property which he has created, and then strip him of it entirely without giving him any remuneration for what we take from him. Let us admit, however, that the rights of the author and the public are not opposed to each other, but inseparably connected, and we shall get at a principle which will enable us to legislate for the benefit of each party simultaneously. It is just and reasonable that an author should get a fair profit from every copy of his book that is sold, and that in perpetuity. It is equally just and reasonable, that the public should have books supplied to them like food and clothes, by free competition, as cheap as possible, and that the valuation of the mind in the authorship should neither be left to the discretion of the tradesman or the caprice of the writer, but be fixed by competent authority at some equitable proportion, and in return for thus deciding the scale of remuneration to the author, the law should secure to him its regular and certain payment. Cheapness must not be attained by robbery. Let the author's fair remuneration be duly paid for every copy printed, and the supply of editions to suit the wants of every class of customers may safely be left to the management and competition of the trade. I would therefore entirely repeal the present Law of Copyright, for which I wonld substitute one on the following principle, though of course the details might be much modified. 1st. Every work published should be entered in Stationers' Hall, with the name of the author and present owner of the copyright. 2nd. Every author and his assigns if duly registered, shall have a perpetual interest in his work, subject to the following conditions. 3rd. An author's interest in his work shall consist of per cent. upon the published retail price of any edition, in whatever size or style it may be issued, which sum shall be paid to him through Stationers' Hall, before a copy can be sold. 4th. Any person shall be at liberty to print and publish any work, in any style, and at any price, and in any number, he thinks fit, but before he commences such printing, he shall give notice to the author or his assigns of such intended publication, with full particulars of the number he intends to print, and the price at which it is to be retailed to the public; and when the work is completed, before it is announced as ready for sale, he shall pay over to the author or his assigns - per cent. upon the retail price of the whole edition, and at the same time deliver to the author or his assigns, a declaration signed by the printer, of the number of copies printed, which shall also be printed on the first and last page of the work. 5th. The publication of any book before payment has been made to the author or his assigns, or any false declaration of the numbers printed, to be accounted felony, and the whole edition to be forfeited. 6th. All existing copyrights to revert to the authors, and their assigns, at the expiration of the present legal term of copyright. A law on the principles of the above propositions is such as I conceive would be substantially just to the author, and the public would have the benefit of free and unrestrained competition. It may be feared by some, that frauds on the author would be perpetrated, but when it is considered that many parties are employed in the getting out of one book, and that as legal editions would be cheap, there would be no temptation to sell illegal ones, this fear appears to be imaginary. A greater objection may exist in the minds of some from the thoughts that our printing excellence would degenerate, but this is a fallacy. Is no fine linen worn since calico became cheap, and are no Brussels or Wilton carpets used since common Scotch have been manufactured? To come nearer the point at issue; a bound Bible can be bought for ten-pence halfpenny, but these are not the only Bibles in use. It has frequently been remarked that Milton and De Foe sold their immortal productions for a mere trifle, while fortunes have been made by trading in their works. This is true, but it may further be said with safety, that if they had been copyright works, and their publication restricted to one party, few fortunes would have been made, and they would have been comparatively unknown to the present time. It may be considered an incontrovertible truth, that no work can be thoroughly developed by one house, however complete their business arrangements. It would be a most interesting illustration of my argument to make a collection of all the editions of Milton, Shakspeare' Cowper, and others, that are now published by the cheap trade' as they are termed by the magnates of Paternoster-row. Some authors, and Mr. Howitt among them I perceive, will only sell an edition to the bookseller; but this plan has a great disadvantage attending it, in that the bookseller has no temptation to spend money in making it known; for whatever he spends is so much taken from the profits of his edition to add to the value of the succeeding one; it is like expecting a yearly tenant to lay out capital on improvements for the landlord's benefit. These remarks might be considerably extended as to the effects likely to follow from such a sweeping alteration, but they are sufficient to draw attention to the principle, and to invite objections which may be discussed in a future paper. BURNARD THE SCULPTOR. W. [The following interesting facts we owe to a young friend.--Eds] of Wales which William Howitt has seen, for Burnard told me he We frequently saw Burnard the sculptor of a bust of the Prince had taken it into the Journal Office. He is the son of a Cornish mason or bricklayer, a tall, large, rough looking man, with great simplicity of manner and real genius. He dined with us twice and told us all his little adventures in the Palace. The little Prince sat to him eight days. A room was fitted up so uear the nursery that he often heard what he called "a rumpus" among the children. Miss Hillin was the Prince's attendant, gentleman was fully aware of his own importance, and always but though she familiarly called him "Princey," the young expected a stool to be placed for him when he wished to rest his royal feet. He was never still, but talked a great deal, and entreated Burnard to let him model his own face, so Burnard made him a cast to fill with clay, and amuse himself. With this he was very much delighted, and when he had filled his cast, he brought it to Burnard to look at, and being full of fun, he merrily dashed it in the poor artist's face. The Queen came into the room several times; "I could not forget she was the Queen," said Burnard, "and at first I felt nervous, but she talked to me, and her manner was extremely feeling and kind." Burnard's first attempts at anything like sculpture, were made upon his father's tomb stones; but when a young boy, he executed a medallion which so pleased Sir Charles Lemon, that he sent it to Sir Francis Chantry, in whose hands it remained for years. One day, Burnard accidentally meeting with Sir Davis Gilbert, the late President of the Royal Society was examining with him some work of art; "Yes," said Sir Davis Gilbert, "I never but once before saw anything so beautiful, and that was when Chantry shewed me a medallion executed by a poor Cornish boy." Burnard instantly recollected his early effort but without betraying himself, asked what Sir Francis Chantry had said about it. "He said," replied Gilbert, that he would advise that boy to go on, for he would certainly prosper." This was very encouraging, and Burnard is now progressing. This head of the Prince has been exceedingly admired, and he has been employed by several gentlemen in Cornwall. NEW CUT RAGGED SCHOOL. Blackfriars Road, are now nearly exhausted; and, if public We regret that the funds of the New Cut Ragged School, sympathy be not promptly excited on their behalf, the numerous destitute children of that demoralized locality, must be left a prey to ignorance, to crime, and to ruin. CONTENTS. Then and Now---John Huss before the Council of Constance-New Year Verses, by GoopwYN BARMBY---Day and Night at the Post-office, by GEORGE REYNOLDS (concluded)---The Poet's Mis sion, by HENRY SUTTON---The Royal Clock of Courtworshipton, translated from the German for Howitt's Journal---A French and Dishes, by SILVERPEN-A Peep at the Interior of New EngSoldier in Siberia, by WILLIAM KENNEDY---Fruits from Plates and, by W. HINCKS, F.L.S.---The Milliner---Literary Notices... Weekly Record. PRINTED for the Proprietor by WILLIAM LOVETT, of 16, South Row, New Road, in the Parish of St. Pancras, County of Middlesex, and published by him at 171, (corner of Surrey Street,) Strand, in the Parish of St. Clement Danes. PRICE 134. STAmped, 24d ABBY KELLY FOSTER, THE EMINENT AMERICAN ANTI-SLAVERY ADVOCATE. ENGRAVED BY W. J. LINTON. No. 56.-VOL. III. JANUARY 22, 1848. OUR NATIONAL DEFENCES. THE RATS IN THE likely that we should hear something of any preliminary STACK. BY WILLIAM HOWITT. preparations for so important a thing as the invasion of England, a thing not attempted for these ages past, and which Buonaparte with all his talent, power, almost universal victory, and with the most burning desire to conquer us-dared not undertake. It is rather likely that before such an army invaded our coast we should find an army somewhere, and a navy too to receive it. It is scarcely probable that our men of war would all contrive to get out of the way at such a crisis, and like wanted, Let us see the French once on the water before we are seriously alarmed, and before we accuse our navy and our army, to whom we pay twenty millions a year, of doing what they never yet did on any far less emergency than the invasion of their native land,—deserting their posts, and showing the white feather. AN old farmer, one John Bull, talking over the hedge of his rick-yard to his neighbour, expressed great alarm at a rumour which had reached him, through an old soldier who lived on his pension in the village, that incendiaries were meaning to come and burn down his cornstacks. He declared that he must apply to the magis-ordinary police, not to be able to be found when they were trates to have the yeomanry ready to keep the rogues in awe, and to send him a detachment of police to guard his rick-yard. "Make yourself easy on that account," replied his neighbour over the hedge, himself also a farmer, " for the yeomanry and the police would saddle the parish with a heavy debt, and, to say the truth, the danger to your stacks is of another kind. The rats are in them by hundreds, and if you don't thrash 'em out, it will be of little consequence how soon they may be burnt down. Thrash out your ricks, neighbour, and then you'll save your corn both from rats and incendiaries." John Bull took the advice, found a legion of rats that had already made dreadful havoc in the heart of his stacks, and conveying his corn to market, heard no more of the incendiaries, who were believed to have existed nowhere but in the old soldier's brain, who was getting superannuated, and talked in his sleep. The war-cry of the last few weeks raised by a certain old soldier who lives on his pension at Hyde-park Corner, has every day reminded us of the village John Bull. Let the John Bull look to it, and do like the honest farmer, for the danger is the same, and the remedy is the same. The folly of the cry of invasion has been sufficiently shown by a variety of the ablest journals in the country; we need not, therefore, go far into that part of the question, but the roguery of the cry wants yet more fully demonstrating. We are now quite satisfied of the self-evident truth of the fact that our alarmist is like the old woman in the nursery song "There was an old woman, God help her! Who lived in a hovel of dirt, The French once on land! Could such a thing bewhy the poor old soldier at Hyde-park Corner must have no knowledge of Englishmen if he does not know that every man in the country would spring up a soldier; every gun, pike, pitch-fork and poker would be converted into a weapon; from behind every hedge and out of every window, would pour forth the hail of death upon the invader. We would not give a pinch of snuff for the ten hour's lease of any Frenchman's life belonging to such an invading army. Let any one recollect the national furor on the threat of Buonaparte's invasion. The enrolling of volunteers, the spirit that burned and boiled in every bosom, from Land's-end to John o'Groat's! But enough! Punch has sufficiently shown up the turnip-lantern scarecrow of invasion, and has called out all the defensive force that is necessary,-the Brook-green volunteer. The French are dreaming of very different things to an English invasion.-Louis Philippe knows it-the meetings all over the country for Radical Reform tell it him; he has too much at stake to risk any such foolish speculation, and should he die, France will find enough to do at home in the unusual ferment and commotion that will follow as an immediate consequence. Besides this, the merchants, manufacturers, and proprietors of railways and other public works in France, She dreamed that thieves came to rob her and skelp her, would do on such an occasion, as they did on the very And she cried out before she was hurt. Every man is quite satisfied that while we have been accusing the French of designs upon us, they have been thinking more of what they shall do with Abd-el-Kader, and busying themselves with plans of reform of their own grievances. We have been reckoning without our host; counting our Gallic chickens before they are hatched; begging the French to come and invade us, whether they are inclined for it or not, and poor old Wellington-there could be no stronger proof of his superannuation, of his being no longer the prudent general that he was—has been obligingly informing them of all our weak points, and of the best way of getting to London with the least loss of time and labour. Every body is quite satisfied too, with the plain fact, that before the French invade us they must put their army in motion; that this will not be done without a good deal of stir and observation in France-and that all this stir and observation is not likely quite to escape the vigilance of our Government, or our journals. We have such things as a numerous embassage, consuls, agents, correspondents of newspapers daily on the alert for news, and daily writing thence; besides merchants and proprietors of railway shares, and their employés and agents all on the qui vive about their interests, besides hundreds and thousands of English subjects living in the chief cities of France, who in case of a war must cut and run. Out of all these sources it is rather last menace of a breach with England, hurry to the gland? The matter is no mystery-it lies plain and 66 All over 51 There lies the real danger! that is the real cause of this outcry! We agree with the old Duke so far, that there is imminent danger, and more-that there is need of war; But the danger is not from without, but from within-not from the French but the Normans. There is need of war, but war of another kind and directed into a different quarter. The enemy is already in the camp the plunder is going on. stack-the old Aristoc-Rats who, since the Norman inThe rats are in the vasion, in increasing numbers and ever growing audacity, have been tugging at the vitals of John Bull. We are tempted here, like Abernethy, to say to all those credulous patients who can imagine that their disease is the fear of invasion-"Read my book"-Read "John Hampden's History of the Aristocracy;" and learn what it is that ails you. See there the fearful exposée of the English Aristocracy, which from age to age has been extending its places and its power till it has swallowed up your whole constitution, Crown, Church, State, Colonies, Offices, and Taxes; has swamped your commerce, ruined your manufacturing system, reduced your population to beggary, overwhelmed you with a debt which is sinking you in national perdition, and raising all other nations on your ruins. MILLIONS, and for the past quarter, of nearly a MILLION AND A QUARTER, that we are asked to burden ourselves, with at least half a million a year more for National Defences! Why, the poor old Duke must be haunted with all the apparitions of the armies that he has slain in former days, and fancies that they are arising to invade and afflicted occupant, Haunted House, that at Hyde Park Corner, and its aged We shall have to publish the account of another us. Now, does it never occur to you, that there is still ancondition of both England and Ireland, if you see the imperative necessity of immediate and able measures other object in this cry of invasion? If you look at the for domestic relief and retrenchment, does it not strike you that the alarm is one of those delusions which are employed to divert your attention from the real evil and the demand of a remedy, to an imaginary one? Is not this cry of invasion merely a ruse to get over the session and the winter once more with empty talk instead of wise, prompt, and statemanlike measures? have war, but not with the French. Let us thrash out But let us at length answer to the war-cry! our stacks, and squander the rats while we have any Let us prompt, and universal movement to the system of profcorn left. In other words, let us put a stop by one bold ligate waste and corruption that is going on at home. Sixteen years of the Reform Bill, which was to have done such wonders, which was to have originated such sweeping retrenchments, such active measures for trade deepening, our trade perishing, our workhouses full, our ledgers loaded with catalogues of bankruptcy; and our government standing stock-still in the possession of all the unabated places, pensions and sinecures, which they denounced as so atrocious when in the hands of others. That is what you should look at: that is what you have to fear. With such stagnation in your trade, snch distress in your manufacturing districts; such bank ruptcy amongst your merchants, and starvation amongst your people, as never were known before, you are coolly asked to plunge yourselves once more into war-and what is our condition? Every year our distress that your vultures may flesh their beaks. There are so many younger sons unprovided for in that class that "cannot dig, aud who to beg are ashamed," that your property and persons are to be still further invaded. They ask you to revive that war-spirit that you are every day so wisely, so religiously, growing out of, to renew all these jealousies with France which have caused a rain of blood from age to age, and cursed you with the heaviest debt and the proudest aristocracy which ever cursed any nation. They ask you to give up your persons and your purses, your businesses, and your fire-sides, the society of your wives and children, to become once more the mechanical marching machines of despotism-the green geese driven to market by those who never either reared, lodged, or fed you. force militia ballotted out of every class, grade, and We want a militia, indeed! It should be a moral school of reformers, to march down on this citadel of domestic corruption, and throw it open to the light of day, Englishmen should cure themselves of this dreadful cacoethes loquendi; which has got such hold on them. They have talked long enough of their grievances, they should come to action--they should show the same front that they did for the Reform Bill, now for a better My good fellow countrymen, I think you are grown Reform,-a complete sweeping out of the Augean stable cause, for a thorough Parliamentary and Government somewhat more rational than that-I think you have of corruption. If that be not soon done, the mass of the something better to do. Do you want a ballotting for people reduced to wretchedness and despair, will be like the militia again? Do you want to be marched off the ass in the fable. They will, when told of invasion, from your homes, your looms, your spades, or your ask whether the enemy can increase their burdens or dishops, to lounge in barracks and polish belts with pipe-minish their food any more than their present masters, clay, or to have your money taken for substitutes. Now and will be indifferent to whom rules them. Till this is that is precisely what this poor old duke is asking for. done, till Reformers really unite and force on retrenchThis poor old man is either a willing tool or an unhappy ment, and the entire freedom of trade till parliamentadupe of the aristocracy. He knows as well as we do rians shorten their speeches and lengthen their demands that we already pay TWENTY MILLIONS FOR OUR MILITARY AND NAVAL ESTABLISHMENT, while the whole civil government of the country costs but SIX MILLIONS! If TWENTY MILLIONS A YEAR is not enough to defend this country, in the name of common sense what will be? If we pay more than three times the amount of all our civil Government for soldiers and sailors, and they are not enough to defend us, it is high time that we adopted Cobden's notion, and reduced our establishments and expenses altogether, and trusted to God, and the common interests of mankind. till we thrash out our stacks and squander the rats, we shall never be free from fresh demands upon our purses and our patience--nor from danger of real war, that our authoritic leeches and vampires may live. against this artful and interested cry of invasion--we We are glad to see the Peace Society taking the field give their address in the Record. But let every real Reformer take the field too. every town and village to remonstrate against any increase of our military expenditure, and demand the fulLet there be meetings in every department of the state. filment of the pledges of the Whigs for retrenchment in and the sooner the better. The truth can be no longer concealed, that there is no remedy for the distress and To that we must come, A Popular History of the English Aristocracy. By John taxation, representation, and commercial code. We ruin that every year sink the nation deeper and deeper, Hampden, jun. Published by Effingham Wilson, Royal Ex-must take off the restrictions from our trade, and put but a prompt, sweeping, and unflinching reform in our But let it be remembered that it is in the midst of unexampled distress, scarcity of money, and with a revenue showing a deficiency for the past year of upwards of Two change. them upon our rulers. Let those who will not work, be they of what class they may, be refused relief either from the parish or the nation. Let all blood-thirstyness nurtured in idleness be cured by the reduction to low diet, and the offer of a spade and mattock to win honest bread with. The most dangerous enemies are notoriously those of a man's own house. All we want is union and resistance to them. Till then we are every day and every hour suffering from invasion-invasion of our rights, of our property, of our profits, and our persons; and the real object of a militia, which can be of no use against the French, may, in the moment that we may be roused to seek redress from our own misrulers, be only discovered too well. KING PENGUIN, A LEGEND OF THE SOUTH SEA ISLES. PERCY JOHNSTONE was the only son of an English merchant, and had just left school full of all manner of desire to see the world and make his fortune. His father was rich; but Percy had a great notion that he should like to make his own way in life, and show his friends what he would have done if his father had been a poor man. He had learned to swim at school, and quickly rose to the surface. The ship, however, was by this time beyond the reach of his voice, which was lost amidst the sound of the winds. Oh, what wild anguish it was for poor Percy Johnstone to see the ship sail away into the darkness, deaf to all his cries; Here we must leave this unfortunate youth the waves for his life, yet not knowing in what direcwho would "go to sea; and while he is struggling in tion to make his efforts, we must say a few words about one of the islands of the South Atlantic Ocean, called South Orkneys. to be uninhabited. But that is a mistake. It is inThis island, like many others of its class, is considered habited by a large colony of Penguins, as fine a race of bird-people as any in the world. They are wonderfully active, intelligent, and aecomplished. Their abilities are displayed, not only in the air and the water, but upon the earth. They fly well; they swim and dive to admiration; and they always walk bolt upright. Their personal appearance, in the way of feather fashion, is most cleanly and peculiar. They invariably wear very long and very white pinafores, tied across the breast with black strings; and the sleeves of their coats-commonly called wings-are also black. Upon this island they lead an industrious and satisfactory life, passing their time chiefly in fishing, or else in walking about the rocks, and staring at things in general. They dwell in peace and excellent social arrangements under the mild sway of a sagacious and public-spirited King. over the sea. CHAPTER II. His father commended this feeling of independent action and industry in his son; he nevertheless wished that Percy would at once go to work in his countinghouse under his own eye. But Percy had read many ing his bird-people over the rocks, by way of a march One morning at day-break, as King Penguin was leaddelightful books of voyages and travels-those of Bruce and Humboldt, Captain Cook, and Belzoni, and Gulli- before breakfast-perhaps also with some thoughts of ver, and Sinbad;—and he had also heard many extra-finding a breakfast he descried an object at a distance ordinary stories related by captains of merchant-ships Weequim squawk squee!" cried all the who sometimes dined at his father's house. He longed youngest and least experienced Penguins, which in Pento go to sea. His pen was assiduous in the counting-guin-language signifies, "What wonderful, odd thing do we behold! "It is a floating nest," replied the King, with that calmness which characterizes great experience and wisdom," and what you imagine to be many wings flying over each other, are in truth impostorThese nests I have wings fastened upon tall bare trees. often seen before upon the water; they are called ships, On receivaud belong to a race of birds called men." ing this piece of information, all the young penguins flapped their little black wings, and cried out" Pshew squee-is that all!" house, while his thoughts were wandering far away. Perceiving this, his father, consented that he should make one voyage, in order to ascertain if it was a real wish and aptitude for a nautical life, or only a romantic fancy. "That you may have a true experience," said his father, "I cannot agree to your going merely as a passenger: you must be instructed on board in all the duties of a sailor." Percy consented with alacrity, and in a few weeks he went to sea in one of his father's vessels, bound for Monte Video and Rio de Janeiro. Many are born who have a passion for a sea-life until they try it. Some like it after trial; but they are very few indeed. To love a sea-life, you should be born at sea, or else take to it so very young, that you have scarcely time to know what a shore life is. Percy was seventeen years of age before he had been three weeks at sea; he found that it did not suit him at all; and at the end of six weeks. he made up his mind that he would never be a sailor. After Percy had recovered from sea-sickness, and could endure a gale of wind without many qualmy sensations, he still found the greatest difficulty in keeping awake during the night-watch, especially the midwatch. Week after week passed, and it was just the same. He continually crept under the lee of one of the deck-boats to sleep. as he could not hold his head up from fatigue and drowsiness. This being soon found out, he was obliged to find another place. Again and again his retreats were discovered, till one night when the vessel was running fast before the wind, he got out into one of the quarter boats, which are slung at a ship's sides, in doing which he missed his hold, and fell overboard 66 "But what do I behold!" exclaimed King Penguin, and is flapping upon the waves yonder! Surely it must one of the bird-men has surely fallen out of the nest, be so-the floating nest has swiftly sailed away, perhaps unconscious of its loss. Or have they sent him to do us some mischief with a pop bang? I have heard of such things. Why comes he hither?" cried all the young pen guins. "Does he bring a pop-bang under his wing, I wonder, said all the elder Penguins. 66 'I do not think so," said the King. "Is he good to eat?" cried all the young penguins, flapping their little black wings. "Silence!" exclaimed the King. Whereupon all the young penguins looked down at their toes, or hid their long noses in their white breast feathers. Of course, every one who reads this, guesses that it must be poor Percy Johnstone, concerning whom King tions. It was indeed the unfortunate youth, who once Penguin and his people are making all these speculafelt quite a passion for a sea-life-and who had had |