quired direction, and he saw the end hang down on The cord, which he had now an opportunity of fastening properly, enabled him to descend with comparative facility; and the next day he carried up with him a ladder of ropes, by means of which he found it easy to effect the necessary repairs," ROMANCE OF WAR. [From Kincaid's Random Shots from a Rifleman.] THE last night at Badajos had been to the belligerents such as few had ever seen the next, to its devoted inhabitants, was such as none would ever wish to see again, for there was no sanctuary within its friendship of man is one thing-the friendship of wo- The situation was so near to the outposts, and a Pre and pro, at the commencement of words, for the same reason, must be carefully discriminated. There are certain words and classes of words which, from some cause or other, seem to have fallen into almost general perversion; such are haunt, taunt, flaunt; all these have the sound of au in aunt, or ancle, with the exception of vaunt; and the exclamation avaunt follows the same rule. Nouns and adjectives in ile are not unfrequently mispronounced, as hostile, servile, reptile; with the exception of Gentile, senile, and exile, these terminations are short. A vague and indefinite sound is often given to nouns and adjectives in ain, as captain, chieftain; these have the final sound like in, Britain being an exception. Every public speaker knows to his cost the difficulty of giving force and impressiveness to such half-formed sounds: they lack breadth on which to base a weighty and massive emphasis. Many of our best authors have overlooked the importance of an association of sense and sound, without considering whether their words were sufficiently sonorous for the situation assigned My mind had the moment before been sternly octhem, or, by bestowing the whole weight and emphasis on trivial words, while the stronger stalk unloaded. cupied in calculating the difference which it makes in a man's future prospects his killing or being killed, Between writer, reader, and speaker, there ought to I was conversing with a friend the day after, at the when "a change at once came o'er the spirit of the be a complete understanding, for they have a mutual door of his tent, when we observed two ladies coming dream," and throughout the remainder of that long dependence. Among all the arts there exists a much from the city, who made directly towards us; they and trying day, I felt a lightness of heart and a buoy-stronger affinity than is generally imagined; but between the effective delivery of language and forcible seemed both young; and when they came near, the el-ancy of spirit which, in such a situation, was no less construction, the relation is so close that want of skill new than delightful. in the former is sure tò entail unskilfulness and inefficiency on the latter. Sounds naturally contract and dilate with the subjects they image; we instinctively give a breadth and fulness of line to important matter, and pass lightly over what is of minor moment. The poets have availed themselves largely of this verbal colouring, but few have equalled Campbell in the effective application of it. The word "boom" in the "Battle of the Baltic" is a remarkable instance. As one or two specimens of words frequently mispronounced, even by the educated classes:-dezign for design, hover for huver, wont pronounced want instead of wunt, sovereign for suvereign, combat for cumbat, comrade for cumrade, Monmouth for Munmouth, Cromwell for Crumwell, figgur for figure, &c. walls. der of the two threw back her mantilla to address us, showing a remarkably handsome figure, with fine features, but her sallow, sunburnt, and careworn, though still youthful countenance, showed that in her "the time for tender thoughts and soft endearments had fled away and gone." She at once addressed us in that confident heroic manner so characteristic of the high-bred Spanish maiden, told us who they were, the last of an ancient and honourable house, and referred to an officer high in rank in our army, who had been quartered there in the days of her prosperity, for the truth of her tale. Her husband, she said, was a Spanish officer in a distant part of the kingdom; he might or he might not still be living. But yesterday, she and this her youngest sister were able to live in affluence and in a handsome house-to-day, they knew not where to lay their heads where to get a change of raiment or a morsel of bread. Her house, she said, was a wreck; and to show the indignities to which they had been subjected, she pointed to where the blood was still trickling down their necks, caused by the wrenching of their ear-rings through the flesh, by the hands of worse than savages, who could not take the trouble to unclasp them! For herself, she said, she cared not; but for the agitated, and almost unconscious maiden by her side, whom she had but lately received over from the hands of her conventual instructresses, she was in despair, and knew not what to do; and that, in the rapine and ruin which was at that moment desolating the city, she saw no security for her but the seemingly indelicate one she had adopted, of coming to the camp and throwing themselves upon the protection of any British officer who would afford it; and so great, she said, was her faith in our national character, that she knew the appeal would not be made in vain, nor the confidence abused. Nor was it made in vain! nor could it be abused, for she stood by the side of an angel! A being more transcendantly lovely I had never before seen-one more amiable, I have never yet known! I never, until then, felt so forcibly the beautiful description of Fitz-James's expression of feeling, after his leave-taking of Helen, under somewhat similar circumstances :-- "And after oft the knight would say, READING. GOOD reading involves three grand requisites: a correct pronunciation of words, singly and in combination; a due observation of those pauses, emphases, and inflexions, which serve to mark the meaning; and in superadding those tones which express the passions and emotions of the heart. In the union of these three, the perfection of reading consists. A correct pronunciation is a primary ingredient; for, as there is no necessary connection between words and things, but the association is purely conventional, it is very evident that, without an adherence to some common standard, we should be imperfectly understood; therefore, the more we agree with it the more intelligible we shall make ourselves. Although it can never be expected that all should attain extreme purity and refinement of pronunciation, or that they should be able to escape local contamination, yet it is deserving the attention of all to divest themselves of the grosser peculiarities of their dialect, so that they may be efficiently understood. Our first care, therefore, should be never to allow one word to be mistaken for another. To transpose or omit the aspirate [h] is a very prevalent error in the provinces, and gives rise to the most ludicrous mistakes. For instance, we hear it sometimes said of a lady "that her air is very fine;" and, naturally concluding that the address and manners of the lady are eulogised, we are not a little surprised to find that the compliment is intended for her hair, and that the glossiness and exuberance of her tresses, not the polish of her manners, form the subject of eulogy. The Indian juggler who swallowed the sword was thought to have achieved no ordinary feat; but this is nothing to what I have heard my own countryman profess, when he gravely assured me he was going to eat the poker;" and when I might momently have expected to see the obdurate instrument transferred to the jaws of the magical masticator, the difficulty was at once explained, by his simply inserting it between the bars of the fire; meaning not that he would actually eat or devour the poker, but merely that he would heat it, or make it hot. When aspirates and non-aspirates come together in clusters, confusion then has made his masterpiece. "Hi hentered is ouse, That a being so young, so lovely, so interesting, just hand hi hoffered im my and." Of a practice got to emancipated from the gloom of a convent, unknowing this length the cure will be no easy matter; but to to the world and to the world unknown, should thus the unperverted the correct application of the aspirate have been wrecked on a sea of troubles, and thrown on is a very simple business, the h being mute in very few the mercy of strangers under circumstances so dread-words, which may be learnt in three minutes by referful, so uncontrollable, and not to have sunk to rise no ring to Walker. Humble for umble has been rather more, must be the wonder of every one. Yet, from in vogue of late. To this innovation there is a dethe moment she was thrown on her own resources, her cided objection, as giving force and elevation to a word star was in the ascendant. which indicates the very reverse. The Scotch are Guided by a just sense of rectitude, an innate purity perfectly free from this perversion of the aspirate, but of mind, a singleness of purpose which defied malice, they have a very coarse pronunciation of the letter, as and a soul that soared above circumstances, she be-well as of the letter r; giving a rough, guttural sound came alike adored of the camp and of the drawing- to the r, and generally pronouncing h much too forciroom, and eventually the admired associate of princes. bly. When occurring in the middle of a word, they She yet lives, in the affections of her gallant husband, make a pause, as if to mark the place of its insertion. in an elevated situation in life, a pattern to her sex, This is decidedly wrong; the aspirate should always and the every body's beau ideal of what a wife precede the word. To the younger branches it may should be. not be superfluous to remark, that an for a is used bethe second syllable, as an harmonious, an hereafter. Care must be taken to prevent interchange and consequent confusion between the words ending in al and le, as principle for principal. "I shall do myself the honour to attend his bridle." How very condescending! he means to hold his horse! No such thing; it is to attend his wedding; he meant to say bridal, not bridle. Fourteen summers had not yet passed over her youthful countenance, which was of a delicate freshness, more English than Spanish-her face, though not perhaps rigidly beautiful, was nevertheless so remarkably handsome, and so irresistibly attractive, surmounting a figure cast in nature's fairest mould, that to look at her was to love her and I did love her; but I never told my love, and, in the meantime, another, and a more impudent fellow, stepped in and won her!-but yet I was happy; for in him she found such a one as her loveliness and her misfortunes claimed-a man of honour, and a husband in every way worthy of her! My reader will perhaps bear with me on this sub-fore words, though aspirated, when the accent falls on ject yet a little longer. Thrown upon each other's acquaintance in a manner so interesting, it is not to be wondered at that she and I conceived a friendship for each other, which has proved as lasting as our lives a friendship which was cemented by after circumstances so singularly romantic that imagination can scarcely picture them! The A very little care will serve to remove all gross and palpable errors in pronunciation, and these ought to be unsparingly eradicated, as they always operate more or less to the obscuration of the meaning. Whenever attention is called off by any peculiarity from the matter conveyed to the medium of conveyance, in that degree the reader or speaker defeats the only rational object of his art, which is to impress ideas on the mind, and feelings on the heart, and not mere sounds upon the ear; and for this reason any thing like affectation cannot be too severely reprobated. The highest apex of art, when once attained, only places us in more immediate contact with nature. This is strikingly the case in every department of study. The young artist is caught at first with constrained attitude and glaring colours; but he soon learns to subdue his style, and to prefer the natural and simple to the glaring and effective. The inexperienced declaimer labours under a similar delusion; he imagines that every thing is to be effected by mere violence; he delights in extravagant gesture, loud vociferation, and distortion of countenance; but when once he comes to see the proficients in his art, he is astonished to find with how little expenditure of power the greatest effects are produced, and that more is often achieved by a pointed movement of the finger, a simple inflection of the voice, or even a quiet turn of the eye, than by all the violence and distortion which he had previously mistaken for excellence. The same remark is proverbial of style and composition. "True ease in writing," says the most polished wielder of the English pen, "True ease in writing comes from art, not chance, As those move easiest who have learned to dance." And that easy and familiar style, scarcely one remove from correct and polished conversation, has always been found most difficult of attainment. Dr Johnson threw off his "Rambler" with scarcely an erasure; Addison, and others of the same school, corrected and revised incessantly. The same remark applies to oratory, and proves that, in an artificial state of things (and such is ours), it is only by the guidance of art that we can arrive at the simplicity of nature. The child, indeed, while yet unconscious of the restraints that surround him, is easy and graceful as the young Indian who, in his cradle of bark, has been rocked upon the forest bough. There is music in every tone, his every movement is a picture. He requires no tutor for deportment; he is perfect from nature. Instinctive master of every tone and gesture, he modulates and inflects his voice with surprising facility and effect: attempt to deprive him of his toy, "Give it me," he exclaims; "'tis mine, not yours." "Sweet is the voice of girls, the song of birds, The lisp of children, and their earliest words." Thus he continues, for a while, the delight and admiration of all who hear and behold him; but time, the great, though insensible, transmuter of all things, rolls on, and, as it gradually unfolds his mind, discloses to him the artificial restraints by which he is surrounded. The hypocrisy of this conventional state of things presses painfully on his young, ingenuous mind; he perceives that certain observances must be attended to, certain forms cannot be violated with impunity; he hesitates-with hesitation comes restraint, and with restraint its natural concomitants, awkwardness and embarrassment; he is rapidly passing into another stage of being, and the little eloquent picture we so lately admired is soon transformed into the awkward, skulking, and ungainly boy. How do we then proceed? We subject him to an artificial discipline; he is gradually initiated into all the observances of polished life; he is taught how to demean himself in the streets, at the table, in the drawing-room; and thus, in process of time, and by dint of discipline, recovering what he has lost, he emerges into society, the easy, natural, and accomplished man; and thus, by the circuitous route of art, is he brought back to the simplicity of nature. From Professor Calvert's Lectures to the Liverpool Mechanics' Institution. THE MANTIS. THE Juvenile Forget-Me-Not for 1836 contains a paper by Dr Walsh, entitled "Dialogue between Father and Child," in the course of which the author describes the insect called the Mantis, or Walking Leaf: F. There is a gravity in his motions, a wisdom in his aspect, and a sage and deliberate character in the manner in which he moves his head, that it has obtained for him the name of Mantis, or soothsayer, many of whose qualities are ascribed to him, and he is actually believed to possess them. He reposes deliberately on his hind legs, like an animal in a sitting posture, and then he raises one or both of his fore-legs like arms in such a way, with the nail projecting, that he looks exactly like a human being, pointing with his finger to some object to which he directs the attention; and at one time he is supposed to be intimating a future event, and then he is called the Diviner, and consulted like an oracle. At another he is thought to be pointing out the right path to a traveller; and in countries where the insect is found, particularly among the superstitious peasantry of the south of France, when a traveller loses his way, he searches among the bushes for a mantis to direct him. D. That is very curious. F. But he exhibits attitudes more curious still. He sometimes holds both fore-feet together, a little elevated, looking at the same time up to heaven with the most solemn aspect, and he exactly resembles a human being with his hands folded in the act of devotion. He is then called le prie Dieu, or the worshipper, and looked upon in that attitude as something holy. This veneration is increased because he seems to possess the sense of hearing, and turns his head to the sound of an organ, as if he was particularly impressed with the nature of sacred music. On some occasions, when he is sought after, he suddenly contrives to elude his pursuers, and disappears. Hence he is supposed to be gifted with supernatural powers to deceive and escape from his enemy, and he is called the Invisible. lives for a length of time without food, light, or air, even longer than most insects, and, from this tenacity | of life, he is called the Immortal. And that nothing might be wanting to add to the respect which superstition attaches to these insects, the eggs of some species are found disposed in the form of a cross, as if by this they intended to display their veneration for the sacred emblem. He D. Dear papa, did you ever see any of these things yourself? F. From the various and curious accounts I had heard, I was very desirous to examine them in their native state, and be an eye-witness to their motions and habits. Whenever I was in a country where they are found, I always procured some, and so had an opportunity. The first place I saw one was near Ephesus, in Asia Minor. We were taken prisoners, and detained all night on the banks of a river, by a party of Turks, and they accidentally set fire with their pipes to some dry reeds and bushes which covered the ground about us. As the fire advanced, the grass and leaves seemed endued with animation, and to be moving from it. On looking a little closer, I found what I thought was vegetable matter had really life. The humid soil and great heat of the climate had produced a vast quantity of insects in this place, and among them several kinds of mantis, who were disturbed by the fire, and instinctively moving from it. Their motions were very grave and deliberate. After moving a little way, they stopped and looked back, as if to see whether the fire was advancing to them, and then walked on again. I brought away with me a large one, which exactly resembled a branch with a leaf attached to each side, and I kept him a long time at the palace at Constantinople, watching his motions, which exactly resembled what I had heard of them. He sometimes held up his fore-feet, with his head raised as if in the act of prayer; and sometimes he would turn and look up to me in the same attitude, as if entreating me to let him go. I caught another on a pine-tree in an island of the sea of Marmora, which was endued with the faculty of distinguishing sounds, and was attracted or repelled as they were agreeable or disagreeable. He was standing on a table, when a lady in the room struck a piano-forte. He started, turned his head in the direction of the sound, and astonished every one present by actually raising and letting fall one of his fore-feet, as if beating time to the music. On another occasion I was exhibiting the insect to a friend in my apartments, and turned round to call his attention to some curi ous motions it was making. When I looked again, it THE YELLOW VIOLET. And woods the blue bird's warble know, Sweet flower! I love in forest bare Of all her train, the hands of Spring Beside the snow-bank's edges cold. Pale skies, and chilling moisture sip, And streak'd with jet thy glowing lip. And earthward bent thy gentle eye, Thy early smile has stayed my walk, That I should ape the ways of pride. Awakes the painted tribes of light, A SUNDAY IN FRANCE. THE following account of a Sunday in France is given "In the morning before breakfast, we walked into ment. Conceive a beautiful wood, with an open space in the centre, with tents and booths of every description-here a ball, and there a concert, shows and exhibitions without number, and an immense concourse of well-dressed people mixing in the dance, or trying their good fortune at some game of chance, amid the hoise of shouting and music, and you may have some conception of the grand fair of St Cloud. It is generally announced by authority to take place at one of the royal residences, and graciously countenanced by his majesty as he returns from chapel in his carriage. The scene was such as we could have enjoyed at any other time, for the people were all sober, orderly, and well behaved-but such was not our idea of the way to spend a Sabbath. We now hastened back to the city, and found the gardens crowded with people, and the shops nearly all shut-most of them, we believe, close about four in the afternoon, for the purpose of getting some recreation. Now, in reality, is all Paris in the streets, the hum of human voices is heard every where the public gardens are crowded with loungers, and the music is more splendid than usual. In the garden of the Palais Royal the fountain is playing, and on both sides of it may be seen crowds rushing into the theatres, which reap a rich harvest on Sabbath evenings; and again smaller parties of two or three desperate characters may be seen passing to and from the legalised gaming-house, in one of the principal streets, near this spot. Such is the mode of spending a Sabbath in Paris-public amusements, theatricals, and gambling. We retired to our room, sick and wearied of such scenes, having never before in one day witnessed so much of human depravity." TURNPIKE ROADS AND RAILWAYS. WHEN the imperfections of any old system, and its The publication of the Educational Course projected by Messrs extremes of the series, have appeared-Infant Education between Two and Six Years of Age, 1s. 6d. sewed, 2s. cloth beards-and a History of the English Language and Literature, 2s. sewed, and 23. 6d. cloth boards. British History and Resources; a First Introduction to Nature; and Geography; are in preparation, and will soon appear. Chambers's Educational Course is designed to embrace Educa Having reached Versailles, we found little appearance for a while of his majesty coming to churchshortly we were told he would be likely to come first to inspect the masons who were working at his palace there, and then go to chapel. We were not a little astonished to find some hundreds of masons and other labourers, busy at their work, repairing the palace; CHAMBERS has now commenced. Two works, almost from the here, too, the shops were all open, women washing in the open air, hay driving to the market, and all sorts of business proceeding as usual. Shortly after the king did arrive, but we were told no one could get within a hundred yards of his carriage, he is so closely guarded. We passed on to the gardens of Versailles, which surpass all description for grandeur and extent. They were crowded with people promenading in every direction. Here the chief object of attraction was the palace of Bonaparte and the Empress Josephine; it tion-Physical, Moral, and Intellectual, from infancy to fourteen is open to the public, and servants are placed into it by government, to exhibit it to strangers for a shilling or two-Sabbath to them is the best day of the week. But this, with all its disregard for the Sabbath, was but a tithe of what we had yet to witness at St Cloud, another royal residence about six miles from Paris. It is a lovely spot, situate at the foot of a gentle declivity, beautifully studded with trees and long shady groves, and several very large fountains. Here there is an annual fete or grand fair, which begins on the 6th of September, and lasts for three weeks. The 6th September happened this year to be a Sabbath, but just so much the better for commencing the fair. Accordingly, on our arrival, about five o'clock in the afternoon, we found at least eight or ten thousand people collected, some promenading in the avenues, some loitering by the fountains-but the great mass engrossed with some kind of active amuse years of age-according to the most advanced views upon this mo- The works may be had from all the agents for the sale of Messrs LONDON: Published, with Permission of the Proprietors, by ORB & SMITH, Paternoster Row; and sold by G. BERGER, Holywell Street, Strand: BANCKS & Co., Manchester; WRIGHTSON & WEBB, Birmingham; WILLMER & SMITH, Liverpool; W. E. SOMERSCALE, Leeds; C. N. WRIGHT, Nottingham; M. BINGHAM, Bristol; S. SIMMS, Bath; C. GAIN, Exeter; J. PURDON, Hull; A. WHITTAKER, Sheffield; H. BELLERBY, York, J. TAYLOR, Brighton; GEORGE YOUNG, Dublin; and all other Booksellers and Newsmen in Great Britain and Ireland, Canada, Nova Scotia, and United States of America. Complete sets of the work from its commencement, or numbers to complete sets, may at all times be obtained from the Publishers or their Agents. Stereotyped by A. Kirkwood, Edinburgh. 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. 205. LABOUR. LABOUR is generally thought of and felt as an evil. Limiting ourselves expressly to a view of the present constitution of the world, we would say that it is absolutely rather a blessing than an evil, and can only be entitled to the latter appellation under peculiar circumstances, and when carried to excess. Every thing in nature tells us that labour is one of its fundamental institutions. The fruits of the earth can neither be raised nor prepared without labour. The successive generations of the race cannot be fitted to take up the duties of those which preceded them, without labour. No comfort which we know can be procured without labour. And every thing in man tells us clearly that he was destined to labour. Not only has he natural appetites which labour alone can gratify, but his whole body and mind are suited expressly to a state of things in which labour holds a prominent place. How exquisitely is the hand calculated to perform the innumerable duties assigned to it! How admirably are the arms, the limbs, the whole muscular frame, qualified to be exerted in the many various tasks to which they are applied! The adaptation of the hand alone manifests this design in so many ways, that it has been made the single subject of a large book. But yet its wonders sink into nothing, when we come to contemplate the relation between labour and the mind. In that portion of our constitution, not only is there a general adaptation, through the senses and the muscular system, to an active state of existence, but every single faculty has its objects in external nature upon which it may and ought to exert itself, and which have evidently been intended to be so operated upon. Nor has it alone been designed that the mind and body of man should be active, but the pleasures of existence have been made to depend, in no small degree, upon that activity; so that labour, instead of being in its very nature a pain and an evil, is, rightly ordered, a thing indispensable to our happiness. The health of every muscle of the body and of every faculty of the mind depends on exercise, and more particularly upon exercise which is performed with a motive or for a purpose, for in that case only is a proper stimulus given to the nervous energy, by which the parts are invigorated. Nor is the health thus secured a negative advantage only; but, when the whole organisation is exercised harmoniously, and in obedience to the various laws of our being, it is the source of a positive pleasure, although one which we are most apt to recognise, when, through some disobedience to the will of the Creator, it has been temporarily or permanently forfeited. Thus, without any regard to the results of labour, which are obvious blessings, we find it in itself a blessing a thing without which we are ill, with which we are well, a sensible tangible means of creating enjoyment. So truly is this the case, that those who do not require to labour for subsistence, almost without exception labour for pleasure, as the many various pursuits of country gentlemen, in their capacities of legislators, justices, land-improvers, and so forth, abundantly testify. To have nothing to do is indeed acknowledged by the common sense of mankind as one of the greatest of all evils. From the earliest times, writers upon human life and manners have employed their pens in ridiculing those who allow themselves to be afflicted with it. Even the overtasked slave, if he felt but the horrors of one day of what the idle affluent term ennui, would gladly return to his work. It would indeed appear that an absolute privation of employment, if such a thing were possible, would soon render the human being a complete wreck. SATURDAY, JANUARY 2, 1836. | life, it is not less truly destructive of all enjoyment, By the system of excessive labour, not only is the mind overtasked in one direction, but its better parts are left completely uncultivated. The whole mental and bodily fabric of man was designed to be to him an instrument or medium of enjoyment, his moral sentiments, including reverence to his Creator, being those which are qualified to give the purest pleasures. But if he spends nearly the whole of his time in gratifying the mean passion for wealth, or in obtaining the primary necessaries of life, he neither has leisure nor is apt to have inclination for the culture of his higher faculties. He is, in such circumstances, a mere fragment of the being he might be a sort of fallen angel, in which the original features of heavenly beauty can only be obscurely read through the grime and anguish of a debasing doom. Such in reality are many of the humbler labourers in our nether sphere, though not While labour is thus necessary to the enjoyment of one of them but possesses qualities which might be .PRICE THREE HALFPENCE. brightened into immortal loveliness, and feelings which might vibrate in rapture. Nor are the successful men of trade much their superiors. Having cultivated no portions of their natures but those which were serviceable in pursuing wealth, they now possess no means of enjoying their gains, which they accordingly declare to be altogether vain and vexatious. It is surely to be desired that the purposes of labour, in the natural economy of the world, were better understood among both the industrious and the idlethat the idle should know it to be a condition indispensable to the health of body and mind, and the industrious that, used in moderation, it is the means of acquiring every comfort, but, followed in excess, the enemy of all true happiness, present and prospective, and frequently the cause of premature death. The fundamental mistake lies in supposing it to be an evil. Even those who most largely indulge in it, are impressed with this false notion. They submit to it as a present hardship, for the sake of an eventual good. And not only will they endure it for the purpose of gaining an exemption for themselves, but, under the influence of an undue love of their offspring, and perhaps some more vain and selfish feeling still, they will wear themselves away in frantic efforts to extend the exemption to their posterity. "I am a complete drudge," they will say, "and come home every night quite fagged. It is a dreadful life, to be sure; but I can hardly fail to get a little rest in the long-run, or at least my children will be gentlemen." And when we reflect on the life led by such men, we cannot wonder that they consider labour as an unmixed evil, and of course the contrary as an unmixed good. But, let them labour as nature intended them and fitted them to labour, and the truth will be apparent. They will then see that, by over-labouring for the purchase of complete ease, they are putting their life's blood into a lottery, the very prizes of which are misery and death. The condition of the operative, who labours without any prospect of ultimate ease, may appear at first sight as worse than that of his employer. If his labours were equally severe, and unrelieved by the delusive hopes which animate the employer, we should acknowledge that his case was worse. But while he is exempt from the actual danger of being ultimately left idle, his current labours are not in general nearly so severe. He is entirely free from those anxieties and cares which are constantly over-exciting and grinding away the mental organisation of the employer. His whole duty, in general, is something that can be performed by a slight exercise of one or two of the mental faculties. And when that is performed, he is quite at his ease. Thus far his case is well; the great misfortune of the class is, that their labours, however light, are protracted through too large a portion of the twenty-four hours. Labour appears to them an evil, because it is a complete abbreviation of liberty, and precludes a fair share of enjoyments. If the manual labourers were to take the opportunity of some period when wages are high, to begin a gradual abbreviation of the hours of labour-if they were at the same time trained to use the time thus redeemed, and all other time which could be spared, in recreative mental and bodily exercises, and those moral pleasures of which every man possesses an exhaustless fountain in his *So says Robert Burns A country fellow at his pleugh, own nature this large and important class would be found to have attained a right position, and labour would then appear to them in its proper character, as no evil, but, on the contrary, a means of preserving and creating happiness.* ASCENT OF MONT BLANC. MONT BLANC, as is generally known, is the highest peak of the Alps, and the loftiest ground in Europe, being 15,666 feet above the level of the sea. It is si Immediately after a narrow escape which he made in it, and in doing so the centre gave way, and fell into tuated in the duchy of Savoy, now a part of the king- Geneva and Turin, and rises immediately above the had been in some degree fatally realised, he was still snow. Speaking with precision, Mont Blanc is only the most eminent of a range of peaks springing from a vast extent of eminent ground on the south side of the valley of Chamounix. When the traveller enters the valley on the opposite side at an eminence called the Col de Balme, this range, coming at once into view, oppresses his imagination with a vastness unexpected even in that land of Alpine grandeur. While the vale below smiles with the most luxuriant vegetation, the sides of the hills are clothed, for a considerable way up, with dark and dense forests, and higher still, with the accumulated hoariness of centuries. Rather more than half way up the mountain, two sharp pinnacles of rock, called the Grand and Petit the first night of their journey, if not also during the Mulet usually affords shelter to the adventurers during second-for the ascent and descent together more fre quently require three than two days. When Auldjo and his party approached the Grand Mulet, they found fissure immediately below it. In front was a solid it nearly inaccessible, in consequence of a tremendous wall of ice of prodigious height, to which there was only one perilous approach by means of a promontory projecting from the side on which the party stood. Coutet cut steps in the wall with his hatchet, and thus enabled the party to climb over it. When Dr Barry came to the same place, Coutet had to cut and climb When Mr Auldjo ascended in August 1827, he spent his way for a considerable distance along the front of the whole morning in crossing the lower and vegetat- an equally terrific wall, and then to climb up to the ing portion of the mountain. On approaching the top, to which by means of ropes he pulled up the rest. glacier at the commencement of the upper and snowy After ascending the wall, Mr Auldjo's route lay for some distance along the top, which was very narrow, stage, he thought that it would be impossible to enter and inclined in each direction towards unfathomable upon it, "or at all events to proceed any great dis- gulfs. "Taking my steps," says he, "with the greattance along it, from the masses of ice which are piled est caution, I could not prevent myself from slipping; on one another, and the deep and wide fissures which as the space became wider I became less cautious, and which is about to be proceeded in. Here," says Mr and glided rapidly towards the lower one: I cried out, every moment intersect the path pointed out as that while looking over the edge into the upper crevice, feet slid from under me: I came down on my face, Auldjo, "the skill and knowledge of the guide is but the guides who held the ropes attached to me did shown: the quickness and ease with which he dis- not stop me, though they stood firm. I had got to covers a practicable part, is quite extraordinary; he the extent of the rope, my feet hanging over the lower leads the way over places where one would believe it crevice, one hand grasping firmly the pole, the other impossible for human foot to tread. We passed along afraid; a pretty time to be cool, hanging over an my hat. The guides called to me to be cool and not long been accumulating, and formed a most uneven the remains of innumerable avalanches, which had abyss, and in momentary expectation of falling into it! They made no attempt to pull me up for some and tiresome footway. An extended plain of snow moments, but then, desiring me to raise myself, they now presented itself, here and there covered with safety. The reason for this proceeding is obvious. drew in the rope until I was close to them and in masses of broken ice; sometimes a beautiful tower of Had they attempted, on the bad and uncertain footing that substance raised its blue form, and seemed to mock in which they stood, to check me at the first gliding, the lofty pointed rocks above it; sometimes an im- they might have lost their own balance, ard our dewith their batons, they were enabled to support me mense block, its perpendicular form broken into pin-selves firmly in the cut step, and securing themselves struction would have followed; but by fixing themwith certainty when the rope had gone its length. This also gave me time to recover, that I might assist them in placing myself out of danger." long and clear icicles, looked like some castle, on whose To attain the summit of a mountain so lofty as Mont Blanc, was long an object of ambition, both to the native peasantry and to men of science, before any one was so fortunate as to effect it. It was first tried in 1762, again in 1775, and on four other occasions down to 1786, without success. At length, in the year last mentioned (August 8), this difficult enterprise was accomplished by Dr Paccard, a native of Chamounix, innacles, now bearing a mass of snow, now supporting company with a guide named Balma. The mountain was ascended in the succeeding year by M. de Saussure, who gave to the learned world a very minute account of all the phenomena which he observed in the course of the expedition. Another attempt in the same year, one in 1791, a third in 1802, were the only successful attempts down to 1812, when a Hamburg gentleman named Rodatz gained the summit. From that time till 1827, seven successful attempts were made, besides one of the contrary description in 1820, which was cut short by the descent of an avalanche, and the loss of three of the guides. In August 1827, the ascent was performed by Mr John Auldjo, of Trinity College, Cambridge, who published an account of it, illustrated by maps and drawings. In 1830, Captain Wilbraham made a successful ascent, and in 1834 another was performed by Dr Martin Barry, who likewise gave my The place appropriated for the repose of the travellers during the night, is a ledge near the top of the In these lower parts of the mountain, the chief dan- batons against the rock, to form a kind of tent suffi Grand Mulet, where it is just possible, by laying the ger is from avalanches, which, however, are most apt cient to cover the party during their sleep. Dr Barry to fall in the afternoon, when the sun has operated in here found the air at forty of Fahrenheit, so that there loosening the huge masses of superincumbent ice. On was no suffering from cold. This gentleman, awakadvancing a little farther, Mr Auldjo found equaling at midnight, drew himself forth from the tent, danger in threading his way along and across the nuand beheld a scene of unexampled magnificence and merous fissures and crevices which are constantly to impressiveness. It was," says he, "a brilliant night. be found in the vast icy mantle of Mont Blanc, in conThe full moon had risen over the summit of the mounsequence of the slipping of portions of it to lower places along the declivity. Tied together in threes by a piece of rope, so as to diminish the chance of being precipitated into these openings, and after having sworn to 66 an account of his adventures and observations to the be faithful to each other in all dangers, Mr Auldjoin the wildest confusion, the colossal masses of ice we world. This last ascent was performed on the 17th of march."We were surrounded," says he, "by ice ous enterprise. Those who wish to ascend Mont Blanc have to provide themselves at Chamounix with a party of guides, six or eight in number, the necessary clothing and accoutrements, and provisions for three days. The guides at Chamounix are a remarkably intelligent, sagacious, and enterprising class of men. One named Coutet, who ascended with Dr Barry for the ninth time, has been spoken of by various travellers as a most spirited and in every respect estimable person. It is proper to mention that the rudimental ideas of this artiele were derived from the admired essay of Mr Combe "On the Constitution of Man." * * A large mass of ice now opposed our progress: we passed it by climbing up its glassy sides. It formed a bridge over a fissure of great width, which would have otherwise put an end to our expedition. towers, we arrived at the edge of another crevice, over After winding some time among chasms and enormous which we could see but one bridge, that not of ice, but of snow only, and so thin that it was deemed impossible to trust to it. A plan was resorted to, which enabled us to pass over in safety: our batons were placed on : tain, and shone resplendant on the glazed surface of its snowy covering. The guides were sleeping. Thus in the midnight hour, at an elevation of ten thousand feet, I stood-alone: my resting place a pinnacle of rock that towered darkly above the frozen wilderness above which it, isolated, rose. Below me lay piled, rowly escaped around and above was a sea of fair had been climbing, and whose dangers we had narbut treacherous snow, whose hidden perils we had yet to encounter. The Jura mountains, and many an unknown peak of Switzerland, seen dimly in the distance, gave me an earnest of the prospect from still more elevated regions. The vale of Chamounix was sleeping at the foot of the mountain; and, broken by the occasional thunder of an avalanche, the proest, sublimest of Nature's imagery reposing-now foundest silence reigned. It seemed the vastest, sternstarting as in a fitful dream-then sinking again into the stillest calm. It held me, until, at the end of an hour and a half, a recollection of the coming day's fatigues rendered it prudent again to take repose. Between the Grand Mulet, and the base of the summit expressly termed Mont Blanc, the way zig-zags along a vast ascending hollow, broken by three plains of ice, the last and largest of which is called the Grand Plateau. This part of the journey is also obstructed by fissures, and the debris of avalanches, vast masses, as formerly, being sometimes found serving as bridges across the openings. At one place, Mr Auldjo and his party crossed a vast chasm by a large and lofty block of ice which had stuck in it, and the side of which had to be cut by the hatchet to allow of places for the feet and hands, so that the party passed along as boys are sometimes observed to do on the outside of the parapet of a bridge, with nothing, in the event of their falling, to save them from destruction. At another place they came to a chasm crossed by a hollow or pendulous bridge of snow, and on this insecure place were induced to breakfast, on account of the shelter it afforded from the piercing wind which swept over the ice. "In one moment," says the traveller, "without a chance of escape, the fall of the bridge might have precipitated them into the gulf beneath. Yet no such idea ever entered the imagination of my thoughtless but brave guides, who sat at their meal singing and laughing, either unconscious or regardless of the danger of their present situation,” A little above the Grand Plateau, the traveller usually begins to feel intense thirst, and great dryness of the skin, while the reflection of the sun's rays from the glittering snow can only be endured by the use of green spectacles or a green veil. The ascent along the upper ridges to the top is extremely difficult, partly on account of the greater steepness, and partly owing to phenomena arising from natural circumstances. "We had now reached an elevation, where I had to verify the testimony of preceding travellers, by experiencing the exhaustion consequent on any slight exertion, in an atmosphere whose density is so exceedingly reduced. Only a few steps could now be taken at a time, and these became both fewer and slower. Two or three deep inspirations appeared sufficient at each pause to enable me to proceed; but on making the attempt I found the exhaustion returned as before. Slight faintness came on, so that I had at last to sit down for a few minutes: when, a little wine having been taken, one more effort was made, and at a quarter past two o'clock we stood on the highest summit." Such were the sensations of Dr Barry. Mr Auldjo seems to have been in a still more distressed condition. "I was exhausted; the weakness of my legs had become excessive; I was nearly choking from the dryness of my throat, and the difficulty of breathing; and my head was almost bursting with pain. My eyes were smarting with inflammation; the reflection from the snow nearly blinding me, at the same time burning and blistering my face." This gentleman desired to proceed no farther; but his guides generously resolved to drag him up, rather than permit him to be disappointed. * say that, Mont Blanc having now been ascended so frequently, it is to be wished that no more may incur the risk of death or severe personal injury for the sake of a triumph, which, however gratifying to self-esteem and other sentiments, involves no worthy object, and can redound neither to the advantage of individual adventurers, nor to that of the community. KING ROBERT'S BOWL, A FAMILY TRADITION. gentleman and his party had regained a particular ducement offered." In crossing the plateaux, Mr Auldjo and his party suffered greatly from burning heat, and also from the toilsomeness of the march, the snow being at this period of the day melted to such a degree as to take them up to the knees at every step. The precipitous intervals between the various plateaux were descended by sliding a method not without its perils, as an individual, in attempting it, is liable to overshoot his point, and glide into chasms from which he might never again ascend. As they proceeded, the materials of a thunderstorm gathered in the sky, and a thick sleet began to fall. Some time after passing the Grand Mulet, perplexed by the storm, they lost their way, and soon found themselves wandering amidst numberless crevices, where progress was not less difficult than dangerous. "The storm recommenced with greater violence than before; the hailstones, large and sharp, driven with force by the wind, inflicted great pain on the face; we were exposed to it, standing on a narrow ledge, overhanging an abyss. Here we awaited for a short time the return of two guides, sent to explore the crevices and banks around After a few minutes of rest on the summit, all the us, in an endeavour to discover the route of our asexhaustion, faintness, and indifference, had ceased: cent, but with very little hope of success; indeed, it the mountain-top was gained-the dangers of the de- was greatly feared that we should have to remain scent were not for a moment considered-and it was where we were for that night. The storm, increasing with a thrill of exultation, never felt before, that I every instant, compelled us to seek some place in the addressed myself to the contemplation of the prospect glacier in which we could obtain shelter; following around and beneath. The range of sight, though li- the footmarks of the guides who had gone forward, mited by mountain chains in various directions, com- we succeeded in finding a recess, formed by the proprehends nearly the whole of Sardinia [Savoy and jection of a part of the glacier over a narrow ledge in Piedmont], the western half of Switzerland, one-third the side of a crevice. We could form no idea of the of Lombardy, and an eighth of France. This immense depth of the chasm, but its width appeared to be about space is of an oval form; its longitudinal form extend-twenty feet, and its opposite side rose considerably ing from Mont Morran, in France, on the north-west, above us. Along this ledge we moved with great to the neighbourhood of Genoa on the south-east; care, and had just space to stand in a bending poshaving Berne and Milan on the one hand, Lyons and ture, and in a row. Wet through, and suffering exGrenoble on the other. In a north-west direction lie cruciating torture from the cold, our position was both the plains of France, in the south-east those of Lom- painful and dangerous. The tempest raged with the bardy and Piedmont: a mountainous tract containing most awful fury; the gusts of wind sweeping through all the Pennine and part of the Rhetian Alps, with the chasm with tremendous violence, the pelting the whole chain of Jura, forming the space between. showers of hail, accompanied by most vivid lightning, But there are directions in which the prospect is still and peals of thunder, alternating with a perfect calm, more extended; for example, the mountains of Tus- were enough to appal the bravest of the party. cany may be distinctly seen. All this was seen under a sky, literally without a cloud." De Saussure and Dr Barry kindled fires on the summit of Mont Blanc. The extreme rarity of the air, which rendered breathing so difficult, also rendered it no easy matter to kindle and keep alive the fire, oxygen being in both cases defective. Without the unceasing application of bellows, De Saussure found the charcoal expire every minute. The boiling point of water in this elevated situation was found by De Saussure to be 187 Fahrenheit, being, as we need scarcely remark, twenty-five degrees below the point at which it boils on ordinary The rarity of the air also diminishes the effects of sounds. A pistol fired makes no greater noise than a cracker usually does. This is partly owing to the effect of the rarity diminishing the tone and force of the vibration, and partly from the absence of all echo and repercussion from solid objects on that ele levels. vated summit. In consequence of the greater distance from the centre of attraction, bodies feel sensibly lighter on the top of Mont Blanc. To quote the words of Auldjo "The most peculiar sensation which all have felt who have gained this great height, arises from the awful stillness which reigns, almost unbroken even by the voice of those speaking to one another, for its feeble sound can hardly be heard. Nothing I ever beheld could exceed the singular and splendid appearance which the sun and sky presented. The blue colour of the one had increased to such a depth as to be almost black, while the sun's disc had become excessively small, and of a perfect and brilliant white. I also experienced the sensation of lightness of body, of which Captain Sherwill has given a description in the following words: 'It appeared as if I could have passed the blade of a knife under the sole of my shoes, or between them and the ice on which I stood."" It is proper to mention that Dr Barry accounts for the blackness of the sky, by the simultaneous reception by the eye of rays from the snow having lain down upon his back, and excluded all view of the snow, the natural hue was in a great measure restored. This last gentleman left the summit at half-past three o'clock, and spent the night on the Grand Mulet. Mr Auldjo began the descent at noon, with the view of getting back to Chamounix that night. When this the Urr, and there saw several warriors lying wounded and bleeding on the grass, and two knights, with their visors closed, and with swords in their hands, contending for death or life. They were both bold and stalwart men; but she in vain sought for a mark by which she might know the kindly Scot from the Southron. The fire sparked from their shields and helmets, and the grass was dropped here and there with blood. At length one received a stroke upon the helmet, which made him stagger. Uttering a deep imprecation, he sprang upon his equally powerful and more deliberate adversary, and the combat grew fiercer than ever. "Ah, thou false swearing southron!" exclaimed the wife of Mark Sprotte, "I know ye now-I know ye now ;" and seizing Sir Walter Selby by a single lock of his hair which escaped from his helmet, she pulled him backwards to the ground, when he had no alternative but to yield himself a prisoner. 66 The two knights washed their hands in the Urrand bloody hands they were uttered short soldierlike acknowledgments to their saints for having protected them, and, entering the cottage, seated themWe waited for some time in this situation, when, selves by the side of their humble hostess. in one of those moments of calm, we heard the loud said the Scottish knight, "have I not tasted for two Food," halloo of one of the exploring guides, who was returning to us, and called to us to advance, for they days, else Sir Walter Selby, renowned in arms as he had found the angle which we had so much difficulty is, had not resisted Robert de Bruce so long." “ And in climbing up the day before. We soon joined him have I then had the glory," said the Englishman, and his companion, who conducted us to it. Nearly" of exchanging blows with the noble leader of the deprived of the use of my limbs, from the excessive cold and wet state of my apparel, I could scarcely men of Scotland ?" "Leader of the men of Scotland!" walk; my fingers were nearly frozen, and my hands exclaimed Dame Sprotte; "he shall ne'er be less than so stiffened and senseless, that I could not hold my king in this house, and king too shall ye call him, baton, or keep myself from falling." It was in this sir, or else I will cast this boiling beverage, called brose, state that Mr Auldjo was brought to a wall of ice which in your English face, weel favour'd though it be." he had to descend for a certain way, in order to get King Robert smiled, and said, "My kind and loyal upon a point on the opposite side of the chasm. "Being incapable of making any exertion, I was lowered dame, waste not thy valuable food on our sworn down to the guides, who were already on the ledge enemy, but allow the poor king of unhappy Scotland beneath the wall. At the very moment I was rocking to taste of thy good cheer. And Sir Walter Selby, in the air, a flash of lightning penetrated into the abyss, and showed all the horrors of my situation; too, would gladly I see do honour to the humility of while the crash of the thunder seemed to tear the a Scottish breakfast-table. So, spoons to each, my glacier down upon me. I was drawn on to the neck heroine. I have still a golden Robertus in my pocket of ice, and set down until the other guides had de- for such a ready and effectual ally as thou art. And scended. The hearts of two or three failed, and they thou shalt also take thy seat beside me; this is not declared that we must all perish; the others, though the first time I have had the helping hand of a kindly conscious of our awfully dangerous position, endeavoured to raise the courage and keep up the spirits of Sprotte." The dame refused to be seated; said "it was the depressed. All suffered dreadfully from the cold, bad manners to sit beside a king, and such a king too but, with a solicitude for which I shall ever feel deeply-bless his merciful and noble face. Soon may he grateful, they still attended to me in the kindest man- enjoy his rightful inheritance, and long may he bruik ner. They desired me to stand up, and, forming a circle, in the centre of which I stood, closed round me. In a few minutes, the warmth of their bodies extended itself to mine, and I felt much relieved; they then took off their coats, covering me with them, and each in turn put my hands into his bosom, while another lay on my feet. In ten minutes I was in a state to proceed." At no late hour in the evening, Mr Auldjo returned to Chamounix, from which he had been only thirtyseven hours absent. He was met and congratulated by a great number of strangers and natives, who had felt an interest in his undertaking, and to all of whom he declared that the magnificence of what he had seen much more than compensated for the pain of what he had felt. If we might be allowed a remark, we would it !" So saying, she placed a small oaken table before him, filled a large wooden bowl, which is yet preserved by the family, with the favourite breakfast of Caledonia, rich, hot, and savoury; then laying a silver spoon beside it, she retired to such a distance from the king as awe and admiration might be supposed to measure to a peasant. "But, my fair and kind subject," said the king, let this gentle knight partake with me.” "I should be no true subject," answered she, "if I feasted our mortal foe. Were I a man, hemp to his hands, the keep of the Thrieve for his mansion, |