Page images
PDF
EPUB

and that the story of this son and mother is one of them. In recalling it to our imagination, we have driven out all our less sad impressions of Kensal Green Cemetery, and for its remainining objects of interest must refer our London readers to itself; merely reminding them, that the lateral path from Ducrow's mausoleum, leads to the uncovered grave of Hood, which to all appearance, echoes of the sleeping poet's song, we could remind his world-wide readers of all they owe to him; the visitors to Kensal Green would not long have to inquire his whereabout, but a gracious monument wrought with the images of his own sweet thoughts, would point out by the perfection of its beauty, the sacred spot where genius finds its rest.

shapely swords and clumsy shakos, on the graves of military men, with whom the trappings of their profession appear to be a favourite device, nor any want of disproportionate and awkward figures; but the exhibition of these faults will naturally work their amendment, and beauties equally displayed lead to emulation in overtaking them. In one corner, where a cluster of the dark and shining foliage of Portugal laurel throws its shade," Nobody owns!" How we wish, that in waking the and two willow trees wave mournfully their branchy trosses above a group of simple graves, we noticed a plain stone slab, with a wreath of roses sculptured in white marble, that looked as if just thrown down, round its two words of inscription, "To Bessie!" and close at hand, as if to show how nearly the artist copied nature, a square garden and monument, perfectly beautiful with white cluster roses. Not far from the burial place of Madame Soyer, the eye falls on the unshapely odd-looking monument of an old Indian resident, painted red; its intense capsicum colour, strongly contrasted by a snowy shroud of tangled clematis, which covers with a scented sheet of flowers the adjacent grave of a Don Custodio Castello. It is this mingling of floral beauty with the imagery of death, that makes these funeral demesnes so pleasant; how stark, and cold, and stony, and grotesque would this vast area of statuary appear, but that it has the green sward for the ground-work, and shading trees, and spots all rosy, or mosaicked with flowers, shining amidst and round its monumental marbles? That low white cross, with pendent wreaths of yellow amaranths (offerings of living love to the dust-in-dust beneath it), looks still purer, for its soft green leaves and scarlet clusters of the globe geranium, lifting its glowing petals at its feet.

We love those flowery shrines above the dead, wrapping them in a shroud of perfumed beauty, and exchanging charnel exhalations for the pure breath of life; and would rather choose a lowly grave we saw, covered with pink acacia, bright red roses, and the starry blossoms of the clematis, than be enclosed in a less simple tomb! We like not the cold grandeur of the mausoleums, nor the dreary conservatism of the catacombs, since, however long we put it off, "to this complexion we must come at last,"let the earth take her own! Where is the use of lengthening, like a troublesome creditor, the inevitable period of requital, and lapping ourselves in lead? The inmate of an elevated coffer, with its stone canopy, and supporting Mamelukes, sleeps not more secure from the crumbling fingers of decay than the lowliest pillowed in this solemn garden; so that it be "larded all with sweet flowers," and deep and undisturbed, the grave that soonest blends us with our primal mother seems in our eyes the most desirable.

But we are forgetting one, that above all others in this funeral field most interested us,-raised for the cenotaph of the son, it has become the monument of the mother, who died within a month after his death. Here there is neither sword or shako, casque or plume, or any other martial bravery; but the words,

"Ferozeshah, Sobraon !"

within a wreath beneath a draped urn pedestaled, speak much more forcibly the profession of the early dead, to whose memory it is set up. There is a legend attached, detailing the circumstances under which he died, and ending with the exclamation of the poet, "The paths of glory lead but to the grave." And yet, as has been been said of Trajan, as long as mankind shall continue to bestow more liberal applause on their destroyers than on their benefactors, the thirst for military glory will ever be the vice of the most exalted characters. There are hearts still beating that would bleed afresh, were we to unfold the history locked within this single cenotaph, or we might prove this paragraph too true; let it suffice that there are tragedies buried in the chronicles of churchyards and cemeteries, more solemn, startling, and profound, than those that pass before us on the proscenium;

SONNET.

When we compare the creeds that most prevail
To the immensity of Truth sublime,
Or measure human history with Time,
They seem but as an idle nursery tale
Told unto children-as the frequent trail

Of serpent error and red-footed crime
Are over all earth's records since its prime,
For Ignorance has clothed it as a veil.
But, centuries ago, a child was born,

And christen'd PRINTING-and its finger-ends
Have waxed so strong with every opening morn,
That, now in very mockery it rends
That veil to ribbons, till the light extends
Widely enough to laugh the dark to scorn.

HENRY FRANK LOTT.

GEOLOGICAL OUTLINES.

PART I.

GEOLOGY is derived from two Greek words-Ge (the earth), and logos (a discourse or treatise)-and is the science which treats upon the original conformation, chemical, atmospherical, and mechanical changes, and other subjects connected with the crust of the globe we inhabit, so far as we have at present the means of judging from scientific research, and the various theories founded thereon.

Geography, though derived from two words of almost the same signification, refers merely to the surface; while geology treats of the sectional properties of the

earth's crust.

There are no mines which penetrate deeper below the surface than 2,700 feet; nor are there any mountains which much exceed 30,000 feet in height, so that our knowledge of the interior crust of the globe would be very limited were it not for the wonderful effects of volcanic agency, which causes the mineral rocks to boil up, as it were, crack the stratified rocks which lie over them, sometimes turn them up on end (though more than 60,000 feet in thickness), and overflow the upper surface with lava.

The immense power which cracks and upheaves such a depth of stratified solid rock is so enormous as to bo almost inconceivable; and, probably, some of the most violent of these earthquakes happened at an era long antecedent to the creation of the human race. The effect, however, has been to turn it up on an edge just as a flag of stone or marble could be turned up from any part of a pavement, so that we are enabled to walk over and examine the sectional part of the earth's crust.

Amongst numerous wise purposes for which this immense force has been exerted by the agency of the benevolent Creator of the universe (many of which must be entirely concealed from our limited understandings), one

that appears to have been especially designed for the ad-
vantage of mankind, is the turning up of the coal and
mineral stratification, so as to be easily worked by the

miner.

Where would the manufacturing power of England be, where would civilization be found, if we had to go down 30,000 feet to find our coal, or 60,000 to find iron and the other metals? What mineralogical science could penetrate the earth or bring up material at such a depth? Turn back the crust again, and the world would, in a few centuries, be inhabited by a degenerate race of savages. One of the most delightful effects of the study of geology is, that the reasoning, founded upon the discoveries we make, is constantly leading us to the Great Creator of the world, who has provided for the comfort of his creatures ages before they existed.

There are two grand operations going on upon the crust of the earth: one clevating, the other degrading. The elevating cause, by the agency of fire, or volcanic heat, earthquakes, &c., is constantly heaving up, sometimes slowly and continually, sometimes with violence, and at greater intervals, immense masses of molten rock, which, breaking through the stratified rock, form mountains, when cool, of 30,000 feet in height.

The degrading causes, on the contrary, act precisely in the contrary direction, and by the agency of snow, frost, rain, springs, gas, atmospheric air, running streams, &c., tend to break up, and disintegrate the loftiest rock, convert it into a loose and friable soil, and gradually deposit it in the beds of valleys, or the bottoms of lakes and seas. The degrading causes, if not counteracted by the elevating or volcanic causes, would, in the course of time, bring the earth to a perfect level; that is, it would become an oblate spheroid, covered with water, and only inhabitable by fishes and marshy reptiles.

It is a curious fact, connected with the above remark, that in the older stratified series, we find none but the remains of such animals, and as they were not disrupted by volcanic force until after their stratification, it is more than probable that such was nearly the form of the earth at that time-a fact also further proved, by the immense production of gigantic vegetables, (which flourish only in a hot, humid, marshy country,) during the formation of the coal stratification.

All stratified rocks which contain fossil remains of fish or animals are called fossiliferous, or aqueous rocks, from the fact of their having been originally deposited under water by a very slow process, and afterwards consolidated by immense superincumbent oceanic pressure, and, with the exception of conglomerate rocks, in still

water.

It would have been impossible for the beautifully fragile fossil remains of shells, fern leaves, &c., to have remained perfect, and in true horizontal layers in the bed of a torrent, or in any but calm water; and they must have been deposited in this horizontal manner before they were upturned and set on edge by volcanic agency; there is no conceivable way of explaining how shells and fern leaves could be deposited in vertical or diagonal lines, and therefore it may be taken for granted that the dips and ruptures were caused by volcanic eruptions after they were deposited.

The disintegration of the older plutonic, or mineral rocks, is carried on much faster than might be generally imagined.

The following are some of the active agencies at work. All mineral rocks have a strong chemical affinity for the excess of carbonic acid and oxygen, which they attract in large quantities from the atmosphere, and which rapidly causes their decomposition. Carbonic acid appears to be given out again from the mineral springs, also from the lungs of men and animals; it is re-absorbed by vegetables, which give out oxygen in return, again rendering the air fit for breathing.

79

the older rocks, which gives them their different colours; It is the absorption of oxygen by the metallic bases of the same thing makes rusty iron a red colour.

1000 of atmospheric air; it varies however, being greater Carbonic acid is generally in the proportion of 1 to by night than by day, and in summer than in winter.

more particularly in the higher and colder regions, Frost is another powerful agent in splitting rock, and on the summits of mountains. Snow and rain are attracted in large quantities. Snow melts and freezes alternately; water when converted into ice, and falling into a crevice, increases one-tenth in bulk; acts like a powerful wedge, splits the rock open; more falls in, and again freezes and splits it wider-and so on, till immense masses, weighing perhaps millions of tons, are disrupted, and thunder down the precipices into the plains.

Landslips will sometimes occur to an enormous extent; of clay or sand which has been disrupted and lifted up we may easily imagine a stratified rock lying upon a bed as the clayey or marley stratification remains dry, it at an angle to the horizon by igneous agency. coheres together; but the action of rain, melted snow, or So long blind springs, percolating the strata gradually, softens it, and down slides the rock into the valley below.

zerland, from the above cause, which entirely filled the In 1806, a slide of rock occurred at Ruffbeg, in Switvalley below, and caused the destruction of upwards of 800 lives.

since, which overwhelmed several villages, and by which In a district of the Alps a landslip occurred many years upwards of three millions of cubical yards of rock were hurled down into the plain; equal to the sum of all the embankments of some of the largest lines of railway in England.

and snow, into crevices of rock, followed by frost, has The continual action of wind storms, driving hail, rain, also a considerable effect in the higher regions of the earth.

THE CLERGY OF CANTON.

temples, dedicated and consecrated to the three heathen In Canton, there are one hundred and twenty-three cius; to these various temples belong, about two thousand sects, namely, Taou, Buddh, and Ju-kea-su, or Confupriests, and one thousand nuns, who are maintained out of the funds appertaining to the several places of worship: the revenues of which arise from estates, and money bestowed by the Emperor, and wealthy individuals, for the maintenance of these temples of sin and vice. The priests former frequently seeking refuge in a temple, and beand nuns are a vile, dissolute, profligate, illiterate set, the coming priests to avoid paying the penalty of theft or sion, having no other means of livelihood, and from being murder; whilst others will embrace the priestly profestenance of temples, priests, and nuns in Canton, exceeds too lazy to work. The revenues, set aside for the main£108,335.-China and the Chinese.

SOOT AS A MANURE FOR POTATOES.

of the finest fields of potatoes that we have met with since We saw a few days ago, a few miles from this city, one the intelligent occupier of the farm that the manure used the rot appeared some years ago; and we are told by was soot, and that he has tried it both with early and late healthy. potatoes with great success, the crop being large and very local letter:-"As very contradictory rumours are afloat Since then we have met with the following as to the result of this year's potatoe crop, I should wish you to know that, as regards the few I grow, and of which the second crop has been gathered to-day, one root alone produced 87 potatoes, and the most of them good sized and perfectly sound, as all the rest of the crop were, some bearing 40, others 50, to each root. (Manured with soot.)"-Gloucester Chronicle.

[blocks in formation]

Speak gently to the aged one,

Grieve not the care-worn heart,
The sands of life are nearly run,
Let such in peace depart.

Speak gently, kindly to the poor-
Let no harsh tone be heard;
They have enough they must endure,
Without an unkind word!

Speak gently to the erring ones-
They must have toiled in vain ;
Perchance unkindness made them so,
Oh, win them back again.
Speak gently!-He who gave his life
To bend man's stubborn will,
When elements were fierce with strife
Said to them, "Peace, be still."
Speak gently!-'tis a little thing
Dropped in the heart's deep well;
The good, the joy that it may bring,
Eternity shall tell.

-From a Newspaper.

WASHINGTON.

Washington has no resemblance to Napoleon. He was not a despot. He founded the political liberty at the same time as the national independence of his country. He used war only as a means to peace. Raised to the supreme power without ambition, he descended from it without regret, as soon as the safety of his country permitted. He is the model for all democratic chiefs. Now you have only to examine his life, his soul, his acts, his thoughts, his words; you will not find a single mark of condescension, a single moment of indulgence, for the favourite ideas of democracy. He constantly struggledstruggled even to weariness and to sadness-against its exactions. No man was ever more profoundly imbued with the spirit of government, or with respect for authority. He never exceeded the rights of power, according to the laws of his country; but he confirmed and maintained them, in principle as well as in practice, as firmly, as loftily, as he could have done in an old monarchical or aristocratical state. He was one of those who knew that it is no more possible to govern from below in a republic than in a monarchy-in a democratic than in an aristocratic society.-Guizot.

A FACILITY of disposition, and delicacy of feeling, when exposed to a frequent contact with the ungenerous, is one of the most serious misfortunes that can befall humanity. A person of this class is obliged to endure a thousand affronts; and if, by any means, he is roused to resentment, he is called irritable-for no other reason, but because he is uniformly expected to be submissive.

DIAMOND DUST.

A MAN is valued as he makes himself valuable. WHEN all is done, human life is, at the greatest and the best, but like a froward child, that must be played with and humoured a little to keep it quiet till it falls asleep, and then the care is over.

THE flesh of animals which feed excursively, is allowed to have a higher flavour than that of those which are cooped up. May there not be the same difference between men who read as their taste prompts, and men who are confined in cells and colleges to stated tasks?

RICHES are but ciphers; it is the mind that makes the sum.

BETTER that the feet slip than the tongue.

EDUCATION has no creative power; it can merely unfold and direct the powers which nature confers. It cannot make a poet of a horse, nor a mathematician of an ape.

ROGUES in rags are kept in countenance by rogues in ruffles.

THE pillow is a silent sibyl-despise not its oracles. PEOPLE profoundly stupid, are entitled to our sincere respect. A moderately stupid person is insufferable, but one who is so in a colossal degree, becomes instantly an object of veneration.

CROSSES are ladders that lead up to Heaven.

FEELINGS are always made the excuse of temper; whereas temper much more frequently influences feelings.

BEWARE of hating men for their opinions, or of adopting their doctrines because you love and venerate their virtues.

FAME'S loudest blast upon the ear of Time leaves but a dying echo!

MODERATION is the silken string running through the pearl-chain of all virtues.

GRAVITY is the ballast of the soul, which keeps the mind steady.

THE foundation of content must spring up in a man's own mind; and he who has so little knowledge of human nature as to seek happiness by changing anything but his own disposition, will waste his life in fruitless efforts, and multiply the griefs which he purposes to remove.

TALENT without tact, is like a fiddle without a fiddlestick.

To read without reflecting, is like eating without digesting.

FLATTERY is like champagne, it soon gets into the head.

LOVE well understood, is wisdom.

ALL of us can carve out our own ways, and God can make our very contradictions harmonize with His solemn

ends.

THE subject which cannot be adorned, is seldom regarded; and the fidelity which challenges contradiction, sometimes drives away attention.

THE poetic is the unselfish and the loving.

THOSE who are most addicted to satirize others, dislike most to be made objects of satire themselves. WHEN one man has a little prejudice against another, suspicion is very busy in coining resemblances.

ONE to-day is worth two to-morrows.

Printed and Published for the Proprietor, by JOHN OWEN CLARKE, (of No. 9, Hemingford Terrace, East, in the Parish of St. Mary, Islington, in the County of Middlesex) at his Printing Office, No. 3, Raquet Court, Fleet Street, in the Parish of St Bride, in the City of London, Saturday, December 1, 1849.

[graphic][merged small]

IF

PRECOCITY.

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 8, 1849.

you were to ask twenty men to point out the peculiar wonder of this most wonderful age, it is more than probable that at least nineteen out of the twenty would indicate some one or other of the great efforts of mechanical skill, or of scientific invention, which are undoubtedly marvellous characteristics of our era. Some would turn your attention to that vast tubular bridge spanning the Menai Straits, a great iron monster genius of "progress," in the most literal sense of the word, and affording a high example of the daring enterprise and ingenuity of the men of the nineteenth century, casting into the shade, by a matter-of-fact production-a real tangible labour-the fabled wonders springing from the utmost workings of the wildest imagination among the romancists of bygone ages. Others would instance the conquest over that subtle element electricity, by which it is forced to run along the far-stretching wires, the humble errand-boy of its human masters. Others again would allude to our gigantic commerce, stretching itself like a vast giant of gain over the whole of the known world, and extending itself alike to the denizens of the most civilized countries, and the barbarous inhabitants of the islands and continents of the Southern Ocean, suiting all their varied tastes, and ministering to their myriad wants and necessities; at once exchanging the products of our labours with the inhabitants of the northern New World for the staff of life for our multitudes, and supplying the goods which the nefarious traders of the southern hemisphere of that same New World exchange for human beings in Africa. Others would speak of the vapour-winged barks, braving the wind and breasting tides and waves, the tracks of which are never absent from the rivers and oceans. And others again of those vast machines, with limbs of iron and sinews of steel, and heart of fire and breath of steam, which, as though in contempt of the puniness of humanity, go on unweariedly performing the work of thousands of men, in labours requiring the utmost force and the greatest delicacy and skill; now crushing a ponderous mass of iron, now dealing as tenderly as if with an infant's or a woman's hand, with threads almost as fine as gosI remember seeing somewhere an account of the varied powers of the elephant's trunk, which could either

samer.

[PRICE 1d.

uproot a tree or pick up a pin; but even that is obscured by that vast hammer in one of our dockyards, which, as we have all seen in the papers, can be swayed by a lender lever at the pleasure of its masters, to strike with a force of several tons, or crack the fragile shell of a nut without bruising the kernel. Such a union of force, precision, and gentleness is astounding. Truly the results of mechanical and scientific improvement are marvels out-heroding fiction, and prominent characteris. tics of our time; but if I were the twentieth man, without any desire to undervalue our powers and knowledge, without withholding my admiration of our commerce, at once barbarizing and civilizing different portions of the globe, I think that I should be tempted to point to something apparently infinitely more insignificant, but in my eyes as note-worthy and remarkable. I am quite prepared to see the human intellect expanding itself and growing up into colossal proportions, conquering the elements of nature, reversing in part the first curse by which man is doomed to toil; fetching from the mines dark gnomes of mineral and metal to force the winds to do its bidding, the waves to obey its behests, and the lightning to become its intelligencer. That I think the natural and inevitable destiny of man, and I almost cease to be surprised at his victories over his inanimate, unconscious, and involuntary agents; but I regard with great curiosity all changes in mental character, and in the habits and customs of people, and think them of at least equal importance; and if I were asked to point out what most astonished me, assuredly one of the things would be the precocity of the rising generation, which is really a most remarkable characteristic of the century.

It was once said of a certain man, "that he had never been a boy." That was meant to point him out ironically as a grand exception to the common race of mortals; but what was the exception then really seems to have become the rule now, and I am tempted to think that the race of boys is fast becoming utterly extinct, and being replaced by a race of mannikins, wanting alike in the grave power of maturity and the light-hearted wildness of childhood. I have seen upon the same apple-tree fruit unripe indeed, but full, and juicy, and promising luscious mouthfuls when the sun should have matured them; and close by a little, half-withered, prematurely-shrivelled thing, looking as if it had forgotten to grow last year, and was not thought worth gathering; and I could not help thinking

that that was to the other apples what mannikins are to real boys; and as I am fond of fruit, I only hope the apple-trees will not take to extensively imitating the vagaries of us mortals. Solemnly and seriously, I cannot help wondering sometimes whether those old fairy tales are true about the mischievous sprites changing human infants in their cradles for young elves of their own species, and thinking that the race, curtailed of their old dominions of forest and greenwood, and thicket copse and barren waste, and scorning the doctrines of Malthus, are compelled to find outlets for their superabundant and unemployed population, and are exchanging with earthly mothers and fathers on an extensive scale. The supposition is no doubt a most extravagant one, but how on earth else to account for the wonderful increase of mannikins I do not know; and, perhaps, when one is involved in a puzzle of doubt and perplexity, without a chance of lighting upon a reasonable solution, an unreasonable one is better than none at all. When I was a boy of thirteen or fourteen, I think I was a fair specimen of boys of my time and age. My father was an old soldier, settled down after a life of hardship and warfare, into a country gentleman of some standing and consideration in the village where we then lived, and moving in at least as good society as Mr. Smithson, a retired coal merchant I know at No. 4 in our Terrace; yet I do not know two more entirely different beings, than Master Smithson, now in his early teens, and what I was then. I looked, as I recollect, like a boy; there was no more of the man in me than there is of the full-blown flower in the bud; while Master Smithson is a perfect mannikin-a good specimen of his class; and if you were to look at him through a powerful magnifying glass, and imagine the whiskers, you might take him for an exquisite of the first water. My short jacket, corduroy trowsers, laced shoes, and open collar, are, in my mind's eye, in decided contrast with the superb apparel of the representative of more modern boys, who endues himself in a shiny satin stock, adorned with pins and chains, a frock coat of the smartest cut, and kerseymere trowsers of the finest texture, tightly strapped down over patent miniature Wellingtons, of the highest possible polish. In the forest on the borders of which our snug house stood, I used to roam at freedom, birds'-nesting, blackberry gathering, cricketing with the village boys, and bathing in the deep clear pools in its quietest nooks, my face all tan and freckles, and my hands sunburnt and scratched; or sometimes I would gallop for miles round on the rough shaggy forest pony, which was my especial property; while Master Smithson wears Paris kid gloves, uses cosmetics to improve his complexion, never indulges in rougher summer exercise than a quiet walk on the shady side of the way, when he is tired calls a "Hansom" with perfect composure and self-possession, has his hair cut and curled at the Burlington Arcade, and takes his bath at the Hummums. My father's old gold repeater, with an outer case almost large enough to fry a beefsteak, and its pendent bunch of seals, one bearing the family arms, used to seem to me the very ne plus ultra of watches, and was an object of my especial ambition; but young Smithson has a Parisian time-keeper, about the size of a halfcrown, with an enamelled case, on which is represented Venus and Adonis, and it is suspended round his neck by a massive gold chain, with a smaller one from which depends a dashing brequet seal, bearing the crest of the Smithsons-the said crest, by the way, having been fished up a year or two ago, at some expense, by the Herald King, and emblazoned conspicuously on both doors and the back of the family Brougham. Great as was the contrast between the outside of this young Englander and myself, it is scarcely so great as between the inner man or boy (I am rather puzzled which to say). I knew as much Latin as the village clergyman could get into me, was a tolerable arithmetician, knew something

of mathematics, had a good smattering of history, and was tolerably acquainted with geography; while our young friend Smithson could never compass an accurate knowledge of the rule of three, is far better acquainted with the Casino than with Euclid, and has about as much knowledge of latitude and longitude as a dancing bear. But then he extends his studies in another direction-he has progressed with the march of intellect-for, calling in upon the Smithsons the other morning, I found him in an embroidered Persian dressing-gown, reclining upon the sofa, and languidly perusing a translation of the last novel by the inexhaustible Alexandre Dumas. I well recollect, too, my reverence for my father, who, with his grave cheerfulness and stern old soldier-like discipline, I should almost as soon have thought of treating disrespectfully as of playing familiarly with Wombwell's largest lion. But Master Smithson calls his "guv'nor" (that's the word now), a stingy old fogy behind his back, and laughs at him often to his face.

The strongest contrast, perhaps, is in our behaviour to strangers; they used to treat me like a boy; ask me how I did; say I looked healthy and strong; and, perhaps, (as old General Johnson did the last time my father and I met him in London,) slip a half-sovereign into my hand, saying, they dared say I knew what to do with it. I used to thank them with a bow-answer their questions, and hold my tongue; but master Smithson remarks with great facility, that it is " a fine day," or "deuced hot," or " uncommonly wet," and thinks that he has as much, or it may be, more right to an independent share in the conversation as that "old fogy," Smithson the elder; and if the old General (who assuredly would not have offered money to so fine a gentleman) had put a piece of gold into his hand, I really believe the modern youngster would have had serious thoughts of calling him out. With women, too, I remember that, like most boys of that time, I was very shy. I used to blush up to the eyes on going into our quiet parlour, and unexpectedly finding some of the neighbouring ladies and their daughters chatting with my good mild mother; but young Smithson, bless you, offers to escort his mother's friends home, and gives his arm to a dowager or a demoiselle, with all the grace and gallartry of a courtier of Charles the Second. It is not only in boys of the Smithson class that this precocity obtains. No matter how many years ago, I used to think smoking a manly accomplishment (Master S. by-the-by puffs cigars at 32s. a pound, and takes an amber-tipped hookah at home), and I was in the habit of occasionally picking from old hay-stacks a sort of reed, and making myself disagreeably sick by smoking it; but now ragged boys of all ages indulge openly in short pipes; and it is not many weeks ago, walking in the environs of a country town, I actually met a cheesemonger's boy, of about twelve, aproned, and with his basket on his arm, smoking a pipe, with a meerschaum bowl almost the size of a half-pint pot, and a tube half as long as himself, and strutting along with all the composure and gravity of a German professor taking his morning's walk.

What a difference there is in girls, too, compared with what they used to be. I do not think they have changed quite so much as boys; in their hearts, perhaps, they are more as they were. But I cannot help comparing my own sisters with the modern misses I occasionally meet, and contrasting the broad-brimmed straw hats, short frocks, pinafores, and romping of the one, with the gauze bonnets, pelerines, beflounced dresses, and rainbow parasols of the latter. I verily believe if you had given my sisters, at ten years old, the finest sylphide parasol that ever was bought or sold in Regent Street, it would in a couple of hours have been converted into a machine to catch butterflies, or something of the sort, and smashed before the day was over; and thinking of this, I could not help laughing at some little ladies, whose conversa

« PreviousContinue »