gunners there

beheld it not without admiration."

On Friday the 8th of April, James crossed the Tweed and entered the county of Northumberland,

His journey on Wednesday, April 13, was from
Newcastle to Durham, including a digression which
he made to Lumley Castle, the seat of Lord Lumley,
which splendid place he viewed with much admira-
tion. At Durham he was entertained in the Episco-
pal palace, by the bishop; and as this prelate was
almost as eminent a sayer of good things as James
himself, the royal conversation during the evening is
said to have been uncommonly brilliant. On Thurs-
day, April 14, his majesty advanced to Walworth,
the seat of Mrs Genison, widow of a gentleman who
had been in the service of Queen Elizabeth; by whom
he was "bountifully entertained to his very high con-
tentment." In the course of this day's journey, he set
himself down on the high grounds above Haughton-
le-side, to enjoy the beatific vision which was there
opened to him-the fairest portion of Yorkshire, in
its turn the fairest portion of England-the gallant
Tees, with all its woodlands, pastures, feedings, and
farmholds, stretched out in quiet beauty, and, as it
were, inviting him to come on and take possession: a
scene presenting such a contrast to the sterile soil
which he had left behind in the north, as must have
almost bewildered his senses, or disposed him, at least
(says Mr Surtees, in his History of the County Pala-
tine of Durham) had he been a man of common cha-
racter-to exclaim, in the words which a poet has since
fancied for a similar occasion-

"Where's the coward that would not dare
To fight for such a land?"

but he declined it, saying, in a kind manner, that as
the people were desirous to see a king, he was anxious
to gratify them, and he should therefore walk, so as
to exhibit his person as well as his face. This con-
descension gave very general satisfaction.
He re-
turned in the same manner. This day, after dinner,
he conferred a great number of knighthoods in the
garden connected with the house in which he lived,
which was the palace of Lord Burleigh. The only
unhappy incident of the day was the apprehension of
a Catholic seminary priest, who, under the disguise
of a lay gentleman, had delivered to his majesty a
petition in favour of the Catholics. This criminal,
for such he was held by the prejudices and the laws
of that time, was committed to jail. James here, as
at Newcastle, opened all the jails, except to traitors,
murderers, and papists; an association of names which
the historians of the day present without the least
comment, however much it may surprise the ears of
the present generation.

James was entertained at York in a style of liberality and magnificence worthy of that ancient city, once the capital of England. Lord Burleigh kept open house for all comers during the time he continued in the palace, which was two complete days; and on Monday, the mayor entertained him at a sumptuous feast, which excited the wonder of all his Scottish attendants. Perhaps it was here that James made a droll remark, which has been recorded by tradition in Scotland. Some English courtier was so ill-bred as to observe, that very few mayors in Scotland could have given entertainment to so many persons as were here assembled; to which the king instantly replied, "Fy, man, there's a provost in Scotland that keeps an open house a' the year round, and aye the mae [the more] that come the welcomer." He alluded to the chief magistrate of a certain Scotch burgh (supposed to be Forfar) who kept an alehouse.

After this grand civic entertainment, his majesty left York, and rode to Grimstone, the seat of Sir Ed. ward Stanhope, where he lodged for the night. Next day, Tuesday April 19, after dining with Sir Edward, who was high sheriff of the county, he rode towards Doncaster, stepping aside by the way to see Pontefract castle. At Doncaster he lodged in an inn which bore the sign of the Sun and Bear, the host of which he repaid next day for his entertainment, by "the lease of manor-house in reversion, of good value."

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On the 20th, being Wednesday, he proceeded to wards Worksop, the seat of the Earl of Shrewsbury, where he intended to lodge for the night. At Bautry, where he crossed the limit of Yorkshire, and entered the county of Nottingham, he was left by the sheriff of the former district and met by the sheriff of the latter, who was "most gallantly appointed both with horse and man." A little farther on, within a mile of Blyth Hall, he alighted from his horse, and, sitting down upon a bank by the way-side, partook of a slight In all probability, as James sat with his legs crossed, refreshment. As he approached Worksop, he was on this delightful spot for such was his attitude, the saluted from the park by a vision of huntsmen, the place from that circumstance being still called Cross-chief of whom pronounced a congratulatory speech, Legs-he only congratulated himself on having been and offered to show him some game; a pleasant and born with the sacred and indefeasible right to inherit well-devised conceit on the part of the Earl of Shrewsand possess so much good land. bury, than which scarcely any thing could have been more agreeable to his royal guest. The king at once consenting to the terms of the speech, a hunt was commenced in the park, wherewith his majesty, says the narrator of the progress, was 66 very much delighted." His entertainment at Worksop was of a kind and extent still more astonishing than what he had experienced at any other place: "besides the abundance of all provision and delicacie, there was here a most excellent soule-ravishing musique, where with his highnesse was not a little delighted." He quitted the earl's hospitable mansion next morning after breakfast; the relics of the viands, which were that would, to come and take." At Worksop, before in themselves immense, being "left open for any man his departure, he conferred the honour of knighthood upon nineteen individuals.

He advanced next day from the hospitable seat of Mrs Genison, to the house of a Mr Ingleby, near Topcliffe, being attended by the high sheriff of Yorkshire, who, with a gallant train, had met him by the way. From Topcliffe he proceeded on Saturday to York, the sheriffs of which met him at the extremity of the liberties, three miles from the city, where they presented him with their white staves. Within a mile of York, he was saluted by Lord Burleigh (elder brother to his faithful friend and minister Cecil), who was President of the Council in the north of England, and by far the most important officer who had yet his retinue, by the sheriffs of the city and county, and given him welcome. Attended by this nobleman and by his own proper train, which was by this time swelled to an enormous amount, he advanced towards the gate, where he was received by the mayor, alder. men, and principal citizens, the first of whom delivered to him the double compliment of a congratulatory speech and a cup full of gold. There was here a slight dispute betwixt the mayor and Lord Burleigh, as to which should bear the sword before his majesty in his progress through the city. To decide the question in a way which should give no offence to either party, James facetiously asked if they would permit him, in this case, to have the disposal of his own property; and both answering that they should be happy to abide by his decision, he committed the object in dispute to the Earl of Cumberland, the most distinguished soldier present (called by Queen Elizabeth her Champion), who forthwith carried it before him into the city.

It was here that James might be said to have for the first time taken upon him the state and office of the king of England; for on his arrival at York, he found the Secretary Cecil, and others of his privy council, with whom he proceeded to hold conference on matters relating to government, and who began to form something like a court around him. The day after his arrival at York being a Sunday, he went to attend public worship in that glorious minster, which, it is easy to conceive, must have been, with all its garrison of churchmen and attendants, fully as great a wonder to his royal mind as either the fortifications of Berwick or the scenery of Teesdale. As he left his lodging to go to church, he was offered a coach;

This day, Thursday the 21st of April, he advanced to the town of Newark-upon-Trent, where, taking up his quarters in the castle, which was the property of the crown, he might be said, for the first time since his entry into England, to have lodged in a house of his own, or at his own expense. The corporation of Newark met the king as he entered the town, and, by the mouth of the alderman, their chief magistrate, expressed their affection towards him, presenting him, at the same time, with "a faire gilt cup." The speech was in Latin, and it was expressed in a way so agree. able to the royal taste, that, when he was about to quit the town next day, he desired to hear it repeated. On this request being complied with, he asked the Being told that good alderman what was his name. it was Twentyman, he said, somewhat sharply, "Then, by my saule, man, thou art a traitor; the Twentymans pulled down Redkirk in Scotland!" He was, upon the whole, so well pleased with this orator, that he conferred upon him the office of purveyor of wax for the king's household in the counties of Notting

ham, York, Lincoln, and Derby, and ever after had him in attendance when he came to hunt in Sherwood

forest.

During his brief residence at this town, there occurred an incident which has given occasion to much unfavourable remark among his historians. A cutpurse, who confessed that he had followed the court, in the exercise of his profession, all the way from Berwick, and whose activity was evident from the

great quantity of gold found upon his person, being | here taken in the very fact, James, without waiting for trial, directed a precept to the recorder of Newark for the immediate execution of the criminal. Whether this was done in consideration of a right which he might have to inflict summary punishment for an offence committed within the precincts of the court, or with a reference to the custom of Scotland, which allowed of punishment without trial, in cases where the crime was palpable and evident to the public eye -red-hand, as it was called-cannot now be ascertained.

He left Newark on Friday the 23d of April, and advanced to Belvoir Castle, the splendid seat of the Earl of Rutland, "hunting all the way." His entertainment at this house was of the most sumptuous kind, and yielded him "exceeding pleasure." Next morning, after breakfast, and after he had dubbed a a score or two of knights, he set forward to Burleigh, dining by the way at the seat of Sir John Harrington. "His majestie, on the way, was attended by many lords and knights, and before his coming there was provided train scents, and live haires in baskets, being carried to the heath, that made excellent sport for his majestie; all the way betwixt Sir John Harrington's and Stamford, Sir John's hounds, with good mouths following the game, the king taking great leisure and pleasure in the same. Upon this heath, not far from Stamford, there appeared to the number of a hundred high men, that seemed like the Patagones, huge fellowes, twelve or fourteen foote high, that are reported to live on the Mayne of Brazil, neere to the streights of Megallant. The king at the first sight wondered what they were, for that they overlooked horse and man. But when all came to all, they proved a company of poore honest suitors, all going on high stilts, preferring a petition against the Lady Hatton. What their request was I know not; but his majestie referred them till his coming to London, and so passed on from these giants of the Fen towards Stamford; within halfe a myle whereof, the bailiffes, and the reste of the chief townsmen of Stamford, presented a gift unto his majestie, which was graciously accepted; so rid he forward through the towne in great state, having the sword borne before him, the people joyful on all parts to see him."

At Burleigh Hall, the seat of Thomas Lord Burleigh, "he and all his traine were received with great magnificence, the house seeming so riche, as if it had beene furnished at the charges of an emperour. The next day, being Easter-day, there preached before his highness the Bishop of Lincolne; and the sermone was no sooner done, but all offices in the house were set open, that every man might have free accesse to butteries, pantries, and kitchens, to eat and drink in at their pleasures."

On Monday the 26th of April, James rode back to Sir John Barrington's house, probably to enjoy another day's hunting with the knight's good hounds. But his sport, if such he designed, was prevented by his horse falling with him; an accident by which he "dangerously bruised his arm, to the great amazement and griefe of all them that were about his majestie at that time. But he, being of an invincible courage, and his blood yet hotte, made light of it at the first, and being mounted again, rode to Sir John Harrington's, where he continued that night." The true extent of the injury which James received by this accident, was a rupture in one of his clavicles. Yet, partly from a dread of being taken in hands by his physicians, of whose operations he entertained a sincere horror at all periods of his life, and partly from a wish to cause no interruption to the mirthful humour of his subjects, he concealed that fact, and only acknowledged that he was a little bruised. Being unable, however, to continue his journey on horseback, he left Sir John Harrington's house next morning in a coach; thus returning to Burleigh, "where he was royally entertained as before, but not with half that joy, the report of his hurt had disturbed all the court so much."

His next stage, on Wednesday April 27, was to Hinchinbrooke Priory, the seat of a very remarkable person-Oliver Cromwell, uncle and godfather to the Protector, but who was, in every respect of character, the reverse of his famous namesake. "In the way, he dined at that worthy and worshipful knight's, Sir Anthony Mildmay's (Althorp), where nothing wanted in a subject's duty to a soveraigne, nor any thing in so potent a soveraigne to grace so loyal a subject. Dinner being most sumptuously furnished, the tables were covered with costly banquets, wherein every thing that was most delicious for taste proved more delicate by the art that made it seem beauteous to the eye, the lady of the house being one of the most excellent confectioners in England, though I confess many honourable women very expert."

Oliver Cromwell, who was to be the king's land. lord this evening, was one of the most popular and beloved characters in all Huntingdonshire, one of the genuine old country gentlemen of the past age, who were destined to become so completely extinct in the next. This excellent person had no sooner learned that he was likely to become the host of his sovereign, than he hastened to make preparation for his proper reception, laying in stores of all kinds of meat and drink, and even making considerable additions to the extent of his house. He met the king at the gate of the great court, and conducted him along a walk that led to the principal entrance of the house. After his

of Queen Elizabeth. Here also he was, for the first time, joined by the royal body-guard, that corps hav. ing been hitherto detained in attendance on the body of their late mistress, as it was the custom of England that the guard of the monarch never transferred its services to the new sovereign till the former had been buried.

After having put the hospitality of his secretary, Cecil, to a severe proof, James departed, Saturday, May 7, and advanced towards London; being met on the way by an immense concourse of people. At Stamford Hill, James received the addresses of his worthy citizens of London. "The lord mayor presented him with the sword and keys of the city, with whom were the knights and aldermen, in scarlet gowns, and great chains of gold about their necks, with all the chief of. ficers and council of the city; besides five hundred eitizens, all very well mounted, clad in velvet coats and chains of gold, with the chief gentlemen of the hun. dred, who made a gallant show to entertain their severeign. A little way farther on, the multitudes of people in highways, fields, meadows, closes, and on trees, were such that they covered the beauty of the fields; and so greedy were they to behold the coun. tenance of the king, that with much unruliness they injured and hurt one another; some even hazarded the danger of death."

majesty had entered, the doors were thrown wide open, so as to admit all who chose to enter, whether their purpose was to have audience of the king, or only to see his person; and each individual was wel comed with the most costly viands and precious wines, even the humblest populace having free access to the cellars. Hospitality exerted in this degree was here become a much more wonderful thing than it had been on any former part of James's progress; for the multitudes which had hitherto flocked to see him were nothing to the myriads which he attracted in this more populous district. "There was such plenty and variety of meates, such diversitie of wines, and those not riffe-raffe, but even the best of the kind, and the cellars open at any man's pleasure. And if it were so common with wine, there is little question but the butteries for beere and ale were more common; yet in neither was there difference; for whoever entered the house, which to no man was denied, tasted what they had a mind to, and after a taste found fulnesse; no man like a man being denied what he would call for. As this bounty was held back to none with in the house, so for such poor people as would presse in, there were open beere-houses erected, wherein there was no want of bread and befe for the comfort of the poorest creatures. Neither was this provision for the little time of his majestie's stay, but it was made ready fourteen days, and after his highness's He thus crossed the fields to the back of the Charterdeparture distributed to as many as had a mind to it." house, where he was to lodge; the multitude all the The king remained with Cromwell until he had way saluting him with vehement shouts and cries, breakfasted on the 29th-that is, one full day and "so that one could scarce hear another speak, and, two nights. At his leaving the house, he expressed though there was no hope to find what was lost, espe himself gratified in the highest degree with the encially by the loser, yet many, in token of joy inwardly tertainment which his host and hostess had purveyed conceived in the heart, threw up their hats." At this to him; saying in his broad accent, as he passed moment of peculiar excitement, when the king might through the court, "Marry, man, thou hast treated be said to enter the capital, although not the city, old me better than any man since I left Edinburgh." The men, if we are to believe the loyal Saville, were heard probability is, he was treated better here than he ever to declare, that "it was enough for them to have lived was before or after; for it was generally allowed at to see this sight." Perhaps it was at this same mothe time, that Cromwell gave on this occasion the ment that a sagacious Scotsman, in attendance upon greatest feast that ever had been given to a sovereign his majesty, remarked, "Hout awa! thae folk wad by a subject; which must be allowed to have been no spoil a gude king." He remained in the Chartersmall praise, when we consider the splendid entertain-house three or four days, at the entertainment of Lord ments given to Elizabeth. It is pleasing to record Henry Howard, whom, as already mentioned, he had that James retained a grateful sense of the good admitted into the privy council at Theobald's. He squire's hospitality. He not only honoured him with here dubbed a great number of knights, making in all his personal friendship, but he made him a knight of the enormous number of two hundred and thirty-seven the Bath before his coronation, and he afterwards since he had left Scotland. gave him several good grants, which we have no doubt had a sensible effect on the internal comforts of Hinchinbrooke Priory.

After having reposed four days in the Charterhouse, to recover from his fatigues-fatigues of the table, we may suspect, as much as of the road-he proceeded to his palace of Whitehall, from whence he took barge for the city. Having shot London Bridge, and been saluted by a prodigious peal of ordnance from the Tower, he landed at that celebrated fortress, the lieutenant of which he received very graciously, even to the putting of his royal arm round the officer's neck; an acknowledgement, no doubt, of the assurances of fidelity to his interests, which Payton had transmitted to him before the demise of his predecessor.

At Good-Manchester, a small town not far from Huntingdon, James was surprised by a very extraordinary scene; seventy teams of horses, all traced to "faire new ploughs," being here brought to him, as a present, by seventy husbandmen, in obedience to some peculiar old tenure. Good-Manchester, it seems, was a town, "for several centuries highly celebrated for the goodness of its husbandry;" and some early king had bestowed lands upon its denizens, under the condition that they should meet him and his successors, whenever they approached the town, with seventy of those implements by which they had wrought them. A FEW WORDS ON A BRANCH OF RURAL selves so good a name as agriculturists. James, amused at the odd nature of the present, inquired into this part of the history of Good-Manchester; after which, learning that he was still nominally the proprietor of their lands, he said he was glad to be landlord of so many good husbandmen in one town, and enjoined them to continue to use their ploughs as well

as their ancestors had done before them.

ECONOMY.

"All the world should be able to have a fowl in the pot." Saying of Henri IV.

SCOTLAND produces the finest and most delicate mutton; the fish caught upon its shores are of unexampled excellence, and are furnished, along with the salmon of its rivers, in great abundance to the London market. Soon after leaving Good-Manchester, he passed out The plentifulness and excellence of our game are mat. of Huntingdonshire into Hertfordshire; and there, ter of notoriety. Scotch beef is generally small, comof course, he was left by the sheriff of the one county and met by him of the other. There was something pared to that bred on the rich pastures of the south, unusually fine in the style and retinue of the latter but is nevertheless sweet and nutritious. Our bread officer, Sir Edward Denny by name. He was "at-is prime, and every one knows that our ale and tended by a goodly company of proper men, being in whisky are prized wherever they are introduced. In number seven score, suitably apparelled, their liveries the north, we have, in short, every thing excellent blew coates, with sleeves parted in the middest, buttoned behind in jerkin fashion, and white doublets, of its kind and low in price, except poultry. Go and hats and feathers, and all of them mounted on where you will in Scotland, you can rarely procure a horses with red saddles. Sir Edward, after his hum- chicken worth eating. In nine cases out of ten, you ble dutie done, presented his majesty with a gallant see exhibited on the table poor starved things, and so horse, a riche saddle, and furniture correspondent to the same, being of great value, which his majesty ac- tough in the fibre as almost to defy mastication. In. cepted very graciously, and caused him to ride on the stead of being the most delicate, they usually form same before him. This worthy knight, being of a de- the most indigestible kind of food. In Edinburgh, in liver spirit, and agil body, quickly mounted, managing particular, the poultry is wretched, though plentiful the gallant beaste with neate and eiduing workman- enough, and sufficiently dear, considering the bulk ship, being in a rich sute of a yellow dun colour, and nature of the animals. somewhat neere the coloure of the horse and furni ture. And thus, in brave manner, he conducted his majestie on to Maister Chester's house, where his majestie lay that night on his own royal charge."

It was on Tuesday, the 3d of May, that he proached Theobald's, the seat of Secretary Cecil, twelve miles from the capital. To give the readers an idea of the crowds which flocked thither to see him, John Saville, the writer of an account of his entry into London, says that he himself, sitting in a window of the Bell at Edmontone (unquestionably the same inn alluded to in "John Gilpin"), reckoned three hundred and nine horsemen, and a hundred and thirtyseven pedestrians, pass along from London, in half an hour; and the landlord declared, that the flow of passengers had continued, at nearly the same degree of copiousness, during all that and the preceding day.

Sometimes countries go on for a long series of years under a bad system, merely from not knowing a better; and such appears to be the case with Scotland in

ap-respect of its supply of poultry. In this branch of rural and domestic economy, improvements have yet to commence. Those who at present direct their attention to the breeding and rearing of poultry, do not proceed on any methodic principle, or are aware that they are labouring under the serious evil of having, generally speaking, an improper, unkindly breed of fowls. In order to effect improvements in these respects, some individuals should here, as in certain parts of England, make a business of rearing and From Mr R. Chambers's Life of James I., Constable's Mis

At Theobald's, James was met by the principal officers of state, and by all the old servants and officerscellany.

supplying good fowls for the table. Any one who would take in hand to supply poultry to the Edin. burgh market, such as is to be bought in London, would in all likelihood very soon realise a fortune, even although he sold his commodities at much lower prices.

In the Prize Essays of the Highland Society, published last year, we find some useful hints on this subject by Mr Robison, secretary of the Royal Society of Edinburgh. This gentleman laments the bad condition of the poultry in Scotland, and proposes that premiums should be offered for its improvement. The following are a few of his observations, and we shall be gratified to learn that they have tended to accomplish the object in view :-" The inferior quality and bad condition of the poultry in the markets of Edinburgh, have always been a subject of complaint by the inhabitants, and of remark by strangers; and as it does not appear that there is any natural obstacle in the climate or soil of Scotland to the production of

animals of a good breed, and in good condition for food, it is an object worthy of the attention of the Highland Society of Scotland, to endeavour to introduce a better system than that which now prevails, and to bring to the notice of proprietors and farmers the benefit they may derive, from the raising of improved breeds of poultry, becoming a part of the regular business of their farms; and from studying the methods practised in the places which have been most successful in this branch of farming. In order to accomplish any decided amelioration in the supply of poultry, or to make the raising it for sale a profitable occupation for those who undertake it, it is essential, in the commencement, that a superior breed be introduced, in place of the mixed and mongrel race usually found on Scotch farms; and in the next place, that the requisite buildings and accommodation should be provided, where they do not already exist.

Upon consideration of the circumstances of the case, and after consultation with market dealers and others, who have had much experience in the traffic of poultry, it is humbly suggested that the most effectual way to begin the improvement would be for the Highland Society to take measures for the importation of a regular supply of eggs of the pure Dorking breed of fowls, for disposal among farmers; and to institute annual premiums for specimens of produce, to be exhibited in Edinburgh, and at the district shows, in the same way as has been done, with marked good effects, in different counties in England.

On the subject of the most approved methods of rearing and fattening poultry, ample information may be found in Mowbray and other authors. Mr Loudon, in his late work (the Encyclopædia of Cottage Architecture, page 622 to 629), gives valuable directions for the construction of poultry-houses on an extended scale, with modern improvements for heating and ventilation; he also shows how the rearing of fowls may be profitably pursued, as an occasional occupation by cottagers. [See also our number of "Information for the People"-COTTAGE ECONOMY.]

The following particulars respecting the supply of the markets of London, Edinburgh, and Paris, it is hoped, will not be without some degree of interest :The supply of London is drawn from so many quarters, that it would be difficult to point out any in particular as the principal ones. Immense cargoes are imported weekly from France by the steam-boats, and others are brought by coasting vessels from distant counties; but the finest specimens are furnished by those nearer London, where the ready sales, at good prices, have led many persons to engage extensively in rearing choice breeds. The excitement given by the premiums instituted by local associations, and by public-spirited individuals, has contributed to raise the produce of particular districts to a high state of excellence.

The Edinburgh market is likewise supplied from many sources. The best of the common fowls come from the north side of the Forth. They are brought to town by carriers and higglers, who buy them from the farmers and sell them to the dealers. It is allowed that not one-third part of the supply is in a condition fit for the table, and that no portion of it is of a good breed. The best turkies and geese come from Northumberland, but latterly great numbers have been imported from Ireland by the steam-vessels.

The following particulars regarding the supply for the consumption of Paris, have been extracted from a statement obligingly furnished by the Directeur. General des Approvisionnemens de Paris, in reply to inquiries which were addressed to him on this occasion :

During the half of the spring, all the summer, and part of the autumn, poultry is brought to Paris alive, in baskets of open wicker-work. During the cold season, the fowls are killed and plucked before being sent: they arrive in better condition during this season than when sent alive. In April, considerable quantities of very fat chickens, called poulets à la reine, are sent. These are killed at six weeks old, having been crammed (gavés) by hand during three weeks. They are plucked, trussed (cambrés), and done up (each chicken separately) in paper, previous to being dispatched,'

The carts used to convey poultry travel by relays of horses, and do not stop on the way. They come as far as twenty to twenty-five post leagues. The farThose living at a distance from Paris, not being acmers are the only persons who raise or feed poultry. quainted with the dealers, could not conveniently transact the sale of their goods; and to remedy this difficulty, factors have been appointed under the control of the Administration des Halles, who conduct the sales to the dealers, and are responsible for the payments, which are made to the owners at the close of the market. This method has inspired so much confidence, that the distant farmers seldom accompany their goods, but consign them to the factors, who account to them, and remit the proceeds of sale. The annual consumption of poultry and small game in Paris usually amounts to ten millions of kilogrammes (near twenty-two millions of English pounds weight.)"

MISCELLANEA.

LETTER OF A FRENCH EMIGRANT.- -Monsieur

both for the father and son, were kept ready saddled for them to seek their safety by flight, should there be occasion. The uncertainty in which that day was passed increased their anxiety to a painful degree; and at length, by the advice of young Carlyle, the fa ther and the son mounted their horses to seek a place of greater safety than their own house was now deemed. The number of stragglers, however, on the road, and some stray balls which sometimes crossed it nearer them than they thought altogether pleasant, made the old man determined to return home, and there abide the consequences, whatever they might prove. After the battle, the custom house of Prestonpans, in the immediate vicinity of the manse, was used by the rebels as an hospital. This circumstance brought the minister's family and the Highlanders into such close contact, that they firmly expected that the house would be taken possession of and plundered. In this emergency young Carlyle applied to his mo ther for all the old linen in the house, without intimating what he meant to do with it. He was then armed with old shirts, and, thus defended, ventured to enter the hospital. Here he told who he was, and Lasseure, a French emigrant, came to England in the said, that although he had no pretensions to surgery, year 1793, brought with him L.40 sterling, which he yet he was willing to render all the assistance in his was determined should subsist him four years, when power in dressing the wounded. While thus em. he flattered himself his country might be restored to ployed, he observed a young man, apparently an offi tranquillity, and himself permitted to return again in cer of rank, rendered helpless by a severe wound. peace. In the meantime, he took a small garret at Young Carlyle went up to him, and made to him a Somers' Town, and was observed to eat nothing but proffer of his father's house, and of himself and his bread, and drink nothing but water. A gentleman mother as his nurses, with all the accommodation and in the neighbourhood being informed of this circumaid which the place could afford, or the neighbour ham, in return for which Lasseure sent (by the help cepted; the young officer was conveyed to the manse, stance, most humanely sent him a present of a fine hood supply. This benevolent offer was gratefully acof a grammar and dictionary) the following letter of placed in its best apartment, and treated with all the thanks :-"SIR-There is the first letter that I dare tenderness his condition required. When young Car to write in the English language, pardon the gram- lyle had got him fairly lodged, he suggested to him, matical faults, in return of the hot sentiments of my that, as he was an officer of rank, he ought to be ac heart. Sure enough, sir, I am stupified by your great commodated with a guard, to prevent the danger generosity, and your admirable favour. Í have found arising from surprise or agitation occasioned by any yesterday, on arriving to my house, an enormous ham, sudden attack upon the house-an event very likely and heard it was proceeding from your goodness. to occur, as its inmates were known not to favour the How much am I gratfull, my dearest sir! above all, cause of Prince Charles. The young officer complied when I consider that I am unknown to you, and I with this suggestion-wrote to his superior, explainhave rendered you none service-this gift is then very ing the state in which the battle had left him-in what gratuitous. Ah! it is the top of the kindness, and manner he was accommodated-and requesting a make a magnificent eulogy of your generous heart-guard, for his greater security and comfort, to be would to God I should can go myself, to the end that I offer to you my thanks, but I cannot; yet the wishes that I do at London for your happiness are neither less ardent nor less sincere. If I am happy enough to carry back my body in France, I shall extol that liberality; but you shall permit me to leave to you my heart, its gratitude, and the respectful affection with which I am, sir, your very humble servant, Lasseure, Rector of Ribourseaux, Burgundy." This letter was shown to the Princess Elizabeth, on which lucky event the writer was taken from his humble garret, and introduced to plenty, and a first floor.-Edinburgh Magazine, 1821.

LETTER OF A HUMBLE SCOTSWOMAN.-The following letter, from an honest old woman near Stirling to the Emperor Alexander, was most graciously received, and a handsome gift ordered to the writer by the magnanimous sovring:-"Unto the Most Excel lent Alexander, empror of the great dominion of Russia, and the frontiers thereunto belonging, &c. &c. &c. Your most humble servant most humbly begs your most gracious pardon, for my boldness in attracting your most dread sovring for your clemency at this time. My sovring, the cause of this freedom is on the account of your sovring's goodness in saving and enlarging of my son, whose name is John Duncan, aged twenty-six years of age, who was an ap prentice, and who was prisoner with Robert Spittle, his master, captain of the Jean Spittle of Alloa, at the time of the British embargo in your sovring's dominions in Russia, who is the only support of me, his mother, and, besides, I have no other friend for my support; and on the account of your gracious bene. volence, be pleased to accept of this small present from your ever well-wisher, whilst I have breath. The small present is three pair of stockens for going on when your sovring goes a-hunting. I would have sent your sovring silk stockens if that my son could go in search for them; the pressgang being so hot at this time that he cannot go for fear of being pressed. If your sovring will be pleased to accept of this present, and favour me with an answer of this by the bearer, and tell me what family your sovring has, I will send stockens for them all for the winter, before the winter comes; and also what sons and daters you might have. Most dread sovring, I am your most obedient humble servant till death, Elizabeth Wyllie. St Ninians, by Stirling, 2d April 1804. Please direct to me, to the care of Robert Rennie, in St Ninians, by Stirling, North Britan. Sovring Alexander, Empror of Russia.”—Ibid.

ANECDOTE OF DR CARLYLE.-At the time of the last civil contest in Scotland in 1745, Mr Carlyle [afterwards for many years minister of Inveresk], who had some time before obtained licence to preach the gospel, was residing with his father, the minister of Prestonpans, when the Highlanders triumphed so signally at that place over the royal army. The known loyalty of the senior Mr Carlyle to the reigning prince, made him afraid lest he and his family should be marked out as the victims of the conquering party. On the day on which the battle was fought, horses,

placed upon the house which had afforded him an asy. lum. This request was granted. And thus, by the happy manoeuvring of young Carlyle, in a singular combination of circumstances, which at once gave ample scope to the selfish and the benevolent affec tions, he perhaps saved his father's house from pillage, and a fellow-creature from untimely death. The young officer, in an evil hour, had been prevailed upon, with out the knowledge of his family, to join the rebels; but during the time he lay an invalid in the manse of Prestonpans, he was so completely lectured out of his Jacobitism, that, on his recovery, instead of following the Highlanders to England, he returned to his friends in the north of Scotland; and as it was not publicly known that ever he had countenanced the desperate enterprise, he escaped the ruin which, after the battle of Culloden, overtook most of its partisans. Ibid.

DIAMONDS.-Diamonds! what a strange passion; what a curious disease; what a topic for speculative curiosity, is the thirst which some women feel for these precious articles! And as if it were not enough to spend thousands of pounds on what paste and glass may be made to imitate, they must needs have better than their neighbours, and in the desire to outshine, forget every thing else. Many a handsome woman enters a room, far prouder of the stones in her hair and on her bosom than all the real advantages nature has given her; and many an ugly woman has ruined her husband, and starved her tradespeople, that she might have a larger drop to her necklace than Lady Ballyna. Why? Is the handsome woman happier or even more admired; is the ugly woman less ugly with her diamonds than without them? Of all the different madnesses and false tastes created by idleness and luxury, surely this is the most unaccountable! A certain lady of fashion was for years in the habit of collecting emeralds, pearls, and other precious stones, one by one; and after she had a sufficient number for a necklace, she would request her husband to "set them." Extravagance in proportion with this branch, of expenditure, gradually consumed what had origi nally been a splendid fortune; the lady sighed over but continued her collection of jewels. the increasing embarrassment of their circumstances, At length the day arrived when they were pronounced ruined, who had long been so in reality. The lady behaved beautifully on the occasion: agreed to every species of retrenchment, but refused to give up her jewels, which would have covered almost the half of their debts. Tempted some time afterwards by a jeweller's advertisement, she went out, succeeded in bargaining for the most pure and perfect emeralds, and, on her return, found that her husband, who had been long in low spirits, had shot himself through the head. The jury brought in a verdict of lunacy, and all his friends went about regretting that they had not foreseen and prevented his melancholy end; but no one saw mad ness in the lady's conduct; and she afterwards made a rich banker (her second husband) set that very emerald as a drop to the most superb necklace ever worn at court by any one under the rank of a royal duchess. The Wife.

Column for the Bops.

escape the attention of youth. Suppose a companion were to speak to you in these words, "I would like MY DEAR LITTLE BOYS-There is a subject which if you would go and steal a penny from your mother," I have for a long time thought of speaking to you I believe you would at once refuse to commit so aboabout, worthy of your notice, which I now take an minable an action. The thievish bad companion opportunity of alluding to. The subject is the use of knows this, and so he attempts to undermine your slang words. You must understand that the English virtuous resolutions, by insinuating in the first place language which you are taught to read, write, and what a delightful thing it would be to have a penny speak, is composed of certain words of a pure or corto spend on some pleasing gratification, and then hints rect nature, sufficient for expressing every variety of in sly slang terms that it would be very easy for you sentiment, and describing all kinds of objects. It is this body of correct words which forms the best dic-practice of those evil-disposed persons whom Solomon to "nip up" such a trifle. Such is invariably the tionaries, and which all our good writers employ advises his son to avoid. I therefore say, whenever But besides this body of pure words, there is a set of words and phrases having no place in the dic- you hear any one using words of an ambiguous or slang nature, pause to think on what their real meantionaries of the English tongue, and which are used ing may be, and so prevent yourselves from falling by particular orders of people to ornament their conversation, and mostly expressive of mean or knavish ideas or unworthy objects. These words and phrases receive the appellation of slang.

At one period, particularly about a hundred and fifty years ago, and a little earlier, it was very usual for gentlemen and ladies of the highest rank, and even for kings and queens, to interlard their conversation with oaths of the most improper nature. Up till a comparatively recent period, oaths continued to be less or more used by persons in the rank of gentlemen, but in the present day it is understood that no one having Just claims to that dignity ever degrades himself by such a violation of the rules of good breeding. Slang words, however, are still extensively in use among the ignorant and idle of the upper ranks, and their example, as might be expected, is followed by the thoughtless and unprincipled in all grades of society. No one ever does ill without having an excuse, and so it is with those who are accustomed to this degrading practice. A slang word is supposed, by those who speak it, to give a more lively or grotesque meaning than a correct word could accomplish; and it is al leged there can be no harm in now and then resorting to a whimsical word of this nature, for the purpose of raising a smile or enforcing expression. Perhaps there is no great actual harm done, if any at all, in many instances of the use of slang, but these are the exceptions, not the rule, and it is the rule we must The hold to as our standard of right and wrong. great mischief which is produced in society by the use of slang is this, and I beg you will try to keep it in mind: slang words are generally intended to disguise the real character of the sentiment expressed, or the real object and tendency of the action to be accomplished; and are cheats-falsehoods. Thieves of all descriptions are well acquainted with the value of slang. They could not carry on their trade without it. After committing a theft, they would, for instance, think shame to say, "I have this evening stolen a gentleman's watch." That is so flat a confession of villany that they cannot, dare not say it. They therefore disguise the base act by this sort of language-"Well, Jack, I have been in luck; I have this evening prigged a ticker." This, you see, gives a light pleasant turn to the idea. It does not excite disagreeable feelings like the word stolen, which, however, ought to have been the word made use of. Thus it is very generally with slang words. If a man wants to cheat another, he uses a familiar slang phrase in speaking to him. When a poor prisoner is placed in jail, those who are already incarcerated insist on this unhappy new victim giving them what they call garnish. In correct language they would say, "You must give us money to drink, which money we have no right to ask ;" but you perceive that this would be too plain, and hence they make use of the slang word garnish, which disguises the injustice of the demand, and gives it a dash of frolicsome humour.

Young people cannot be too guarded in avoiding the use of any words which in this manner disguise the real character of vicious actions. The use of slang, like swearing, is a habit exceedingly easy of acquisition, and most difficult to be eradicated when once fixed and cherished. It is a habit which assuredly endangers sound moral principle, and at the very least gives a low grovelling turn to the character of those who indulge in it. When spoken by cheats, thieves, robbers, and every other species of livers on plunder, it betokens a mind sunk in vice, and perhaps hopelessly ruined. When used by gentlemen, it is equally significant of a want of purity of thought. It is impossible not to imagine that those who introduce such phraseology into their conversation are not the companions of gamblers and pick pockets, or are not in the habit of preying on the simplicity of their acquaintances.

You may, my dear young friends, depend on the , correctness of this fact, that no boy who swears, who irreverently makes use of the word GOD, or who in any respect employs improper or slang phrases, can be of good dispositions, or is in the way of welldoing. Avoid his society. Shun his company. Have nothing to do with him. Lying, stealing, and speaking slang words, are all of a piece: they go hand in hand. A thief is always a liar always a disguiser of his actions under fantastic phraseology. I think it thus necessary to put you on your guard, for I never yet knew any good come of a young man who used loose expressions. It is a well-known saying of Solomon, "My son, when sinners entice thee, consent thou not." Now, you must observe that sinners never entice any one to commit an evil deed by using correct terms of speech, which is a circumstance very apt to

into mischief.

SCOTTISH COMIC SONGS, SUPPOSED TO BE HITHERTO UNPUBLISHED. NO. II.

THE WAEFU' WANT O' SILLER. [With the origin of this ludicrous lamentation over the woes of literary indigence, we are unacquainted. It has been written down for us by a country friend, who has been long accustomed to sing it. The air is the same with Roy's Wife o' Aldivalloch, but sung a little more quickly.]

Come, ragged brethren o' the Nine,

Join, ilka honest, purseless callan; (1)
The waes o' duddy doublets sing,

suffering to make us conscious of this. A cheerful grateful disposition is a sort of sixth sense, by which we perceive and recognise happiness. He who is fully persuaded of its existence, may, like other unthinking children, break out into occasional complaints, but will sooner return to reason; for the deep and intense feel ing of the happiness of living, lies like a rose-coloured ground in his inmost heart, and shines softly through the darkest figures which fate can draw upon it. Tour of a German Prince.

NOTICE RESPECTING "A HERO IN HUMBLE

LIFE."

OUR readers will readily recollect an article in the 171st

number of the Journal, entitled "A Hero in Humble Life," commemorating the intrepidity and self-devotion of a pilot on the Clyde, whom we fictitiously named John Cochrane. We are now at liberty to mention that the circumstances, all of which were strictly true, referred to JAMES MAXWELL, at present pilot to the City of Glasgow steamer, and resident in the Broomielaw of that city. It is our pleasing duty also to mention, that we have received from various persons, on his account, the sum of L.21, 12s., the greater part of which was sent during the first week after the publication of the article, and before the appearance of a note in the ensuing number, by which we intimated our readiness to take charge

When gousty (2) Want keeks through the hallan. (3) of any monies which generous individuals might think

It's true I've nae great heart to sing, Fuistit (4) in auld hair-mouldy garret ; But yet there's ease in dulefu' croon, Though there be little in the wallet. Oh the waefu' want o' siller, Weary fa' the want o' siller;

It maks na what be in your pow, (5) Gin your pouch be bare o' siller. It's waur nor a' the waes o' life, And sair benumbs a body's noddle; For worth nor wit, without the pelf,

Is never counted worth a bodle. (6) It's no your wit, it's no your lear, Though ye should on Pegasus gallop; It maks na, gin your breeks be bare, And hinging a' in tatter-wallop.

Oh the waefu', &c.

When baugh (7) wi' care and fell mishap, And puirtith hauds a body gaunting, (8) There's never ane to speir your ail,

Gif that the penny siller's wanting. For now-a-days, there's nae sic thing As honest hearts o' Nature's lything; There'll scarce a body look your way, Gif that the siller binna kything.

Oh the waefu', &c.

Ye'll no get brose, nor breid, nor cheese,
Nor social drap to weet your wyzon: (9)
What cares the polished man o' wealth,
Though wyzon, wame, and a' gae gyzant? (10)
When lucky stars gie 's leave to sit,

Ower comfort's cozy cutchac beeking; (11)
To set your very creepy stule,

Baith rich and puir will aft be seeking.
Oh the waefu', &c.

What, think ye, is't links hands and hearts?
It's nowther beauty, wit, nor carriage;
But, frae the cottage to the ha',

It's siller aye that maks the marriage.
I've been in luve out ower the lugs,
Like mony other chield afore me;
But, 'cause my mailin was but sma,
The saucy limmers did abhor me.
Oh the waefu', &c.

Hale books I've wrote, baith prose and verse,
And mony a roosing dedication,

But nae ane owned the puir baugh chield,
Sae nocht for me but grim starvation.
And oh, but my ain shanks be sma,
My very nose as sharp's a filler;
Grim death will soon tak me awa-

Ohone, ohone, the want o' siller!

(1) Lad. (2) Ugly. (3) Threshold. (4) Withered. (5) Head. (6) Half a farthing. (7) Out of sorts. (8) Yawning. (9) Throat. (10) Ready to fall to pieces with drouth, like the staves of a long disused barrel. (11) To warm ourselves by the fireside of a house provided with every comfort.

proper to offer to one apparently so worthy of every mark of regard. The various contributions up till this date (June 3), are as follow:

A Lady residing in Stockbridge, a suburb of Edin-
burgh
Another Lady residing in Stockbridge

W. M., London

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Messrs Chambers-I beg leave to forward you the enclosed fivepound note, for the heroic pilot Cochrane, mentioned in your Journal of this day. I have taken the liberty of troubling you with it, not knowing where else I could send it. May the blessing of Him by whose providence we are all kept, accompany this small offering. I remain, Sirs, a sincere admirer of the philanthropy and morality with which your Journal is conducted, J. E. W.

Gentlemen-In your number of this day, I have just read the pathetic tale headed "A Hero in Humble Life"-John Cochrane -a noble man indeed! an honour to human nature, well worthy the consideration of his countrymen. The tale has touched my soul, and I enclose you a sovereign towards a subscription for him. I only regret that I have not a thousand pounds to spare, to lay at his feet, as I should consider myself honoured by his acceptance of it. Could not something be done towards buying him an annuity, or could not the government do something for him by way of employment? Our present king is a sailor: find means to put your Journal into his hands, and I am persuaded he will feel all the glow of an Englishman's feelings in doing a good astion.-I am, Gentlemen, yours truly, W. M.

Messrs Chambers.

Saturday, May 9, 1835.

We may here state, that one of the many accidents to which Maxwell has been exposed in consequence of his debility, consisted in a severe fracture of the ribs. The value, however, in which he was held by his employers, on account of his steady and upright character, caused them on this occasion to continue his ordinary pay during the period of his recovery. He has since then entered the service of a different company, conducting a steam shipping communication between Glasgow and Liverpool; by whom, notwithstanding the enfeebled state of his body and broken health, he is (as how could such a man be otherwise?) esteemed as a valuable servant. We cannot omit the opportunity of mentioning, that, as no addition to the tribute above stated could ex

glad to take charge of any further sums with which the public may be pleased to entrust us. 19, Waterloo Place, Edinburgh,

June 3, 1835.

CONTENTMENT.-What has often and bitterly vexed me, is to hear people lament the wretchedness of this life, and call the world a vale of sorrows. Is not enjoyment and well-being manifestly throughout the world the positive natural state of animated be. ings? Is not suffering, evil, organic imperfection or distortion, the negative shadow of this general bright-ceed the deserts of this excellent person, we shall be ness? Is not creation a continual festival to the healthy eye, the contemplation of which, and of its splendour and beauty, fills the heart with adoration and delight? And were it only the daily sight of the enkindling sun, and the glittering stars, the green of the trees, and the gay and delicate beauty of flowers, the joyous song of birds, and the luxuriant abundance and rich animal enjoyment of all living things-it would give us good cause to rejoice in life. But how much still more wondrous wealth is unfolded in the treasures of our own minds! What mines are laid open by love, art, science, the observation and history of our own race, and, in the deepest deep of our souls, the pious reverential sentiment of God and his universal work! Truly we were less ungrateful were we less happy; and but too often we stand in need of

• More minutely, his address is, "M'Alpine's Land, Brown Street, Broomielaw, Glasgow."

LONDON: Published, with Permission of the Proprietors, by ORB & SMITH, Paternoster Row: G. BERGER, Holywell Street, Strand; BANCKS & Co., Manchester; WRIGHTSON & WEBB, Birmingham; WILLMER & SMITH, Liverpool; W. E. SOMER SCALE, Leeds; C. N. WRIGHT, Nottingham; M. BINGHAN, Bristol; S. SIMMS, Bath; C. GAIN, Exeter; J. PURDON, Hull; A. WHITTAKER, Sheffield; H. BELLERBY, York; J. TAYLOR, Brighton; and sold by all Booksellers, Newsmen, &c. in town and country.

Stereotyped by A. Kirkwood, Edinburgh. Printed by Bradbury and Evans (late T. Davison). Whitefriars.

[graphic]

CONDUCTED BY WILLIAM CHAMBERS, AUTHOR OF "THE BOOK OF SCOTLAND," &c., AND BY ROBERT CHAMBERS, AUTHOR OF "TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH," "PICTURE OF SCOTLAND," &c.

No. 179.

IT CAN'T BE DONE. WE had lately occasion to employ some joiners to make an alteration in the passages of a house, and, on coming in the course of the day to see how the work was advancing, found that they were proceeding upon a plan which threatened much inconvenience, but which was the most obvious that could have been adopted. We suggested another mode, by which the inconvenience might be avoided; but there was something eccentric about it, something inconsistent with the usual practice of the craft, and we accordingly received for answer, We insisted, nevertheless, on our proposal being Why, sir, it can't be done." adopted, and it was so, but under a strong protest from the foreman, disclaiming all responsibility for the result, and not without some ill-suppressed sneers and grumblings on the part of the subordinate operatives. On the conclusion of the work, it was found precisely suitable; nor did any evil consequence of any kind flow from our having followed our own judgment.

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SATURDAY, JULY 4, 1835.

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tion, where he may defend himself from contumely
some prospect of his being able to take a bolder posi-
muring "It can't be done," resigns himself to what
and injury: he shrinks from the very idea, and mur-
the professional man, who, like certain animals, has
taken one meal of knowledge and gone to sleep for
he has long been disposed to think "his fate." Tell
ever, or any other sort of person who regularly op-
poses every thing till it is established, and then "
cumbers it with help," that there is a project for
applying steam to navigation, or gas to domestic use,
meets you with a blighting "It can't be done."
or the monitorial system to education, and he instantly
Every thing great and useful has to go through an
stances, how many noble spirits are condemned to
"It can't be done" stage, during which, in some in-
sigh themselves into atrophy, or chafe themselves into
madness! The heart-break of Columbus was, "It
can't be done." It is the most sluggish, the most
cowardly, the most cruel, the most pernicious of

maxims.

mencement of the Peninsular war, Lord Wellington
The generation of It can't be dones is also not un-
common in the army. For some time after the com-
had an adjutant-general (perhaps we are mis-stating
the office, but it is of little consequence) who had seen
a good many previous campaigns, and was a very re-
spectable officer, according to ordinary views, but
never received an order without starting objections,
and usually went away with an appearance of utter
despair as to the possibility of carrying the project into
execution.
can't be done," was quite unsuitable to the new mode
that this worthy gentleman, with his constant "It
The commander-in-chief soon perceived
of carrying on war; and it therefore became a matter
of great importance that a proper substitute should be
found. Wellington had chanced lately to give one or
two occasional orders of a somewhat difficult kind to
a young captain, who, in receiving them, had not be-
trayed the slightest mark of either surprise at the na-
with a simple assent, had gone promptly off to do
ture of the command, or fear for its execution, but,
what was required. This man he immediately ele-
vated to the office in question, and it is said that no
commander ever had a better assistant. On another
of some boats with provisions up one of the Portuguese
occasion, some delay had taken place in the bringing
rivers, and a commissariat officer, who was responsi-
ble for the duty, was summoned to the presence of the
chief. "Why are those boats not yet brought up?"
The difficulty-one evidently easy to be surmounted
mander, "if they are not brought up to-morrow at
"Look you, sir," replied the com-
brought up.
ten o'clock, you shall be broke." The boats were

We would say and we of course say it in all friendly good-humour-that the "It can't be done" of our friend the foreman is a phrase too prevalent among artizans. If, in the thing which you employ them to fabricate a pair of shoes, for instance, or any other piece of clothing-you require, for taste or necessity, any departure from the usual rule, it is three to one that you are met with this "It can't be done;" or, if the work be undertaken, you are almost equally sure to have it executed in the usual manner, and all your remonstrances answered with a retrospective version of the phrase " It could'nt be done." ing after a particular fashion-the blinding effects of The habit of workcustom-incapacitate the greater number of mechanics for taking up and adapting their ingenuity to particular cases; and it is only a small proportion of lively and salient minds who can be induced to break through the dogged and perversely straight forward system of their respective professions. These clever fellows are probably those who attain promotion; but there should be more of them. An individual who, for whatever reason or purpose, requires articles of extraordinary construction, often experiences the greatest difficulty in getting workmen willing, not to say able, to take up the specialties of the case. know, for instance, one unhappy gentleman, who deWe clares, with reference to a particular part of his dress, where nature has called for a slight departure from the usual forms, under the penalty of very severe suffering, that he was twenty-five years of age, and endured tortures often nearly insupportable, before he happened to encounter a tradesman, who, for love or money, would yield to the necessities of the case-and that tradesman was one, who, requiring something like the same uncommon measure himself, could only be supposed to act through-shall we say ?-a selfish sympathy.

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"It can't be done," however, is an aphorism by no means confined to the plodding arts, or the more industrious departments of society. It affects classes of much higher pretension, and who, we may venture to prophesy, will be much longer in abandoning it than the rapidly improving operative classes. It is a protective speech for the indolent, the timid, the selfsufficient, and the obstructive, of all orders. Tell the sluggard to rouse himself to some particular exertion which will clearly tend to his advantage: he turns himself in his bed, and, yawning forth an "It can't be done," is once more asleep almost before the sentence is concluded. Tell the fearful man-some poor fellow who has been scowled, oppressed, and buffeted out of all spirit and energy-that there is at length

-was stated.

the benumbing influence of this miserable aphorism,
Perhaps there is no class of men who are more under
respect to precedent, and keeping up antiquated forms
of phraseology as essential to the validity of what they
than the professors of the law. The habit of yielding
are engaged to do, seems to fix itself upon them, and
affect all the processes of their understandings. No
matter how clumsy, how tedious, how expensive,
how vexatious are the forms of their profession; they
they cannot be altered. It is on this account that we
are deemed sacred from the touch; they must not,
still labour under the influence of usages which were
adapted to a rude state of society, and the continuance
of which in the present age is a burlesque on the pre-
account that pretty nearly an acre of writing is still
sumed intelligence of the nation. It is on no other
required to convey a property not much greater in
extent, and the price of which will barely pay the

PRICE THREE HALFPENCE.

the cost of recovery of a debt, in many instances, expenses of transfer. It is on no other account that body sees that all this is nonsense, except the men far exceeds the sum which is sued for. their understandings narrowed by long continuance in the antiquated practices; and, therefore, we have who are interested in supporting it, or who have had Every the sorry consolation of knowing that some hundreds more comfortable in this respect than ourselves. An exemplary instance of the impracticability of of years may elapse before our posterity shall be tion. this order of men lately came under our observacused of crimes for a period of three and four months We mentioned to a gentleman in connection previously to trial, making them associate together in with the higher criminal courts, that it was certainly the interval, and therefore either punishing them bea most injurious practice to confine individuals acfore they were proved to be guilty, or allowing them to contaminate each other by their society. "Oh, it cisive on the subject." It was in vain we reprecannot be otherwise," he replied; sented that the whole system should be altered-the soon after the commission of the offence as possible; "they are tried as no better plan could be devised; the law is quite dethe force of the argument. From having looked for years at a particular routine of procedure, he could not courts sitting daily if necessary-both for the sake of imagine the possibility of any thing better. The idea the community and of individuals. He could not see be for the worse. was too new to be comprehended. Any change must "It can't be done."

GEOGRAPHICAL DISTRIBUTION OF

ANIMALS.

NATURE-by which, as a phrase of convenience, we mal or vegetable life to be localised in any portion of generally prefer denoting the great Creating and Disposing Power-has appointed very few forms of aniof heat and cold, and, accordingly, are to be found The most of them are calculated for certain degrees distributed in rings or zones around the globe, or at the globe approaching to its entire terrestrial surface. reference in both cases to the temperature of the situ where found to modify this general rule. The nature ation. Some minor circumstances are almost every certain altitudes on elevated grounds, with a direct of the soil and surface; the different degrees of dry. the climate and vegetation; the comparative extent of land and water; the extent and continuity of forests, ness and humidity, and the consequent character of marshes, and sandy deserts; the direction of mountain face of the earth. A country may be insular, and falls, and the form and position of lakes ;-these and ranges, the courses of rivers, the existence of waterseveral other circumstances will be found materially neighbouring shores; or in advancing from a wild to a cultivated state, it may lose various tribes approthus be deficient in some species abounding on the to affect the distribution of animal life over the surpriate to the former condition. Thus, Ireland had no reptiles, till, at the close of the seventeenth century, they were introduced, by way of frolic, by a student of the Dublin University; and thus the wolf and wild boar, which formerly peopled our Caledonian forests, where alone of all others could they be properly sustained: the elephant, for instance, exists only in have for ages been extirpated. In some cases, animals are found to have been placed in situations, readily to afford it a sufficiency of food. climates where vegetation is very luxuriant, so as

Edinburgh Review, liii. 330.

In some

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