CHAMBERS' EDINBURGH JOURNAL

 CONDUCTED BY WILLIAM AND ROBERT CHAMBERS, EDITORS OF 'CHAMBERS'S INFORMATION FOR THE PEOPLE, ' 'CHAMBERS'S EDUCATIONAL COURSE, ' &c. 

 No. 451. NEW SERIES. SATURDAY, AUGUST 21, 1852. PRICE 1-1/2_d. _

WHO SHALL RULE THE WAVES?

A contest of a very remarkable kind is now going on, one which ispregnant with important results in respect to commerce, to navalarchitecture, to geographical discovery, to colonisation, to thespread of intelligence, to the improvement of industrial art, and tothe balance of political power among nations. The nature of thiscontest cannot be better made intelligible than by giving the words ofa challenge recently put forth: 'The American Navigation Companychallenge the ship-builders of Great Britain to a ship-race, withcargo on board, from a port in England to a port in China and back. One ship to be entered by each party, and to be named within a week ofthe start. The ships to be modelled, commanded, and officered entirelyby citizens of the United States and Great Britain respectively; to beentitled to rank "A 1" either at the American offices or at Lloyd's. The stakes to be L. 10, 000, and satisfactorily secured by both parties;to be paid without regard to accidents, or to any exceptions; thewhole amount forfeited by either party not appearing. Judges to bemutually chosen. Reasonable time to be given after notice ofacceptance, to build the ships, if required, and also for dischargingand loading cargo in China. The challenged party may name the size ofthe ships--not under 800 nor over 1200 American register tons; theweight and measurement which may be carried each way; and theallowance for short weight or oversize. '

There is a boldness, a straightforwardness, an honesty in thischallenge, which cannot be mistaken. It is difficult to be interpretedin any other sense than that the challengers _mean_ what they say. Brother Jonathan has fairly thrown down the gauntlet to theBritishers, and it behoves the latter to take it up in a becomingspirit. Our ship-builders, especially on the Dee, the Clyde, the Wear, the Mersey, and the Thames, ought to feel that much is now expectedfrom them; for if once the Yankees obtain a reputation--a Europeanreputation it will then be--for outstripping British ships on thebroad seas, our ship-owners will assuredly feel the effects in acommercial sense. 

This question of the speed of ships is a very curious one. Empiricalrules, rather than scientific principles, have hitherto determined theforms which shall be given to ships. Smith adopts a certain formbecause Brown's ship sailed well, whereas Jones's differently shapedvessel was a bad sailer; although Smith, Brown, and Jones collectivelymay be little able to shew _why_ one of the vessels should sail betterthan the other. 

If opportunity should occur to the reader to visit a largeship-building establishment, such as those on any one of the fiverivers named above, he will see something like the following routineof operation going on:--

There is, first, the 'ship's draughtsman, ' whose duties are somewhatanalogous to those of the architect of a house, or the engineer of arailway, or the scientific cutter at a fashionable tailor's: he has toshape the materials out of which the structure is to be built up, orat least he has to shew others how it is to be done. When theship-builder has received an order, we will say, to construct a ship, and has ascertained for what route, and for what purpose, and of whatsize it is to be, he and his ship's draughtsman 'lay their headstogether' to devise such an arrangement of timbers as will meet therequirements of the case. Here it is that a _science_ of ship-buildingwould be valuable; the practical rules followed are deductions not somuch from general principles as from accumulated facts which arewaiting to be systematised; and until this process has been carriedfurther, ship-building will be an _art_, but not a _science_. Well, then; the draughtsman, gathering up all the crumbs of knowledgeobtainable from various quarters, puts his wisdom upon paper in theform of drawings and diagrams, to represent not only the dimensions ofthe vessel, but the sizes and shapes of the principal timbers whichare to form it, on the scale, perhaps, of a quarter of an inch to afoot. Then this very responsible personage goes to his 'mould-loft, 'on the wide-spreading floor of which he chalks such a labyrinth oflines as bewilder one even to look at. These lines represent theactual sizes and shapes of the different parts of the ship, withcurvatures and taperings of singularly varied character. One floor ofone room thus contains full-sized contours of all the timbers for theship. 

So far, then, the draughtsman. Next, under his supervision, thinplanks of deal are cut to the contours of all these chalk-lines; andthese thin pieces, called _moulds_, are intended to guide the sawyersin cutting the timbers for the ship. A large East Indiaman requiresmore than a hundred mould-pieces, chalked and marked in everydirection. 

Another skilful personage, called the 'converter, ' then makes a tourof the timber-yard, and looks about for all the odd, crooked, crabbedtrunks of oak and elm which he can find; well knowing that if thenatural curvature of a tree accords somewhat with the requiredcurvature of a ship's timber, the timber will be stronger than if cutfrom a straight trunk. He has the mould-pieces for a guide, andsearches until he has ferreted out all the timbers wanted. Then hesets the sawyers to work, who, with the mould-pieces always at hand, shape the large trunks to the required form. And here it may be notedas a remarkable fact, that although we live in such a steam-engine andmachine-working age, very few engines or machines afford aid in sawingships' timbers. The truth seems to be, that the curvatures are sonumerous and varied, that machine-sawing would scarcely be applicable. Yet attempts are from time to time made to construct such machines. MrCochran has invented one; and it is said that at the Earl of Rosse'sfirst soirée as president of the Royal Society, a model of thistimber-cutting machine was exhibited; that Prince Albert cut aminiature timber with it; and that he thus began an apprenticeship tothe national art of ship-building. 

Leaving the supposed visitor to a ship-yard to trace the timbersthrough all their stages of progress, we will proceed with that whichis more directly the object of the present paper--namely, the relationof _speed_ to _build_. Some sixteen or eighteen years ago, the BritishAssociation rightly conceived that its Mechanical Section would beworthily occupied in an inquiry concerning the forms of ships, and theeffect of form on the speed and steadiness. The inquiry was intrustedto Mr Scott Russell and Mr (afterwards Sir John) Robison; andadmirably has it been carried out. Mr Scott Russell, especially, hassought to establish something like a _science_ of form inship-building--precisely the thing which would supply a proper basisfor the artificers. 

It is interesting to see how, year after year, this committee of twopersons narrated the result of their unbought and unpaid labours tothe Association. In 1838 and 1839, they shewed how a solid moving inthe water produced a particular kind of wave; how, at a certainvelocity, the solid might ride on the _top_ of the wave, withoutsinking into the hollow; how, if the external form of a vessel bore acertain resemblance to a section of this wave, the ship wouldencounter less resistance in the water than any other form; and thusoriginated the _wave principle_--so much talked of in connection withship-building. A ship built on that principle in that year (1839) wasbelieved to be the fastest ship in Britain. In 1840, the committeestated that they had 'consulted the most eminent ship-builders as tothe points upon which they most wanted information, and requested themto point out what were the forms of vessel which they would wish tohave tried. More than 100 models of vessels of various sizes, from 30inches to 25 feet in length, were constructed, ' and an immense mass ofexperiments were made on them. In 1841, they described how they hadexperimented on vessels of every size, from models of 30 inches inlength to vessels of 1300 tons. In the next following year, thecommittee presented a report of no fewer than 20, 000 experiments onmodels and ships, some of which afforded remarkable confirmation ofthe efficiency of the wave principle in ship-building. Thus thecommittee went on, year after year, detailing to the Association theresults of their experiments, and pointing out how the ship-builderswere by degrees giving practical value to these results. 

Now, a country in which a scientific society will spend a thousandpounds on such an inquiry, and in which scientific men will give updays and weeks of their time to it without fee or reward, _ought_ notto be beaten on the broad seas by any competitor. It affords aninstructive confirmation of the results arrived at by the committee, that when some of our swiftest yachts and clippers came to becarefully examined, it was found that the wave principle had been to agreat extent adopted in their form, in cases even where the vesselswere built before the labours of the committee had commenced. The_art_ had in this case preceded the _science_. And let it not beconsidered that any absurdity is involved here: farmers manured theirfields long before chemists were able to explain the real nature ofmanuring; and so in other arts, ingenious practical men often discoveruseful processes before the men of science can give the rationale ofthose processes. 

It may be all very well to assert, that 'Britannia rules the waves, 'and that 'Britons never will be slaves, ' and so forth; only let usprove the assertions to be _true_, or not assert at all. We mustappeal to the 'Shipping Intelligence' which comes to hand from everyside, and determine, from actual facts, whether any one country reallyoutsails another. 

Among the facts which thus present themselves to notice, is onerelating to _clippers_. Who first gave the name of clipper to a ship, or what the name means, we do not know; but a clipper is understood tobe a vessel so shaped as to sail faster than other vessels of equaltonnage. It is said that these swift sailers originated in the wantsof the salmon shippers, and others at our eastern ports. A bulky, slow-moving ship may suffice for the conveyance to London of theminerals and manufactures of Northumberland and Durham; but salmon andother perishable articles become seriously deteriorated by a longvoyage; and hence it is profitable in such case to sacrifice bulk tospeed. Leith, Dundee, and especially Aberdeen, are distinguished forthe speed of their vessels above those of the Tyne and the Wear; andthe above facts probably explain the cause of the difference. TheAberdeen clipper is narrow, very keen and penetrating in front, gracefully tapering at the stern, and altogether calculated to 'goahead' through the water in rapid style. As compared with one of theordinary old-fashioned English coasting brigs of equal tonnage, anAberdeen clipper will attain nearly double the speed. One of thesefine vessels, the _Chrysolite_, in a recent voyage from China, traversed 320 nautical miles (nearly 370 English statute miles) intwenty-four hours: this was a great performance. But it must not beforgotten, that the United States claim to have attained a highship-speed before England had thought much on the matter; theBaltimore clippers have long been known on the other side of theAtlantic as dashing, rapid, little vessels, mostly either single ordouble-masted. 

It is to the opening of the China trade the present wonderful rivalrymay in great part be attributed. So long as European vessels werecooped up stagnantly in Canton river, and allowed to trade only undercircumstances of great restriction and annoyance, little was effectedexcept by the tea-drinking denizens of Great Britain; but when, by thetreaty of Nankin in 1842, Sir Henry Pottinger obtained the opening ofthe four ports of Amoy, Foo-tchow-foo, Ning-po, and Shang-hae, andstipulated that foreign vessels should be allowed to share with thoseof England the liberty of trading at those ports, there was a greatimpetus given to ship-builders and ship-owners: those who had goods tosell, thus found a new market for them; and those who could performthe voyage most quickly, would have a quicker return for theircapital. This, following at an interval of seven or eight years thechanges made in the India trade by the East India Company's charter of1834, brought the Americans and the French and others into the Indianseas in great numbers. Then came the wonders of 1847, in the discoveryof Californian gold; and those of 1851, in the similar discoveries inAustralia. 

Now, these four dates--1834, 1842, 1847, 1851--may be considered asfour starting-points, each marked by a renewed conquest of man overthe waves, and a strengthened but not hostile rivalry on the seasbetween nation and nation. So many inducements are now afforded tomerchants to transact their dealings rapidly, that the ship-buildersare beset on all sides with demands for more speed--more speed; and itis significant to observe that, in almost every recent newspaperaccount of a ship-launch, we are told how many knots an hour she isexpected to attain when fitted. Every ship seems to beat every othership, in the glowing language employed; but after making a littleallowance for local vanity, there is a substratum of correctness whichshews strongly how we are advancing in rate of speed. 

It will really now become useful to collect and preserve records ofspeed at sea, in connection with particular ships of particular build, as a guide to future construction. Mr Henry Wise published a volumeabout 1840, containing an analysis of one hundred voyages, made byships belonging to the East India Company, extracted from the ships'logs preserved by the Company. It appears that an average gave 112days as the duration of a voyage from London to Bombay. Now, withinthe last few months we have seen that the _Chrysolite_, a smallclipper, built at Aberdeen for a Liverpool firm, has made the run fromEngland to China in 104 days; and the _Stornoway_, built at the sameplace for a London firm, has accomplished the distance in 103 days. Let the reader open his map, and compare the relative distances ofBombay and China from England, and he will then see what a wonderfulincrease of speed is implied in the above numbers. Three Americanclippers were sighted during the out and home voyages of the twovessels, and, if newspaper reports tell truly, were distanced by them. 

We must not expect that the vast and unprecedented emigration toCalifornia and Australia now going on, will be designedly andmaterially connected with high speed, because most of the emigrants goin roomy ships, at fares as low as are attainable; but goods-traffic, and the higher class of passenger-traffic, are every month coming moreand more within the domain of high speed. Let us take two instanceswhich 1852 has afforded, one furnished by England, and one byAmerica--one connected with the Australian trade, and one with theChinese. The Aberdeen clipper-built barque, _Phoenician_, arrived atPlymouth on February 3, having left Sydney on November 12, andperformed the voyage in 83 days! Her previous voyages had varied from88 to 103 days. The other instance is that of the American clipper, _Witch of the Wave_, a fine vessel of 1400 tons burden, which leftCanton on 5th January, and arrived in the Downs on 4th April, a periodof 90 days. Her greatest speed is said to have been 338 nauticalmiles--equivalent to about 389 English miles--in 24 hours. 

Thus it is, we find, that in one voyage we beat the Americans--inanother, they outstrip us; and there seems at present no reason whyeither country should fail in making still further advances. TheLiverpool and New York packet-trade affords another example of thesame principle which we have been considering; gradually these trulynoble vessels are acquiring an increased rate of speed. Not only doesthe general desire for high speed impel their owners to this, butthere is a more direct incentive in the increased rivalry ofsteam-vessels. The American 'liners, ' as the sailing-packets on thisroute are usually called, have had in past years an average of about36 days outward passage, and 24 days homeward; but they are nowshooting ahead unmistakably. The _Racer_, built at New York in 1851, and placed upon the Liverpool station, is a magnificent clipper of1700 tons register; it made its first voyage from New York toLiverpool in 14 days--a quickness not only exceeding that of itspredecessors, but leaving nearly all of them many days in arrear. Eventhis, however, was shortly afterwards excelled; for another newclipper, the _Washington_, accomplished the distance in a little over13-1/2 days. 

The pleasure-vessels which are so numerous in the south of England, belonging to the several yacht-clubs, are sharing in the modernspeed-producing improvements observable in other vessels. Every onehas heard of the yacht _America_, which arrived at Cowes from theUnited States in July 1851, and of the challenge which her ownersthrew out against English yacht-owners. Every one knows that the_America_ beat the yachts which were fitted against her. This victoryhas led to an immense activity on the part of yacht-builders inEngland; they are studying all the peculiarities in the build and thetrim of the yachts belonging to the different ports and differentcountries; and we are justified by every analogy in expecting, thatgood results will spring out of wits thus sharpened. 

Although we have not deemed it necessary in the present paper to touchon the national struggle between steam-ships, we must not forget thatone of the most promising and valuable features in steam navigationarose as an appendage to sailing. The _auxiliary screw_ will deservethe blessings of our colonists, for reasons which may be soon told. When it was yet uncertain what result would mark the contest _Screw_v. _Paddle_, it was suggested that the screw-propeller might probablybe used as an auxiliary power, for occasional use during calms andcontrary winds; the vessel to be a sailing-vessel under ordinarycircumstances; but to have a marine engine and a screw for exigenciesat times when the ship would be brought to a stand-still or evendriven backwards. About seven years ago, an American packet-ship, the_Massachusetts_, a complete sailing-vessel in other respects, wasprovided with a screw and a steam-engine powerful enough to keep theship moving when winds and tides were adverse; the screw was capableof being lifted out of the water when not in use. In her first voyagefrom Liverpool to America, this ship gained from five to thirteen daysas compared with five other ships which sailed either on the same orthe following day. This experiment was deemed so far successful, thatthe Admiralty ordered, in 1846, an auxiliary screw to be fitted to the_Amphion_ frigate, then building at Woolwich. Another example was the_Sarah Sands_, an iron ship of 1300 tons; she had engines of 180horse-power, much below that requisite for an ordinary steamer of thesame size. She could carry three classes of passengers, coal for thewhole voyage, and 900 tons of merchandise. She made four voyages in1847, two out and two home; and in 1848 she made five: her averagetime was about nineteen days out, and seventeen days home, and sheusually passed about six liners on the voyage. 

The speed here mentioned is not quite equal to that of the trulyremarkable clippers noticed above, but it far exceeded that of anyliner at work in 1848. The example was followed in other vessels; andthen men began to cherish the vision of a propeller screwing its waythrough the broad ocean to our distant colonies. From this humblebeginning as an auxiliary, the screw has obtained a place of more andmore dignity, until at length we see the mails for the Cape and forAustralia intrusted confidently to its safe-keeping. 

The icy regions of the north are braved by the auxiliary screw. Thelittle _Isabel_, fitted out almost entirely at the expense of LadyFranklin to aid in the search for her gallant husband, is a brigantineof 180 tons, with an auxiliary screw to ship and unship. The_Intrepid_ and the _Pioneer_, the two screw-steamers which form partof Sir Edward Belcher's arctic expedition--lately started fromEngland--are to work with or without their auxiliary appendage ascircumstances may determine. 

The present article, however, will shew that sailing is not less aliveand busy than steaming; and that the yachts and clippers of bothnations are probably destined to a continuous series of improvements. When these improvements--whether by aid of scientific societies andlaborious experiments, or by the watchful eye and the shrewdintelligence of ship-builders, or by both combined--have advancedsteadily to a point perhaps far beyond that which we have yetattained, then, if at all, may we trouble ourselves about thequestion--'Who shall rule the waves?'

NUMBER NINETEEN IN OUR STREET. 

Number Nineteen in our street is a gloomy house, with a blistered doorand a cavernous step; with a hungry area and a desolate frontage. Thewindows are like prison-slips, only a trifle darker, and a good dealdirtier; and the kitchen-offices might stand proxies for the BlackHole of Calcutta, barring the company and the warmth. For as tocompany, black beetles, mice, and red ants, are all that are ever seenof animated nature there, and the thermometer rarely stands abovefreezing-point. Number Nineteen is a lodging-house, kept by a poor oldmaid, whose only friend is her cat, and whose only heirs will be theparish. With the outward world, excepting such as slowly filterthrough the rusty opening of the blistered door, Miss Rebecca Sponghas long ceased to have dealings. She hangs a certain piece ofcardboard, with 'Lodgings to Let, ' printed in school-girl print, unconscious of straight lines, across it; and this act of publicnotification, coupled with anxious peepings over the blinds of theparlour front, is all the intercourse which she and the world of menhold together. Every now and then, indeed, a mangy cab may be seendriving up to her worn-out step; and dingy individuals, of the kindwho travel about with small square boxes, covered with marbled paper, and secured with knotted cords of different sizes, may be witnessedtaking possession of Nineteen, in a melancholy and mysterious way. Buteven these visitations, unsatisfactory as most lodging-house keeperswould consider them, are few and far between; for somehow the peoplewho come and go never seem to have any friends or relations wherebyMiss Spong may improve her 'connection. ' You never see the postmanstop at that desolate door; you never hear a visitor's knock on thatrusty lion's head; no unnecessary traffic of social life ever takesplace behind those dusty blinds; it might be the home of a selectparty of Trappists, or the favourite hiding-place of coiners, for allthe sunshine of external humanity that is suffered to enter thoseinterior recesses. If a murder had been committed in every room, fromthe attics to the cellar, a heavier spell of solitude and desolationcould not rest on its floors. 

One dreary afternoon in November, a cab stopped at Number Nineteen. Itwas a railway cab, less worn and ghastly than those vehicles ingeneral, but not bringing much evidence of gaiety or wealth for allthat. Its inmates were a widow and a boy of about fifteen; and all thepossessions they had with them were contained in one trunk of verymoderate dimensions, a cage with a canary bird twittering inside, somepots of flowers, and a little white rabbit, one of the comical'lop-eared' kind. There was something very touching in these evidencesof the fresh country life which they had left for the dull atmosphereand steaming fogs of the metropolis. They told a sad tale of oldassociations broken, and old loves forsworn; of days of comfort andprosperity exchanged for the dreariness of poverty; and freedom, love, and happiness, all snapped asunder for the leaden chain of sufferingto be forged instead. One could not help thinking of all those twohapless people must have gone through before they could have summonedcourage to leave their own dear village, where they had lived so manyyears in that local honourableness of the clergyman's family; throwingthemselves out of the society which knew and loved them, that theymight enter a harsh world, where they must make their own position, and earn their own living, unaided by sympathy, honour, or affection. They looked as if they themselves thought something of this too, whenthey took possession of the desolate second floor; and the widow satdown near her son, and taking his hand in hers, gave vent to a floodof tears, which ended by unmanning the boy as well. And then they shutup the window carefully, and nothing more was seen of them that night. 

Mrs Lawson, the widow, was a mild, lady-like person, whose face borethe marks of recent affliction, and whose whole appearance and mannerswere those of a loving, gentle, unenergetic, and helpless woman, whomsorrow could well crush beyond all power of resistance. The boy was atall, thin youth, with a hectic flush and a hollow cough, eyes brightand restless, and as manifestly nervous as his mother was the reversein temperament--anxious and restless, and continually taxing hisstrength beyond its power, making himself seriously ill in hisendeavours to save his beloved mother some small trouble. They seemedto be very tenderly attached one to the other, and to supply to eachall that was wanting in each: the mother's gentleness soothing downher boy's excitability, and the boy's nervousness rousing the motherto exertion. They were interesting people--so lonely, apparently sounfit to 'rough it' in the world; the mother so gentle in temper, andthe son so frail in constitution--two people who ought to have beenprotected from all ill and all cares, yet who had such a bitter cup toempty, such a harsh fate to fulfil. 

They were very poor. The mother used to go out with a small basket onher arm, which could hold but scanty supplies for two full-grownpeople. Yet this was the only store they had; for no baker, nobutcher, no milkman, grocer, or poulterer, ever stopped at the areagate of Miss Rebecca Spong; no purveyor of higher grade than acat's-meat-man was ever seen to hand provisions into the depths ofNumber Nineteen's darkness. The old maid herself was poor; and she, too, used to do her marketing on the basket principle; carrying home, generally at night, odd scraps from the open stalls in TottenhamCourt-Road, which she had picked up as bargains; and dividing equallybetween herself and her fagged servant-of-all-work the wretched mealwhich would not have been too ample for one. She therefore could nothelp her lodgers, and they all scrambled on over the desolate placesof poverty as they best might. In general, tea, sugar, bread, a littlerice, a little coffee as a change, a scrap of butter which no cow thatever yielded milk would have acknowledged--these were the usual itemsof Mrs Lawson's marketing, on which she and her young son were to benourished. And on such poor fare as this was that pale boy expected tobecome a hearty man? The mother could not, did not expect it. Else whywere the tears in her eyes so often as she returned? and why did shehang over her son, and caress him fondly, as if in deprecation, whenshe brought him his wretched meal, seeming to lament, to blameherself, too, that she had not been able to provide him anythingbetter? Poor things! poor things!

Mrs Lawson seemed at last to get some employment. She had been seekingfor it long--to judge by her frequent absences from home, and theweary look of disappointment she wore when she returned. But at lastthe opening was found, and she set to work in earnest. She used to goout early in the morning, and not return until late in the evening, and then she looked pale and tired, as one whose energies had beenovertasked all the day; but she had found no gold-mine. The scantymeals were even scantier than before, and her shabby mourning wasgetting shabbier and duller. She was evidently hard-worked for verylittle pay; and their condition was not improved, only sustained byher exertions. Things seemed to be very bad with them altogether, andwith little hope of amendment; for poor Mrs Lawson had been 'broughtup as a lady, ' and so was doubly incapable--by education as well asby temperament--of gaining her own living. She was now employed asdaily governess in the family of a city tradesman--people, who thoughthey were kindly-natured enough, had as much as they could do inkeeping their own fortunes afloat without giving any substantial aidto others, and who had therefore engaged her at the lowest possiblesalary, such as was barely sufficient to keep her and her son fromabsolute want. 

The boy had long been very busy. He used to sit by the window all theday, earnestly employed with paper and scissors; and I wondered whatfascinating occupation he had found to chain him for so many hours bythose chinks and draughts; for he was usually enveloped in shawls, andblankets were hung about his chair, and every tender precaution takenthat he should not increase his sickness by exposure even to theordinary changes in the temperature of a dwelling-room. But now, inspite of his terrible cough, in spite of his hurried breathing, heused to sit for hours on hours by the dusky window, cutting andcutting at that eternal paper, as if his very life depended on histask. But he used to gather up the cuttings carefully, and hide allout of sight before his mother came home--sometimes nearly caughtbefore quite prepared, when he used to shew as much trepidation as ifcommitting a crime. 

This went on for some time, and at last he went out. It wasfortunately a fine day--a clear, cold, January day; but he had nosooner breathed the brisk frosty air than a terrible fit of coughingseemed to threaten his frail existence. He did not turn back though;and I watched him slowly pass down the street, holding on by therails, and every now and then stopping to take breath. I saw apoliceman speak to him in a grave, compassionating way, as if--seeingthat he was so young and feeble, and so much a stranger that he wasasking his way to Oxford Street, while going in a totally contrarydirection--he was advising him to go home, and to let some one else dohis business--his father perhaps; but the boy only smiled, and shookhis head in a hopeful way; and so he went from my sight, though notfrom my thoughts. 

This continued daily, sometimes Herbert bringing home a small quantityof money, sometimes only disappointment; and these were terribletrials! At last, the mother was made acquainted with her son's newmode of life, by the treasured 5s. Which the poor boy thrust into herhand one evening, with a strange shy pride that brought all the bloodinto his face, while he kissed her with impetuosity to smother herreproaches. She asked him how he had got so much money--so much! andthen he told her how, self-taught, he had learned to cut outfigures--dogs and landscapes--in coloured paper, which he had taken tothe bazaars and stationers' shops, and there disposed of--for a meretrifle truly. 'For this kind of thing is not fashionable, mother, though I think the Queen likes them, ' he said; 'and of course, if notfashionable, I could not get very much for them. ' So he contentedhimself, and consoled her, for the small payment of sixpence or ashilling, which perhaps was all he could earn by three or four days'work. 

The mother gently blamed him for his imprudence in exposing himself ashe had done to the wet and cold--and, alas! these had told sadly onhis weakened frame; but Herbert was so happy to-night, that she couldnot damp his pleasure, even for maternal love; so she reserved thelecture which _must_ be given until to-morrow. And then his out-doorexpeditions were peremptorily forbidden; and Miss Spong was called upto strengthen the prohibition--which she did effectually by offering, in her little, quick, nervous way, to take Herbert's cuttings to theshops herself, and thus to spare him the necessity of doing so. PoorMrs Lawson went up to the little woman, and kissed her cheek like asister, as she spoke; while Miss Spong, so utterly unused as she hadbeen for years to the smallest demonstration of affection, looked atfirst bewildered and aghast, and finally sank down on the chair in achildish fit of crying. I cannot say how much the sight of that poorlittle old maid's tears affected me! They seemed to speak of such longyears of heart-loneliness--such loving impulses strangled by the chillhand of solitude--such weary familiarity with that deadness of lifewherein no sympathy is bestowed, no love awakened--that I felt as onewitnessing a dead man recalled to life, after all that made lifepleasant had fled. What a sorrowful house that Number Nineteen was!From the desolate servant-of-all-work at her first place from theFoundling, to the half-starved German in the attics, every inmate ofthe house seemed to have nothing but the bitter bread of affliction toeat--nothing but the salt waters of despair to drink. 

And now began another epoch in the Lawson history, which shed a sadbut most beautiful light over the fading day of that young life. 

A girl of about fourteen--she might have been a year or soyounger--was once sent from one of the stationer's shops to concludesome bargain with the sick paper-cutter. I saw her slender figurebound up the desolate steps with the light tread of youth, as if shehad been a divine being entering the home of human sorrow. She was oneof those saintly children who are sometimes seen blooming like whiteroses, unstained by time or by contact. Her hair hung down her neck inlong, loose curls, among which the sunlight seemed to have fairly lostitself, they were so golden bright; her eyes were large, and of thatdeep, dark gray which is so much more beautiful, because so much moreintellectual, than any other colour eyes can take; her lips were freshand youthful; and her figure had all that girlish grace of fourteenwhich combines the unconscious innocence of the child with theexquisite modesty of the maiden. She soon became the daily visitor ofthe Lawsons--pupil to Herbert. 

The paper-cutting was not wholly laid aside though; in the earlymorning, and in the evening, and often late into the night, the thin, wan fingers were busy about their task; but the middle of the day wassnatched like an hour of sleep in the midst of pain--garnered up likea fountain of sweet waters in the wilderness; for then it was thatlittle Jessie came for her Latin lesson, which she used to learn sowell, and take such pleasure in, and be doubly diligent about, becausepoor Herbert Lawson was ill, and vexation would do him harm. Does itseem strange that a stationer's daughter should be so lovely, andshould learn Latin? And there those two children used to sit for threedear hours of the day; she, leaning over her book, her sweet youngface bent on her task with a look of earnest intellectuality in it, that made her like some sainted maid of olden time; and he watchingher every movement, and listening to every syllable, with a raptinterest such as only very early youth can feel. How happy he used tolook! How his face would lighten up, as if an angel's wing had sweptover it, when the two gentle taps at the door heralded young Jessie!How his boyish reverence, mixed with boyish care, gave his wastedfeatures an expression almost unearthly, as he hung over her soprotectingly, so tenderly, so adoringly! It was so different from aman's love! There was something so exquisitely pure and spiritual init--something so reverential and so chivalrous--it would have beenalmost a sin to have had that love grow out into a man's strongpassion! The flowers she brought him--and seldom did a day passwithout a fresh supply of violets, and, when the weather was warmer, of primroses and cowslips, from her gentle hand--all these werecherished more than gold would have been cherished; the books she lenthim were never from his side; if she touched one of the paltryornaments on the chimney-piece, that ornament was transferred to hisown private table; and the chair she used was always kept apart, andsacred to her return. 

It was very beautiful to watch all these manifestations: for I didwatch them, first from my own window, then in the house, in the midstof the lonely family, comforting when I could not aid, and sharing inthe griefs I could not lessen. Under the new influence, the boy gainedsuch loveliness and spiritualism, that his face had an angeliccharacter, which, though it made young Jessie feel a strange kind ofloving awe for the sick boy, betokened to me, and to his mother, thathis end was not far off. 

He was now too weak to sit up, excepting for a small part of the day;and I feared that he would soon become too weak to teach, even in hisgentle way, and with such a gentle pupil. But the Latin exercisesstill held their place; the books lying on the sofa instead of on thetable, and Jessie sitting by him on a stool, where he could overlookher as she read: this was all the change; unless, indeed, that Jessieread aloud more than formerly, and not always out of a Latin book. Sometimes it was poetry, and sometimes it was the Bible that she readto him; and then he used to stop her, and pour forth such eloquent, such rapturous remarks on what he heard, that Jessie used to sit andwatch him like a young angel holding converse with a spirit. She wasbeginning to love him very deeply in her innocent, girlish, unconscious way; and I used to see her bounding step grow sad andheavy as, day by day, her brother-like tutor seemed to be sinking fromearth so fast. 

Thus passed the winter, poor Mrs Lawson toiling painfully at her task, and Herbert falling into death in his; but with such happiness in hisheart as made his sufferings divine delights, and his weakness, theholy strength of heaven. 

He could do but little at his paper-cutting now, but still hepersevered; and his toil was well repaid, too, when he gave his motherthe scanty payment which he received at the end of the week, and feltthat he had done his best--that he had helped her forward--that he wasno longer an idler supported by her sorrow--but that he had braced theburden of labour on to his own shoulders also, weak as they were, andhad taken his place, though dying, among the manful workers of theworld. Jessie brought a small weekly contribution also, neatly sealedup in fair white paper; and of these crumpled scraps Herbert used tocut angels and cherubs' heads, which he would sit and look at forhours together; and then he would pray as if in a trance--so earnestand heartfelt was it--while tears of love, not grief, would streamdown his face, as his lips moved in blessings on that young maidenchild. 

It came at last. He had fought against it long and bravely; but deathis a hard adversary, and cannot be withstood, even by the strongest. It came, stealing over him like an evening cloud over a star--leavinghim still beautiful, while blotting out his light--softening andpurifying, while slowly obliterating his place. Day by day, hisweakness increased; day by day, his pale hands grew paler, and hishollow cheek more wan. But the love in his boy's heart hung about hissick-bed as flowers that have an eternal fragrance from their birth. 

Jessie was ever a daily visitor, though no longer now a scholar; andher presence had all the effect of religion on the boy--he was socalm, and still, and holy, while she was there. When she was gone, hewas sometimes restless, though never peevish; but he would getnervous, and unable to fix his mind on anything, his sick head turningincessantly to the window, as if vainly watching for a shadowy hope, and his thin fingers plucking ceaselessly at his bed-clothes, inrestless, weary, unsoothed sorrow. While she sat by him, her voicesounding like low music in his ears, and her hands wandering about himin a thousand offices of gentle comforting, he was like a childsinking softly to sleep--a soul striving upward to its home, beckonedon by the hands of the holier sister before it. 

And thus he died--in the bright spring-time of the year, in the brightspring-time of his life. Love had been the cradle-song of his infancy, love was the requiem of his youth. His was no romantic fable, noheroic epic; adventures, passions, fame, made up none of itsincidents; it was simply the history of a boy's manful strugglingagainst fate--of the quiet heroism of endurance, compensated by inwardsatisfaction, if not by actual happiness. 

True, his career was in the low-lying paths of humanity; but it wasnone the less beautiful and pure, for it is not deeds, it is theirspirit, which makes men noble, or leaves them stained. Had HerbertLawson been a warrior, statesman, hero, philosopher, he would haveshewn no other nature than that which gladdened the heart of hiswidowed mother, and proved a life's instruction to Jessie Hamilton, inhis small deeds of love and untaught words of faith in the solitude ofthat lodging-house. Brave, pure, noble then, his sphere only wouldhave been enlarged, and with his sphere the weight and power of hischaracter; but the spirit would have been the same, and in the dyingchild it was as beautiful as it would have been in the renownedphilosopher. 

We have given this simple story--simple in all its bearings--as aninstance of how much real heroism is daily enacted, how much truemorality daily cherished, under the most unfavourable conditions. Awidow and her young son cast on the world without sufficient means ofliving--a brave boy battling against poverty and sickness combined, and doing his small endeavour with manful constancy--a dying youth, whose whole soul is penetrated with love, as with a divine song: allthese are elements of true human interest, and these are circumstancesto be found in every street of a crowded city. And to such as these isthe divine mission of brotherly charity required; for though povertymay not be relieved by reason of our inability, suffering may alwaysbe lightened by our sympathy. It takes but a word of love, a glance ofpity, a gentle kiss of affection--it takes but an hour of our day, aprayer at night, and we may walk through the sick world and thesorrowful as angels dropping balm and comfort on the wounded. The cupof such human love as this poured freely out will prove in truth'twice blessed, ' returning back to our own hearts the peace we haveshed on others. Alas! alas! how thick the harvest and how few thereapers!

VISIT TO A SPOT CONNECTED WITH THE BIOGRAPHY OF BURNS. 

Having occasion to spend a few days of the beautiful July of thepresent year in the lower part of Nithsdale, I felt tempted to bestowa forenoon upon an effort to discover and examine a particular spot inthe district connected with the history of the poet Burns, butrespecting which a doubt has till lately existed. The subject was themore excitingly placed before me, by my seeing every morning, from mybedroom windows, the smiling farmstead of Ellisland, which the poetbuilt, and where he spent more than four years of his life. Dailybeholding his simple home, and the fields he had tilled, I felt arevived interest in his sad history and everything associated with it. 

All the readers of Burns are of course acquainted with his extravagantBacchanalian lyric, beginning--

 O Willie brewed a peck o' maut, And Rab and Allan cam to prie; Three blither hearts that lee-lang night Ye wadna find in Christendie. 

It was well known that the affair described was a real one--that theWillie who gave the entertainment was Mr William Nicol, a master inthe High School of Edinburgh--Rab, the poet himself--and Allan, acertain Mr Masterton, likewise of the Edinburgh High School: threemerry-hearted men, of remarkable talents and many other goodproperties, but who, unfortunately, were all of them too liable to theseductions of the 'barley-bree. ' That such was the scene, and such theactors, we had learned from Burns himself, who thus annotated the songin a musical collection: 'This air is Masterton's; the song mine. Theoccasion of it was this: Mr William Nicol, of the High School, Edinburgh, during the autumn vacation being at Moffat, honestAllan--who was at that time on a visit to Dalswinton--and I went topay Nicol a visit. We had such a joyous meeting, that Mr Masterton andI agreed, each in our own way, that we should celebrate the business. 'That is to say, Burns undertook to compose a song descriptive of themerry encounter, while Mr Masterton, who was an amateur musician, should compose an appropriate air. So far there seems to be littleobscurity about the matter. The locality pointed out is the well-knownspa village of Moffat, situated among the hills of Annandale, abouttwenty miles from Ellisland. Nicol had had a lodging there, in whichto enjoy his few weeks of autumn vacation; Burns and Masterton--theone from Ellisland, the other from Dalswinton--had journeyed thitherin company; and there, probably in some small cottage room, had thestrength of the peck o' maut been tried. Most likely, as Moffat is sofar on the way from Dalswinton to Edinburgh, Mr Masterton would partwith his two friends next day, and proceed on his way to the city, while Burns returned to his farm, lone-meditating on the song in whichhe was to make the frolic immortal. 

With so explicit a statement from the poet, we never should have hadoccasion to feel any doubt about the circumstances referred to in'Willie brewed a peck o' maut, ' had not Dr Currie, the editor of theposthumous collection of Burns's works, inserted therein a note, stating that the merry-meeting 'took place at Laggan, a farm purchasedby Mr Nicol in Nithsdale, on the recommendation of Burns. ' Currie, proceeding upon the undoubted fact of Nicol having purchased such afarm, seems to have imagined that the meeting was what is called inScotland a _house-heating_, or entertainment given to celebrate theentering upon a new domestic establishment, Laggan itself being ofcourse the scene. To add to the perplexity thus created, Dr Currie'sassumptions were taken up by a subsequent editor, who ought to haveknown better--the late Allan Cunningham. He gives the whole affairwith daring circumstantiality. The song, he says, 'was composed tocommemorate the _house-heating_--as entering upon possession of a newhouse is called in Scotland. William Nicol made the brewst strong andnappy; and Allan Masterton, then on a visit at Dalswinton, crossed theNith, and, with the poet and his celebrated punch-bowl, reached Laggan"a wee before the sun gaed down. " The sun, however, rose on theircarousal, if the tradition of the land may be trusted. ' Thus, asLaggan is on the right bank of the Nith, while Dalswinton is on theleft, we have Masterton crossing the river to join Burns at Ellisland, which is the converse of the procedure necessary on the supposition ofMoffat being the locality. A place called Laggan, about two miles fromEllisland, being further assumed as the seat of Nicol, we have thepoet marching along to it bearing his punch-bowl as an essential ofthe frolic!--a particular which this biographer would have probablysuppressed, if he had known that the real Laggan of William Nicol iseight or nine miles from Ellisland, in a part of the country naturallyso difficult of access, that a visitor might be glad to get therehimself without any such nice burden as a punch-bowl to carry. 

In a more recent edition of the poet's life and writings--where atlength an effort is made to illustrate both, by documentary and otherexact evidence[1]--the affair is set in such a light as to throw aludicrous commentary on such testimony as the 'tradition of the land. 'It appears, from a letter of Burns in which two verses of the song aretranscribed, that it was written before 16th October 1789; while itequally appears that Mr Nicol did not purchase Laggan till March 1790:_ergo_, the maut was not brewed at Laggan; Masterton did not cross theNith; and the punch-bowl is a myth, which most likely originated ineditorial fancy. 

Laggan is, nevertheless, a remarkable place, for Burns and Nicol musthave been there together in some fashion, if not a Bacchanalian one, since it was upon the recommendation of the former that the latterbecame its proprietor. There are, however, two Laggans--one inDunscore parish, about two miles from Ellisland; the other inGlencairn parish, a comparatively remote situation; and the latter wasthe Laggan of Nicol. Mr M----, of A----, who now lives near Ellisland, remembers, while living in his father's house, Laggan of Dunscore--theplace erroneously assumed by Cunningham--that Burns and Nicol camethere rather late one evening, and induced his father to accompanythem to the town of Minniehive, whence he did not return home tillnext day at three o'clock. Laggan of Glencairn being on the way toMinniehive, and near it, and there being no other imaginable reasonfor Nicol going to such an out-of-the-way place, it seems a veryreasonable supposition, that the pair of friends were on their way tosee the property which Nicol thought of purchasing; and that Burns, knowing Mr M---- to be well skilled in land, had thought of asking hisadvice on its value. The junior Mr M---- adds a reminiscence, toocharacteristic, we fear, to be much doubted, that Burns and Nicol onthat occasion were for a whole week engaged in merry-making. 

We had, therefore, a half-melancholy interest in seeing Laggan--aname, we felt, associated with reckless gaieties, but then they werethe gaieties of genius, and well had they been moralised in thepunishments which they drew down--for, as Currie remarks in 1799, these 'three merry boys' were already all of them under the turf. Ourkind host, the successor of Masterton's, took us in his carriageacross the Nith, through a scene of natural luxuriance and beauty notto be surpassed, and under a sun of as intense brilliancy as evershone in these climes. Passing into a high side-valley, we soon leftthe glowing plains of Nithsdale behind. We passed under the farmsteadof Laggan of Dunscore, and thought of Burns and Nicol coming there toseduce the worthy farmer away to partake of their festivities atMinniehive. By and by we came to Dunscore kirk, which Burns used toattend with his family while resident at Ellisland--a gloomy-lookingman, the people thought him, all the time that he, with his generous, benevolent nature, was in reality groaning over the stern Calvinistictheology of the preacher. It is a tract of country which has butrecently been reclaimed from a marshy and moorish state, and whichstill shews only partial traces of decoration and high culture. In agloomy recess among the hills, we caught a glimpse of the situation ofthe old castle of Lagg, a fortalice surrounded by bogs, the ancientresidence of the persecutor Grierson of Lagg, and fit scene to beconnected with the history of a man who could coolly stand to seeinnocent women drowned at a stake in the sea for conscience' sake. Thename of the place is pure Norwegian, expressing simply _water_, suchbeing, no doubt, the predominating feature of the scenery in itsoriginal state--while Laggan merely gives the article _en_ (the) inaddition. Soon after passing Dunscore, we entered the valley of theCairn, which, with its chalet-like farmhouses far up the slopes onboth sides, reminded us much of Switzerland. Here, a few miles onward, we saw Maxwellton House, surrounded by those slopes so warmly spokenof in Scottish song--

 Maxwellton braes are bonnie, Where early fa's the dew; Where I and Annie Laurie, Made up the promise true, &c. 

Of this estate, the Laggan of William Nicol was originally a part, being sold in 1790 by Sir Robert Laurie of Maxwellton, a gentlemanwhom Burns has celebrated in his famous poem of 'The Whistle. ' Even inthis splendid summer-day, the whole vale has a rude and tristeappearance, somewhat at issue with the declaration of the old songjust quoted, and not likely, one would have thought, to attract theregard of such men as William Nicol and Robert Burns. 

We had inquired, as we came along, as to the place of which we were inquest; and finding nobody with a very clear or ready conception of itor its whereabouts, began to feel as if it were of a half-fabulouscharacter. At length, however, at a place called Crossford, we weretold we should have to leave our carriage and the road, and ascend theside of the valley to the northward, where, about a mile and a halfonward, we should find a small farm called Laggan Park. This we hopedto find to be the true place. To walk a mile and a half up hill on aroasting July day was not a task to be encountered on light grounds;however, we had resolved to make out our point if possible. Behold acouple of wayfarers, then, pursuing their way along the skirts ofturnip-fields, through slight coppices, and along various clayeybraes, with this unseen place of Laggan Park still keeping wonderfullyahead, long after it ought to have been reached. We wondered how theAyrshire bard would have looked carrying a punch-bowl along ourpresent path, after a journey of eight miles similarly loaded; andwhether he would have thought any amount of the 'barley bree' during'the lee-lang night' a fair recompense for his toils. At length, wearrived at the spot, but in a state of deliquescence and exhaustionnot to be described. It is a small farm-establishment, nestling in abosom of the hills, with some shelter and good exposure, making up forelevation of position, so that its few fields of growing grain, ofpotatoes, and meadow grass, have a tolerably good appearance. Somepatches of ancient coppice at the base of the barish hills behind, give it even a smiling aspect. The farmer, seeing us approach, lefthis people in the field, and came to greet us. We entered a neat cleanroom, and met a kind reception from 'the Mistress, ' who was as triglydressed as if she had been expecting company. It soon became clear, from our conversation with the good couple, that our toils werecrowned with success. This really had been Nicol's property; it stillbelonged to a member of his family. That line of gray heights seenfrom the door was what Burns alluded to when he facetiously dubbed hisfriend 'Illustrious lord of Laggan's many hills. ' This cottage hadbeen the retreat of the High School master in his hours of rusticvacation. There was a difficulty, which we discussed over a glass ofmost welcome spirits and water furnished by the farmer: Did this neatroom form a part of the dwelling of Nicol? It appeared not. It was amodern addition. The original house, to which it adjoined upon adifferent level of flooring, was the merest hut, of one room, with aline of box-beds dividing the sitting-place from a small space, which, being rudely causewayed like a cow-house, had probably been employedin keeping animals of some kind. Such was the humble _tuguriolum_ ofWillie Nicol of the 'peck o' maut'--an interesting memorial of thesimplicity of country life in Scotland at the close of the eighteenthcentury. We did not venture to indulge in any dreamings as to festivemeetings between Burns and Nicol in this humble shed; for we felt thathere there was no certain ground to go upon. Enough that we could beassured of Burns and Nicol having been together here; two mostsingular examples of the peasant class of their country, and one ofthem an unapproached master of his country's lyre, whose strains havefloated to the ends of the earth, and promise to last through manyages. 

The elements of the place, and the ideas connected with it were, afterall, too simple to detain us long. We only waited to snatch a slightpencil sketch of the house and its adjuncts; and then, having takenleave of the farmer and his wife, we retraced our steps to the road. Somewhat unexpectedly, and not at all in keeping with the idea ofeither Maxwellton braes or Laggan's many hills, we discovered in ourwalk that the rough terrace-like ground over which we had passedbefore coming in sight of Nicol's estate, was a _moraine_, or mass of_débris_, produced and left there by a glacier. Its surface, thicklycovered with loose blocks of rock different from that of the district, first fixed our attention; then looking into some openings which hadbeen made in the earth for building materials, we readily observedthat the internal constitution of the mass was precisely like that ofthe moraines of the existing glaciers of the Alps, and of the similarmasses of drift scattered over Sweden--a confused mixture of angular, slightly-worn blocks of all sizes, bedded in clayey gravel of a browncolour. Such objects are rare in Scotland; but here is undoubtedlyone, though we cannot pretend to tell from what quarter it has come. The thing most nearly resembling it in general appearance, which wehave ever seen, is an undoubted ancient moraine at a place calledMosshuus, in the Valley of the Laug, in Norway. 

One reflection arises at the conclusion of this trivial investigation, and it is this--If so much doubt and obscurity have already settled oncircumstances which took place scarcely beyond the recollection ofliving people, can we wonder at that which invests the events of amore remote epoch? If editors in our enlightened time have contrivedso soon to give the history of Burns a mythical character, what safetyhave we in trusting to such ancient narrations as those of Plutarch orThucydides? On the other hand, where even such a biography as that ofBurns is placed by sound and carefully-examined evidence upon anirrefragable basis, a service is rendered to the public beyond themerits of any immediate question that may be under discussion, in theencouragement which it gives to historical inquirers of all grades, torest satisfied with nothing on vague assertion, but to sift everythingto the bottom. 

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Life and Works of Robert Burns, edited by Robert Chambers. 4 vols. Edinburgh: W. & R. Chambers. 

ONE-SIDEDNESS. 

 _Plantagenet. _ The truth appears _so_ naked on my side, That any purblind eye may find it out. _Somerset. _ And on my side it is so well apparelled, So clear, so shining, and so evident, That it will glimmer through a blind man's eye. 

 _First Part of Henry VI. _

Having made up our mind upon a question, probably by a delightfullycurt process, how pleasant and natural it is to laugh sublimely at alldissentients! Poor creatures, those nonconformists are almost to bepardoned, so much does their impenetrable dulness amuse us! How they_can_ have scrambled to a conclusion opposite to ours, is a problem soabsurd that it tickles us amazingly. 

Yet the formation of opinions is vastly dependent upon circumstances. Whang-shing is born in the Celestial Empire; and the chances are thatthe fellow will go the length of pinning his faith to Confucius. Yonder squalid urchin, turning out of Saffron Hill or some othersweet-scented purlieus, has been cradled on the ragged lap ofprofessional mendicancy; and there is a strong probability that hewill come to a misunderstanding with the police one of these finedays. The mild-eyed priest who just passed you, was born and educatedwithin the states of the church; and somehow or other he firmlybelieves in the Romanism you so hotly repudiate. The sallow-facedgentleman crossing the road, and exhibiting so wobegone an aspect, hasalways had a bad liver; and you will never persuade him to look on thebright side of life. While this bustling, vivacious personage, whoapproaches us with such a springy step, and rapid merry glance, hasnever known a day's illness--is indebted to hearsay for his belief innerves--and is ready to challenge Europe to beat him at a heartyguffaw--_he_ is perplexed by the shadow of a long face, marvels withall his might at a heavy eye, and cannot unriddle the philosophy of abent brow. When shall we learn that the result of looking depends onthe state of the eye--that the vision is modified by the position ofthe seer--that he who stands on one side, sees one side only? SaysWordsworth--

 We safely may affirm that human life Is either fair or tempting, a soft scene, Grateful to sight, refreshing to the soul, Or a forbidden tract of cheerless view, _Even as the same is looked at, or approached_. 

And the pastor of the _Excursion_, who is the spokesman, illustrateshis doctrine by shewing that the church-yard among the mountains, inwhich he and his companions are standing, if approached from thesullen north, when 'in changeful April, fields are white withnew-fallen snow, ' and ere the sun has gained his noontide height, willappear an 'unillumined, blank, and dreary plain, with more than wintrycheerlessness and gloom saddening the heart;' whereas, if it beregarded from the quarter whence the lord of light dispenses hisbeams, '_then_ will a vernal prospect greet your eye'--

 All fresh and beautiful, and green and bright, Hopeful and cheerful--vanished is the pall That overspread and chilled the sacred turf, Vanished or hidden; and the whole domain, To some, too lightly minded, might appear A meadow carpet for the dancing hours. 

The same principle of mental optics is of universal application. Wecannot ignore it without fatal results when studying history, science, art, human nature, or any conceivable object of inquiry. Thus, informing our opinion of the actions of others, there is no moremischievous absurdity, it has been remarked, than to judge them fromthe outside as they look to us, instead of from the inside as theylook to the actors; nothing more irrational than to criticise deeds asthough the doers of them had the same hopes, fears, desires, andrestraints with ourselves. 'We cannot understand another's characterexcept by abandoning our own identity, and realising to ourselves hisframe of mind, his want of knowledge, his hardships, temptations, anddiscouragements. ' If we turn to history, we are reminded of ThomasMoore's lines--

 By Tory Hume's seductive page beguiled, We fancy Charles was just, and Stratford mild; And Fox himself, with party pencil draws Monmouth a hero 'for the good old cause!' Then, rights are wrongs, and victories are defeats, As French or English pride the tale repeats. 

Thus, too, Macaulay remarks, that for many years every Whig historianwas anxious to prove that the old English government was all butrepublican--every Tory, to prove it all but despotic. 'With suchfeelings, both parties looked into the chronology of the middle ages. Both readily found what they sought, and obstinately refused to seeanything but what they sought. ' Accordingly, to see only one-half ofthe evidence, you would conclude that the Plantagenets were asabsolute as the sultans of Turkey; to see only the other half, youwould conclude that they had as little real power as the Doges ofVenice: and both conclusions would be equally remote from the truth. 

Carlyle justly affirms, that if that man is a benefactor to the worldwho causes two ears of corn to grow where only one grew before, muchmore is he a benefactor who causes two truths to grow up together inharmony and mutual confirmation, where before only one stood solitary, and, on that side at least, intolerant and hostile. Every genius ridesa winged horse; but all are apt to ride too fast. Plotinus, saysEmerson, 'believes only in philosophers; Fénélon, in saints; Pindarand Byron, in poets. Read the haughty language in which Plato and thePlatonists speak of all men who are not devoted to their own shiningabstractions. ' If genius is liable to such one-sidedness, the greaterthe need of educational correctives to common-place minds. Hence theoverpursuit of any one subject may be hurtful, unless duly balanced bycountervailing forces. As the author of _Friends in Council_ says, ahuman being, like a tree, if it is to attain to perfect symmetry, musthave light and air given to it from all quarters. This may be donewithout making men superficial--without sanctioning the dissipation ofmere desultory reading. One or two great branches of science may besystematically prosecuted, and others used in a more supplementary andillustrative form. 'A number of one-sided men, ' observes the samewriter, 'may make a great nation, though I much incline to doubt that;but such a nation will not contain a number of great men. ' With theadvance of intelligence, advances a catholicism of literature, oftaste, of humanity at large. Uncultured intellect, 'cabined, cribbed, confined, ' is ill at ease among the riches of variety in literarylore; it is satisfied with the little, because, as Menzel says, itknows not the great; it is content with one-sidedness, because it seesnot the other sides. If critical _esprit de corps_ has its advantages, it has its penalties also; potent within its self-imposed bounds, itis impotent outside of them. Longfellow reminds his brethren of thelyre, that whatever is best in the great poets of all countries, isnot what is national in them, but what is universal: their roots arein their native soil, but their branches wave in the unpatriotic air, that speaks the same language to all men, and their leaves shine withthe illimitable light that pervades all lands. 'Let us throw all thewindows open; let us admit the light and air on all sides; that we maylook towards the four corners of the heavens, and not always in thesame direction. '

Monomania is sometimes simply the exaggerated regard to one side ofmany-sided truth. It is not absolute, but only relative delusion. Itis in its degree true; but by affecting to be the whole truth, itbecomes untrue. Philosophic reflection shews, that if a man fasten hisattention on a single aspect of truth, and apply himself to that alonefor a long time, 'the truth becomes distorted, and not itself, butfalsehood;' and may be compared to the air, which is our naturalelement, and the breath of our nostrils; 'but if a stream of the samebe directed on the body for a time, it causes cold, fever, and evendeath. ' 'How wearisome, ' exclaims Emerson, 'the grammarian, thephrenologist, the political or religious fanatic, or, indeed, anypossessed mortal, whose balance is lost by the exaggeration of asingle topic! It is _incipient insanity_. ' The bore of society isconstituted by his one-sidedness. His ear is deficient in the sense ofharmony, and he deafens and disgusts you by harping on one string. Theretired nabob holds you by the button, to hear his wearisome diatribeson Indian economics; the half-pay officer is too fluent on hisworn-out recollections of the Peninsular War, and becomes savage ifyou broach a new theme, or move to adjourn the debate; the universitypedant distracts you with his theories on philology andscansion--with his amended translation of a hexameter in Persius, andhis new reading of a line in Theocritus; the bagman is all for 'theshop;' the policeman is redolent of the 'lock-up house 'and 'yourwertchup;' the tailor is profoundly knowing on the 'sweating system;'the son of Crispin vows and protests there's 'nothing like leather. 'All these _minus_ signs have a tendency to cancel each other: and thusthe equation of life is worked out. Society has been said to have atall times the same want--namely, of one sane man, with adequate powersof expression to hold up each object of monomania in its rightrelations. 'The ambitious and mercenary bring their last newMumbo-Jumbo--whether tariff, railway, mesmerism, or California--and bydetaching the object from its relations, easily succeed in making itseen in a glare, and a multitude go mad about it; and they are not tobe reproved or cured by the opposite multitude, who are kept from thisparticular insanity by an equal frenzy on another crotchet. But letone man have the comprehensive eye that can replace this isolatedprodigy in its right neighbourhood and bearings, and the illusionvanishes--the returning reason of the community thanks the reason ofthe monitor. ' There is perhaps nothing which more urgently calls forsuch a controlling and overseeing mind, to curb eccentric excesses, and to restore equilibrium of action, than philanthropy itself. In theenthusiasm of its impulses, it thinks it can afford to sneer atpolitical economy, and that it is right to wander at its own sweetwill, benevolently defying the remonstrances of all who have a methodto propound, a science to explain, a system to uphold. Though theheart be large, yet the mind--as Nathaniel Hawthorne somewhereobserves--is often of such moderate dimensions, as to be exclusivelyfilled up with one idea; and thus, when a good man has long devotedhimself to a particular kind of beneficence, to one species of reform, he is apt to become narrowed into the limits of the path wherein hetreads, and to fancy that there is no other good to be done on earthbut that selfsame good to which he has put his hand, and in the verymode that best suits his own conceptions. 'All else is worthless; hisscheme must be wrought out by the united strength of the whole world'sstock of love, or the world is no longer worthy of a position in theuniverse. Moreover, powerful truth, being the rich grape-juiceexpressed from the vineyard of the ages, has an intoxicating qualitywhen imbibed by any but a powerful intellect, and often, as it were, impels the quaffer to quarrel in his cups. ' Even a saint with one ideamay be a plague to his neighbourhood; and, by being canonised, mayretard, not further, the progress of his church. 

Let us own, however, that one-idea'd people are often amusing as wellas mischievous--or rather, when not mischievous. The rapt devotionthey pay to their _idola specûs_ oscillates between the sublime andthe ridiculous. We have all seen such people, and alternately admiredand laughed at them. We have all witnessed or read pleasantillustrations of their doings. With one such illustration we concludethis discursive fragment. It is related by the witty author of _ADefence of Ignorance_, who introduces it in the course of an imaginarydialogue on one-sided university training, in which one of thespeakers (at dessert) says to his companion: 'If you reach after thatpear, without considering what stands against your elbows, you mayempty a decanter over me. He who desires thoroughly to know onesubject, should be possessed of so much intellectual geography as willenable him to see its true position in the universe of thought. ' Theallusion to upsetting a decanter reminds the other interlocutor of astory, which he proceeds to tell. A gentleman who carved a goose wasinexpert; and thinking only of the stubborn joints that would not beunhinged, he totally forgot the gravy. Presently, the goose slippedoff the dish, and escaped into his neighbour's lap. Now, to havethrown a hot goose on a lady's lap would disconcert most people, butthe gentleman in question was _not_ disconcerted. Turning round, witha bland smile, he said: 'I'll trouble you for that goose. ' Here wehave a sublime example of a man with one idea. This gentleman's ideawas the goose; and in the absorbing interest attached to hisundertaking, that he was to carve the goose, not altogether knowinghow, he had shut out extraneous objects. Suddenly the goose was gone, but his eye followed it, his mind was wrapt up in his struggle withit; what did he know of that lady? 'I'll trouble you for that goose, 'expressed the perfect abstraction of a mind bent on developing its oneidea. 

MR KIRBY THE NATURALIST. 

The popular fame of Mr Kirby rests upon the _Introduction toEntomology_, a work (partly written by him) full of interesting factsrespecting the economy of the insect world. Amongst the scientific, his reputation depends on a variety of elaborate papers which he wrotefor learned societies on subjects connected with natural history. Forsixty years previous to the conclusion of his long life in 1850, hehad devoted the leisure of a parsonage to that delightful study, andbeing a diligent and accurate observer, and an elegant andentertaining writer, he had attained the highest rank amongst theBritish naturalists of his day. It appears, from a memoir justpublished, [2] that Mr Kirby was born in 1759, and settled in 1782 inthe cure of Barham, near Ipswich, where he was ultimately rector, andwhich he only left for his last long-home sixty-eight yearsthereafter. In an age of sluggish theology, he was an earnest ministerand zealous controversialist, all the time that he was cultivating ataste for natural objects. This is equally unexpected and creditable. And yet it does not appear that his personal conduct was characterisedby anything like rigour, for, as an example, we find, from the journalof an entomological excursion in 1797, that it was commenced on aSunday afternoon, and involved one other Sunday of constanttravelling. A reference of the dates to an almanac enables us toestablish this fact, so unlike the spirit of a zealous man in ourtimes. 

Of the sister sciences of nature, botany first attracted Mr Kirby'sregards. 'This he pursued in no hasty or superficial manner, but withthe greatest perseverance and research. It was not enough for him toknow a plant by sight, and to ascertain its proper name, but hecompared the minutest parts of inflorescence and fructification; hesought for the most trifling differences in those nearly allied, andstudied with a keen but generous criticism the various theories ofwriters on the science, from the earliest age to the time of theimmortal Linnè. Of every plant he met with, even to the daisy andprimrose, the whole physiological structure was thoroughlyinvestigated; he discovered, or rather observed, what it was whichenabled some plants to endure great changes of temperature, whileothers perished--the formation which enabled some to live in water, while others flourished in the most dry and arid sands; he carefullymarked the causes which combined to clothe even rocks with verdure, inconsequence of the wonderful structure of the plants inhabiting them, enabling them to live as it were by the suction of their numerousmouths, rather than by nourishment transmitted by a root in contactwith that which would refuse to yield the ordinary food of plants. Andas he thus marked all these peculiar adaptations of plants to theirrespective situations, his mind was by a constant train of thoughtdirected from the beauty and wondrous mechanism of the creature, tocontemplate the supreme and ineffable glory of the Creator. '

With a mind so predisposed and so fitted for the study of entomology, a casual occurrence of a trivial nature was sufficient to awaken andgive it direction. 'Observing accidentally, one morning, a verybeautiful golden bug creeping on the sill of my window, I took it upto examine it, and finding that its wings were of a more yellow huethan was common to my observation of these insects before, I wasanxious carefully to examine any other of its peculiarities; andfinding that it had twenty-two beautiful clear black spots upon itsback, my captured animal was imprisoned in a bottle of gin, for thepurpose, as I supposed, of killing him. On the following morning, anxious to pursue my observation, I took it again from the gin, andlaid it on the window-sill to dry, thinking it dead; but the warmth ofthe sun very soon revived it: and hence commenced my further pursuitof this branch of natural history. '

A Dr Gwyn of Ipswich was his preceptor in this study. 'Though now inhis seventy-fifth year, so much was the good old doctor interested inthe pursuit of his friend, that he would frequently walk over toBarham, a distance of five miles, to see what had been the success ofrecent perambulations. The parsonage-house was then approached by anarrow wicket, with posts higher than the gate, and often, whileworking in his garden, or sitting in his parlour, Mr Kirby would lookup and see, to his great delight, the shovel hat of his facetiousfriend adorning one post, and the cumbrous wig and appertainingpig-tail ornamenting the other. And soon the kind old man would walkin with his bald head, as he used to say, cool and ready for theinvestigation. These visits were always hailed with pleasure, thedelights of which were still fresh in the memory of Mr Kirby, andwould call forth expressions of affectionate gratitude, even whennearly half a century had elapsed, after his friend and Mæcenas, as heloved to call him, had gone to his rest. '

There seems no room to doubt, that his studies tended not merely tothe happiness of Mr Kirby's life, but to its duration. It is at thesame time abundantly evident, that much hard work was undergone. Hecarried on a most laborious correspondence with other naturalists, often extending a letter to the dimensions of a pamphlet: thisaltogether over and above his practical researches and his publishedwritings. He took good-humoured views of most things, and was noteasily put out of temper. A slight dash of absence of mind increasedthat quaintness of character so often found in zealous students. On anentomological excursion with two friends, Mr Marsham and Mr Macleay, it happened on their arriving at an old-fashioned wayside inn, that'there was only one large room for them, with three beds in it. Thearrangement having been made for the night, according to the custom ofthe time, three nightcaps were laid upon the dressing-table. Mr Kirbyretired before his companions, and was soon sound asleep. Perceivingno caps ready for them, his friends inquired for what they consideredthe due appurtenances of the pillow: they were assured by the hostessthat three nightcaps were laid upon the table, but they stoutlyaverred they had not seen them; the landlady no less stoutlymaintaining her side of the question. What actually passed in her ownmind did not transpire, but she appealed to the first gentleman asbeing the only one who could throw light upon the subject; when, loand behold! as soon as his head appeared, in answer to the hastysummons, the three nightcaps appeared at the same time upon it, onebeing dragged over the other, much to the amusement not only of thosepresent, but also of those who long after heard the tale. '

Another example of the pleasantries that sometimes enliven the path ofthe naturalist. It is related by Mr Spence, and refers to the timewhen that gentleman was engaged with Mr Kirby in preparing the workwhich has for ever combined their names. 'Mr (now Sir William J. )Hooker was at that time staying at Barham, and being desirous to havepointed out to him, and to gather with his own hands, a rare speciesof _Marchantia?_ from its habitat, first discovered by Mr Kirby, nearNayland, some miles distant, it was agreed we three should walkthither, entomologising by the way, and after dinner proceed to thehedge-bank where it grew. Entering the head inn-yard on foot, withdusty shoes, and without other baggage than our insect-nets in ourhands, we met with but a cool reception, which, however, visiblywarmed as soon as we had desired to be shewn into the bestdining-room, and had ordered a good dinner and wine. We intended towalk back in the evening, but as the bank where the _Marchantia?_ grewwas a mile or two out of the direct road, and it came on rain, weordered out a postchaise, merely saying we wanted to drive a short wayon a road which Mr Kirby indicated to the postilion. 

'When we arrived at the gate of the field where the bank was, the rainhad become very heavy; so, calling to the postilion to stop and openthe door, we scampered out of the chaise, all laughing, and hastilytelling him to wait there, without other explanation we climbed overthe gate, and not to be long in the rain, set off running as fast aswe could along the field-side of the hedge, to the bank we werelooking for. We saw amazement in the face of our postilion at whatpossible motive could have made three guests of his master clamberpell-mell over a gate into a field that led nowhere, in the midst of aheavy shower of rain, and then run away as if pursued; and it was theexpression in his countenance which caused our mirth, which wasincreased to peals of merriment when we saw that, instead of waitingfor us at the gate, as we had directed, he mounted his horses with allspeed, and pushed on in a gallop along the road on the other side ofthe hedge, evidently to circumvent our nefarious plan (as heconceived) of bilking his master both of our dinners and thechaise-hire. When the cessation of our uncontrollable mirth hadallowed us to gather specimens of our plant, perceiving through thehedge whereabouts we stopped, he also halted to watch our motions, andwhen he saw us run back, he obeyed our orders to return to thegate--where we got into the chaise, still in a roar of laughter at thewhole affair, and at his awkward attempt to explain away his nothaving waited for us there, as we had directed, and evident highsatisfaction at bringing back in triumph to our inn the three cheatswhose intended plans he had so cleverly frustrated, as he no doubttold his master; to whom, being too much amused with the adventure, wedid not make any explanation, but left it to form one of thetraditions of the inn. '

When a man excels in anything, it must always be of some consequenceto know what were his habits, and what external means he employed, inconnection with his particular gift. Mr Spence says: 'There were twocircumstances in Mr Kirby's study of insects, by which I was alwaysforcibly struck on my visits to him at Barham. The first was thelittle parade of apparatus with which his extensive and valuableacquisitions were made. If going to any distance, he would put intohis pocket a forceps-net and small water-net, with which to catchbees, flies, and aquatic insects; but, in general, I do not rememberto have seen him use a net of any other description. His numerouscaptures of rare and new Coleoptera were mostly made by carefullysearching for them in their haunts, from which--if trees, shrubs, orlong grass, &c. --he would beat them with his walking-stick into anewspaper; and, collected in this way, he would bring home in a fewsmall phials in his waistcoat pockets, and in a moderate-sizedcollecting-box, after an afternoon's excursion, a booty often muchricher than his companions had secured with their more elaborateapparatus. The second circumstance in Mr Kirby's study of insects, towhich I allude, was the deliberate and careful way in which heinvestigated the nomenclature of his species. Every author likely tohave described them was consulted, their descriptions duly estimated;and it was only after thus coming to the decision that the insectbefore him had not been previously described, that he placed it in hiscabinet under a new name. It was owing to this cautious mode ofproceeding--which young entomologists would do well to follow--that hefell into so few errors, and rendered such solid service to thescience; and a not less careful consideration was always exercised byhim in the forming of new genera, and in his published descriptions ofnew species, as his admirable papers in the _Linnæan Transactions_amply testify. '

Considering how well Mr Kirby performed his professional duties, howmuch he did to advance his favourite science, and how greatly hecontributed to the happiness of society within the sphere of hispersonal influence, his may truly be said to have been a _well-spentlife_. On this account, Mr Freeman's memoir may be recommended to thenotice of many who are not as yet conscious of the charms ofentomology. 

FOOTNOTES:

[2] _Life of the Rev. William Kirby, M. A. _ By John Freeman. 8vo, pp. 506. London: Longman & Co. 1852. 

THE MODERN TARTAR. 

The phrase, 'Catching a Tartar, ' points to a peculiarity in Tartarlife, which, however correct historically, is not in keeping with theactual current state of the Mongol character. It implies somethingimpetuous, stern, unyielding, relentless, and cruel; whereas themodern life of the children of the desert exhibits much that issimple, confiding, generous, and even chivalric. It is nothing to ourdiscredit that we should have been so long in discovering thesefeatures in the great nomadic class of the day, because Europeanbarbarians are absolutely prohibited from visiting the desert placeswhich are the scenes of their wanderings; and but for the enterpriseof two Roman Catholic missionaries from France, we should probablyhave remained in ignorance for a much longer period. These gentlemen, however, have thrown a light on this subject, which is too remarkableto be passed over without notice. Messrs Gabet and Huc composed theirwork in 1846, but it has only recently been published in thiscountry, [3] and its perusal cannot fail to modify many of ourpreconceived notions regarding Tartar life. 

It will, for example, be admitted that, according to the hithertopopular acceptation of the character, Tartars were not exactly thesort of persons on whom practical jokes might be perpetrated withimpunity. Read, however, the following anecdote:--While our twotravellers were one day in their tents, two Tartar horsemen dashed upto the entrance, and threw themselves on the ground. 'Men of prayer, 'said they with voices full of emotion, 'we come to ask you to draw ourhoroscope. We have this day had two horses stolen from us. We cannotfind the robbers, and we come to you men of learning, to tell us wherewe shall find our property. '

'Brothers, ' answered the missionaries, 'we are not lamas of Buddha, and do not believe in horoscopes. For a man to say that he candiscover stolen goods by such means, is falsehood and deception. '

The horsemen entreated, but the priests were inflexible, and thedisappointed Tartars mounted their steeds, and galloped off. It sohappened that Samdadchiemba, the guide of the missionaries--aChristianised Oriental, but withal a very merry fellow--was presentduring this interview, but he sat drinking his tea without uttering aword. All on a sudden he knitted his brows, rose, and came to thedoor. The horsemen were at some distance; but the _dchiahour_, by anexertion of his strong lungs, induced them to turn round in theirsaddles. He motioned to them, and they, thinking that the horoscopewas to be given, galloped once more to the tent. 'My Mongol brothers, 'said Samdadchiemba, 'in future be more careful: watch your herds well, and you won't be robbed. Retain these words of mine in your memory:they are worth all the horoscopes in the world. '

Samdad--the reader will perhaps thank us for the abbreviation--gravelyreturned to the tent; and the Tartars did not dismount and whip him, as two horsemen of any other nation under the sun would have done, butquietly resumed their journey. It appeared that Samdad had once actedas diviner on a similar occasion. The missing valuable was a bull, andthe sage having called for eleven stones, counted, arranged andrearranged them with great gravity, and then appeared to meditate. 'Ifyou would find your bull, go seek him in the north, ' said themagician; and without querulously inquiring, like Shakspeare'sRichard, what Taurus did in that region, the Mongols pursued anorthern course, and by mere chance actually discovered the animal. Samdad was entertained for a week, and took his departure laden withbutter and tea. He hinted his regret that 'his attachment to MotherChurch' prevented him from playing the soothsayer to the two horsemen. 

A peculiarity in Tartar manners, regarding stolen horses whenabstracted near caravans, is likely to prove of more service thancasting horoscopes. Some time after the occurrence mentioned, themissionaries lost a horse and mule. 'We each mounted a camel, and madea circuit in search of the animals. Our search being futile, weresolved to proceed to the Mongol encampment, and inform them that ourloss had taken place near their habitation. _By a law among theTartars_, when animals are lost from a caravan, the persons occupyingthe nearest encampment are bound either to find them or replacethem. . . . This it is which has contributed to render the Mongols soskilful in tracking. A mere glance at the slight traces left by ananimal on the grass, suffices to inform the Mongol pursuer how long itis since it passed, and whether or not it bore a rider; and the trackonce found, they follow it throughout all its meanderings, howevercomplicated. 

'We had no sooner explained our loss to the Mongol chief, than he saidto us cheerfully: "Sirs Lamas, do not permit sorrow to invade yourhearts. Your animals cannot be lost; in these plains there are neitherrobbers nor associates of robbers. I will send in quest of yourhorses. If we do not find them, you may select what others you pleasein their place from our herd. We would have you leave this place ashappy as you came to it. "' Eight horses darted off in pursuit; themissionaries were invited to take tea in the interim, and in two hoursthe strayed cattle were recovered. We should like to know in whatother country travellers would be so treated?

Regal personages in these regions observe the characteristic simplemanners of the country. Our pilgrims were pursuing their solitary way, when the tramping of many horses and the sound of many voicesdisturbed the silence of the desert. A large caravan belonging to thequeen of Mourguevan overtook them, and a mandarin addressed them. 

'Sirs, where is your country?'

'We come from the west. '

'Through what districts have your beneficial shadows passed?'

'We have come from Tolon Noor. '

'Has peace accompanied your progress?'

'Hitherto we have journeyed in all tranquillity. And you--are you atpeace, and what is your country?'

'We are Khalkhas of the kingdom of Mourguevan. '

After some other Oriental queries and answers, her majesty comes up. The cavalcade halted, and the camels formed into a semicircle, thecentre being occupied by a close four-wheeled carriage. Two mandarins, 'decorated with the blue button, ' opened the door, and handed out thequeen, who was attired in a long silk robe. 

'Sirs Lamas, ' said she, raising her hands, 'is this place auspiciousfor an encampment?'

'Royal pilgrim of Mourguevan, ' said we, 'you may light your fires herein all security. For ourselves, we must proceed on our way, for thesun was already high when we folded our tent. '

The Tartars are divided into two grand classes--lamas and laymen. Theformer act as priests, lawyers, physicians, painters, decorators, &c. , and in fact monopolise every learned and liberal art and profession. Of course, they are held in high repute; and our travellers having, like Joseph Wolff, adopted sacerdotal costume, they were everywherereceived with the honours and respect awarded to the indigenousclergy. It will duly appear, from subsequent illustrations, that mereecclesiasticism did not secure the hospitality and kindness which theyexperienced at all hands; but even after making allowance for thenational devotion to the cloth, the attentions shewed by the Mongolsare often marked by a delicate sense of the hospitable. On oneoccasion, M. Huc and his companions encountered an unusual storm ofrain and wind. After travelling several weary miles, Samdad contrivedto erect the tent in a place that, for the locality, was tolerable, but no more. 'My spiritual fathers, ' observed the guide, 'I told youwe should not die to-day of thirst, but I am not at all sure that wedon't run some risk of dying of hunger. ' In point of fact, thereseemed no possibility of making a fire. There was not a tree, not ashrub, not a root to be seen. As to argols, the rain had long sincereduced that combustible of the desert to a liquid pulp. The pilgrimswere about to partake of the primitive fare of meal steeped in coldwater--a cheerless beverage to three men drenched to the skin--when atthe critical juncture up came two Tartars. 

'Sirs Lamas, this day the heavens have fallen. You doubtless have beenunable to make a fire. '

'Alas! how should we make a fire? we have no argols. '

'Men are all brothers, and belong to each other; but laymen shouldhonour and serve the holy ones: therefore it is that we have come tomake a fire for you. '

The fire soon blazed and crackled, and a hot repast speedily rejoicedthe jaded frames of the two priests and the imp Samdad. 

The domiciliary hospitalities of the Tartars are frank and artless, forming a marked contrast to the formal reception of strangers amongthe Chinese. 'On entering, you give the word of peace, _amor_ or_mendon_, to the company generally. You then seat yourself on theright of the head of the family, whom you find squatting on the flooropposite the entrance. Next, everybody takes from a purse, suspendedat his girdle, a little snuff-bottle, and mutual pinches accompanysuch phrases as these: "Is the pasturage with you rich and abundant?""Are your herds in fine condition?" "Did you travel in peace?" "Doestranquillity prevail?" The mistress then silently holds out her handto the visitor. He as silently takes from his breast-pocket a smallwooden bowl, the indispensable _vade mecum_ of all Tartars, andpresents it to the hostess, who fills it with tea and milk, andreturns it. ' In higher families, a table is spread with butter, oatmeal, millet, cheese, all in small boxes of polished wood; andthese luxuries are all mixed in the everlasting tea. Amongst theuppermost aristocratic classes, fermented milk is proffered; butEuropeans would perhaps regard this liquor as more honoured by beingset aside than indulged in. 

We now proceed to exhibit some traits of Tartar character, asdeveloped in their intercourse with their Asiatic brethren. As usual, a horseman overtakes or meets the travellers; and after the customarysalutations, the missionaries inquired why he and his brethren did notcultivate corn, instead of allowing every field to run to grass. 

'We Mongols, ' replied this stranger, 'are formed for living in tents, and pasturing cattle. So long as we kept to that in the kingdom ofGechekten, we were rich and happy. Now, ever since the Mongols haveset themselves to cultivating the land, and building houses, they havebecome poor. The _Kitats_ (Chinese) have taken possession of thecountry: flocks, herds, lands, houses--all have passed into theirhands. There remain to us only a few prairies, on which still liveunder their tents such of the Mongols as have not been forced by utterdestitution to emigrate to other lands. '

'But if the Chinese are so baneful to you, why did you allow them topenetrate into your country?'

'We took pity on these wicked Kitats, who came to us weeping, tosolicit our charity. We allowed them, through pure compassion, tocultivate a few patches of land. The Mongols insensibly followed theirexample, and abandoned the nomadic life. They drank the wine of theKitats, and smoked their tobacco on credit; they bought theirmanufactures on credit, at double the real value. When the day ofpayment came, there was no money ready, and the Mongols had to yieldto the violence of their creditors houses, lands, flocks, everything. '

'But could you not seek justice from the tribunals?'

'Justice from the tribunals! That is out of the question. The Kitatsare skilful to talk and to lie. It is impossible for a Mongol to gaina suit against a Kitat. Sirs Lamas, the kingdom of Gechekten isundone!'

After-experience amply corroborated the truth of these statements. 'The commercial intercourse between the Tartars and the Chinese isrevoltingly iniquitous on the part of the latter. So soon as theMongols arrive in a trading town, they are snapped up by some Chinese, who carry them off, as it were, by main force to their houses, givethem tea for themselves, and forage for their horses, and cajole themin every conceivable way. The Mongols take all they hear to beperfectly genuine, and congratulate themselves--conscious, as theyare, of their inaptitude for business--upon their good-fortune in thusmeeting with brothers _Ahaton_, as they say, in whom they can placefull confidence, and who will undertake to manage their whole businessfor them. A good dinner, provided in the back-shop, completes theillusion--and when once the Chinese has established his hold, heemploys all the resources of a skilful and utterly unprincipledknavery. He keeps his victim in his house, eating, drinking, andsmoking one day after another, until his subordinates have sold allthe poor man's cattle, or whatever else he has to sell, and bought forhim in return the commodities he requires, at prices double and treblethe market value. But so plausible is the Chinese, and so simple isthe Tartar, that the latter invariably departs with the most entireconfidence in the immense philanthropy of the former, and with apromise to return, when he has other goods to sell, to theestablishment where he has been treated so fraternally. '

The missionaries were themselves mistaken for Tartars when theyvisited the 'Blue Town, ' and every kind of imposition was attempted tobe practised on them. The hotel scouts assailed them at their firstentry, and almost compelled them, by physical force, to become theirguests; shopkeepers cozened on all hands; and even bankerscondescended to cheat. Messrs Gabet and Huc wished to exchange silverfor Chinese coin current. The Tartars can weigh, but cannot calculate, and accordingly the bank-teller of Blue Town, after gravely consultinghis _souan-pan_ (exchange-table), announced the value to be about athousand _sapeks_ less than it should have been. The missionariesremonstrated, and a colleague was called in to check the sum, but he, with due gravity, declared that the first was right. A bystanderinterfered, and declared in favour of the strangers. 'Sirs Lamas, 'said the banker, 'your mathematics are better than mine. ' 'Oh, not atall, ' replied we, with a profound bow; 'your souan-pan is excellent;but who ever heard of a calculator always exempt from error?' Thesephrases were, it seems, rigorously required under the circumstances byChinese politeness. Whenever any person in China is compromised by anyawkward incident, those present always carefully refrain from anyobservation which may make him blush, or, as the Chinese call it, takeaway his face. A further proof of Chinese cupidity was afforded by theadmission of a gentleman, whom we may take the liberty of denominatingan Oriental bagman. This worthy arrived at an inn after our travellershad secured all the accommodation. 

'Peace and happiness unto you, Sirs Lamas; do you need the whole ofyour room, or can you accommodate me?'

'Why not? We are all brothers, and should serve each other. '

'Words of excellence! You are Tartars, I am Chinese; yet comprehendingthe claims of hospitality, you act upon the truth that all men arebrothers. '

'Whither are you bound? Are you going to buy up salt or catsup forsome Chinese company?'

'No; I represent a great commercial house at Peking, and I amcollecting some debts from the Tartars. . . . You, like myself, areTartar-eaters--you eat them by prayers, I by commerce. And why not?The Mongols are poor simpletons, and we may as well get their money asanybody else. . . . Oh, we devour them; we pick them clean! Whatever theysee, when they come into our towns, they want; and when we know whothey are, and where we can find them, we let them have goods uponcredit of course at a considerable advance upon the price, and uponinterest at 30 and 40 per cent. , which is quite right and necessary. In China, the emperor's laws do not allow this; it is only done withthe Tartars. Well, they don't pay the money, and the interest goes onuntil there is a good sum owing, worth the coming for. When we comefor it, we take all the cattle and sheep and horses we can get hold offor the interest, and leave the capital debt and future interest to bepaid next time, and so it goes on from one generation to another. Oh, a Tartar debt is a gold-mine!'

The yearly settlement of accounts amongst the Chinese furnishesanother curious chapter in their commercial life. Bills are made up tothe last few days of the year, 'and every Chinese being at once debtorand creditor, every Chinese is hunting his debtors and hunted by hiscreditors. He who returns from his neighbour's house, which he hasbeen throwing into utter confusion by his clamorous demands for whatthe neighbour owes him, finds his own house turned inside out by anuproarious creditor; and so the thing goes round. The whole town is ascene of vociferation, disputation, and fighting. On the last day ofthe year, disorder attains its height; people rush in all directionswith anything they can scratch together to raise money upon at thebroker's or pawnbroker's--the shops of which tradesmen are absolutelybesieged throughout the day with profferers of clothes, bedding, furniture, cooking utensils, and movables of every description. Thosewho have already cleared their houses in this way, and yet have notsatisfied the demands upon them, post off to their relations andfriends, to borrow something or other, which they vow shall bereturned immediately, but which immediately takes its way to the_tang-pon_ or pawnbroker's. This species of anarchy continues tillmidnight, then calm resumes its sway. No one, after the twelfth hourhas struck, can claim a debt, or even make the slightest allusion toit. You now only hear the words of peace and good-will; everybodyfraternises with everybody. Those who were just before on the point oftwisting their neighbour's neck, now twine their friendly arms aboutit. '

Tartar warriors and Tartar robbers are also peculiar of their kind. The warrior presents a curious combination of the national simplicitywith the spirit of the ancient Gascon. Two of those military gentlemengave a singular account of the war with the _Rebels of the South_, asthe English are designated. They belonged to the Eight Banners, orarmy of reserve--and stated, that when at war the grand-master (theemperor of China) first sent the Kitats against the enemy; next thebanners of the Solon country are set in motion; and if they fail, then'we (the Tchakars) take the field, and the mere sound of our marchsuffices to reduce the rebels to subjection!' In the English war, thefirst two classes availed not, and then came the turn of the sacredorder. 'The Kitats told us everywhere that we were marching uponcertain and unavailing death. "What can you do against sea-monsters?They live in the water like fish: when you least expect them, theyappear on the surface, and hurl the fire-bombs at you; while theinstant your bow is bent to shoot them, down they dive like frogs. "'The third class was not to be intimidated; the lamas had opened the_Book of Celestial Secrets_, and predicted victory; and on theymarched, till met with the intelligence that the rebels, hearing ofthe approach of this invincible legion, had sued for and obtainedpeace!

The robbers of this extraordinary territory are also entitled to claimcredit for their share of eccentricity. 'They are extremely polite;they do not rudely clap a pistol to your ear, and bawl at you: "Yourmoney or your life!" No; they mildly advance with a courteoussalutation: "Venerable elder brother, I am on foot; pray lend me yourhorse. I've got no money; be good enough to lend me your purse. It'squite cold to-day; oblige me with the loan of your coat. " If thevenerable elder brother charitably complies, the matter ends with:"Thanks, brother!" but otherwise, the request is forthwith emphasisedwith the arguments of a cudgel; and if these do not convince, recourseis had to the sabre. '

As a matter of course, Chinese thieves belong in contrast to thespecies of which the 'Artful Dodger' may be regarded as the type. The_modus operandi_ of Eastern appropriators is this: 'Two of them, associated together for the purpose, hawk about various articles ofmerchandise--boots, skin-coats, bricks of tea, and what not. Theyoffer these for sale to travellers. While one of them engages theattention of the destined victim by displaying his goods andbargaining, the other ferrets about, and pockets whatever he can layhis hands on. These rascals have inconceivable skill in counting yoursapeks for you, in such a way as to finger fifty or one hundred ofthem without your having the slightest notion as to what is going on. One day, two of these little thieves came to offer for our purchase apair of leathern boots. Excellent boots, said they--boots such as wewould not find in any shop in the whole town; boots that would keepout the rain for days; and as to cheapness, perfectly unexampled. Ifwe missed this opportunity, we should never have such another. Onlyjust before they had been offered 1200 sapeks for them! As we did notwant boots, we replied that we could not have them at any price. Thereupon the acting merchant assumed a lofty tone of generosity. Wewere foreigners, we should have them for 1000 sapeks, 900, 800, 700. "Well, " said we, "we certainly don't want any boots just now; yetdoubtless, as you say, these are very cheap, and it will be worthwhile to buy them as a reserve. " The bargain was accordinglyconcluded; we took our purse and counted out 700 sapeks to themerchant, who counted them over himself, under our very eyes, pronounced the amount correct, and once more laid the coin before us. He then called out to his companion, who was poking about in thecourt-yard: "Here, I have sold these capital boots for 700 sapeks. ""Nonsense, " cried the other; "700 sapeks! I wont hear of such athing!" "Very well, " said we; "come, take your boots, and be off withyou!" He was off, and so quickly, that we thought it expedient tocount our sapeks once more: there were 150 of them gone; and that wasnot all. While one of these rascals had been pocketing our money underour very nose, the other had bagged two great iron pins that we haddriven into the court-yard for the purpose of our camels. Therefore, we took a resolution, better late than never, to admit in future nomerchant whatever into our room. '

We cannot sufficiently regret, that two travellers who have furnishedus with such interesting accounts of territories comparatively solittle unexplored, should, after a brief sojourn, have been compelledto quit the scene of their labours. After eighteen months' travel, Messrs Huc and Gabet arrived at the Thibetian town of Lha-Ssa, where, under the protection of the local authorities, they remainedunmolested for several weeks; but their presence excited the jealousyof Ki-Chan, the deputy of the emperor of China, and at his instigationthe nomekhan of Lha-Ssa ordered them to quit. They ultimately settledat Macao in 1846, and there compiled the narrative from which we havebeen quoting. 

FOOTNOTES:

[3] _Travels in Tartary, Thibet, and China, during the years1844-5-6. _ By M. Huc. Translated by W. Hazlitt. London. (NationalIllustrated Library. )

A DAINTY DISH. 

Among the variety of curious insects which are common to tropicalclimates, the groogroo worms of the West Indies may be consideredparticularly interesting. From the peculiar manner in which they areproduced, and from the circumstance of their constituting a choicearticle of food for man, they become entitled to some attention. 

The groogroo worm--so called because it is found in a species of palmvulgarly called the groogroo--is the larva of a large-sized beetle, the _Prionus_, which is peculiar to the warm latitudes of America. With the exception of a slight similarity about the region of thehead, the worm bears no resemblance to the parent beetle. Whenfull-grown, it is about 3-1/2 inches in length, having the body largeand turgid, and increasing in circumference from the head towards theopposite extremity. The head is of a corneous, opaque substance. Ithas neither eyes nor the rudiments of the antennæ which distinguishthe beetle tribe. It is, however, provided with the mandibles andother oral apparatus of the mandibulate group of insects, and it isonly in this feature that any connection with the beetle can betraced. The trunk is precisely that of a worm; it consists of manyclosely-knitted segments, which are possessed of an extraordinarycontractile power. It bears no mark which would indicate a futuremetamorphosis into a beetle. There is no sign of a future divisioninto thorax and abdomen. There are no rudiments of wings or feet, asthe under surface of the body presents exactly the same appearances asthe upper. At the posterior extremity of the worm, however, there is asmall horny termination, something like the hinder part of a leech. The organs are exceedingly simple, the digestive being the mostdeveloped. Albumen is the substance which composes its body, and itsblood is of a greenish tint. With a motion similar to that of theearthworm, it perforates with extraordinary rapidity into thesubstance of the tree in which it is found. 

When the moon is at her full, the gatherer of worms enters aneighbouring wood, and selects a young _palmiste_ tree. This is a treeof the palm order, exceedingly stately and graceful, growing sometimesto the extraordinary height of eighty feet. From the roots upwards, ithas not a single branch or shrubby excrescence, but grows beautifullysmooth and straight, tapering towards the top. At its top, anabundance of the richest and most beautiful leaves spread out ingraceful symmetry, and bend down on all sides, forming a figure likean umbrella; while the young leaf, still firm and compact in itsfoliar envelope, is seen standing erect in the centre of this foliage, like a lightning-conductor. 

When a promising palmiste is found, the gatherer makes an incisioninto it with a cutlass or a hatchet. This incision is generally in thefigure of a half-moon, with the base of the semicircle downwards, andthe wound increasing in depth in that direction, so as to exposeeffectually the flesh of the tree. When this is done, the gatherermarks the locality, and leaves the tree, which he does not revisit fora considerable time. When the moon is in her wane, he returns andexamines his palmiste. If the young leaf, together with the others, begins to shew a yellow tinge at its extremity, and if, on applicationof his ear to the trunk, a hollow, rumbling noise is heard within, heconcludes that the worms have attacked the vital parts, and the treeis immediately cut down; but if these symptoms are absent, the tree isleft standing until they appear. The gatherer, however, must now visitthe tree frequently, because the transition of the insects is sorapid, that almost immediately after the appearance of the yellowtinge the whole would disappear. When the tree is felled, a squareportion of the bark is cut out longitudinally from the originalincision upwards, and its fibrous texture laid open. Myriads of wormsare then seen voraciously devouring their way through the substance. In capturing them some degree of dexterity is necessary, both toprotect one's self from the mandibles of the insects, which inflict apainful bite, and also to save time, by preventing them from burrowingout of sight. When the worms are taken, they are placed into a closevessel, where they continue to retain their activity and vigour. 

The number that can be procured from a single tree, depends altogetherupon the season in which it is wounded. If the moon is at her full, they are generally numerous and good--many thousands being found in anordinary young tree of 25 feet in height. If a few succeed in eludingthe gatherer, they do so only to become a prey of as voraciousanimals, for the wild hogs, or _quencos_, of the forest relish muchthe soft substance of the palmiste when in a state of decomposition. It never happens, therefore, that much time passes before theydiscover any palmiste-tree that has been felled; and as soon as nightsets in, they flock in numbers to the spot and devour the wholesubstance. A gathering of worms, therefore, brings a hunt of quencos;and the gatherer, when his first business is over, chooses aconvenient tree, where he places himself in ambush. Seated on a crossbranch, he awaits the coming of the animals. 

It is difficult to form an idea of the peculiar excitement of thismidnight sport in the thick woods of a tropical country. The usualstillness of the night, and the solitude of the wilderness--thecroaking of the night-birds, the movement of every leaf, animated asit is by the myriads of nocturnal insects that fill theatmosphere--the brilliant and fleeting fire-flies traversing thegloom--the strange animals wandering in their nightly prowlings--theapproach of the grunting hogs, and the incidents of the hunt: allthese things, combined with the idea of isolation when a man findshimself alone in the wilds of a scarcely pervious forest, create aninexpressible feeling of mingled fear, pleasure, and anxiety. 

Before the worms are cooked, they are, each in its turn, carefullypricked with an orange-thorn, and thrown into a vessel containing asauce of lime-juice and salt. This is for the purpose of cleansingthem from the viscid fluids they may have imbibed from the palmiste. Notwithstanding this discipline, the worms retain their vitality tillthey are deprived of it by the culinary process. The simpler mode ofdressing them is to spit a number together on a piece of stick or along orange-thorn, and roast them before the fire in their own fat. The general mode, however, is by frying them with or without a sauce, and when dressed in this manner, they form a most savoury dish. 

Groogroo worms are considered great delicacies in some parts of theWest Indies, chiefly in those whose inhabitants are of French orSpanish origin. The good old planter at his table presents you with adish of worms, with as much pride as an epicure in England introducesyou to cod-sounds, eels, or high venison. Nor does it appear thatthere is any peculiarity in the taste of those who relish the insects;because it very frequently happens, that the stranger, who manifestedon his arrival the greatest disgust at the idea of eating worms, becomes immediately converted into an extravagant lover of them. 

It may appear strange, that in the tropics, especially, where natureprovides so abundantly for the wants of man, such creatures should beresorted to as articles of consumption; but while we on this side ofthe Atlantic are shocked at the idea of eating worms, the West Indianconsumer in his turn expresses surprise that human beings can usethings which resemble snakes so much as eels, and pronounces it to bethe height of uncleanness to eat frogs, as some of the continentalsdo. Indeed, the groogroo worm is by no means more repulsive inappearance than any of the other unprepossessing creatures which areso highly prized. It would be a difficult matter to decide on themerits of the many extraordinary things which the taste of man, in itsmorbid cravings, has discovered and converted into luxurious use; andthe philosopher finds himself at last driven to take shelter from hisown unanswerable inquiries behind the concluding power of that mosttrue, but somewhat musty proverb: 'De gustibus non est disputandum. '

GRATITUDE OF THE COUNTRY FOR STEAM COMMUNICATION. 

Mr Patrick Miller of Dalswinton, who first experimented in theapplication of steam to navigation, never received any mark ofgratitude from his country; his family, though long in comparativelyreduced circumstances, remain to this day equally without requital onthat account. Henry Bell, who, taking his ideas from Mr Miller'sexperimental boat, first set a steam-vessel afloat in this country, spent his latter years in poverty, from which he was rescued only ashort time before his death by a small pension from the ClydeTrustees. Mr Thomas Gray, whose Observations on Railways, publishedabout thirty years ago, may be said to have given origin and impulseto our present railway system, by which three hundred millions havebeen expended, died in poverty, to which he had been reduced by hisexertions in the cause; his widow and children are at this day in thatstate, without any public acknowledgment of his services to thecountry; and his son has lately applied to nearly every railwaycompany in the kingdom for a situation, but in vain. Beyond a pensionof L. 50 a year to the widow of Mr James Taylor, who prompted Mr Millerto try his experiments, we are not aware of a single penny having beenexpended by the country in requiting the services, or compensating thelosses, of individuals in respect of steam communications of any kind. 

A DREAM OF RESURRECTION. 

 So heavenly beautiful it lay, It was less like a human corse Than that fair shape in which perforce A dead hope clothes itself alway. 

 The dream shewed very plain: the bed Where that known unknown face reposed-- A woman's face with eyelids closed, A something precious that was dead:

 A something, lost on this side life, By which the mourner came and stood, And laid down, ne'er to be renewed, All glittering robes of earthly strife;--

 Shred off, like votive locks of hair, Youth's ornaments of joy and strength, And cast them in their golden length The silence of that bier to share. 

 No tears fell--but a gaze, fixed, long, That memory might print the face On the heart's ever-vacant space With a sun-finger, sharp and strong. 

 Then kisses, dropping without sound; And solemn arms wound round the dead; And lifting from the natural bed Into the coffin's strange _new_ bound;

 Yet still no parting--no belief In death; no more than we believe In some dread falsehood that would weave The world in one black shroud of grief. 

 And still, unanswered kisses; still, Warm clingings to the image cold, With an impossible faith's close fold, Creative, through its fierce '_I will_. '

 Hush, hush! the marble eyelids move; The kissed lips quiver into breath; Avaunt, thou ghastly-seeming Death! Avaunt! We are conquerors--I and Love!

 Corse of dead hope, awake, arise! A living hope, that only slept Until the tears thus overwept Had washed the blindness from our eyes. 

 Come back into the upper day! Dash off those cerements! Patient shroud, We'll wrap thee as a garment proud Round the bright shape we thought was clay. 

 Clasp, arms! Cling, soul! Eyes, drink anew, Like pilgrims at a living spring! Faith, that out-loved this perishing, May see this resurrection too. 

 * * * * *

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