CHAMBERS' EDINBURGH JOURNAL

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

NO. 428. NEW SERIES. SATURDAY, MARCH 13, 1852. PRICE 1½ _d. _

THE DINNER-BELL. 

In one of Webster's magnificent speeches, he remarks that so vast arethe possessions of England, that her morning drum-beat, following thesun and keeping company with the hours, circles the earth daily with onecontinuous and unbroken strain of its martial airs. There is anothermusical sound, within the British islands themselves, which does not asyet quite traverse the whole horary circle, but bids fair to do so inthe course of time, and to this we would direct the attention of theAmerican secretary, as a fitting subject for a new peroration. We alludeto the Dinner-bell. At noon, in the rural districts of England, thischarming sound is heard tinkling melodiously from farm or villagefactory; at one, in the more crowded haunts of industry, the strain istaken up ere it dies; and by the time it reaches Scotland, a full hungrypeal swells forth at two. At three till past four there is a continuousring from house to house of the small country gentry; and at five thisbecomes more distinct and sonorous in the towns, increasing inimportance till six. From that time till seven and half-past, it waxesmore and more fashionable in the tone, till at eight it stops abruptly:not like an air brought to a conclusion, but like one broken offaccidentally, to be by and by resumed. 

The dinner hours of the labouring-class are no doubt regulated accordingto business, and perhaps receive some modification from nationalcharacter. An Englishman, for instance, is said to work best after hismeal, and accordingly his dinner makes its appearance sometimes as earlyas noon, but never later than one; while a Scotchman, who is fit foranything when half-starved, is very properly kept without solid foodtill two o'clock. As for the smaller gentry, who scorn to dine atworkmen's hours, and yet do not pretend to the abnegation of the great, they may follow their own fancy without doing any harm to others; butthe case is different as regards the hours assigned to _dinner-parties_, for these affect the health and comfort of the whole body of the gentrytogether. 

We are no enemy to dinner-parties; on the contrary, we think we have notenough of them, and we never shall have enough, till some change takesplace in their constitution. We are a small gentleman ourselves, whodine at the modest hour of four, and what is the use to us of a six orseven o'clock invitation? We accept it, of course, being sociallydisposed, and being, moreover, philosopher enough to see that suchmeetings are good for men in society: but so far as the meal itselfgoes, it is to us either useless or disagreeable. If we have dinedalready, we do not want another dinner; and if we have not dined, ourappetite is lost from sheer want. It is vain to say, Let us all dinehabitually at six--seven--eight o'clock. Few of us will--few of uscan--none of us ought. Nature demands a solid meal at a much earlierhour; and true refinement suggests that the object of the eveningreunion should not be the satisfaction of the day's hunger. Only half ofthis fact is seen by the classes who give the law to fashion, and thathalf consists of the grosser and coarser necessity. They have already, more especially at their country seats, taken to the tiffin of the East, and at a reasonable hour make a regular dinner of hot meats, and all theusual accessories, under the name of lunch. So complete is this meal, that the ladies, led away no doubt by association, meet some hoursafterwards in mysterious conclave, to drink what our ancestors called 'adish of tea;' and having thus diluted the juices of their stomachs forthe reception of another supply of heavy food, they descend to dinner!

The evening dinner is, therefore, a mere show-dinner, or somethingworse. But it is still more objectionable on the score of taste than onthe score of health. We find no fault with the elegances of the table, in plate, crystal, china, and so forth; but an English dinner is not anelegant meal. The guests are supposed, by a _polite_ fiction, to havethe hunger of the whole day to satisfy, and provision is madeaccordingly. Varieties of soup, fish, flesh, fowl, game, rich-madedishes, load the board spread for a group of well-dressed men and women, known to have already dined, and who would affect to shudder at so heavya meal, if it was termed supper. There is a grossness in thisarrangement which is strangely at variance with the real advancement ofthe age in refinement; but it has likewise a paralysing effect both uponthe freedom and delicacy of social intercourse. These show-dinners aretoo costly to be numerous. Even a comparatively wealthy man is compelledto look closely to the number of his entertainments. He scrutinises theclaims of his acquaintance; he keeps a debtor and creditor account ofdinners with them; and if now and then he invites a guest for the sakeof his social qualities, he sets him down in the bill of cost. This doesaway with all the finer social feelings which it should be the provinceof such meetings to foster and gratify, and adds a tone of moralvulgarity to the material vulgarity of the repast. 

Is it impossible to bring about a reform in this important matter?Difficult, not impossible. Dinner-giving is not an integral part of themonarchy, and it might therefore be touched--if not too rudely--withouta political revolution. The grand obstacle would be the unsettledclaims. A has given B a show-dinner, and it is the duty of B to returnit. Invitation for invitation is the law of the game. How, then, standsthe account? Would it be necessary to institute a dinner-insolvencycourt, where all defaulters might take the benefit of the act? We thinknot. No creditor in his senses would refuse a handsome composition; andif it could be shewn--as it might in the present case--that thecomposition was in real, though not ostensible value, equivalent to thedebt, hesitation would vanish. Before proceeding to shew this, we shallpresent what may be called the common-sense statement of the wholecase:--

Mankind in their natural state dine at noon, or at least in the middleof the working-day. It is the middle meal of the day--the central ofthree. In our artificial system of society, it has been postponed to alate hour of the afternoon, so as either to become the second of twomeals, or, where lunch is taken, the third of three. The change is notconsistent with hygienic principle; for, if lunch be not taken, theinterval between breakfast and dinner is too great, and in that casehunger tempts to make the meal too heavy for the exhausted powers of thestomach: if, on the contrary, lunch be taken, dinner becomes anabsurdity, as in that case a meal so elaborate and heavy is notrequired, and cannot healthfully be partaken of at so late an hour. Nevertheless, in a plan of life which devotes the eight or nine hoursafter breakfast either to business or to out-door amusements, it isneedless to think of reviving the old meridian dinner for any but ladiesand other stay-at-home people; nor even for them, seeing that they mustbe mainly determined in their arrangements by those leading members ofthe family who have to spend that part of the day away from home. 

There is a need for some reform which would at once accommodate thebusy, and save the multitude from the disadvantages of heavysix-and-seven-o'clock dinners. This might be effected by arranging foronly a supper at six or seven o'clock--that is, some lighter meal thandinner--leaving every one to take such a lunch in the middle of the dayas he could find an opportunity of eating. Let this supper be the mealof family reunions--the meal of society. Composed of a few lighttasteful dishes, accompanied by other indulgences, according to taste orinclination, and followed by coffee, it would be a cheerful and notnecessarily unhealthful affair. As a meal to which to invite friends, being cheaper, it would allow of more society being indulged in than iscompatible with the monstrous presentments of meat and drink whichconstitute the modern company dinner. It would be practically a revivalof those nice supper-parties which our grandfathers indulged in afterthe hours of business, and of the pleasantness of which we have suchglowing accounts. 

That this is really the common-sense view of the question, can hardly bedoubted. By bringing the cost within reasonable limits, the planproposed relieves the entertainment from moral vulgarity; and byavoiding all suggestion of a meeting for the gratification of merephysical hunger, it relieves it from material vulgarity. We have laughedtoo heartily at the dinner of the ancients in 'Peregrine Pickle, ' towish to lead back the age to a classic model; and yet on all subjectsconnected with taste, there are some things to be learned from thatpeople whose formative genius is still the wonder of the world. The mealof society among the Greeks consisted of only two courses, or, to speakmore strictly, of one course and a dessert; and the first or solidcourse was in all probability made up of small portions of each kind offood. The more vulgar Romans added in all cases a third, butoccasionally a fourth, fifth, sixth, even a seventh course; and at thefall of the empire, barbarian taste uniting with the _blasé_ luxury ofRome, heaped viand upon viand, and course upon course, till the satireof a later poet became mere common-place:--

 'Is this a dinner, this a genial room? No; 'tis a temple, and a hecatomb!'

This extravagance has gradually given way in the course of civilisation. We have no more meals consisting of a score of courses; no more gildedpigs, fish, and poultry; no more soups, each of three or four differentcolours: but as yet we are only in the midst of the transition, and havenot got back even to the comparative refinement of the Greeks. At theend of their first course, the more earthly part of the entertainmentwas already over. Then the guests washed their hands; then they werepresented with perfumes and garlands of flowers; and then they drankwine, accompanied with the singing of the pæan and the sound of flutes. Such adjuncts, with us, would for the most part be out of place andtime; but some of them might be taken metaphorically, and othersentirely changed--such as the libation to the gods--to suit a newreligious feeling, and a new form of manners. The modern _coena_ mightthus be made to surpass that of the ancients in refinement and elegance;and it would include, as a matter of course, some of theamusements--varying from a song to a philosophical discussion--whichgave the charm to their symposia. 

As for the symposium, we shall have nothing to do with that vexedsubject, further than just to hint--for we should be loath to excludefrom the benefit of our proposed reform a certain numerous andrespectable class of the community--that in ancient times it had nonecessary connection with the dinner at all. A little wine-and-water wasdrunk during the dessert--never during the first course--and then themeal was over. The symposium was literally a drinking-party, given, forthe sake of convenience, after the dinner-party; but so far from forminga part of the latter, the guests were sometimes different. It was, infact, in this respect, like the evening company we occasionally findassembled in the drawing-room on getting up from our show-dinners. 

But such references to the customs of bygone ages are introduced merelyto shew, that among the most accomplished people of history, the socialmeal was looked upon as a field for the display of taste, not of thatbarbarian magnificence which consists in quantity and cost. The coena ofthe moderns should far excel that of the Greeks in elegance, refinement, and simplicity. We have all history for our teacher; we have a finersystem of morals; we have a purer and holier religion; and acorresponding influence should be felt in our social manners. When theobject of the feast is no longer the satisfaction of mere physicalhunger, it should be something intended to minister to the appetites ofthe mind. When the dinner is no longer the chief thing, some troublewill doubtless be taken with the assortment of the company. Simultaneously with the business of eating and drinking, we shall haveanecdote, jest, song, music, smiles, and laughter, to make us forgetthe business or troubles of the day; and in the morning, instead ofarranging our debtor and creditor account of invitations, we shall throwin the evening's gratification to strike the balance, and then makehaste to begin a new score. 

TWO KINDS OF HONESTY. 

Some few years ago, there resided in Long Acre an eccentric old Jew, named Jacob Benjamin: he kept a seed shop, in which he likewise carriedon--not a common thing, we believe, in London--the sale of meal, and hadrisen from the lowest dregs of poverty, by industry and self-denial, till he grew to be an affluent tradesman. He was, indeed, a rich man;for as he had neither wife nor child to spend his money, nor kith norkin to borrow it of him, he had a great deal more than he knew what todo with. Lavish it on himself he could not, for his early habits stuckto him, and his wants were few. He was always clean and decent in hisdress, but he had no taste for elegance or splendour in any form, norhad even the pleasures of the table any charms for him; so that, thoughhe was no miser, his money kept on accumulating, whilst it occurred tohim now and then to wonder what he should do with it hereafter. Onewould think he need not have wondered long, when there were so manypeople suffering from the want of what he abounded in; but Mr Benjamin, honest man, had his crotchets like other folks. In the first place, hehad less sympathy with poverty than might have been expected, considering how poor he had once been himself; but he had a theory, justin the main, though by no means without its exceptions--that theindigent have generally themselves to thank for their privations. Judging from his own experience, he believed that there was bread foreverybody that would take the trouble of earning it; and as he had hadlittle difficulty in resisting temptation himself, and was notphilosopher enough to allow for the varieties of human character, he hadsmall compassion for those who injured their prospects by yielding toit. Then he had found, on more than one occasion, that even to theapparently well-doing, assistance was not always serviceable. Endeavourwas relaxed, and gratuities, once received, were looked for again. Doubtless, part of this evil result was to be sought in Mr Benjamin'sown defective mode of proceeding; but I repeat, he was no philosopher, and in matters of this sort he did not see much farther than his nose, which was, however, a very long one. 

To public charities he sometimes subscribed liberally; but his hand wasfrequently withheld by a doubt regarding the judicious expenditure ofthe funds, and this doubt was especially fortified after chancing to seeone day, as he was passing the Crown and Anchor Tavern, a concourse ofgentlemen turn out, with very flushed faces, who had been diningtogether for the benefit of some savages in the Southern Pacific Ocean, accused of devouring human flesh--a practice so abhorrent to MrBenjamin, that he had subscribed for their conversion. But failing toperceive the connection betwixt the dinner and that desirableconsummation, his name appeared henceforth less frequently in printedlists, and he felt more uncertain than before as to what branch ofunknown posterity he should bequeath his fortune. 

In the meantime, he kept on the even tenor of his way, standing behindhis counter, and serving his customers, assisted by a young woman calledLeah Leet, who acted as his shopwoman, and in whom, on the whole, hefelt more interest than in anybody else in the world, insomuch that iteven sometimes glanced across his mind, whether he should not make herthe heiress of all his wealth. He never, however, gave her the leastreason to expect such a thing, being himself incapable of conceiving, that if he entertained the notion, he ought to prepare her by educationfor the good-fortune that awaited her. But he neither perceived thisnecessity, nor, if he had, would he have liked to lose the services of aperson he had been so long accustomed to. 

At length, one day a new idea struck him. He had been reading the storyof his namesake, Benjamin, in the Old Testament, and the questionoccurred to him, how many amongst his purchasers of the poorerclass--and all who came to his shop personally were of that class--wouldbring back a piece of money they might find amongst their meal, and hethought he should like to try a few of them that were his regularcustomers. The experiment would amuse his mind, and the money he mightlose by it he did not care for. So he began with shillings, slipping onein amongst the flour before he handed it to the purchaser. But theshillings never came back--perhaps people did not think so small a sumworth returning; so he went on to half-crowns and crowns, and now andthen, in very particular cases, he even ventured a guinea; but it wasalways with the same luck, and the longer he tried, the more hedistrusted there being any honesty in the world, and the more disposedhe felt to leave all his money to Leah Leet, who had lived with him solong, and to his belief, had never wronged him of a penny. 

 * * * * *

'What's this you have put into the gruel, Mary?' said a pale, sickly-looking man one evening, taking something out of his mouth, whichhe held towards the feeble gleams emitted by a farthing rush-lightstanding on the mantel-piece. 

'What is it, father?' inquired a young girl, approaching him. 'Isn't thegruel good?'

'It's good enough, ' replied the man; 'but here's something in it: it's ashilling, I believe. '

'It's a guinea, I declare!' exclaimed the girl, as she took the coinfrom him and examined it nearer the light. 

'A guinea!' repeated the man; 'well, that's the first bit of luck I'vehad these seven years or more. It never could have come when we wantedit worse. Shew it us here, Mary. '

'But it's not ours, father, ' said Mary. 'I paid away the last shillingwe had for the meal, and here's the change. '

'God has sent it us, girl! He saw our distress, and he sent it us in Hismercy!' said the man, grasping the piece of gold with his thin, bonyfingers. 

'It must be Mr Benjamin's, ' returned she. 'He must have dropped it intothe meal-tub that stands by the counter. '

'How do you know that?' inquired the man with an impatient tone and ahalf-angry glance. 'How can you tell how it came into the gruel? Perhapsit was lying at the bottom of the basin, or at the bottom of thesauce-pan. Most likely it was. '

'O no, father, ' said Mary: 'it is long since we had a guinea. '

'A guinea that we knew of; but I've had plenty in my time, and how doyou know this is not one we had overlooked?'

'We've wanted a guinea too much to overlook one, ' answered she. 'Butnever mind, father; eat your gruel, and don't think of it: your cheeksare getting quite red with talking so, and you won't be able to sleepwhen you go to bed. '

'I don't expect to sleep, ' said the man peevishly; 'I never do sleep. '

'I think you will, after that nice gruel!' said Mary, throwing her armsround his neck, and tenderly kissing his cheek. 

'And a guinea in it to give it a relish too!' returned the father, witha faint smile and an expression of archness, betokening an inner naturevery different from the exterior which sorrow and poverty had incrustedon it. 

His daughter then proposed that he should go to bed; and having assistedhim to undress, and arranged her little household matters, she retiredbehind a tattered, drab-coloured curtain which shaded her own mattress, and laid herself down to rest. 

The apartment in which this little scene occurred, was on the atticstorey of a mean house, situated in one of the narrow courts or alleysbetwixt the Strand and Drury Lane. The furniture it contained was of thepoorest description; the cracked window-panes were coated with dust; andthe scanty fire in the grate, although the evening was cold enough tomake a large one desirable--all combined to testify to the poverty ofthe inhabitants. It was a sorry retreat for declining years andsickness, and a sad and cheerless home for the fresh cheek and gladhopes of youth; and all the worse, that neither father nor daughter was'to the manner born;' for poor John Glegg had, as he said, had plenty ofguineas in his time; at least, what should have been plenty, had theybeen wisely husbanded. But John, to describe the thing as he saw ithimself, had always 'had luck against him. ' It did not signify what heundertook, his undertakings invariably turned out ill. 

He was born in Scotland, and had passed a great portion of his lifethere; but, unfortunately for him, he had no Scotch blood in his veins, or he might have been blessed with some small modicum of the caution forwhich that nation is said to be distinguished. His father had been acooper, and when quite a young man, John had succeeded to awell-established business in Aberdeen. His principal commerce consistedin furnishing the retail-dealers with casks, wherein to pack their driedfish; but partly from good-nature, and partly from indolence, he allowedthem to run such long accounts, that they were apt to overlook the debtaltogether in their calculations, and to take refuge in bankruptcy whenthe demand was pressed and the supply of goods withheld--his negligencethus proving, in its results, as injurious to them as to himself. Fivehundred pounds embarked in a scheme projected by a too sanguine friend, for establishing a local newspaper, which 'died ere it was born;' and afire, occurring at a time that John had omitted to renew his insurance, had seriously damaged his resources, when some matter of business havingtaken him to the Isle of Man, he was agreeably surprised to find thathis branch of trade, which had of late years been alarmingly decliningin Aberdeen, was there in the most flourishing condition. Delighted withthe prospect this state of affairs opened, and eager to quit the spotwhere misfortune had so unrelentingly pursued him, John, having firstsecured a house at Ramsay, returned to fetch his wife, children, andmerchandise, to this new home. Having freighted a small vessel for theirconveyance, he expected to be deposited at his own door; but he hadunhappily forgotten to ascertain the character of the captain, who, under pretence that, if he entered the harbour, he should probably bewind-bound for several weeks, persuaded them to go ashore in a smallboat, promising to lie to till they had landed their goods; but the boathad no sooner returned to the ship, than, spreading his sails to thewind, he was soon out of sight, leaving John and his family on thebeach, with--to recur to his own phraseology--'nothing but what theystood up in. '

Having with some difficulty found shelter for the night, they proceededon the following morning in a boat to Ramsay; but here it was foundthat, owing to some informality, the people who had possession of thehouse refused to give it up, and the wanderers were obliged to takerefuge in an inn. The next thing was to pursue, and recover the lostgoods; but some weeks elapsed before an opportunity of doing so could befound; and at length, when John did reach Liverpool, the captain hadleft it, carrying away with him a considerable share of the property. With the remainder, John, after many expenses and delays, returned tothe island, and resumed his business. But he soon discovered to hiscost, that the calculations he had made were quite fallacious, owing tohis having neglected to inquire whether the late prosperous season hadbeen a normal or an exceptional one. Unfortunately, it was the latter;and several very unfavourable ones that succeeded, reduced the family togreat distress, and finally to utter ruin. 

Relinquishing his shop and his goods to his creditors, John Glegg, heart-sick and weary, sought a refuge in London--a proceeding to whichhe was urged by no prudential motives, but rather by the desire to flyas far as possible from the scenes of his vexations and disappointments, and because he had heard that the metropolis was a place in which a manmight conceal his poverty, and suffer and starve at his ease, untroubledby impertinent curiosity or officious benevolence; and, above all, believing it to be the spot where he was least likely to fall in withany of his former acquaintance. 

But here a new calamity awaited him, worse than all the rest. A feverbroke out in the closely-populated neighbourhood in which they had fixedtheir abode, and first two of his three children took it, and died; andthen himself and his wife--rendered meet subjects for infection byanxiety of mind and poor living--were attacked with the disease. Herecovered; at least he survived, though with an enfeebled constitution, but he lost his wife, a wise and patient woman, who had been hiscomforter and sustainer through all his misfortunes--misfortunes which, after vainly endeavouring to avert, she supported with heroic anduncomplaining fortitude; but dying, she left him a precious legacy inMary, who, with a fine nature, and the benefit of her mother's preceptand example, had been to him ever since a treasure of filial duty andtenderness. 

A faint light dawned through the dirty window on the morning succeedingthe little event with which we opened our story, when Mary rose softlyfrom her humble couch, and stepping lightly to where her father'sclothes lay on a chair, at the foot of his bed, she put her hand intohis waistcoat-pocket, and, extracting therefrom the guinea which hadbeen found in the gruel the preceding evening, she transferred it to herown. She then dressed herself, and having ascertained that her fatherstill slept, she quietly left the room. The hour was yet so early, andthe streets so deserted, that Mary almost trembled to find herself inthem alone; but she was anxious to do what she considered her dutywithout the pain of contention. John Glegg was naturally an honest andwell-intentioned man, but the weakness that had blasted his life adheredto him still. They were doubtless in terrible need of the guinea, andsince it was not by any means certain that the real owner would befound, he saw no great harm in appropriating it; but Mary wasted nocasuistry on the matter. That the money was not legitimately theirs, andthat they had no right to retain it, was all she saw; and so seeing, sheacted unhesitatingly on her convictions. 

She had bought the meal at Mr Benjamin's, because her father complainedof the quality of that she procured in the smaller shops, and on thisoccasion he had served her himself. From the earliness of the hour, however, though the shop was open, he was not in it when she arrived onher errand of restitution; but addressing Leah Leet, who was dusting thecounter, she mentioned the circumstance, and tendered the guinea; whichthe other took and dropped into the till, without acknowledgment orremark. Now Mary had not restored the money with any view to praise orreward: the thought of either had not occurred to her; but she was, nevertheless, pained by the dry, cold, thankless manner with which therestitution was accepted, and she felt that a little civility would nothave been out of place on such an occasion. 

She was thinking of this on her way back, when she observed Mr Benjaminon the opposite side of the street. The fact was, that he did not sleepat the shop, but in one of the suburbs of the metropolis, and he was nowproceeding from his residence to Long Acre. When he caught her eye, hewas standing still on the pavement, and looking, as it appeared, at her, so she dropped him a courtesy, and walked forwards; while the old mansaid to himself: "That's the girl that got the guinea in her mealyesterday. I wonder if she has been to return it!"

It was Mary's pure, innocent, but dejected countenance, that had inducedhim to make her the subject of one of his most costly experiments. Hethought if there was such a thing as honesty in the world, that it wouldfind a fit refuge in that young bosom; and the early hour, and thedirection in which she was coming, led him to hope that he might sing_Eureka_ at last. When he entered the shop, Leah stood behind thecounter, as usual, looking very staid and demure; but all she saidwas, 'Good-morning;' and when he inquired if anybody had been there, shequietly answered: 'No; nobody. '

Mr Benjamin was confirmed in his axiom; but he consoled himself with theidea, that as the girl was doubtless very poor, the guinea might be ofsome use to her. In the meantime, Mary was boiling the gruel for herfather's breakfast, the only food she could afford him, till she got afew shillings that were owing to her for needle-work. 

'Well, father, dear, how are you this morning?'

'I scarce know, Mary. I've been dreaming; and it was so like reality, that I can hardly believe yet it was a dream;' and his eyes wanderedover the room, as if looking for something. 

'What is it, father? Do you want your breakfast? It will be ready infive minutes. '

'I've been dreaming of a roast fowl and a glass of Scotch ale. Mary, Ithought you came in with the fowl, and a bottle in your hand, and said:"See, father, this is what I've bought with the guinea we found in themeal!"'

'But I couldn't do that, father, you know. It wouldn't have been honestto spend other people's money. '

'Nonsense!' answered John. 'Whose money is it, I should like to know?What belongs to no one, we may as well claim as anybody else. '

'But it must belong to somebody; and, as I knew it was not ours, I'vecarried it back to Mr Benjamin. '

'You have?' said Glegg, sitting up in bed. 

'Yes, I have, father. Don't be angry. I'm sure you won't when you thinkbetter of it. '

But John _was_ very angry indeed. He was dreadfully disappointed atlosing the delicacies that his sick appetite hungered for, and which, hefancied, would do more to restore him than all the _doctors' stuff_ inLondon; and, so far, he was perhaps right. He bitterly reproached Maryfor want of sympathy with his sufferings, and was peevish and cross allday. At night, however, his better nature regained the ascendant; andwhen he saw the poor girl wipe the tears from her eyes, as her nimbleneedle flew through the seams of a shirt she was making for a cheapwarehouse in the Strand, his heart relented, and, holding out his hand, he drew her fondly towards him. 

'You're right, Mary, ' he said, 'and I'm wrong; but I'm not myself withthis long illness, and I often think if I had good food I should getwell, and be able to do something for myself. It falls hard upon you, mygirl; and often when I see you slaving to support my useless life, Iwish I was dead and out of the way; and then you could do very well foryourself, and I think that pretty face of yours would get you a husbandperhaps. ' And Mary flung her arms about his neck, and told him howwilling she was to work for him, and how forlorn she should be withouthim, and desired she might never hear any more of such wicked wishes. Still, she had an ardent desire to give him the fowl and the ale he hadlonged for, for his next Sunday's dinner; but, alas! she could notcompass it. But on that very Sunday, the one that succeeded these littleevents, Leah Leet appeared with a smart new bonnet and gown, at atea-party given by Mr Benjamin to three or four of his intimate friends. He was in the habit of giving such small inexpensive entertainments, andhe made it a point to invite Leah; partly because she made the tea forhim, and partly because he wished to keep her out of other society, lestshe should get married and leave him--a thing he much deprecated on allaccounts. She was accustomed to his business, he was accustomed to her, and, above all, she was so honest!

But there are various kinds of honesty. Mary Glegg's was of the puresort; it was such as nature and her mother had instilled into her: itwas the honesty of high principle. But Leah was honest, because she hadbeen taught that honesty is the best policy; and as she had her livingto earn, it was extremely necessary that she should be guided by theaxiom, or she might come to poverty and want bread, like others she saw, who lost good situations from failing in this particular. 

Now, after all, this is but a sandy foundation for honesty; because aperson who is not actuated by a higher motive, will naturally have noobjection to a little peculation in a safe way--that is, when they thinkthere is no possible chance of being found out. In short, such honestyis but a counterfeit, and, like all counterfeits, it will not stand thewear and tear of the genuine article. Such, however, was Leah's, who hadbeen bred up by worldly-wise teachers, who neither taught nor knew anybetter. Entirely ignorant of Mr Benjamin's eccentric method of seeking, what two thousand years ago Diogenes thought it worth while to look forwith a lantern, she considered that the guinea brought back by Mary wasa waif, which might be appropriated without the smallest danger of beingcalled to account for it. It had probably, she thought, been droppedinto the meal-tub by some careless customer, who would not know how hehad lost it; and, even if it were her master's, he must also be quiteignorant of the accident that had placed it where it was found. The girlwas a stranger in the shop; she had never been there till the daybefore, and might never be there again; and, if she were, it was notlikely she would speak to Mr Benjamin. So there could be no risk, as faras she could see; and the money came just apropos to purchase some newattire that the change of season rendered desirable. 

Many of us now alive can remember the beginning of what is called thesanitary movement, previous to which era, as nothing was said about thewretched dwellings of the poor, nobody thought of them, nor were the illconsequences of their dirty, crowded rooms, and bad ventilation at allappreciated. At length the idea struck somebody, who wrote a pamphletabout it, which the public did not read; but as the author sent it tothe newspaper editors, they borrowed the hint, and took up the subject, the importance of which, by slow degrees, penetrated the London mind. Now, amongst the sources of wealth possessed by Mr Benjamin were a greatmany houses, which, by having money at his command, he had bought cheapfrom those who could not afford to wait; and many of these were situatedin squalid neighbourhoods, and were inhabited by miserably poor people;but as these people did not fall under his eye, he had never thought ofthem--he had only thought of their rents, which he received with moreor less regularity through the hands of his agent. The sums due, however, were often deficient, for sometimes the tenants were unable topay them, because they were so sick they could not work; and sometimesthey died, leaving nothing behind them to seize for their debts. MrBenjamin had looked upon this evil as irremediable; but when he heard ofthe sanitary movement, it occurred to him, that if he did somethingtowards rendering his property more eligible and wholesome, he might lethis rooms to a better class of tenants, and that greater certainty ofpayment, together with a little higher rent, would remunerate him forthe expense of the cleaning and repairs. The idea being agreeable bothto his love of gain and his benevolence, he summoned his builder, andproposed that he should accompany him over these tenements, in orderthat they might agree as to what should be done, and calculate theoutlay; and the house inhabited by Glegg and his daughter happening tobe one of them, the old gentleman, in the natural course of events, found himself paying an unexpected visit to the unconscious subject ofhis last experiment; for the last it was, and so it was likely toremain, though three months had elapsed since he made it; but its illsuccess had discouraged him. There was something about Mary that soevidently distinguished her from his usual customers; she looked soinnocent, so modest, and withal so pretty, that he thought if he failedwith her, he was not likely to succeed with anybody else. 

'Who lives in the attics?' he inquired of Mr Harker, the builder, asthey were ascending the stairs. 

'There's a widow and her daughter and son-in-law, with three children, in the back-room, ' answered Mr Harker. 'I believe the women go outcharring, and the man's a bricklayer. In the front, there's a man calledGlegg and his daughter. I fancy they're people that have been better offat some time of their lives. He has been a tradesman--a cooper, he tellsme; but things went badly with him; and since he came here, his wifedied of the fever, and he's been so weakly ever since he had it, that hecan earn nothing. His daughter lives by her needle. '

Mary was out; she had gone to take home some work, in hopes of gettingimmediate payment for it. A couple of shillings would purchase them coaland food, and they were much in need of both. John was sitting by thescanty fire, with his daughter's shawl over his shoulders, looking wan, wasted, and desponding. 

'Mr Benjamin, the landlord, Mr Glegg, ' said Harker. 

John knew they owed a little rent, and was afraid they had come todemand it. 'I'm sorry my daughter's out, gentlemen, ' he said. 'Will yoube pleased to take a chair. '

'Mr Benjamin is going round his property, ' said Harker. 'He is proposingto make a few repairs, and do a little painting and whitewashing, tomake the rooms more airy and comfortable. '

'That will be a good thing, sir, ' answered Glegg--'a very good thing;for I believe it is the closeness of the place that makes us countryfolks ill when we come to London. I'm sure I've never had a day's healthsince I've lived here. '

'You've been very unlucky, indeed, Mr Glegg, ' said Harker. 'But youknow, if we lay out money, we shall look for a return. We must raiseyour rent. '

'Ah, sir, I suppose so, ' answered John with a sigh; 'and how we're topay it, I don't know. If I could only get well, I shouldn't mind; forI'd rather break stones on the road, or sweep a crossing, than see mypoor girl slaving from morning to night for such a pittance. '

'If we were to throw down this partition, and open another window here, 'said Harker to Mr Benjamin, 'it would make a comfortable apartment ofit. There would be room, then, for a bed in the recess. '

Mr Benjamin, however, was at that moment engaged in the contemplation ofan ill-painted portrait of a girl, that was attached by a pin over thechimney-piece. It was without a frame, for the respectable gilt one thathad formerly encircled it, had been taken off, and sold to buy bread. Nothing could be coarser than the execution of the thing, but as is notunfrequently the case with such productions, the likeness was striking;and Mr Benjamin, being now in the habit of seeing Mary, who bought allthe meal they used at his shop, recognised it at once. 

'That's your daughter, is it?' he said. 

'Yes, sir; she's often at your place for meal; and if it wasn't toogreat a liberty, I would ask you, sir, if you thought you could help herto some sort of employment that's better than sewing; for it's a hardlife, sir, in this close place for a young creature that was brought upin the free country air: not that Mary minds work, but the worst is, there's so little to be got by the needle, and it's such closeconfinement. '

Mr Benjamin's mind, during this address of poor Glegg's, was running onhis guinea. He felt a distrust of her honesty--or rather of the honestyof both father and daughter; and yet being far from a hard-heartedperson, their evident distress and the man's sickness disposed him tomake allowance for them. 'They couldn't know that the money belonged tome, ' thought he; adding aloud: 'Have you no friends here in London?'

'No, sir, none. I was unfortunate in business in the country, and camehere hoping for better luck; but sickness overtook us, and we've neverbeen able to do any good. But, Mary, my daughter, doesn't want foreducation, sir; and a more honest girl never lived!'

'Honest, is she?' said Mr Benjamin, looking Glegg in the face. 

'I'll answer for her, sir, ' answered John, who thought the old gentlemanwas going to assist her to a situation. 'You'll excuse me mentioning it, sir; but perhaps it isn't everybody, distressed as we were, that wouldhave carried back that money she found in the meal: but Mary _would_ doit, even when I said that perhaps it wasn't yours, and that nobody mightknow whose it was; which was very wrong of me, no doubt; but one's mindgets weakened by illness and want, and I couldn't help thinking of thefood it would buy us; but Mary wouldn't hear of it. I'm sure you mighttrust Mary with untold gold, sir; and it would be a real charity to helpher to a situation, if you knew of such a thing. '

Little deemed Leah that morning, as she handed Mary her quart of mealand the change for her hard-earned shilling, that she had spoiled herown fortunes, and that she would, ere night, be called upon to abdicateher stool behind the counter in favour of that humble customer; and yetso it was. Mr Benjamin could not forgive her dereliction from honesty;and the more he had trusted her, the greater was the shock to hisconfidence. Moreover, his short-sighted views of human nature, and hisincapacity for comprehending its infinite shades and varieties, causedhim to extend his ill opinion farther than the delinquent merited. Inspite of her protestations, he could not believe that this was her firstmisdemeanour; but concluded that, like many other people in the world, she had only been reputed honest because she had not been found out. Leah soon found herself in the very dilemma she had deprecated, and theapprehension of which had kept her so long practically honest--without asituation, and with a damaged character. 

As Mary understood book-keeping, the duties of her new office were soonlearned, and the only evil attending it was, that she could not takecare of her father. But determined not to lose her, Mr Benjamin foundmeans to reconcile the difficulty by giving them a room behind the shop, where they lived very comfortably, till Glegg, recovering some portionof health, was able to work a little at his trade. 

In process of time, however, as infirmity began to disable Mr Benjaminfor the daily walk from his residence to his shop, he left the wholemanagement of the business to the father and daughter, receiving everyshilling of the profits, except the moderate salaries he gave them, which were sufficient to furnish them with all the necessaries of life, though nothing beyond. But when the old gentleman died, and his will wasopened, it was found that he had left everything he possessed to MaryGlegg; except one guinea, which, without alleging any reason, hebequeathed to Leah Leet. 

DECIMAL SYSTEM OF COINAGE. 

The pounds, shillings, and pence which served for the simple reckoningsof our fathers, have entailed upon us a highly complicated system ofaccounts since we have become a great commercial people. Steam-engines, locomotives, and electric telegraphs have multiplied our transactions ahundredfold, but no adequate labour-saving machinery has been introducedinto the counting-house, where the value of these transactions has to berecorded and adjusted. The simple and scientific method of computationby what is called the decimal system, is used at this moment, we aretold, by more than half the human race. Not only has it been by lawestablished in most of the countries of Europe, but throughout the greatempires of China and Russia; it is penetrating the Ottoman Empire; ithas obtained a footing in Persia and Egypt; and it is universal in theUnited States of America, whence it has made its way into several othertransatlantic states. Among ourselves, the thing is approved and admiredin the abstract, but we dread the trouble it would give us to fall intoa method to which we are unaccustomed; and we apprehend, on veryinsufficient grounds, that much confusion would arise during thetransition. Moreover, it is to be feared that out of a spirit ofprejudice or contradiction, many would not, even under the penalties oflaw, adopt the change. At this moment, as is well known, certain classesof people persist in selling corn and other articles by old localmeasures, although at the risk of prosecution. Thus, in Scotland, westill hear of firlots, bolls, and mutchkins, notwithstanding that theseantiquated measures were abolished upwards of twenty years ago. Inshort, it would appear that the change of popular denominations inweights, measures, and moneys, is one of the things which the law, inordinary circumstances, has great difficulty in reaching. 

This difficulty, however, ought not to be deemed insuperable. The boongiven to society by the decimal system is worth struggling for. On thisaccount, it appears highly desirable that the people at large should bemade thoroughly acquainted with its principles, and be able to weigh theadvantages against the difficulties of such a change. Some years ago, the subject was pretty fully discussed in several literary andcommercial periodicals; and recently, Mr Taylor's little work[1] haspresented it in a more permanent form. Our own pages appear particularlysuitable for giving wide circulation to a familiar and popularexposition of the subject. 

The ancients used certain letters to represent numbers, and we stillemploy the Roman numeral characters as the most elegant way ofexpressing a date in typography or sculpture; but every one must seewhat a tedious business the calculation of large sums would be accordingto this cumbrous system of notation: nor is it easy to say whereaboutsour commercial status, to say nothing of science, would have beento-day, had it never been superseded. The Romans themselves, incomputing large numbers, always had recourse to the abacus--acounting-frame with balls on parallel wires, somewhat similar to thatnow used in infant-schools. 

It was a great step gained, and a most important preparation forclearing away the darkness of the middle ages by the light of science, when between the eighth and thirteenth centuries the use of thecharacters 1, 2, 3, &c. Was generally established in Europe, having beenreceived from Eastern nations, long accustomed to scientificcomputations. The great advantage of these numbers is, that they proceedon the decimal system--that is, they denote different values accordingto their relative places, each character signifying ten times moreaccordingly as it occupies a place higher. Thus 8, in the first place tothe right, is simply 8; but in the next to the left, it is 80; in thethird, 800; and in the fourth, 8000. Yet we do not require to graspthese large numbers in our thought, but deal with each figure as asimple unit, and subject it to every arithmetical process without evenadverting to its real value. To some, it may seem superfluous to explaina matter so familiar; but we have met with many who know pretty well howto use our system of notation mechanically, yet do not know, or ratherhave not thought of the beautifully simple principle on which itproceeds--that of decimal ascension. 

Now, we want to see the same principle applied to the gradations of ourmoney, weights, and measures. Instead of our complicated denominationsof money--namely, pounds, each containing twenty shillings, these eachdivisible into twelve pence, and these again into four farthings--wewant a scale in which _ten_ of each denomination would amount to _one_of that immediately above it, as in our notation. And instead of ourcomplicated system of weights and measures, we want one similarlygraduated system--each measure and weight rising ten times above theformer. All calculations of prices would then be made by simplemultiplication. What a gala-day for school-boys when the pence andshilling table would be abolished by act of parliament, and there wouldno longer be the table of avoirdupois-weight to learn, nor troy-weight, nor apothecaries', nor long-measure, nor square-measure, norcloth-measure, nor liquid-measure, nor dry-measure, but one decimalscale of weights and measures would suffice for every commodity, andthere would only be their names to get by heart in order! Every one seesthat there would be an astonishing simplification in this system ofreckoning by tens--that the study of arithmetic would be immenselyfacilitated, and the business of the counting-house divested of puzzlingcalculations. Let us see whereabouts we are in the way towards itsattainment. 

About ten years ago, a parliamentary commission on the subject ofweights and measures, advised the adoption of a decimal scale, butrecommended as a preliminary step, the decimation of the Coinage. Regarding it as important, however, that great deference should be paidto existing circumstances, and that the present relative notions ofvalue, so deeply rooted in the public mind, should be disturbed aslittle as possible, they pointed out the facilities existing in ourpresent coinage for a re-arrangement on the decimal plan. They said thatthe pound might be preserved precisely on the present footing, and thuswould be maintained in name the price of everything above twentyshillings in value. They remarked that the farthing, which is the 960thpart of L. 1, might be set down as the 1000th, which would be a variationof 4 per cent. Only--somewhat less than that to which copper is liablefrom fluctuation of price. We have thus the units at the one end of thescale, and the thousands at the other; it remains only to interpose thetens and hundreds between them, by introducing a florin as the tenth ofa pound, and a cent--equal to 2-1/2d. Nearly--as the tenth of theflorin. Adopting these views, the following would be the new and simplescale of money-reckoning:--ten millets, 1 cent; ten cents, 1 florin; tenflorins, L. 1. 

Nothing was done, however, in following up these recommendations, tillthe subject was brought before the House of Commons by Dr John Bowring, in 1847. The consequence of his appeal was, that a coin denominated aflorin, and representing the tenth of a pound, was struck, and put incirculation. It was, however, considered 'an unfortunate specimen ofRoyal Mint art, ' and the issue was discontinued, though a few specimensstill linger unforbidden among us. The matter is thus at a stand-still, and may probably not be agitated again till the people generally aremore impressed with its importance, and disposed to urge it on thelegislature. 

The first thing wanted is obviously an abundant issue of acceptableflorins. No matter though the coin be recognised by the ignorant as atwo-shilling piece, rather than as the tenth of a pound; it is a decimalcoin with which they may become familiar without disturbing their oldideas and modes of reckoning. The single step that would then remain tobe taken is the decisive one--the introduction of the coin equivalent toone-tenth of a florin, accompanied by the withdrawal of therepresentatives of duodecimal division, and a legislative enactment thatall accounts kept in public offices, or rendered in privatetransactions, should be in the decimal denominations. 

The only difficulty which has appalled the advocates of the decimalsystem, is with respect to the cent-piece. It is said to be too smallfor a silver coin, too large for a copper, and mixed metals find nofavour at the Mint. But if it is to be a denomination in accounts, itmust have a representative coin, and a silver cent could be very littlesmaller than our present 3d. -piece. 'The great mass of the people, ' saysMr Norton (a correspondent of the _Athenæum_ on this subject), 'will notadopt an abstraction; you must give them something which they can see, handle, and call by name, if you wish them to take notice of it in theirreckonings. ' Mr Taylor, and some other writers, have proposed to evadethis difficulty by passing over the cents altogether, and counting onlyby pounds, florins, and millets. The French, say they, have in theory adecimally graduated scale, yet they always reckon by francs, and cents, which are 100ths of francs; the intervening decime being ignored inpractice. So, likewise, the Americans have the dollar, the dime (itstenth part), the cent (its hundredth), and the mill (its thousandth). 'It is now nearly thirty years, ' says Mr John Quincy Adams, in hisreport to Congress in 1821, 'since our new moneys of account have beenestablished. The dollar and the cent have become familiarised to thetongue, but the dime and the mill are so utterly unknown, that now, whenthe recent coinage of dimes is alluded to, it is always necessary toinform the reader that they are ten-cent pieces. Ask a tradesman in anyof our cities what is a dime or a mill, and the chances are four in fivethat he will not understand your question. ' This, however, we cannothelp considering one of the greatest inconveniences of transatlantic andcontinental reckonings. We are accustomed to talk of amounts in as smallnumbers as possible; and one of the great advantages we see in decimalgradations is, that we should never have a number above 9, except inpounds. There is something not only troublesome but indefinite, in theidea of ten and twenty in comparison with one and two; and a Frenchaccount in francs bewilders us when it amounts to thousands andmillions. Probably the half and quarter francs of France, and the halfand quarter dollars of America, have been the means of exploding thedecimals next below them; and on this ground we differ from those whoplead for the continuance of our present shillings and sixpences, ashalf and quarter florins. The shilling is a coin so inseparablyconnected with 12 and 20, that no decimal system will obtain while itexists. It is useless to say, that it would be retained only as acirculation coin, and not as a denomination in accounts; for so long aswe have it at all, we will certainly reckon from it and by it. Forpurposes of common barter, there ought to be a two-cent piece, afour-cent, and perhaps a seven-cent; and thus we shall be compelled to_think decimally_. 'If it is worth while to alter at all, ' says MrTaylor, 'ought we not to go the whole required length, and aim withouttimidity at the possession of a scale complete at once within itself, and so escape an indefinite prolongation of the purgatory of transition?In a change like the one under consideration, the work of pulling downan old system is far more difficult than that of building up another, and every prop must be removed before it will fall. '

With respect to the copper coins, there seems to be no hurry aboutdisturbing them. It appears that the Dutch stiver and the French souhave maintained their place in spite of legislation. So, probably, wouldthe English penny, and properly enough as a 4-millet piece. We fear ourpoor people would feel it to be an attempt to mystify them, were thegovernment to withdraw this familiar coin and substitute a 5-milletpiece, as some have recommended, for the sake of establishing a binarydivision of the cent. It would, doubtless, be considered desirable, asan ulterior measure, to have a more exact copper coinage, marked as onemillet, two millets, and four millets; but when we have, withoutscruple, passed as the twelfth part of a shilling the Irish penny, whichis really only the thirteenth part, we may, in the meantime, use ourpresent copper money, which will differ only a twenty-fifth from the newvalue attached to it--a discrepancy of no consequence, except to theholders of large quantities, from whom the Mint would be bound toreceive it back at the value it bore when issued. These coppers, however, ought not to be used beyond the value of the cent, for thenwould arise the confusion of dealing with the 100 millets in the florin, or what would popularly be termed an odd half-penny in every shilling. For the same reason, the adjustment of prices, in order to be equitable, should be calculated downwards from the pound and florin, not upwardsfrom the penny. Thus, if a labourer's wages have been 1s. 3d. A day, hisemployer must not say that 15 pence are 60 farthings--that is, 6 cents;but 1s. 3d. Is five-eighths of a florin, which amount to about 6 cents 2millets. 

Such is the plan which has been officially laid down for a decimalcoinage, and such the steps needful to carry it out. The only scheme wehave seen which materially differs from it is that of Mr H. Norton. Heselects for the highest denomination the half-sovereign, and proposes tocall it a ducat. The shilling, as now in use, would then be the seconddenomination; the third, he proposes, should be a cent, equal to about1-1/5th of a penny, and which, he says, would be fairly represented byour large unmilled pennies, if newly christened; the fourth denominationto be a 'rap, ' the tenth of the cent, and somewhat less than half afarthing. The great advantage adduced in favour of this scale is, thatit would be much more likely than the other to secure general adoption. The removal of the pound, he says, affects chiefly the higher andeducated classes; it leaves the shilling, which is the staple andstandard for the masses, and also the penny, with slight alteration, accompanied by the utter removal of the old one. It is also said, that ahalf-farthing piece would be a great boon to the poor, especially inIreland. The circumstances alleged in recommendation of this scale, arejust what appear to us to be its defects. The continuance of the poorman's penny would not appear a boon if he found there were to be onlyten of them for a shilling; especially as many small articles, whichwere a penny before, would probably be a penny still, the dealers notfinding it convenient to adjust the fraction. We well remember thedissatisfaction of the poorer classes in Ireland at the equalisation ofthe currency in 1825. Hitherto, the native silver coins had been 5d. And10d. Pieces, a British shilling had been a thirteen-penny, and ahalf-crown, 2s. 8-1/2d. This half-crown was the usual breakfast-money ofgentlemen's servants--that is, their weekly allowance for purchasingeverything except dinner. When the servant now went to the huckster's, and got, as heretofore, 6d. Worth of bread, 9d. Worth of tea, 4d. Worthof sugar, and 5d. Worth of butter, there was only 6d. Of change to buyanother loaf in the middle of the week, instead of 8-1/2d. , which waswont to afford, we will not say what, over and above. It is for asimilar reason that we say, if there remain anything which can be eitheridentified or confounded with a penny, it should be lowered rather thanraised in value. Small prices are not easily adjusted, and thetemptation in the other case lies on the side of the dealer not to alterthem. It is more certain, for instance, that a baker will take care todivide 2s. Worth of bread into twenty-five penny-loaves, when a pennycomes to be the twenty-fifth of a florin, than that he will divide 1s. Worth into ten only, if a penny become the tenth of a shilling. And itwould be less hardship for the poor housekeeper to find her penny-loaf1-25th smaller, if she could discern the reduction, than to get only tenfor her shilling, even if they were a fifth larger. Besides, we shouldfeel it to be a poverty-stricken thought, that our internal commerceshould be reduced to barter in half-farthings' worths, and that ourmerchants and bankers should have no denomination above the value of10s. For the enormous sums which figure in their books. 

The subject of names is worth a remark or two. The commissionersrecommended 'florins, ' as affording facilities to foreigners forunderstanding our monetary system; and in this respect it hasadvantages. 'Cent' and 'millet' are easily enunciated, and they conveyto the educated classes, whether at home or abroad, the relative valueof the coins. We cannot say, however, but we would prefer a morefamiliar nomenclature than florins, cents, and millets. Mr Norton'ssuggestion, that the names should not only be capable of easy and rapidutterance, but that they should be of the same Teutonic origin as ourshilling and penny, is worthy of serious consideration. Dr Bowring, whoadvocated a strictly decimal scale, suggested the names, 'queens' and'victorias' for the two middle denominations, leaving pounds andfarthings as they were. Now, if it be deemed proper to change the nameof the unfortunate florin when it makes its reappearance, 'queen' wouldbe a very pretty substitute; but 'victoria' would soon be mangled downto its first syllable. If this style of nomenclature be preferred, 'prince' would be a more suitable name for the little cent-piece. Mr DeMorgan is for 'pounds, royals, groats, and farthings. '

But 'royal' is not capable of rapid enunciation, and 'groat' isdecidedly objectionable for designating ten farthings, as it is stillsacred to fourpence in the English mind. Whatever the names, the fullenunciation of them at first would appear stiff and solemn; butabbreviated modes of expression would soon be established. 'Four-two'would be understood as L. 4, 2 (florins), while 'four and two' wouldconvey four florins, two cents. When three denominations were used, itwould be 'four-three-two, ' there being little danger of amisunderstanding as to whether the 'four' were pounds or florins. So, inwriting, it would only be necessary to write after any sum the name ofthe lowest denomination, as 48, 3, 7c. , which would be known as L. 48, 3florins, 7 cents; or, to add ciphers for all lower denominations, as48300, which, whether pointed or not, would convey L. 48, 3, 0, 0. 

In a future paper, we will resume the subject of decimals, viewing itwith reference to weights and measures; when its advantages will morefully appear, by the facility it affords for the calculation of prices. 

FOOTNOTES:

[1] The Decimal System; as applied to the Coinage and Weights andMeasures of Great Britain. Groombridge and Sons: 1851. 

WHY THE SCOTCH DO NOT SHUT THE DOOR. 

Nations have curious and almost unaccountable peculiarities. Oneinterlards conversation with shrugs, and another with expectoration; anda third, by way of indicating satisfaction, rubs its hands. The Scotchhave a peculiarity of their own. When they quit a room, they do not shutthe door, but merely draw it gently after them, so as to leave itunlatched. Some individuals may not be strictly attached to thispractice; but on the whole the Scotch may, for the sake of distinction, be said to be an anti-door-shutting nation. Now, why such should be thecase, becomes an interesting philosophical problem. 

Much consideration have we spent in pondering on this national oddity, and are free to admit that the conclusions arrived at are not sosatisfactory as could be wished. Nevertheless, in default of any betterexplanation of the phenomenon, what we have to say may possibly carry adegree of weight. 

The reason why the Scotch do not shut the door is, as we imagine, highlycharacteristic. It is not that they are ignorant of the important fact, that doors are made for shutting. They are fully aware that latches arenot mere ornamental attributes of doors--things stuck on not to be used. And it cannot be imputed to them, that they leave doors open for thesake of ventilation. In short, if strangers were to guess for a hundredyears, they would fail to hit upon the real, true, and particular reasonwhy the Scotch do not shut the door. One would naturally think, that asthe act of shutting the door is the prerogative of the person who quitsan apartment, it would not by so mindful a people be neglected. Andneither it is. There is no neglect in the matter. The Scotch take aprofound view of the subject. They institute a rigorous comparisonbetween shutting and not shutting. True, they are not taught to do so, any more than Frenchmen are taught to make gestures. It is in them. Theyare born with a natural proneness to consider, as if it were a questionof algebraic quantities, whether the satisfaction they might impart byshutting the door would not be more than counterbalanced by thedissatisfaction that might accrue from distinctly and unmistakablyshutting it. Still, it seems strange how any displeasure could beincurred by the performance of what all the rest of mankind believe tobe a mark of good-breeding. Strange, indeed! But it surely will beobserved, that much depends on making a principle of a thing. And withrespect to good-breeding, what if it can be placed in a double point ofsight? It may be the etiquette in some countries to shut the door; butthat proves nothing. In Europe, men uncover their heads on entering thepresence of the great; in the East, they uncover the feet. Fashions arelocal. When the Scotch do not shut the door, they act conscientiously, according to ancient national usage. We may be certain that they havedeliberately, arithmetically, and cautiously, weighed the question ofshutting in its various and delicate bearings; and arrived at the clearconviction that, all things considered, it would be better not to shut!

Of course, the Scotch having, by innate logic, attained to a principle, they adhere to it as a thing which neither argument nor raillery canupset. They have very properly resolved not to be reasoned, nor laughed, nor cudgelled out of their opinion. The door ought not to be shut! Thatis a truth as effectually demonstrated as any truth in mathematics; andsuch being the case, they will die rather than yield the point. Let itbe understood, therefore, that in these observations we aim not in theslightest degree at proselytising our northern friends. They are anation of anti-door-shutters, and that, on principle, they will remainto the end of the chapter. 

It may, at the same time, be mentioned, that this acute people have nospecial objection to seeing a door shut, provided anybody else does it. Their principles apply only to shutting by their own hand. What might bevery wrong in them, while quitting an apartment, would be proper enoughfor him who remains. He may rise and shut the door, if he feelsinclined. It is his affair. Strictly speaking, he should appreciate thedelicacy of feeling which has gracefully left the performance of thissimple act to his own discretion. Yes, it is in this fine instance ofsteady principle that we see a discrimination of politeness exquisitelyingenious and beautiful. The English have the reputation of being ablunt, downright people; and their practice of shutting the door afterthem makes it certain they are so. When they draw to the door, turn thehandle, and hear the latch click, they as good as say: 'There, the dooris shut; the thing is done. I leave no doubt on the subject; I care notwhat you think of me; I have done my duty. ' This is England allover--great, uncalculating, independent-minded England! The Scotchalmost pity this daring recklessness of character. They are astonishedat its boldness. It is action resting on no proper grounds. Howdifferently they proceed! Treating it as belonging to the science ofnumbers, the following becomes the method of stating the question:--

Given that there is a door which may or may not be shut on quitting anapartment, let it be shewn by the rules of arithmetic whether it wouldbe preferable to shut the said door or leave it open. Write down, first, the arguments for not shutting, according to their supposed value; thendo the same for the arguments _per contra_; lastly, sum up both, andstrike the balance. Thus--

 FOR NOT SHUTTING. 

 Because the door is apt to slam, which would be exceedingly unpleasant, and might suggest the idea that you went out in a passion--valued as . . . 4

 If it did not slam, it might still make a creaking noise--valued as . . . . . . . . . . 2

 Supposing it to make no noise at all, the impression is conveyed that you are going away never to return, whereas you have no such intention, . . . . . . . . . . . . 1

 Chances of your causing a noise to disturb the company on opening the door when you return, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2

 Probable loss of character by conveying the notion, that you are peremptory and abrupt in manners, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3

 Giving the parties remaining the option of shutting, or not, as suits their fancy, . . 2

 That by leaving the door open, you do not commit yourself to a determinate act, . . . . . 2 -- 16

 FOR SHUTTING. 

 That a cold wind may not blow into the room; but this not probable, for it will be easy for those remaining in the apartment to rise and shut the door themselves, . . . . . . . . . 1

 That by a faint possibility you may give offence by leaving the door open, . . . . . . . 1

 That you may prevent persons outside overhearing what is said; this of small account, for people should not speak about things they do not wish to be repeated, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1 -- 3

Deducting 3 from 16, 13 remain. Result--balance of 13-19ths in favour ofnot shutting the door. Nothing, therefore, could be more clearlydemonstrated than that the Scotch are strongly justified in leaving thedoor open when they quit an apartment. Doubts, indeed, may beentertained as to the values arbitrarily put on the respective items inthe account: but to venture into this remote part of the inquiry wouldbe to plunge us into the depths of metaphysics. Even supposing we wereto make the matter as clear as the sun at noonday, there would still besceptics. On shewing the above arithmetical calculation, for example, toan English lady, who has for a number of years studied Scotch characterand manners, she, with a degree of bluntness that was exceedinglystartling, gave it as her unqualified opinion, that the whole thing wasa piece of nonsense; and that the only reason, as far as she couldobserve, why the Scotch do not shut the door, is that they have neverbeen taught that it is consistent with good-manners to do so. Theaudacity of some people is really wonderful!

EDFOU AND ITS NEIGHBOURHOOD. 

There is something extremely pleasant in the general regularity withwhich the picture of Egypt unfolds itself on either hand like a doublepanorama as you descend the Nile. When moving in the opposite direction, against the perpetual current, you are sometimes compelled to creepslowly on, tugged by a tight-strained rope at the rate of seven or eightmiles a day; whilst anon a wind rises unexpectedly, and carries you withbewildering speed through forty or fifty miles of scenery. But the mastsbeing taken down, and the sails folded for the rest of the voyage, andthe oars put out, you begin to calculate with tolerable certainty on therate of progress; for though violent contrary winds do frequently blowduring part of a day, it is almost always possible to make up for losttime in the hours that neighbour on sunset before and after. Well-seasoned Nile-travellers confirm our experience; and as we hadrowed and floated within a calculated time from Assouan to Ombos, andfrom Ombos to Silsilis, so did we proceed to Edfou, and to the stationsbeyond, with few exceptions of obstinately adverse weather. 

True, some portions of the view are missed during the hours ofnight-travelling; but these have most probably been seen during theascent. Besides, though the scenery of the Nile is certainly notmonotonous enough to weary the eye, yet there is a general sameness inits details, a want of those bold, original features which in othercountries stamp the character of particular localities. Two parallellines of mountains ever within sight of each other, now advancingtowards the river through a sea of verdure in promontories, alwaysnearly with the same level outline, now receding in semicircular sweeps;a narrow flat plain, loaded with crops and palm-groves, and intersectedby canals and dikes, sometimes equally divided by a tortuous stream ofvast breadth, but sometimes thrown, as it were, all to one side, east orwest; occasionally a long line of precipices descending sheer into thevery water; once only a regular defile with rocks on either hand;islands in the river, sandbanks, broad, winding reaches--such, in a fewwords, is a description of Egypt. It is the variety of colour producedby that mighty painter, the sun, that gives all the beauty to thelandscape; and of this it is almost impossible to convey an idea. Thechaste loveliness of the dawn, the majestic splendour of noon, and themarvellous glories of the sunset-hour--the thousand hues that glow andtremble, and melt and mingle around through all the scenes of this greatdrama of light--words have not yet been invented to describe. 

And then the night! Who can sit down and recall and count over theimpressions which fly like a troop of fairies over the thrilling sensesat that mystic hour, when the skirts of retiring day have ceased toflutter above the western hills, and the moon casts down her pale, melancholy glances on the silent scene, and the stars--our guardianangels, according to some--seem to stoop nearer and nearer to the earthas slumber deepens, as if to press golden kisses upon the eyelids ofthose whom they watch and love! In all countries these hours arebeautiful; but in Egypt--let those who doubt come and witness all thatwe beheld, and which is indescribable, on the evening that we left theneighbourhood of Silsilis on our way to Edfou--on that calm, placidriver, over which brooded a silence interrupted only by the alternatesongs of the crews of the two boats as they leisurely pulled with thecurrent. 

It was late in the afternoon of next day when we reached thelanding-place; but we immediately set out to see the ruin, if ruin itcan be called, for it is almost in perfect preservation. Aftertraversing a broad extent of ground covered with rank grass and pricklyplants, we came to the customary palm-grove, and then entered whatromancers would probably call the 'good city' of Edfou. It is aconsiderable collection of huts, principally constructed of mud, clustering amidst mounds of rubbish at the base of the temple. The loftypropylæa, above a hundred feet high, I believe, were of course seen fromafar off, both during our walk and in ascending and descending theriver. As is the case in nearly all other Egyptian buildings, the effectat a distance is anything but picturesque. From want of objects ofcomparison, the impression of great size is not produced; and nothingcan be meaner in outline than two towers like truncated pyramids, pierced with small, square windows at irregular intervals. On a nearerapproach, however, the surface-ornament begins to appear; and thecentral doorway, overhung by a rich and painted cornice, presents itselfin its really grand proportions, but crushed, as it were, by the vastsize of the twin towers, which now seem magnified into mountains. AtEdfou the effect of this surprise is partly injured by thecircumstances: first, the accumulation of huts through which youapproach; and second, that of mounds of dirt which have risen nearly tothe height of the doorway. However, when you come to the summit of thesemounds, almost on a level with the lintel, and look down between theenormous jambs into a kind of valley formed by the great court, with itswonderful portico and belt of columns, it is difficult to conceive amore imposing scene. 

The walls on all sides were covered with gigantic figures, quitewonderful to behold in their serene ugliness; but awakening no morehuman sympathy than the singular figures we saw on the Chinese-patternedplate stuck over the doorway in Nubia. The exaggeration that is usuallyindulged in with reference to Egyptian art is such, that if we were toattempt to describe these sculptured ornaments according to our ownimpressions, we should run the risk of being accused of caricature. Wedo not mean on this temple only, but on all the temples of Egypt. Nowand then a face of beautiful expression, though still with heavyfeatures, is met with; but in general both countenance and figure areflat, out of proportion, and stiff in drawing, whilst the highest effortof colouring consists of one uniform layer, without tints or gradation. Perhaps amidst the many thousand subjects found in tombs and templesbetween Philoe and Cairo, one or two may be treated with nearly as muchskill as was exhibited by the Italian painters before the time ofCimabue--except that scarcely an attempt even is made at grouping orcomposition. Nor must it be supposed that the Egyptian school was incourse of development. They seem to have arrived at the highestexcellence of which their intellect was capable. Their outlines, thoughin general excessively mean, are very firmly drawn; and they representdetails with a laborious ingenuity worthy of the Chinese. Someenthusiastic antiquarians describe with great animation the scenes ofpublic and domestic life which occur in such profusion; and, book inhand, we have admired and wondered at--not the genius of the artists, but that of their historians. How, in fact, do the Egyptians reallyproceed? They want to represent a hunt, for example: so they sketch aman with his legs extended like compasses, armed with a huge bow, fromwhich he is in the act of discharging a monstrous arrow. Then close bythey draw, without any attempt at perspective, a square enclosure, inwhich they set down higgledy-piggledy a variety of animals, some of themsufficiently like nature to allow their species to be guessed at. In onecorner, perhaps, is a sprig of something intended for a tree, andintimating that all this is supposed to take place in a wood. Thishieroglyphical or algebraical method of 'taking off' the occurrences ofhuman life is applied with almost unvarying uniformity. Such was highart among the Egyptians; whom it is now the fashion to cry up at theexpense of those impertinent Grecians, who presumed to arrive atexcellence, almost at perfection, in so many departments. 

However, the vast size of the figures on the front of the propylæa ofEdfou does certainly, in spite of their awkwardness, produce an imposingeffect, especially at the time we first beheld them, when the graytwilight had descended upon the earth, and night was already thickeningbeneath the heavy portico. We walked, or rather slid, down into thegreat court. It was surrounded with massive columns loaded withornament, and looked grave in the extreme, in spite of the heaps ofrubbish that encumbered it, and enabled us to ascend to the summit ofthe colonnade at one corner. The architecture of the Egyptians wascertainly sublime. Their style anticipated and surpassed the Gothic inmajesty, though certainly not in beauty. Their massive walls, Cyclopeancolumns, dim porticos, gloomy chambers, produce even now all theterrific impressions they could have desired. Perhaps the crumblingruins which encumber the roof, the wretched remains of Christianbuildings once erected on this temple as on a rock for security, ratherheighten than diminish its effect. We walked round a vast wall still inperfect preservation, which encircles the windowless parallelogramformed by the temple, and reaches about half its height, leaving anarrow court like a moat all round; and we felt that these religiousedifices had been fortresses likewise, and that temporal as well asspiritual terrors had of yore surrounded them. When shall we be able towring forth the secret of that ancient time? When will its history ceaseto be a myth, its kings become real personages, its civilisationsomething better than a romance? As yet, nothing has been discoveredexcept a string of disjointed facts, which scholars arrange each afterhis own fashion, and which no more resemble any other known series ofhuman actions than the accidental combination of the kaleidoscope doesthis living and breathing world. We want a key, and a key has not beenfound. So men go stumbling on through the inextricable labyrinth, andexhaust more ingenuity in vain speculations than would suffice to bringa variety of modern sciences to perfection. 

It was perfectly safe to indulge in these thoughts, because even if anymighty antiquary had been at hand, he would have been obliged to confessthat although some truth may have been brought to light, it isimpossible to put one's finger upon it. For almost all men who havestudied Egyptian antiquities differ entirely in their conclusions--allarrange dynasties in a different manner, and find more mistakes thandiscoveries in their predecessors. Well, thought we, let us leave themto their researches: if they do not find the pot of gold, they maycultivate the ground. For our part, we will hasten on to where yon palegleam of yellow light is pouring between the propylæa and the body ofthe temple over the court-yard upon an enormous mountain of rubbish. Itwas the moon that had risen--not to enlighten the scene, but to renderit more dim and mysterious, more full of strange shadows and illusions. On such occasions it is difficult even for the least imaginative tocheck a thought of what that pale, thoughtful-looking orb, which haswatched the changing aspects of this scene for so many thousand years, could tell if it had a tongue! We gazed inquiringly at it; but as itrose higher and higher, and poured down more light on all objectsaround, it seemed to smile at our inquisitiveness, and to bid us turnless eager glances towards the dust and rubbish of old times, whereperchance we may find a precious stone, perchance a bit of brokenglass--but bend our eyes more steadfastly to the future, the centuriesunborn, the inevitable, though not yet created infinite. 

Edfou is situated at a little distance inland on the western bank of theNile. As usual, the land in the neighbourhood of the river is high incomparison with that which is beyond--that is to say, there is acontinual descending slope to the edge of the desert, where at this timeof year there is, as it were, a succession of large ponds, water-channels, and marshes. It is impossible to reach the desert exceptby a long, elevated, tortuous dike, which begins near the town andterminates near the foot of a spur of the Libyan chain, some three orfour miles distant. By the aid of the telescope we could distinguish inthe niches of the rock a variety of dark spots resembling the entrancesof grottos; and, hearing that others had made the same observation, though without undertaking the fatigue of a visit, we determined to setout next morning, and combine a little sporting with antiquity-hunting. 

Though the sun was not very high, it was sufficiently warm when westarted, and we had good reason for anticipating a broiling ride. Atthis point there is not an atom of shade, not the semblance of a treebetween the river and the stony desert. All the palm-groves clusterround the town of Edfou and the villages north and south. We were soonupon the dusty dike, which, as we proceeded, seemed to lift us higherand higher above the level plain, half bright-green, half sheeted withwater, that lay in death-like repose, and reflected the sun's rays likea burnished mirror. It soon appeared that our anticipations of goodsport were not to be disappointed: on all sides, as far as the eye couldreach, as well as near at hand in the pools at the base of the _gisr_ ordike, appeared innumerable birds, principally aquatic. Large flocks ofpaddy-birds, often called the white ibis, speckled the green of thefields; enormous pelicans stood hanging their enormous beaks, as if indrowsy contemplation, over distant pools; storks and herons, single, orarranged, as it were, in military array, accompanied them; andprodigious masses of white birds glittered in the sun on the verge ofthe marshy plain. Then the water was alive with cormorants, geese, ducks, divers, teal, coot, that swam about in amazing numbers, or, startled at the slightest noise, flew generally at a cautious distanceoverhead. Birds of prey were of course likewise numerous--hawks, kites, vultures; and whole flights of large, black crows went by now and then, cawing vociferously. We could see also prodigious numbers of the_ghatta_ or red-legged partridge flying northward or settling on theedge of the desert. It seemed as though a grand parliament of thefeathered creation were about to be held. 

When we reached the desert we found a small Coptic convent standingamidst the ruins of a much larger one near the head of the _gisr_. Wevisited it in the course of the morning, and were civilly received andconducted over the establishment. However, there was nothing particularto see. The grottos we found to be of no interest whatever, being only afew feet deep, and containing neither sculptures nor inscriptions. Atthe base of the rocks were some oblong mouths of wells, but they werenearly filled with sand, so that, in an antiquarian point of view, wehad reason to be disappointed. We passed some time on the plain, coveredwith _halfeh_, a kind of coarse grass, to the north of the convent;succeeded in getting some partridges to add to our water-fowl; andreturned in the afternoon with a donkey-load of game to the boat. 

On the opposite side of the river there is some good ground forhare-shooting. We had been there before with success, and determined ona second visit. The scenery presented a curious contrast to that on thewest bank--no dikes, no ponds, no marshy fields. The country extendsfrom the bank in a high level plain, principally overgrown withhalfeh-grass, to the desert. Formerly there was scarcely anycultivation; all was abandoned to unprofitable thickets, that grew wilddown to the river's margin. Now a good deal of _dhourra_ is grown; andin January we saw the bright green blades of wheat coming up amongst thestubble. The castor-oil plant has been introduced, but as yet theunprofitable silk-tree and the wild bushes are far more common. 

The change that has taken place is attributed to the fact, that aFrenchman, in the service of the pacha, has discovered coal-mines in thevicinity; and this is farther confirmed by the name bestowed on themountains--Gebel et Fahm (Mountains of Coal. ) But none of the valuablemineral has as yet made its appearance, and sceptics pretend that noneever will. We saw four or five large black heaps at a distance, andthought they might be the produce of the neighbourhood; but on drawingnigh they turned out to be charcoal manufactured in the desert, andbrought down for sale by the Bedouins. There is a village of Ababdebeneath the desert hills on the extreme verge of the plain; and the newcultivation seems entirely due to its inhabitants. 

It was late in the evening when we this time came to the hare-ground;but we expected to take advantage of puss, as we had done once before, by moonlight. As we beat about among the bushes, myriads of drowsysparrows, that had settled to rest on the boughs, rushed up with atremendous noise, but sank down again almost instantaneously, to be oncemore disturbed. We started a few hares, but they glided away likeshadows in the twilight, and we got no shots. Next morning we againtried our fortune; but it would appear as if the wary things had held acouncil of war, and decamped with bag and baggage. We found the sparrowslively and twittering, as though their night's rest had not beendisturbed; hundreds of doves cooed securely on the boughs; and half adozen mighty storks flew off from the midst of a dew-bespangled copse. But though we turned out the crews of two boats in default of dogs, nota hare shewed its ears; and we gave up the search disappointed. It isremarked by old travellers on the Nile, that these animals constantlyshift their quarters; not, indeed, in the course of a night, as weperhaps gratuitously supposed, but from season to season. 

AN ENGLISH WORKMAN'S ACCOUNT OF A 'STRIKE' IN NEW YORK. 

It was my second summer in New York: a residence of two years in thatbusy and enterprising city had enabled me to form juster viewsconcerning the social policy of its inhabitants than those which hadpresented themselves to me on first landing; two years, if properly madeuse of, will serve to correct many fallacies, and to throw light onplaces and people. There is nothing like seeing with your own eyes, ifyou want really to know what the two latter are--whether they come up toyour standard of comparison or otherwise. In several respects, chieflymaterial, I liked America better than England; the abundance andcheapness of provisions, for instance, and the ease with which fruitsand other luxuries--to say nothing of books and newspapers--wereprocurable by the working-classes, presented, at that time at least, astriking contrast to the state of things in the 'old country. ' I liked, too, at first, the sort of free-and-easy intercourse of the working-menwith those, conventionally speaking, above them. Jack considered himselfas good as his master, though not without occasional mortifications atnot finding the sentiment reciprocated. The feeling, however, imparted ashow of independence, rather captivating to one who was not a littleimbued with 'old-country' radicalism. On the other hand, I had beenastonished, not to say disconcerted, at finding--which I did more andmore every day--how much mechanics are looked down upon in the UnitedStates. You have only to wear jacket and apron, and write yourselfartisan, to be excluded from 'good' society as rigidly as if born underthe caste-laws of India. Where there appears to be an equal chance forall to rise, those who have risen draw the line of demarcation with muchgreater severity than strangers are willing to believe. 

Another point on which my notions were corrected was, that it was not so_very_ easy to find work in New York as is commonly reported; and that, though wages were 20 per cent. Higher than I had been accustomed to, thehigh price of clothing, lodging, &c. Made it, notwithstanding, necessaryfor a man to be exceedingly careful of his expenditure, if he wishedreally to save money. There was no royal road to wealth on that side theAtlantic any more than on this. 

Yet, among the facts which I liked, there was a set-off for this: it wasthe absence of those stupid trade-regulations which in England, and onthe continent of Europe, hamper so annoyingly the movement of commerce, and complicate so vexatiously the relations between employers andemployed. Few of these relics of feudal-age policy exist in the UnitedStates: a master takes as many apprentices as he pleases, perfectlyregardless of anything his journeymen may think or say to the contrary. He believes, and not without reason, that while he pays them fair wagesfor their labour, they have no right to interfere with his mode ofconducting his business. It was a relief to get clear of thetraditionary customs and usages of European workshops, and to feel thatthe way was clearer for rising out of the ranks. But there was oneexception, in a large foundry and engine-factory into which I sometimeswent to see an acquaintance: there the 'old-country' customs, as todrinking when new hands were taken on, prescribing coercive limitations, and so forth, were in full vigour. My shopmates were greatly amused oneday by my account of what I had seen and heard in the factory and ourforeman exclaimed in language that would have done credit to Sam Slick:'Well! if them machinists aint the pigheadedest fellers I ever heerdtell of!--they must be Johnny Bulls!'

Such were some of my experiences of American life, and I was working onin my usual plodding way, when I found that there was still something tobe learned. The journeymen cabinet-makers throughout the city took itinto their heads that too great a share of the profits of trade wentinto the masters' pockets, and they determined, by demanding higherwages, to secure if possible an increased proportion for themselves. Themasters being informed of the fact, maintained the contrary, andthereupon issue was joined. An 'old-price book' and a 'new-price book'came immediately to be talked about, with a fervour scarcely exceeded bythat of the O. P. Hostilities, well remembered by old playgoers inLondon; and among the men, a few ambitious spirits assumed the directionof affairs, and drew around them many willing helpers. Preliminarymeetings were held to organise an opposition to the masters, and to takemeasures for the proper setting-forth and enforcement of the claims ofthe men, and the grounds on which the advance of wages was demanded. Deputations were appointed to wait on the employers, or 'bosses, ' andshew reason why they should 'give in;' but the bosses would not give in, and declared themselves to be the best-judges of their own business;that wages were as high as sale-prices would allow, and that a rise wasout of the question. On hearing this, the men threatened a strike, totake place by a certain day, if their demands were not complied with. 

From ten to twelve hands were employed in the shop where I worked--arather heterogeneous assemblage. The foreman and one or two others wereAmericans, and the rest were Germans, French, and Irish--I being theonly Englishman. Notwithstanding the diversity of nation, there was butlittle in sentiment, for with the exception of the apprentice, who wasnot a free agent, and myself, they all determined to 'turn out, ' andmany a taunt had I to bear for refusing to join them. Our boss was a manwell to do in the world. Having of course heard of the threatenedstrike, he said: 'Well, you can do just as you like. There's no boss inthe city pays better prices than I do, and they wont go up a cent thehigher for all your striking. '

For my part, I was quite taken by surprise by the strike; it was thelast thing I should have expected to see in America. But there it was, sure enough; and now that the boss had so unequivocally declared hissentiments, the shop became the more demonstrative in the expression oftheirs. They were not going to be slaves for anybody; it was a freecountry; they had a right to higher wages, and higher wages they wouldhave. The Britisher wasn't half a man; he was a sneak, who ought to havestayed in his own tyrannical country; and much more to the same effect. Consequently, on the day fixed, they just shewed themselves at the shopfor a few minutes after breakfast, and then went off in a body to agreat 'mass meeting, ' called for the first day of the strike; and allthe while emigrants from Europe were pouring into the city at the rateof ten or twelve hundred every week. 

A first measure was to ascertain the numbers who had struck, how manywere recusants, and in what shops they were working, with a view todevise means for procuring a total cessation of work in all the shops ofthe city. Advertisements of the proceedings speedily appeared in thedaily papers, chiefly in those which, being sold at a cent apiece, circulated most largely among the working population. The masters werewarned, that holding out on their part would be of little avail; and asfor the 'misguided men' who persisted in working, they were invited tojoin the ranks of the insurgents, with promises of work at twelvedollars a week, or the option of being stigmatised as unworthy membersof society. Compared with the 'turn-outs, ' the number of those whopersisted in their labour was very small. As for myself, it seemed atfirst uncommonly dull to hear only the noise of my own tools, or of theapprentice's, echoing through the workshop. But the weather was fine; my'job, ' a 'secretary bookcase, ' was one that I liked; and I kept onwithout a single misgiving as to the propriety of my determination. 

After a few days spent in debates and discussions, and adjustment ofdifferences between the old and new list of prices, deputations weresent round to all shops where the men had not joined the strike, and, among others, they visited me. For some reason--perhaps to avoid vexingthe boss--they would not come up stairs, and requested me to meet themat the basement door. On going down, I saw some five or sixwell-dressed, intelligent-looking men--not a rare sight among themechanics of New York--and then, they standing under the 'stoop, ' and Ileaning against a pile of maple-joists, one of them opened the businesswith a little dissertation on political and social economy, and theinherent right of men to band themselves together for the common good;after which, he inquired my reasons for continuing to work in oppositionto the _will of the majority_. Those who have lived in America, andthose only, will be able fully to comprehend the significance of thesefour words in italics. My answer was, that 'I had come to America tobetter myself, and could not afford to lose time. '

'But you need not lose time. There's a steam-boat fitting up down belowat the dock; we can get you work on board of her at twelve dollars aweek. '

'I don't know anything of steam-boat work; and if I did, it would notsuit me to give up a steady place for one that must necessarily beuncertain. '

'You mean to say, then, that you will keep on working where you are?'

'I do. '

'You must be a fool to work for eight or nine dollars a week, when, bystanding out, you could get twelve. '

'Not so sure of that; it is but a few who can make two dollars a day, and I am not one of them. Nine dollars is about a fair rate for what Ican do. '

'That's no reason why you shouldn't try to better yourself by standingout. The bosses must give in, if all hands will only strike; and if itweren't for you European slaves and convicts, we'd soon carry ourpoint. '

The term convict is a taunt frequently applied to Englishmen byworking-people in the United States, and its introduction into theargument did not at all surprise me. 

'I have little inclination, ' I answered, 'to throw myself out of workjust to enable you, and a dozen or two more, to get your twelve dollarsa week. My first duty is, to take care of myself and my family. Our bossis a good fellow in the main, and I don't want to leave him; and, besides, there's another reason why I won't strike. '

'And what's that?'

'Because it won't succeed. You might as well try to stop the stream ofthe Hudson, as to keep up wages, while fifty or a hundred cabinet-makersare coming in every week from Germany, ready to work for twelve dollarsa month. '

'That shews how much you know about it. In our great and free country, there's work for all Europe; so it's no use saying wages can't be keptup. '

'Whether or not, ' I retorted, 'that's my opinion, and I shall stick toit till I find a better. '

On this, the opposite party delivered himself of a lengthy harangue, inwhich arguments were quoted from Adam Smith, De Tocqueville, and others, with considerable fluency; all intended, apparently, to convict me offlagrant error, and prognosticate 'consequences. ' I had not at that timeread the works of these writers, and had only very youthful experienceto oppose to such a weight of authority; and being, besides, one ofthose unfortunate individuals who cannot think of the right thing to sayuntil twenty-four hours after the occasion has passed, I remainedsilent. My opponents mistook silence for assent, and left me, expressinga hope that they should see me at their committee-room next day. 

The passage, at the entrance of which this scene had taken place, wasseparated from a turner's shop adjoining by a thin wooden partition, andthe turner, who was a New Yorker, stopped his lathe to listen to ourparley. When he heard me turn to go up stairs, he shouted: 'Hillo!Johnny Bull, they were rather too many for you. You must get up a littlesooner in the mornin', if you want to circumvent Yankees! Look out forsqualls, old fellow!'

'Words is only wind, ' I replied, quoting one-half of a 'down-east'adage, as I ran up the stairs; he, however, before I got out of hearing, added the second half: 'but blows hurts. '

Three or four days passed away; trade was remarkably brisk, and a few ofthe bosses gave in--a fact announced with great exultation by theturn-outs, who now felt confident of victory, and urged their demandsmore strenuously than ever. But compliance was no part of the bosses'intentions, for no sooner were the arrears of unfinished work clearedoff, than the hands found themselves again at liberty. This proceedingnaturally irritated the struggle somewhat; and subscriptions for thesupport of those who, habituated to live from hand to mouth, had savednothing, were called for with renewed importunity. The strike wasbeginning to feel the pressure of the laws of nature. 

Now and then, one of my shopmates would drop in, and intimate that itwould be dangerous for me to persist in having my own way; but I felt nowhit inclined to yield, for, although I had seen the houses ofintermarried blacks and whites devastated, and a bonfire made in thestreet with their furniture, I had but little apprehension of personalviolence, and the boss protested that he would 'see me righted, ' shouldany mischief befall. So it went on for a few days longer, when a seconddeputation waited upon me, and, less ceremonious than the first, theyrushed noisily, and without notice, up the stairs, and crowded into mybench-room. There were about twenty of them; their spokesman lookedclean and respectable, but the others were a dirty, out-at-elbows, tobacco-chewing crew, only to be described by that expressive Americanepithet, 'loafers;' and they eyed me with very sinister looks, while theleader began an appeal to my _ésprit de corps_. It is scarcely necessaryto repeat the argument that followed. Having nothing new to offer, Imerely said, that I considered myself at full liberty to work forwhatever amount of wages to me seemed satisfactory; that I would no moresubmit to any interference with that liberty, than to any tyranny overmy conscience; and that all I claimed at their hands, was to be letalone. Cries of 'Hustle him out!' frequently interrupted me; and perhapsa proof that 'blows hurts' might have followed, but just as I finished, my boss came in, and commanded the party to leave his premises, with anassurance that he would not suffer me to be molested. The leader, whoseemed as much ashamed of his followers as Falstaff was of his raggedregiment, immediately beat a retreat, and his troop with him; one ortwo, as they went out, declaring that they would 'hammer' me wheneverthey caught me in the street. I, however, went and came as usual, andfor some reason--perhaps the boss's declaration in my favour--met withno annoyance. 

What was the upshot? As emigrant cabinet-makers arrived, they were atonce engaged, and set to work; and at the end of six weeks, the strikecame to an end. The turn-outs not only failed in carrying their point, but found themselves in a worse position than when they began, fornumbers of them were no longer 'wanted, ' and had to migrate to thecountry, or accept a lower rate of wages than before, besides the lossof the best part of the busy season. In our own shop, one American andtwo of the Germans were altogether dismissed, greatly to theirmortification; and in this unexpected reverse, they began to perceivehow they had been duped. I, on the other hand, having finished the firstbookcase, was well advanced in a second; and had, besides, thesatisfaction of knowing that the overplus of my six weeks' earnings wassafely added to the 'nest-egg, ' and of hearing my shopmates applaud myresolution, and wish that they had done likewise. Many were theconversations touching masters and men that grew out of the event, and, if permitted, I may perhaps take an opportunity of making ourconclusions public. 

One day, some two years after the strike, while walking down WashingtonStreet, I met the leader of the second deputation aforementioned. 'Iguess I have seen you before, ' he said, laying a hand upon my shoulder. 'Didn't you work at C----'s? Ah! you were the toughest customer we had;but if we had all done as you did, it would have been better for us. '

THE DOCTOR VERSUS THE MEDICINE. 

We have not taken any part in the controversy now raging between theAllopathists and Homoeopathists; but we think it our duty to point out asignal benefit which appears to have resulted from it. Allopathy meanssimply 'another suffering, ' and Homoeopathy 'the same suffering;' fromwhich the ingenious may conclude, that our regular doctors pretend tocure diseases by inducing other diseases, and the new school by inducingsymptoms identical with those of the existing disease. But there isanother difference between the schools. The one gives the medicineboldly by the grain, the other cautiously by the millionth part of agrain. Both sometimes fail; both sometimes cure. Which is right?

We cannot pretend to answer the question; but in practice we hold withthe regular doctors. We do this because we are used to it. We may besaid to have been born with their silver spoon in our mouths; and weshould be terrified if the ghost of a grain went in instead. We havedone our duty from our youth up by pills, boluses, and draughts: we canlay our hand, with a clear conscience, on our stomach, and avouch thatfact. We have ever held our doctor in too much reverence to disobey him;and we revere him more and more every day, since we find him grapplingcloser and closer with the Homoeopathists, and meeting them manfully ontheir own ground. 'We will not, ' says he, 'give in to the absurdity ofattempting to counteract a disease by a medicine that produces the samedisease; but something good may be learned from your infinitesimalsystem. To that system you owe the fact that you are now at large: ifyou had given doses like ours of such medicines, you would have been inthe hands of the turnkey or the mad-doctor long ago. Your cures havebeen effected by your giving so little as not to interrupt nature in anyappreciable manner. But we will improve upon your placebos. If aninfinitesimal dose is good, no dose at all is better--and, except inspecial cases, _that_ shall henceforward be our system!'

Our readers may think this a jest; but it is actually the point atwhich, on the part of the Allopathists, the controversy has arrived. Avery intelligent and intelligible paper by Dr C. Radclyffe Hall, ofTorquay, has appeared in the _Provincial Medical and Surgical Journal_, in which the subject is treated in a pleasant and profitable way. He isaware of the difficulty there will be in introducing the new system--ofthe surprised stare with which the patient will regard the doctor 'doingnothing;' and as confidence is an important part of the cure, the rulecannot be made absolute. 'But as often as it can be adopted it should. By degrees, the doctrine will work its way, that medical attendants arerequired to survey, superintend, and direct disease, to watch lest harmaccrue unnoticed, to employ active remedies when required, or not tointerfere at all, as seems to their own judgment best. Every case ofsuccessful treatment without medicines will assist to indoctrinate thepublic with this view. By learning how much nature can do withoutmedicines, people will be able to perceive more correctly how muchmedicines, when they are necessary, can assist nature. '

The following is given as an example of a case of non-interference. 'Achild, above the age of infancy, is chilly, looks dull around its eyes, has headache, pain in the back, quick pulse, and no appetite. It is notknown that the digestive organs have been overtaxed. The case mayprove--anything. A local inflammation not yet made manifest by localpain; the commencement of continued, or remittent, or exanthematousfever; in a word, there is scarcely any ailment of children of whichthis may not be the commencement. _If_, on careful examination, no localdisease can be made out, we have no correct indication for specialtreatment. Give nature fair play. Put the child into a warm bed in awarm room, keep it quiet, stop the supplies of food, but not of water, and wait. When reaction takes place, if there be anything serious, itshews itself, and we then know what to attend to. Very frequently, thecase is one of mere ephemeral febrile disorder, from exposure to cold;and in two or three days, the child is perfectly well again, withouthaving taken either medicines or globules. But have we done nothing?When the heart was striving to restore the balance of the circulation, by adopting the recumbent posture, we gave it less work to do. Theequable warmth of bed was soothing to the nervous system, and solicitedthe afflux of blood to the surface. By abstinence, we avoidedministering to congestion of the viscera, and introducing food which, asit could not be properly digested, would decompose and irritate thestomach and bowels. ' Here the do-nothing doctor actually assistednature; he took care that she should not be thwarted in her operations, and he stood by watching the case, like an attorney at the examinationof a prisoner, who does nothing, but whose presence is essential to hisclient. If the usual counteracting remedies had been administered, adisease would have been induced, for which a process of convalescencewould have had to be gone through. If the globules had been givensimultaneously with the hygienic treatment described, Homoeopathyinstead of nature would have had the credit of the cure. 

'In all chronic blood-diseases, ' says Dr Hall, 'medicines are useful, but hygienic treatment'--the word is explained by the treatment of theabove case--'must rank the first. In all acute blood-diseases, when mildand occurring in a previously healthy constitution, as they must runthrough a special course, and last for a certain time, cases willfrequently do very well without any medicines. More frequently, a littlemedicine occasionally to meet a temporary requirement is serviceable;but in every case of this kind, however severe, the difficult point ofmedical judgment is, rather, when to do nothing, than what to do. Hygienic treatment is invariably necessary. Acting on the principle ofthe accoucheur, that nature is to be carefully watched, but that so longas she proceeds well, she is to be let alone, we shall meet with fewcases of illness in which we cannot find opportunities to judiciouslydispense with medicines. ' Another difficulty in adopting this systemmay be found in the doctor's fear, that if he dispenses with medicines, the patient may dispense with him; but we are of Dr Hall's opinion, thatthis is quite illusory. The only difference it will make will be, thatpatients will learn to trust more to the judgment of their medicalattendant, and less to the efficacy of his medicines. 

Hydropathy proceeds on the hygienic treatment, although doubtless in asomewhat rough manner. Air, exercise, rubbing, cold water, simplefood--such are its substitutes both for medicines and globules; and wethink the regular doctors might with great advantage take a leaf out ofits book, as well as out of the book of homoeopathy. With this reform, we would suggest--although with some timidity, for doctors are sensitiveon the point--that a re-examination, on broad scientific principles, even of common diseases, would do some good. Doctors are too fond ofsystems of treatment, which are not made to fit the patient, but whichthe patient is expected to fit. Diseases run their course, and so doremedies; but it might be well to inquire what relation there is betweenthe course of the one, and that of the other. The unvarying treatment ofa disease looks odd to a thinking bystander. The same medicines areadministered in case after case; the dose follows the symptom with thecertainty of fate. The patient dies--the patient recovers. What then?The doctor has done his best--everything has been according to rule!

The following are the rules laid down for practitioners on the newsystem:--

'1. Never prescribe medicines when hygiene will do as well and can beenforced. 

'2. Never permit the patient, or those around him, to expect more frommedicines than medicines can perform. 

'3. Never prescribe medicines, except avowedly as mere palliatives, whenthe period is gone by for them to be of ultimate service. 

'4. Never conceal the _general_ intention of the treatment; that is, whether it be adopted with a view to cure, or only to mitigate thedisease, or merely to alleviate a symptom or symptoms. 

'5. Never prescribe medicines more powerful than are necessary; orcontinue a powerful medicine longer, or repeat it oftener, than thedisease actually requires. 

'6. Never attribute to the medicine-giving part of the management of asuccessful case more than its due share of credit. '

We have called this a new system, but a new system is nothing without aname; and we therefore beg leave to suggest one, made up, like theothers, of a Greek compound. First, we have Allopathy, anothersuffering; then Homoeopathy, the same suffering; then Hydropathy, water-suffering; and now let us have Anapathy, no suffering at all. 

APPLICATION OF THE SIRENE TO COUNT THE RATE AT WHICH THE WINGS OFINSECTS MOVE. 

The buzzing and humming noises produced by winged insects are not, asmight be supposed, vocal sounds. They result from sonorous undulationsimparted to the air by the flapping of their wings. This may be renderedevident by observing, that the noise always ceases when the insectalights on any object. The sirene has been ingeniously applied for thepurpose of ascertaining the rate at which the wings of such creaturesflap. The instrument being brought into unison with the sound producedby the insect, indicates, as in the case of any other musical sound, therate of vibration. In this way it has been ascertained that the wings ofa gnat flap at the rate of 15, 000 times per second. The pitch of thenote produced by this insect in the act of flying is, therefore, morethan two octaves above the highest note of a seven-octavepianoforte. --_Lardner's Handbook_. 

A WELCOME SACRIFICE. 

BY THE REV. JAMES GILBORNE LYONS, LL. D. 

 Vain is the blood of rare and spotless herds, Pastured in meads where blue Clitumnus shines; Vain are sweet gums from lands that Indus girds, Or diamonds sought in deep Brazilian mines; Vain are Iberian fruits, and perfumed flowers, Rich as a Grecian sunset's purest dyes, If deemed, when worship claims thy holiest hours, For HIM IN HEAVEN fit gift or sacrifice. 

 The flocks that roam on thrice ten thousand hills, Each living thing that moves on shore and sea, The gems and gold which gleam in caves and rills, Saba's low shrub, and Lebanon's proud tree, The fragrant tribes that spring on cliff and field, That flush the stream, or fringe the smooth lake's brim, Breathe, burn, and bloom, at His high will revealed, And own with joy their Light and Lord in Him. 

 Our gains are His, and, laid before the Cross, These must of our oblations form a part, But oh! the choicest ores and gems are dross, If brought without that pearl of price--THE HEART. The poorest serf who fears a tyrant's nod, Whose inmost soul hard bondage racks and wrings-- That toil-worn slave may send unseen to God An offering far beyond the wealth of kings. 

 Come thou with breast from pride and passion freed, Hands which no stain of guilt has ever soiled, Feet swift and strong for every gentle deed, Faith, hope, and truth, by sordid crowds unspoiled; Come with a spirit full of generous love For all beyond, and all below the skies:-- Make ready thou, for Him who reigns above, The Christian's gift--A LIVING SACRIFICE. 

'MY TRAVELLING COMPANION. '

An individual, signing himself 'A Protestant Dissenter, ' has written tous, to remonstrate against one of the heroines of the tale in No. 424, with the above title, having been consigned by the author to theseclusion of a convent. As the same correspondent protests against the'Visit to an English Monastery' in No. 413, as something calculated tointroduce the wedge of Popery among our readers--the said article havinggiven much offence to our Catholic readers, and terrified all ourProtestant readers, but one, into thanking God for their ownfaith--perhaps it may be thought unnecessary for us to notice such acommunication. But this is only one of the reproaches we receive almostdaily, from all sides of the religious question. Our correspondents arenot satisfied with the well-known fact, that while retaining our ownopinions, we wilfully interfere with the opinions of no other man. Eachsecretly thinks we ought to side with _him_, and would have us sacrificeto this duty the usefulness of a journal which circulates freely amongall denominations of religion, and inculcates the practical part ofChristianity wherever it goes. We are tired of such correspondence--andthere is the truth. Let it be understood once for all, that ours is nomore a religious than it is a political mission. The supposed partytendency of expressions that occur here and there in our papers is theresult of mere chance; it may be detected as often on one side as onanother; and in no publication but our own does it rouse the acrimony ofpartisans. We give information connected with monasteries, churches, andconventicles, with equal impartiality; and if this is found otherwisethan useful or amusing, it is the fault of those who convert facts intosentiments. 

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