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a man ventures in the house to call upon them to touch it. Where is this to end? What do we hope for; or wait for? If in thirty years of peace we have only drifted farther into the great ocean of debt, what hope for reform or the people?

In the last fifteen years we have abolished one bad law-the Corn Law. But be it remembered that this law was only imposed in 1815, and that therefore if we except, and it is hardly worth while, the humbug of the Reform Bill, we have not really carried one great reform for the last half century into any of those regions of oppression and abuse which press on the energies and comforts of the nation. We can conceive no more pitiful and contemptible idea of a spiritless, grovelling, and dastardly nation. In England, after all our boasts of our love of liberty, we submit to the daily and unexampled plunder of the vultures of aristocracy with the tame baseness of slaves that deserve to be trodden till they are roused into the spirit of men, or crushed into the mire that they so much resemble. In this country Reform is a Farce; and political agitation an amusement. Any one seeing the uproar of a public meeting would look for a revolution the next day. But what occurs the next day? The man who got drunk over night, and the man who was drunk at the public meeting with political enthusiasm, who stood up, ranted, shouted, and waved his hat or his handkerchief, are equally sober-and are gone to work with the most asinine resolve to win a pound in the week, that the aristocrats may have 17s. 6d. of it in the shape of taxation. John Bull, who once was a fellow of spirit, has been bewitched by the fairies, and stands forth Bottom the Wearer with the Ass's Head! The French Government was running the same career, and from 1841 to 1847 increased the debt nearly four millions sterling. What did the French do? The most remarkable Week's Work yet upon record-Here it is

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Ever since we have had any experience of children, and the immense labour frequently required from nurses, especially labour of the arms, we have wondered that no machinery had been invented, and called in to the aid of both mothers, nurses, and children. What would both mother and nurse give on some occasions, if they could hand a young child over to another person, to toss it and amuse it, when they themselves are quite worn out, or required to do something else at the moment that the child will not rest without active nursing. How often would the child itself be enjoying a healthy and charming exercise, when it otherwise is compelled to lie on the floor or in the cradle, and become fretful because wanting that motion which nature indicates as the greatest requisite of all young creatures, next to food.

Our notions, however, always connected themselves with some piece of rather complex machinery-here is the object reached most completely by the simplest process in the world! India rubber does it all! India rubber supplies both springs and impetus, and wipes out all the lines of care from the child's face as completely as it wipes out every soil from paper. A cord partly of India-rubber-a circle of wire, a little jacket suspended within it, and the child snugly buttoned into this jacket, and away it goes, all joy and laughter, and would not thank you for the best of living nurses. Once in the Baby-Jumper, and it is independent of nurses. It is at once nurse and nursed. but its toes touch the floor, and all is right.

Let

Having seen the success of this simple and invaluable American invention in the family of a friend, we are enabled to speak

of it as it deserves. The American poet is serious when he
says-
The infant that, in modest days of yore,
Was wont to lie and kick upon the floor,-
That found its happiness in peaceful nap

In mother's arms, or nurse's soothing lap,
That never scorned to vent its rage in squalls;
And try its little lungs in deafening bawls ;-
Now, holding such small things its mind beneath,
Learns Calisthenics ere it cuts its teeth,
And while, in quiet, nurse or mother sleeps,
In "
Baby-Jumper" takes elastic leaps.

A PRETTY PARLIAMENT.

Why do we hear such outeries from Ministers for the augmentation of our National Defences? Why do we pay Twenty Millions a year for naval and military establishments in time of peace, besides Twenty-eight Millions a year for interest of a War Debt, and only six millions for all other Government charges? Why do we pay 17s. 6d. in the pound for military expenses, and the nineteenth part of a farthing for education? Why have we such distress in our manufacturing districts, and such a mass of ignorant and brutal idlers in our streets, ready for plunder and destruction? Behold the answer! And in the name of common sense, people of England, reflect seriously upon it!

The number of Military and Naval Men who have seats in the House of Commons is One Hundred and Forty-three, viz.—

3 Admirals

3 Lieutenant-Generals

3 Major-Generals

22 Colonels

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Besides upwards of 100 Military and Naval Officers in the House of Lords, and a large proportion of both Houses of Parliament, who, though not actually Officers themselves, hare Members of their families in the Army or Nary.

Ought these men to sit in Parliament and vote the money of the people into their own pockets? Is not the fact that they do so, a sufficient explanation why our military expenditure is increased upwards of Seven Millions in the course of the year 1847 over the year 1835-a sum greater than the produce of the Income Tax.

ARRIVAL OF MR. SULLY, THE ICARIAN AGENT AT NEW ORLEANS.

ceived a letter from Mr. Sully, dated New Orleans, 8th of Febru We are pleased to see in the Populaire, that M. Cabet has reary, announcing his arrival in that city, in order to prepare for Havre on the second of the same.month. the reception of the advance-guard of the Icarians, who left He had already met with various gentlemen, amongst them M. Dominique Testa, M. Vavasseur, M. Weitling, and others, who gave him the greatest rían settlement, and its ultimate success. encouragement regarding the choice of the location for the Icaco-operation and friendship. Nine different persons were anxThey promise every ious to accompany Mr. Sully or the advance-guard to the settle

ment.

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PRICE 1d. STAMPED, 2d

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LETTERS FROM PARIS.

(For Howitt's Journal.)
No. II.

THE PARIS OF THE REVOLUTION.

DEAR FRIENDS,

pared for the banquet. It was in vain they looked; the courage of the deputies had failed, and Guizot and Barrot were enveloped in the same reprobation by the deserted people. Some of the crowd then directed their way to Guizot's hotel, and to other points, but were dispersed by the soldiers. At noon three barricades were formed in the Champs Elysées, and the troops of the line sent to destroy them, fraternized with the people. Meanwhile numerous collisions had occurred in other parts with the soldiers and the populace, and the Chambers were alarmed. At five o'clock the rappel beat in every street for the National Guard, who united to maintain order, but still shouted "Reform for ever!" The solthe "Marseillaise" and the "Chant des Girondins" filled the air with thunder. In vain, for the people had in various parts of the town been ruthlessly slaughtered. In vain, for the workmen had arms or seized them. The night, however, closed in; and the fatigued people retired as human beings to arise as heroes.

In Paris itself, let us take a review of the most external part of the movement of February. Let us glance at the ruins it has made. Let us note the monuments it has erected. This will prepare the way for a deeper consideration of the events of the Re-diers were mustered in all their strength. In vain! for volution of '48. This will form a fit preface to an account of the parties and theories, which have been active since that grand change. My materials may wholly be depended upon, and they will be new, as they are selections from the pamphlets; and not compilations from the journals. The personality of the recital is, however, sometimes preserved, as I pass through the streets of Paris, book in hand, or accompanied by a friend.

My first sight was the Tuileries and the Palais Royal. Royalty was fled. The simple inscription-" Proprieté Nationale!"-National Property-placed upon its walls, proclaimed the Republic, and constituted its safeguard. There were still, however, some remains of royalty to be seen. Piled in a rude and ragged heap, in the enclosed part of the Place du Carrousel, was a mixed mass of rubbish, which had once been used by used-up Royalty. There it rotted, a confusion of papers from palace walls; of crockery, not delph, but china, of jelly shapes; of hair-brushes; of all comprehensible conveniences; of all rascally rags. There it rotted; a hashed heap of regal rubbish, which the people of Paris had thrown out of the windows of the Palace of the Nation. It has since stunk and is removed. The Tuileries is intended to have an entire new order of inhabitants. It is to become the palace of the soldiers of industry, of all those valiant strugglers who return disabled or mutilated from the manufactories, the mines, or the workshops. At least this is the view of the Provisional Government, which will most probably be ratified by the National Assembly. It is a grand idea this, that the palace of kingcraft should become the asylum of industry! Before the Revolution, which has originated this idea, let us not forget that there were no political rights, no association allowed for demanding them, a parliament which represented not the country, a budget with a deficit of six hundred millions, and a diplomatic body which had received an express mission to sustain the absolute powers in their attempts upon lesser nationalities. Then who will not exult to see France as she is, and not as she

On the morning of the 23rd, about sixty workmen in blouses made their appearance by the Fish-market, preceded by a tambour, and led by a man with a long beard, who waved in his hands a small tri-coloured flag. Here they attempted to construct barricades, but were prevented by the approach of a body of infantry. These latter, however, were met by power of another nature, by the market-women, who with a poetry which their appearance would not imply, cried to them, "Friends, spare our husbands, our sons, our brothers!" and delayed them with presents of provisions. The brave little band, meanwhile, continued its way without a cry or singing-with a wondrous silence, and stopped at length without interruption in the Rue Poissonniere. Here they overturned carriages, pulled up the pavement, and soon formed a barricade. A second was made in the Rue Clery, a third in the Rue Neuve Saint Eustache, and a fourth in the Rue Thevenot. The position was admirable; and I am informed that the four barricades were all made in three quarters of an hour; and that not a musket was pointed against the soldiers until the Municipal Guards had fired on the people. Other barricades wherever there was a coigne of vantage were erected. We would instance only those in connexion with which, we believe, we have some information, unknown to the English public. A troop of soldiers of the line approached to attack the barricade in the Rue St. Martin. A young man of fifteen, almost enveloped by a flag which he held in his hand, went upon his knees in the most exposed position, and exclaimed with a resolute voice-It is your flag, fire if you have the courage!" The example of this intrepid youth was followed by the other citizens. As if by common accord, they rushed upon the barricade, and placing themselves Let us joyfully then make the tour of Paris in the before the muskets, and pointing to their hearts, cried route of the events of the Revolution. Early in the out, "Strike if you dare, the citizens without arms!" morning of the 22nd of February, large bodies of people The soldiers, who had taken aim, resumed their musof all classes, but chiefly workmen, were seen moving kets and refused to use them. The act of the brave to the west of Paris. They were proceeding to the ban- youth is already preserved in an engraving. Another quet of the 12th Arrondissement, which had been, con- young man had been arrested on the Boulevard Bonnetrary to all law and liberty, forbidden by the Govern- Nouvelle. His comrades collected around the guardAt ten o'clock the students of law and medicine, house shouting for his release. The soldiers menaced met together on the Place of the Pantheon. There about them with firing. "Never mind," they answered. Do eighteen hundred of them formed in two files, appa- your duty and we will do ours." In despite of the bayrently under the direction of a young man of colossal onets, they scaled the wall of the guard-house, entered stature, and commenced their march. When they ar- by a window, delivered the prisoner, disarmed the solrived at the quays, they met and fraternized with a pro-diers, fired their muskets into the air, and then returned cession of two thousand workmen, descending from the them, crying out "The Line for ever!" amid the plauFaubourgs. Half-past eleven was the hour fixed for the dits of the crowd, astonished by this act of chivalrous general meeting at the Madeleine. Before that temple valour and generosity. At noon, barricades appeared of a church, an immense multitude united from all everywhere. There is scarcely a street in Paris, cerquarters of Paris. All eyes were turned to the Cafe tainly not a place of any military importance, in which where the Radical Deputies were accustomed to meet, there are not indications of where they were formed. At and were to have given the signal for the march to the four o'clock the fight was general. The ground was disChamps Elysées, where a covered place had been pre-puted step by step. The barricades were raised, were

was?

ment.

destroyed, and arose again. Then a lull was caused by the report of M. Guizot's resignation, and for a while the soldiers and the people absolutely fraternized at their late mortal rendezvous. The illusion was soon, however, dissipated. At ten o'clock one of the popular columns, specially composed of the workmen of the Faubourgs, were seen to march along the Boulevard of the Opera. Their movements were marked by a certain harmony and order, even by a kind of discipline which distinguished them from the other workmen. At their head advanced, arranged in a line, seven or eight young working men, bearing torches and three coloured flags. About four feet behind these, marched singly an officer of the City Legions, in his full uniform, and sword in hand. To him belonged the command of the columnAfter him came a strong body of National Guards, and then a long orderly array of workmen. From street to street, this patriot procession proceeded, now saluting the house of some worthy citizen, and now singing the hymns of the people, until it reached the end of the Boulevard des Capucines, where it found formed before it, an impenetrable wall of soldiers. They were two companies of the 64th Regiment of the line. The procession continued its way not the less, until they found their torch-bearers in contact with the front rank of the infantry, when the order to halt was given, and their chief advanced to the commander of the soldiers, and requesting a passage, stated that the manifestation was only a pacific one in favour of Reform, and promised to preserve order. The request was refused, and after some struggling between the nearest of the adversaries, the command was given for the soldiers to fire. Two hundred muskets were thus discharged upon the unarmed and compact crowd. The murderous consequence was horrible. The terrible intelligence passed electri cally from street to street. The rest of the night was passed in solemn silence. It was the calm before the storm. The men burnished their arms for the morning's battle. The women prepared bandages for those whose duty it was to be wounded on the morrow.

The morning of the 24th arose. I have no occasion to give all its details. I would merely note those places which I have visited which have been consecrated by heroic acts; or made remarkable by their occurrences. Such was the site of the barricade in the Quartier St. Martin, now only recognizable by the loosened stones of its pavement. As it was being formed, a battalion of the line marched up to the insurgents, and prepared to fire. A workman advanced to the soldiery, and called out,-" Observe, Commander, that our barricade is not finished, and we are not yet prepared to defend it; but come and meet us here in an hour." The officer looked at him, smiled, and defiled his troop, but never returned. In the barricade of the Rue Mauconseil, a still more astonishing event occurred. While it was attacked by the military, from time to time, a young man appeared at the very top of the intrenchment, entirely exposed himself, calmly charged his musket, adjusted it with sang froid to his shoulder, and each time shot a soldier. The detachment fired upon him, but not a ball wounded him. Ten times did he perform the same gallant action. The commander of the troops then ordered his soldiers not to fire on him again, and when the young man perceived this determination, he ceased to load his gun, and retired from the fight, to appear no more, either for fight or fame. A most glorious refutation was this young man, of Burke's assertion, that the age of chivalry had passed away. Occurrences like this stand out like statues of the Gods amid the groupings of the Revolution. No wonder that the people conquered, when, as in the old epics, the heroes of heaven descended as their leaders. The King fled. The people marched to the Tuileries, and found it evacuated. Finally, the Provisional Government was

instituted and the Republic proclaimed. The 22nd was to have been a banquet, the 24th was a victory. The most perfect order now reigns in Paris, although Paris is entirely under the controul of the people. What strikes you most in the Paris of the Revolution is this. The population is no longer, as with Louis Philippe awed by soldiery. You see the sentinels of the Garde Nationale Mobile, as it is called, at the usual posts, in the simple dress of citizens, distinguished only by an inscription on pasteboard fixed to their hats. Thus you will see a lad in a blouse, shouldering his musket, and pacing to and fro at his post, with a most military air during the cold night. Of course a uniform will be introduced as soon as possible; but the want of it at present shows in whose hands Paris is placed, and that the people know how to preserve order. Otherwise Paris is as it was, except that everywhere you see where the barricades have been, by the loosened stones, by the smoke -blackened, and sometimes destroyed houses in their neighbourhood. Except moreover, and this is a great exception, that its inward life, its intellectual existence, is most vividly quickened by the events of February, that Paris is papered with placards, that the rage for news is almost ridiculous, that new songs, new music, new engravings, new costumes celebrate the Republic, that new journals are jerked rather than born into existence, and that finally, clubs have become common everywhere, and everywhere are over-crowded. these things I shall give more particulars in my future letters. Yours very faithfully,

GOODWYN BARMBY.

A STORY ABOUT BANVARD.

Of

EVERY one, or, at least every American, has heard of Banvard, and many have read his adventures, as published in the descriptive pamphlets of his great Picture of the Mississippi. But he is the hero of an adventure which is not published, and which is rather too good to be lost. It is generally known that he speculated in a variety of ways on the treacherous Mississippi, to get money to help him through his object.

One of these speculations consisted in fitting up a flat-boat as a museum of paintings, which he floated from town to town, exhibiting these paintings to the inhabitants thereof. He stopped" for one night only" at the little, and almost deserted town of Commerce, Mississippi, and which can be seen in the panorama, a short distance below Memphis. During the exhibition, there was one man who appeared very consequential, and wanted to know if the proprietor had a license for exhibiting his painting? He also said as the "Squire" was out of town, he would assume the responsibility, and collect the license-money himself. Mr. Banvard observed that the exhibition was not in the town, but on the river, and that he had a State license, which gave him the privilege of exhibiting where he pleased within the jurisdiction of the State.

"I can't help that," said the self-appointed magistrate, with all the consequence of a 'real genuine squire.' "We calculate to have a large town here some of these days, and we want money in our treasury, and as you is making a small sprinklin' off the place, you might as well leave a little on it behind; so fork over the license money.

Banvard found he had an ugly customer to deal with, and was so well acquainted with the people of the wild region, that he knew it was best to get off as easy as possible; for, at a word, this fellow could have the whole town at his back, who would be delighted

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fel-bow of the boat, "for, as I take it, we are now about one and a half mile below."

"How much is your license?" said the exhibitor. I don't zackly know, but I suppose I will make it ten dollars."

"Ten dollars! why, my dear sir, I have only taken about six or eight dollars."

"Can't help that; I want the ten dollars, or we good citizens will 'odfisticate' this boat for you."

6

"But some other good citizen' may demand another ten dollars on the same plea," observed Banvard.

"I will 'sume the responsibilities of my fellow citizens, as I am the only responsible person in the town of Commerce.'

"Well, sir, since you assume the responsibility, just sit down and view the painting, and after the exhibition is over, I will pay your demand; my business calls me at present."

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Why didn't you let me know you were going?" said Consequence, his ardour a little cooled, when he found the boat afloat, and himself trapped.

"Why didn't we let you know? why, for a very good reason we didn't know ourselves. One of your good citizens, as you call them, cut our line loose before we knew it," replied the man.

"What line?" inquired Banvard-"the new one I bought in Memphis last week?"

Yes, sir," replied several of the hands at once. "Put me ashore," shouted the would-be dignitary. "Not until you pay me damages for my line, which some of your good citizens cut for me," answered Banvard. "You said you would be responsible for their acts, and you were the only responsible person in town. My line cost me fifteen dollars; you say I owe you ten; now pay me five, and we will be even; and then I will have you put ashore."

"But, sir," rejoined the man, "do not take me off! have a suit pending, and I will lose it if I am not there to see it. Put me ashore, and I'll say nothing about the license."

Mr. Consequence then walked into the large room where the exhibition was going on, and Mr. Banvard turned to his hands, and giving them directions to have all the lines on board, except the bow line,' and to un-I swing the oar, with poles set ready for starting at a moment's warning, suspecting the fellow would raise a row. After the exhibition was over, and the good citizens began to make tracks for home, the 'collector' remained behind and demanded his money.

"Certainly," said the proprietor; "just step back into the cabin with me, and you shall have it;" and back he walked as one of the hands was extinguishing the lights used for the paintings. Just as he and Banvard reached the little cabin, by some accident Mr. B. contrived to extinguish the only remaining light, and both were shut in utter darkness. In the meantime all the spectators had left the boat, and she swung back and forth, being held only by the one line at the bow, and the current was rushing furiously by her. It was the intention of Banvard to cast the line loose as soon as the last spectator got on shore. But this last spectator saved him the trouble, for seeing the situation of the boat he thought it would be a fine joke to tell that he cut her loose. This fellow, not aware that the wouldbe magistrate was on board, out with his bowie knife, severed the line and ran off. The hands on the bow perceiving the boat dropping astern, suspected what was done, and taking hold of the line found it cut. They immediately drew what remained of it on board, poled the boat off noiselessly into the current, and all on board were rapidly floating off on the dark bosom of the Mississippi, at the rate of six miles an hour.

66

Come, make haste," said Consequence, after Mr. B. had succeeded in re-lighting the lamp,-"I want them are ten dollars in a hurry."

"Certainly, sir, as soon as I find the key of my trunk. You see, sir, my receipts are only eight dollars to-night, and I must get from my trunk the balance of the money. Can you change a twenty-dollar bill ?"

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Well, I can hoss. I got to go to court to-morrow, and I just put that sum into my pocket-hand over your bill."

"Yes, sir, as soon as I find the key to my trunk." 'Hang it, have I got to wait here till morning for the money?" said Consequence, who began to smell a little of the rat.

Certainly, unless I find the key before that time." "Never mind the key; just hand me over the eight dollars you have, and let the balance go, we will not quarrel about trifles. Do you hear? or I will have the town about your ears."

"Yes, I hear," said Banvard, as he reached over the head of his berth, and coolly took down a pair of revolving pistols. The fellow seeing this retreated towards the door, shouting out, "Hullo, ashore there!"

"You'll have to call a little louder than that to be heard at town," responded one of Mr. B.'s men, on the

"Not until you pay me five dollars damages, for having my line cut; and if you do not, I will take you to Vicksburg, and have you committed to prison, for endeavouring to rob a man under false pretences."

;

"Well, sir, step towards the light, and get the five dollars;" and taking out his pocket-book, Consequence stepped to the light, and gave the five dollars, when B. gave orders to have him set ashore. The hands then told him they would not risk themselves in a small boat at night, among the snags, without being well paid for it and Mr. Consequence was forced to give them each a dollar, for which they set him ashore in a thick canebreak, on the opposite side of the river, about three miles below the town. How he got home that night is best known to himself. We venture to say he never meddled with business that did not concern him after passing that night among the musquitoes and alligators. -Boston Bee.

FEBRUARY STANZAS.

BY FERDINAND FREILIGRATH.
Written in London, February 25, 1848.
Translated by Mary Howitt.

AMONG the Alps the first shot rang

'Gainst priests was vengeance seething!
They fell-no bosom felt a pang,
The mighty avalanche onward sprang-
Three realms their swords unsheathing!
Green laurels wreath the Schweitzer's brow;
The ancient granite mountains now
For joy shake to their centre!

Through Italy the storm careered-
The Scyllas and Charybdis'
Vesuvius called; old Etna cheered;
On every side bold fronts appeared!
-Most ominous, ye princes!
To gay Vienna shouts Berlin,
Vienna echoes back the din,

Even Nicholas is affrighted!

And now again, as heretofore
That pavement is upriven,
Where freedom's arm a falchion bore
And from the royal palace-door

Two kings ere now hath driven;

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