supplying good fowls for the table. Any one who would take in hand to supply poultry to the Edinburgh 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 High. land 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. sources. The Edinburgh market is likewise supplied from 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 DirecteurGeneral 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 While thus em 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 father 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 customhouse 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. 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 circum- aid which the place could afford, or the neighbour. stance, most humanely sent him a present of a fine hood supply. This benevolent offer was gratefully acham, in return for which Lasseure sent (by the help cepted; the young officer was conveyed to the manse, of 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 Carto 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, I 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 placed upon the house which had afforded him an asy. I offer to you my thanks, but I cannot; yet the wishes lum. This request was granted. And thus, by the that I do at London for your happiness are neither happy manoeuvring of young Carlyle, in a singular less ardent nor less sincere. If I am happy enough combination of circumstances, which at once gave to carry back my body in France, I shall extol that ample scope to the selfish and the benevolent affecliberality; but you shall permit me to leave to you tions, he perhaps saved his father's house from pillage, my heart, its gratitude, and the respectful affection with and a fellow-creature from untimely death. The young which I am, sir, your very humble servant, Lasseure, officer, in an evil hour, had been prevailed upon, with Rector of Ribourseaux, Burgundy." This letter was out the knowledge of his family, to join the rebels; shown to the Princess Elizabeth, on which lucky but during the time he lay an invalid in the manse of event the writer was taken from his humble garret, Prestonpans, he was so completely lectured out of his and introduced to plenty, and a first floor.-Edinburgh Jacobitism, that, on his recovery, instead of followMagazine, 1821. ing 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. LETTER OF A HUMBLE SCOTSWOMAN.-The fol- prentice, and who was prisoner with Robert Spittle, ANECDOTE OF DR CARLYLE.-At the time of the 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 Column for the Bops. MY DEAR LITTLE BOYS-There is a subject which I have for a long time thought of speaking to you about, worthy of your notice, which I now take an opportunity of alluding to. The subject is the use of slang words. You must understand that the English language which you are taught to read, write, and speak, is composed of certain words of a pure or correct nature, sufficient for expressing every variety of sentiment, and describing all kinds of objects. It is this body of correct words which forms the best dictionaries, and which all our good writers employ. But besides this body of pure words, there is a set of words and phrases having no place in the dictionaries of the English tongue, and which are used 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. The 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 instauces of the use of slang, but these are the exceptions, not the rule, and it is the rule we must 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 lan"You must give us money to guage they would say, 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 pickpockets, 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 escape the attention of youth. Suppose a companion were to speak to you in these words, "I would like if you would go and steal a penny from your mother," I believe you would at once refuse to commit so abominable an action. knows this, and so he attempts to undermine your The thievish bad companion virtuous resolutions, by insinuating in the first place what a delightful thing it would be to have a penny in sly slang terms that it would be very easy for you to spend on some pleasing gratification, and then hints to "nip up" such a trifle. Such is invariably the practice of those evil-disposed persons whom Solomon I therefore say, whenever you hear any one using words of an ambiguous or ing may be, and so prevent yourselves from falling slang nature, pause to think on what their real mean advises his son to avoid. into mischief. SCOTTISH COMIC SONGS, 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 sooner return to reason; for the deep and intense feel children, break out into occasional complaints, but will ing of the happiness of living, lies like a rose-coloured ground in his inmost heart, and shines softly through Tour of a German Prince. the darkest figures which fate can draw upon it. NOTICE RESPECTING "A HERO IN HUMBLE LIFE." 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 OUR readers will readily recollect an article in the 171st 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 Edinburgh 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. Ye'll no get brose, nor breid, nor cheese, Ower comfort's cozy cutchac becking; (11) Baith rich and puir will aft be seeking. What, think ye, is't links hands and hearts? It's siller aye that maks the marriage. Hale books I've wrote, baith prose and verse, But nae ane owned the puir baugh chield, My very nose as sharp's a filler; (1) Lad. (2) Ugly. (3) Threshold. (4) Withered. (5) Head. (6) Half a farthing. (7) Out of sorts. (8) Yawning. (9) Throat. disused barrel. (10) Ready to fall to pieces with drouth, like the staves of a long (11) To warm ourselves by the fireside of a house provided with every comfort. Another Lady residing in Stockbridge W. M., London J. E. W., London Messrs Orr and Smith, publishers, in conjunction with Messrs Bradbury and Evans, printers, of the London edition of Chambers's Journal "An Englishwoman," per letter dated East Anglia A Lady at Brighton G. D., Glasgow, Is.; a Lady, Glasgow, 1s. Mr Oliphant, 10, Inverleith Place, Edinburgh Mr Sidey, Perth A Lady L.1 0 0 200 100 500 5 0 0 1 0 0 500 To this sum we have added a tribute of our own, and the whole has been enclosed to Maxwell, but strictly as a testimony of admiration for his heroism-for in no other light can it be properly regarded. For the benefit of the hearts of our readers, we may here quote one or two of the kind and generous letters in which these tributes were enclosed : London, May 9, 1835. 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 fect, 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 ac. tion.-I am, Gentlemen, yours truly, W. M. Saturday, May 9, 1935. Messrs Chambers, 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 CONTENTMENT.-What has often and bitterly Liverpool; by whom, notwithstanding the enfeebled vexed me, is to hear people lament the wretless state of his body and broken health, he is (as how could of this life, and call the world a vale of sortsuch a man be otherwise?) esteemed as a valuable sernot enjoyment and well-being manifestly throughout the world the positive natural state of animated bevant. We cannot omit the opportunity of mentioning, ings? Is not suffering, evil, organic imperfection or that, as no addition to the tribute above stated could exdistortion, the negative shadow of this general bright.ceed the deserts of this excellent person, we shall be Is not creation a continual festival to the glad to take charge of any further sums with which the healthy eye, the contemplation of which, and of its public may be pleased to entrust us. splendour and beauty, fills the heart with, adoration 19, Waterloo Place, Edinburgh, 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 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 ness ? June 3, 1835. More minutely, his address is," M'Alpine's Land, Brown Street, Broomielaw, Glasgow.". LONDON: Published, with Termission of the Proprietors, by ORR & 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. BINGHAM, 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. DINBURGA CONDUCTED BY WILLIAM CHAMBERS, AUTHOR OF "THE BOOK OF SCOTLAND," &c., AND BY ROBERT CHAMBERS, 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, "Why, sir, it can't be done." We insisted, nevertheless, on our proposal being 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. 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." The habit of working after a particular fashion-the blinding effects of custom-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. We know, for instance, one unhappy gentleman, who declares, 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. SATURDAY, JULY 4, 1835. en some prospect of his being able to take a bolder position, where he may defend himself from contumely and injury: he shrinks from the very idea, and murmuring "It can't be done," resigns himself to what he has long been disposed to think "his fate." Tell the professional man, who, like certain animals, has taken one meal of knowledge and gone to sleep for ever, or any other sort of person who regularly opposes 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, or the monitorial system to education, and he instantly meets you with a blighting "It can't be done." Every thing great and useful has to go through an "It can't be done" stage, during which, in some instances, how many noble spirits are condemned to 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. "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 The generation of It can't be dones is also not uncommon in the army. For some time after the commencement of the Peninsular war, Lord Wellington 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 respectable 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. The commander-in-chief soon perceived that this worthy gentleman, with his constant "It can't be done," was quite unsuitable to the new mode 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 betrayed the slightest mark of either surprise at the na. ture of the command, or fear for its execution, but, with a simple assent, had gone promptly off to do what was required. This man he immediately elevated to the office in question, and it is said that no commander ever had a better assistant. On another occasion, some delay had taken place in the bringing of some boats with provisions up one of the Portuguese rivers, and a commissariat officer, who was responsible 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 -was stated. "Look you, sir," replied the commander, "if they are not brought up to-morrow at ten o'clock, you shall be broke." The boats were brought up. PRICE THREE HALFPENCE. expenses of transfer. It is on no other account that the cost of recovery of a debt, in many instances, far exceeds the sum which is sued for. Every body sees that all this is nonsense, except the men who are interested in supporting it, or who have had their understandings narrowed by long continuance in the antiquated practices; and, therefore, we have the sorry consolation of knowing that some hundreds of years may elapse before our posterity shall be more comfortable in this respect than ourselves. An exemplary instance of the impracticability of this order of men lately came under our observation. We mentioned to a gentleman in connection with the higher criminal courts, that it was certainly a most injurious practice to confine individuals accused of crimes for a period of three and four months previously to trial, making them associate together in the interval, and therefore either punishing them before they were proved to be guilty, or allowing them to contaminate each other by their society. "Oh, it cannot be otherwise," he replied; "they are tried as soon after the commission of the offence as possible; no better plan could be devised; the law is quite decisive on the subject." It was in vain we represented that the whole system should be altered-the courts sitting daily if necessary-both for the sake of the community and of individuals. He could not see the force of the argument. From having looked for years at a particular routine of procedure, he could not imagine the possibility of any thing better. The idea was too new to be comprehended. Any change must be for the worse. "It can't be done." Perhaps there is no class of men who are more under the benumbing influence of this miserable aphorism, than the professors of the law. The habit of yielding respect to precedent, and keeping up antiquated forms of phraseology as essential to the validity of what they 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 are deemed sacred from the touch; they must not, they cannot be altered. It is on this account that we 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 presumed intelligence of the nation. It is on no other account that pretty nearly an acre of writing is still required to convey a property not much greater in extent, and the price of which will barely pay the GEOGRAPHICAL DISTRIBUTION OF ANIMALS. NATURE-by which, as a phrase of convenience, we generally prefer denoting the great Creating and Disposing Power-has appointed very few forms of animal or vegetable life to be localised in any portion of the globe approaching to its entire terrestrial surface. The most of them are calculated for certain degrees of heat and cold, and, accordingly, are to be found distributed in rings or zones around the globe, or at certain altitudes on elevated grounds, with a direct reference in both cases to the temperature of the situation. Some minor circumstances are almost every where found to modify this general rule. The nature of the soil and surface; the different degrees of dryness and humidity, and the consequent character of the climate and vegetation; the comparative extent of land and water; the extent and continuity of forests, marshes, and sandy deserts; the direction of mountain ranges, the courses of rivers, the existence of waterfalls, and the form and position of lakes ;-these and several other circumstances will be found materially to affect the distribution of animal life over the surface of the earth. A country may be insular, and thus be deficient in some species abounding on the neighbouring shores; or in advancing from a wild to a cultivated state, it may lose various tribes appropriate 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, have for ages been extirpated. In some cases, animals are found to have been placed in situations, where alone of all others could they be properly sus tained: the elephant, for instance, exists only in climates where vegetation is very luxuriant, so as readily to afford it a sufficiency of food. Edinburgh Review, liii. 330. In some cases, animals are found to be placed in situations where their peculiar qualities may be highly useful and necessary to man: the camel, for instance, exists in sandy and desert countries, over which it is calculated, by the nature of its feet, and some extraordi. nary peculiarities of the digestive organs, to travel with large burdens, and where no other means of communication could be rendered available. The animals to be found over the greater part of the earth are generally those which are universally useful, such as the dog and the horse. Some others, apparently of a very unimportant kind, as the crow, and a certain common kind of butterfly, are nearly universal; and this, we would be inclined to say, is a kind of proof that there is a utility in such creatures which we are not able to trace. Many of the animals found at a certain latitude in Africa are not common to the same latitude, or any other, in Asia, and many of those in Asia are not found in Africa. Many, again, of those found in certain climates of the Old World, as it is called, are not found any where in America; which in its turn possesses many not found in Europe, Asia, and Africa. The lion exists in Asia and Africa, and was formerly a denizen of Europe also; the tiger exists in Asia alone: neither of these creatures is found in America, which, however, has an animal somewhat akin to the tiger, named the jaguar, which does not inhabit any part of the eastern hemisphere. America also has the condor, the Washington eagle, the llama, and other great birds and beasts of prey, peculiar to itself. In North America, naturalists reckon a hundred and eight quadrupeds, of which only twenty-one species, or fifteen distinct animals, are common to the elder continent-the sheep, the deer, the squirrel, the water. rat, the fieldmouse, the beaver, the weasel, the seal, the fox, the wolf, the otter, the glutton, the bear, the shrew, and the mole. In the department of birds, there is perhaps even a larger proportion peculiar to America. Many of those creatures which are confined to particular continents, or to still narrower spaces of the earth's surface, seem to have been so voluntarily, or through the influence of some inscrutable constraint, for there are many other and by no means distant places, where, as far as we can judge, they could have lived equally well, and to which they must have in many instances been accidentally or designedly transported, or to which they might have easily transported themselves, if they had been inclined. Whether all living creatures emanated from a cen-tral point, and thence found their way into distant lands, continental and insulated, or were diffusively created with a particular regard in each or in most cases for the character of particular soils and situations, is a question which, if it were proposed to be decided by facts, naturalists are not yet able to set at rest. Some of their speculations upon the subject are, nevertheless, exceedingly interesting. "A discovery ship," says the writer of the able and learned article in the Edinburgh Review, above quoted, "under the guidance of brave men, surmounts with dif. ficulty the terrors of the ocean, and after being months on the trackless main, and some thousand miles from any of the great continents of the earth, she arrives at last, and accidentally, at some hitherto unknown island of small dimensions, a mere speck in the vast world of waters by which it is surrounded. She probably finds the Lord of the Creation' there unknown; but though untrod by human footsteps, how busy is that lonely spot with all the other forms of active life! Even man himself is represented not unaptly by the sagacious and imitative monkeys, which eagerly employ so many vain expedients to drive from their shores what they no doubt regard as merely a stronger species of their race. Birds of gayest plume' stand fearlessly before the unsympathising naturalist, and at every step of the botanical collector, the most gorgeous but terflies are wafted from the blossoms of unknown flowers, and beautify the living air' with their many splendid hues. Yet how frail are such gaudy wings! and how vainly would they now serve as the means of transport from that solitary spot, where all the present generations have had their birth! In what man. ner, then, did they become its denizens, or by what means were they transported to a point almost imperceptible, in comparison with the immeasurable extent of the circumjacent ocean? An ingenious French writer, M. Bory de St Vin. cent, selects, as an illustration of his sentiments on this subject, Mascareigne, or the Isle of Bourbon, situated a hundred and fifty leagues from the nearest point of Madagascar, from which it might, on a casual survey, be supposed to have derived its plants and animals. This remarkable island does not contain a particle of earth or stone which has not been origin. ally submitted to the violent action of submarine vol. canic fire. All its characters indicate a much more recent origin than that of the ancient continent. It bears about it an aspect of youth and novelty which recalls what the poets have felt or feigned of a nascent world, and which is only observable in certain other islands, also admitted among the formations of later ages. Mascareigne was at first one of those soupiraux brulans' on the bosom of the ocean, similar to such as have since been seen to arise, almost in our own times, at Santorin and the Azores. Repeated irruptions of this submarine and fiery furnace, heap. ing up bed upon bed of burning lava, formed at last a mountain, or rocky island, which the shocks of Of some irriguous valley,' nor shed their refreshing influence over any possible 'Dark, sultry, dead, unmeasured; without herb, earthquakes rent in pieces, and on the heated surface | therefore, however in themselves fitted or ordained of which the rains of heaven, speedily transformed by their Creator to be the primitive inhabitants of into vapour, watered not Mascareigne, they are, by the very constitution of 'the flowery lap their nature, necessarily disenabled from acting as agents in the transmission of any species of plants. Lastly, man is not in the practice of planting lichens, mosses, and confervæ, among numerous other vegetable productions, none of which are cultivated, or in any way productive of the slightest benefit in the countries referred to. Man, who might have transported thither the stag or the goat, or certain insects which follow him wheresoever he goes, and in spite of himself, would not intentionally have introduced the mischievous apes, against which he now wages a fierce and unremitting war, nor those gigantic bats which hover through the evening air, and increase the obscurity of a short-lived twilight, nor the numerous and noxious reptiles which infest the fields and dwelling-places. Neither could he have transported the originals of all those splendid and innumerable insects, the 'gilded summer flies,' which commingle Now, by what means did a rich and beautiful verdure at last adorn it, and how have certain animals chosen for their peculiar abode an insulated spot, rendered by the nature of its origin uninhabitable for a long period after its first appearance, and during its pro.. gressive formation and increase? Winds, currents, birds, man himself one or all of these causes sufficed, it will be said, to bring about such signal changes. First, the winds, bearing up impetuously the winged seeds with which so many plants are furnished, transport them to far distant countries. Secondly, currents, subjected under the torrid zone to a regular and continuous course, carry along with them such fruits as they have swept from their native shores, and deposit them on remote or opposing coasts. Thirdly, birds which feed on seeds, disgorge or otherwise deposit them on desert lands during their migratory flights. Lastly, man, who has navigated the ocean for so many centuries, may, at some remote period, have coasted the shores of such an island as Mascareigne, and left there the animals by which it is now characterised. 'Their sports together in the solar beam, Or in the gloom of twilight hum their joy.' Nor could he have been in any manner accessory to the peopling of the lakes and pools with those peculiar species of fresh-water fish, cray-fish, and aquatic insects, which the scientific zeal of naturalists has there discovered. Finally, that monstrous and extraordinary bird, the dodo, indigenous to the island under consideration, and which so greatly astonished the early settlers, could not have been carried from any other quarter of the world, because it was neither known previously, nor has it ever since been seen or heard of elsewhere. It appears then inadmissible to suppose that all or any of these organised beings have been transported from the more ancient continents to the insulated positions which they now inhabit, either by the power of winds, the prevalence of currents, the agency of birds, or the influence of the human race. When, and by what means, then, may it be asked, were they there conveyed? This is the problem which many thoughtful inquirers have long sought, and probably will for ever seek, in vain to solve. Few of those animals which we find either in Mas careigne or in other islands, whether remote or contiguous, can be said to have derived their primitive stock from other regions, even if the means of transfer could be demonstrated or rendered probable; because, with the exception of a very limited number of species which we find elsewhere under similar climates, each archipelago presents species, or even genera, which are peculiar and proper to it alone; so that, if these peculiar forms of life came originally from a distant country, not only must they have been transported from their pristine abodes, by means which at present we can neither demonstrate nor imagine, but the ori col-ginal races, if any such remained in the mother coun try, must have been entirely extirpated. Now, as it is a matter of certainty that many of these islands are of more recent origin than the great continents of the earth, some recent speculators have argued from this the necessity of admitting the possibility of a comparatively modern creation of animal and vegetable life, whenever such a concurrence of favourable circumstances has taken place in any particular point of our planet, as determines the completion of those wondrous plans which an all-wise and ever-provident Ruler had seen fit previously to organise. The following considerations are adduced to show the insufficiency of these causes to produce the supposed results. 1. Winds effectively carry with them, to a great distance, the lighter seeds of a certain number of vegetables; but it is doubtful whether they carry them one hundred and fifty leagues, to deposit them precisely on a lonely point, almost imperceptible in comparison with the immeasurable extent of the circumjacent ocean. Vegetables with winged seeds, susceptible of being floated through the air, are by no means numerous, especially in the island under consideration, and to which, consequently, the winds could have carried but a small number, if any, of the now indigenous species. 2. The currents of the ocean, it is admitted, may transport some fruits and seeds, capable of floating, along with the miscellaneous debris which is continually in the course of being swept away from the shores. Of this the cocoas of Praslin, commonly called Maldivian cocoas, furnish a familiar example. But does it ever happen that these fruits or seeds, after being subjected to the action of saline currents, are found to germinate Salt water, if not utterly destructive, is at least highly injurious to the greater proportion of plants; and those unwearied botanists, whom the love of science has induced to brave the terrors of the ocean, know from fatal experience how hurtful the smallest sprinkling of sea-water proves to their botanical lections, both of plants and seeds. The only species which the waves of the sea are likely to obtain in good condition, are certain circumscribed tribes which grow along the shores, such as saltworts, thrifts, and a few cruciferæ. But these tribes are almost entirely unknown in the island of Mascareigne. The seeds of forest and other larger trees, from the interior of countries and the elevated sides of mountains, which are occasionally met with by the sea-shore, could only have been brought there by torrents, or other natural accidents, after a lengthened and alternate exposure to excessive humidity and extreme dryness, in consequence of which they would in all probability be deprived of their natural faculty of reproduction. Even the cocoas before alluded to, enveloped both by a thick impenetrable shell and a kind of fibrous wadding, when carried by the oceanic currents from their natal soil, and thrown upon the Indian shores, or those of the archipelagoes, are never found in such a condition as to admit of vegetation. The truth is, that these and other fruits are incapable of floating at all till after they are dead, and, consequently, can never be conveyed to a distance either by winds or waves, till such time as they have entirely lost the power of ger. mination. 3. It is not denied that certain frugiverous birds disseminate the germs of plants over the surface of those countries which they inhabit, and on the bark of trees where they repose; of which last mode the misseltoe, so frequent on apple-trees, is a familiar example; but it has been observed by ornithologists, that birds which feed on fruits and seeds are usually stationary, or at least of a much less migratory disposition than the insectivorous tribes, and more especially so in climates where the variations of the seasons never render necessary a change of place. There being nothing to attract them to a necessarily sterile rock, far removed on every side from those coasts which they might previously have inhabited, and entirely beyond the bounds of their accustomed flights, they cannot plausibly be considered as the means of transporting even that small number of seeds which are fitted by their peculiar structure to withstand the heat of the stomach, during the very short interval of time which is allowed to elapse before the utterly destructive process of digestion commences. On the other hand, birds of a more lofty and sustained flight, such as those which are habituated to seek their places of repose amid the insulated and sterile rocks of the ocean, derive their nourishment from fishes, molluscous animals, and other marine productions; and, It has been observed that, for the most part, those animals which are found in islands, or greatly insu. lated continents, rarely inhabit other countries; for example, the species of New Holland and of South America do not occur in any of the ancient conti nents; and this has been adduced as a proof that the surface of the earth, and the relative positions of sea and land, have undergone several signal changes since the period at which animals became generally distributed over that surface, according to those peculiar laws of geographical allotment by which the particular localities of species and genera are now established and maintained. As, however, a difference in respect to longitude is much less influential in the modification of climate, and the consequent production of a diversity of species, than an equal difference in respect to latitude, we find that the northern parts of North America exhibit a zoological aspect more allied to that of Norway, Lap. land, and some of the corresponding parallels of Asia, than to the southern parts of the New World. For example, the wolf, the rein-deer, and the elk, are common alike to the northern parts of either continent; but with the exception of one or two species, chiefly feline, such as the puma, the animals of North and South America do scarcely in any respect cor. respond. Under more southern parallels, however, where the masses of land are separated by greater extent of intervening ocean, such countries as lie under the same latitude present a difference in the character of their znological productions, apparently regulated in a great measure by their longitudinal distances. The equatorial regions of Asia, Africa, and America, possess no quadruped which is common to more than two of those regions; and were it not for the occurrence of the lion, the jackall, and one or two others, in each of the two first-named continents, it might be said that none of the three possessed a single mammiferous animal in common. Though New Holland produces a few birds which seem identical with the species of Europe, its quadrupeds differ, without exception, not only from those with which we are familiar in Europe, but from those with which we are acquainted in any other quarter of the globe. They belong almost entirely to that anomalous group, named pouched or marsupial animals, of which we have likewise examples (though both specifically and generically distinct) in one of the American tribes." We may observe, in conclusion, though at the risk of being accused of a love of hypothesis, that the absolutely necessary re-creation of the vegetable world after its last submersion, throwing aside all consideration of recently formed islands, leads analogically to the conclusion, that a similarly diffusive re-creation of animals might have taken place on the same occasion. matter." THE TWO KATES. [By the author of "The Buccaneer,” &c.] "I CANNOT help observing, Mr Seymour, that I think it exceedingly strange in you to interfere with the marriage of my daughter. Marry your sons, sir, as you please; but my daughter! that is quite another And Mrs Seymour, a stately sedate matron of the high-heeled and hoop school, drew herself up to her full height, which (without the heels) was five foot seven; and fanning herself with a huge green fan more rapidly than she had done for many months, looked askance upon her husband, a pale delicate man, who seemed in the last stage of a consumption. "A little time, Mary!" (good lack! could such a person as Mrs Seymour bear so sweet a name?) "a little time, Mary, and our sons may marry as they list for me; but I have yet to learn why you should have more control over our Kate than I. Before I quit this painful world, I should like the sweet child to be placed under a suitable protector." "You may well call her child, indeed; little more than sixteen. Forcing the troubles of the world upon her, so young. I have had my share of them, heaven knows, although I had nearly arrived at an age of discretion before I united my destiny to yours." "So you had, my dear; you were, I think, close upon forty!" "Think, Mr Seymour, if you had married a gadabout, who would have watched over my children ?" (she never by any chance said our children). "I have never been outside the doors (except to church) these four years! If you had married a termagant, how she would have flown at, and abused all your little did I say little? I might with truth say, your great peculiarities. I never interfere, never; I only notice for your own good-that habit, for instance, of always giving Kate sugar with her strawberries, and placing the tongs to the left instead of the right of the poker-it is very sad!" "My dear," Mr Seymour would interrupt, "what does it signify whether the tongs be to the right or left ?" "Bless me, dear sir, you need not fly out so; I was only saying that there are some women in the world who would make that a bone of contention. I never do, much as it annoys me-much as it leads the servants into careless habits-much as it and other things grieve and worry my health and spirits-I never complain! never. Some men are strangely insensible to their domestic blessings, and do not know how to value earth's greatest treasure-a good wife! But I am dumb; I am content to suffer, to melt away in tears-it is no matter." Then, after a pause to reeruit her breath and complainings, she would rush upon another grievance with the abominable whine of an aggrieved and much-injured person-a sort of mental and monotonous wailing, which, though nobody minded, annoyed every body within her sphere. Her husband was fast sinking into his grave; her sons had gone from Eton to Cambridge; and when they were at home, took good care to be continually out of earshot of their mother's lamentations-the servants changed places so continually, that the door was never twice opened by the same footman-and the only fixture at Seymour Hall, where servants and centuries, at one time, might be almost termed synonymous, was the old deaf housekeeper, who, luckily for herself, could not hear her mistress's voice. To whom, then, had Mrs Seymour to look forward, as the future source of her comforts?-i. e. of her tormenting; even her daughter Kate the bonny Kate-the merry Katethe thing of smiles and tears-who danced under the shadow of the old trees who sang with the birds who learned industry from the bees, and cheerfulness from the grasshopper-whose voice told in its rich full melody of young Joy and his laughing train-whose step was as light on the turf as the dew or the sun. beam-whose shadow was blessed as it passed the window of the poor and lowly cottager, heralding the coming of her who comforted her own soul by com. forting her fellow-creatures. Kate's father well knew that his days were num. bered; and he looked forward with no very pleasur. able feeling to his daughter's health and happiness being sacrificed at the shrine whereon he had offered up his own. Kate, it is true, as yet had nothing suffered: she managed to hear and laugh at her mother's repinings, without being rendered gloomy thereby, or giving offence to her mournful and discontented rent. She would, in her own natural and unsophisticated manner, lead her forth into the sunshine, sing her the gayest songs, read to her the most cheerful • Abridged from Friendship's Offering for 1835. pa. books, and gather for her the freshest flowers; and the truth was, she had started a fresh subject; her I must observe, that Kate's extreme want of resemblance to either her mournful mother or her pale and gentle father, was not more extraordinary than that Major Cavendish, as we have said the calm and dig. nified Major Cavendish at six-and-twenty-should evince so great an affection for the animated and girlish creature, whom, four years before his "declaration,' he had lectured to, and romped with but no, not romped-Major Cavendish was too dignified to romp, or to flirt either-what shall I call it then?-laughed? -yes, he certainly did laugh, generally after the most approved English fashion-his lips separated with a manifest desire to unite again as soon as possible, and his teeth, white and even, appeared to great advantage during the exertion. Nobody thought, that, though young and handsome, he would think of marriage, "he was so grave;" but on the same principle, I suppose, that the harsh and terrible thunder is the companion of the gay and brilliant lightning, majestic and sober husbands often most desire to have gay and laughing wives. Now, for the episode. Mrs Seymour had fretted herself to sleep, Mr Seymour had sunk into his afternoon nap, and Kate stole into her own particular room, to coax something like melody out of a Spanish guitar, the last gift of Major Cavendish. Kate Cavendish had accompanied her husband, during the short deceitful peace of Amiens, to Paris; and there the beautiful Mrs Cavendish was distinguished. as a wonder "si amiable"-"si gentille"-"si naïve" -"si mignone." The most accomplished of the French court could not be like her, for they had forgotten to be natural; and the novelty and diffidence of the beautiful Englishwoman rendered her an object of universal interest. Petted and fêted she certainly was, but not spoiled. She was not insensible to admiration, and yet it was evident to all that she preferred the affectionate attention of her husband to the homage of the whole world; nor was she ever happy but by his side. Suddenly the loud warwhoop echoed throughout Europe. Major Cavendish had only time to convey his beloved wife to her native country, when he was called upon to join his regiment. Kate Caven dish was no heroine. She loved her husband with so entire an affection-a love of so yielding, so relying a kind-she leaned her life, her hopes, her very soul, upon him, with so perfect a confidence, that to part from him was almost a moral death. Youth little knows what hearts can endure; they little think what they must of necessity go through in this work-a-day world; they are ill prepared for the trials and turmoils that await the golden as well as the humbler pageant of existence. Kate Cavendish returned to her mother's house; her very thoughts seemed steeped in sorrow; and it was happy for her that a new excitement to exertion occurred, when, about five months after her husband's departure, she became a mother. Despite Mrs Seymour's prognos tications, the baby lived and prospered; and by its papa's express command was called Kate. How full of the true and beautiful manifestations of maternal affection were the letters of Mrs Cavendish to her husband! Little Kate was so very like him her lip, her eye, her smile," and then, as years passed on, and Major Cavendish had gained a regi ment by his bravery, the young mother chronicled her child's wisdom, her wit, her voice the very tone of her voice was so like her father's her early love of study; and during the night watches, in the interval of his long and harassing marches, and his still more desperate engagements, Colonel Cavendish found happiness and consolation in the perusal of the outpourings second Kate could and did write those misshapen cha racters of affection, pot-hooks and hangers, wherein parents, but only parents, see the promise of perfection. Then came the fair round hand, so en bon-point, with its hair and broad strokes; then an epistle in French; and at last a letter in very neat text, bearing the stamp of authenticity in its diction, and realising the hopes so raised by his wife's declaration, that "their Kate was all her heart could desire, so like him in all things." The life of Colonel Cavendish continued for some years at full gallop; days and hours are com posed of the same number of seconds, whether passed in the solitude of a cottage or the excitement of a camp; yet how differently are they numbered! how very, very different is the retrospect! of his own Kate's heart and soul. In due time, his There she sat on a low ottoman, her profile thrown into full relief by the background, being a curtain of heavy crimson velvet that fell in well-defined folds from a golden arrow in the centre of the architrave, while summer drapery of white muslin shaded the other side her features hardly defined, yet exhibiting the tracery of beauty her lips rich, full, and separated, as ever and anon they gave forth a low melodious accompaniment to her thrilling chords. There she sat, practising like a very good girl, perfectly unconscious that Major Cavendish was standing outside and over again; and he would have listened much the window listening to his favourite airs played over longer, but suddenly she paused, and looking carefully round, drew from her bosom a small case, containing a little group of flowers painted on ivory, which he had given her, and which, poor fellow, he imagined she cared not for, because, I suppose, she did not exhibit it in public! How little does mighty and magnificent man know of the workings of a young girl's heart! Well, she looked at the flowers, and a smile, bright and beautiful, spread over her face, and a blush rose to her cheek, and suffused her brow and then it paled away, and her eyes filled with tears. What were her heart's imaginings, Cavendish could not say; but they had called forth a blush-a smile a tear-love's sweetest tokens; and forgetting his thrust the little case under the cushion of her otto-early beauty, with their daughter half-sitting halfconcealment, he was seated by her side, just as she Had Colonel Cavendish seen his wife, still in her vendish asked her to sing one of his favourite ballads! other older than each really was, he would not have man! How prettily that blush returned when Ca- kneeling by her side, the one looking younger, the the modest, half-coquettish, half-natural air, with believed it possible that the lovely and intelligent girl which she said, "I cannot sing, sir, I am so very could be indeed his child, the child of his young Kate. A series of most provoking, most distressing occur rences, had prevented his returning, even on leave, to England; he had been ordered, during a long and painful war, from place to place, and from country to country, until at last he almost began to despair of ever seeing home again. hoarse." “Indeed, Kate! you were not hoarse just now." "How do you know?" "I have been outside the window for more than half an hour." The blush deepened into crimson-bright glowing crimson-and her eye unconsciously rested on the spot far more than the usual repetition of sighs, and smiles, where her treasure was concealed; and after more, and protestations, and illustrations, little Kate did say, or perhaps (for there is ever great uncertainty in these matters) Cavendish said, "that, if papa or mamma had no objection she believed she thought she even hoped;" and so the matter terminated. And that very evening she sang to her lover his favourite songs; and her father that night blessed her with so deep, so heartfelt, so tearful a blessing, that little Kate Seymour saw the moon to bed before her eyes were dry. How heavily upon some do the shadows of life rest! Those who are born and sheltered on the sunny side of the wall know nothing of them. They live on sun. shine they wake i' the sunshine-nay, they even sleep in sunshine. Poor Mr Seymour, having gained his great object, married, in open defiance of his wife's judgment, his pretty Kate to her devoted Cavendish, laid his head upon his pillow one night about a month after, with the sound of his lady's complaining voice ringing its changes from bad to worse in his aching ears and awoke, before that night was past, in another world. Mrs Seymour had never professed the least possible degree of affection for her husband-she had never seemed to do so-never affected it until then. But land with widows, and caused multitudes of orphans At last, one of the desolating battles that filled Engto weep in our highways, sent agony to the heart of the patient and enduring Kate: the fatal return at the head of the column, "Colonel Cavendish missing," was enough; he had escaped so many perils, not merely victorious, but unhurt, that she had in her fondness believed he bore a charmed life; and were her patience, her watchings, her hopes, to be so re warded? was her child fatherless ? and was her heart desolate? Violent was indeed her grief, and fearful her distraction; but it had, like all violent emotion, its reaction; she hoped on, in the very teeth of her despair; she was sure he was not dead-how could he be dead? he that had so often escaped-could it be possible, that at the last he had fallen? Providence, she persisted, was too merciful to permit such a sor row to rest upon her and her innocent child; and she resolutely resolved not to put on mourning, or display any of the usual tokens of affection, although every one else believed him dead. One of the serjeants of his own regiment had seen him struck to the earth by a French sabre, and immediately after a troop of cavalry rode over the ground, thus leaving no hopes of his escape; the field of battle in that spot presented the next day a most lamentable spectacle: crushed were those so lately full of life, its hopes and expecta |