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have removed town-crosses for no rational purpose, we should hope that the restoration of these interesting and ornamental objects will not be lost sight of.

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THE USE OF THE TERM ESQUIRE.

began to doubt whether the pleasure of keeping a dog | compensated for the pain inflicted by the said dog's occasionally taking it into his head to bite his master. Now, dear reader, perhaps you may laugh at this story of an idiot in a northern town; and, having done so, let us try to extract something useful from it, and ask ourselves whether there be not many idiots

nection would go. Other people overwork themselves, and so must I!"

I

One night last week I was returning from a lecture, when I was startled by a groan close to me. directed my eyes towards the spot whence the sound appeared to proceed, and discerned, by the light of a neighbouring gas-lamp, a man lying at full length in the gutter. He had put his hat under his head for a endanger the repose of every inhabitant of the street. I was willing to give him the chance of securing a better resting-place, and therefore shook him by the shoulder. This only succeeded in rousing him partially. He drew a long sigh, rolled over on his other side, and muttered drowsily, "More gin!" It would have been inhuman in the extreme to allow him to lie there. I once more, therefore, applied myself to the pleasing task of benevolence, and administered a kind but smart kick, which was so far effective that the inebriated individual opened his eyes, sat up in the gutter, and stared around him with an air of

Till a recent period, this term was affixed to the names of men of birth and professional persons only. Men of inferior importance had Mr prefixed to their names, and thus a distinction between the two classes in other towns, northern, southern, eastern, and west- pillow, and was snoring with such vehemence as to was kept up. Now it is quite customary to add Esq." to the names of the better class of tradesmen, when they are addressed as private persons. It is a trifle, yet it might have been better if the old rule had been adhered to; for, in the first place, the extension of the term is grammatically wrong, seeing that it is only applicable to men entitled to bear arms; and in the second, if there is any honour in the appellation, it is right that the superior class should have it, in which case it would serve as one of the incentives which work upon the ambition of the mercantile classes, prompting them to the industry which leads

to honours.

It appears, however, that the tendency of honourable terms is ever, like that of glaciers, downward. In the seventeenth century, in Scotland, the term Mr was reserved for clergymen, barristers, and other persons of consequence, while the mercantile classes only had their naked names. Mr then came down to the mercantile classes, from whom it is now going to the better class of working men. So, also, Sir, which originally signified a lord (sihor, Gothic), has gradually descended till it is applied to nearly every reputable

person.

APPLAUDING MACHINE.

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ern, who would despise the simplicity of Jamie, and yet who do the very same thing themselves; who pay as much deference to the foolish doings of "other people;" who, like him, keep a dog merely because their friends and neighbours keep dogs; and who, like him, get well bitten for their pains. Yes; the mass of mankind is made up of "Jamies ;" and Jamie's town may represent the world.

Old Potts gives, once every year, a grand party of seventy people, with chandeliers, a quadrille band, ices, and champagne. Why he did so, I could never conceive, as he is a merry widower, free from family cares, and, above all things, partial to a quiet rubber. On a late festive occasion, as I stood fixed tightly in a doorway, the master of the revels came towards me through the throng, looking exceedingly uncomfortable, and wiping his forehead with a huge white mouchoir. "Ah!" exclaimed he, noticing me in the throng. "Hot work. Isn't it? I'm as tired as if I had been walking twenty miles."

"It is very kind of you to take so much trouble on account of your friends," said I, feeling that I ought to say something, and not knowing exactly what to say.

six or eight!"

"Then why ask sixty or eighty?" said I, reciprocating the tone of confidence. "Ah, my dear young friend," said Potts, shaking his head; 66 you don't understand these things. By and by, when you keep house, you'll know better. 1 invite a crowd, now and then, and cram my small rooms, because it's the custom-because it's the custom-nothing more! Other people do so, you know, and not to be singular, so must I!"

When attending public dinners, at which the staple business generally consists in giving and receiving toasts, we have often thought it would be a great improvement if a machine were invented to applaud, "Ah!" said Potts, bending towards me in a confiand thus save the company from the very arduous dential manner; "I hate these crowds, my dear young duty of "giving the honours." It might be advan-friend-I hate them! Nothing like a snug party of tageous if the machine could be made to utter a few set terms, such as "Once, twice, thrice, hurrahhurrah!" with a thundering sound to resemble a clapping of hands at each of the intervals, or to give the equally common terms-"Hip, hip, hurrah!" Any way would do, and, indeed, the machine would be invaluable, if it only gave such sounds as clapping of hands, rufling on the table, and the hurrahing, the speaking part being left to the performance of the toast-master. As the company at a public entertainment is usually called on to give the honours perhaps not fewer than twenty times in the course of an evening, the work is rather fatiguing in warm weather, independently of the tiresomeness of going through the same performance so frequently. An applauding machine appears to us, therefore, to be a decided "desideratum," and we hope the hint will not be lost on the active geniuses of the age who are looking about for objects on which to employ their talents. The machine could not fail to pay," as it might be patented, and licenses sold for its use. No company, surely, would grudge ten shillings being added to the bill for the loan of a good applauding apparatus.

"OTHER PEOPLE."

I REMEMBER once to have heard the following story. In a certain northern town lived a worthy man who had an only son. This son was universally set down by the townsfolk as an idiot: the father called him weak. One morning as his father sat in his study busily employed, Jamie rushed in, and stood with his face glowing, his hands working, his feet uneasily moving backwards and forwards, and every gesture evincing that he had something important to communicate, and was too nervous to communicate it. "Well, Jamie," said his father, encouragingly, "what is it?"

"I want something, father," answered Jamie. "Well, Jamie, and what is it you want?" "I want a dog, father," answered Jamie. "A dog?" exclaimed the astonished parent; "and what can you want with a dog?"

"I just want it,” said Jamie, twirling his thumbs, and looking down.

"But what for?" again asked his father. "Well, I don't exactly know," replied Jamie, still twirling his thumbs; "but I want it."

"Tell me what you want with a dog, and you shall have one," said the father; "but I certainly should not like to trust you, unless you show that you have some object in view."

Everybody in our town keeps a dog but me!" cried Jamie, indignantly, and beginning to whimper. "There's Sandy Donaldson, and Willie Allison, and Rob Gordon, and Wattie Campbell, all keep dogs! Other people keep dogs, and why mayn't I keep a dog too?"

It was impossible to resist laughing at, or granting a request backed by so exquisite a reason. The father had his joke, and Jamie had his dog; but within a week Jamie was laid up with a lacerated leg, and

The neighbourhood of Square is thrown into a constant fever of excitement by the incessant pianoforte practice of Miss Isabella Hawkins, the youngest and the most musical of four sisters. I made into the drawing-room, where I found Miss Isabella a morning call there the other day, and was ushered alone, and hard at work on the "Mosé in Egitto" fantasia of Thalberg. It was a trying situation; and that I had not interrupted practice-to beg that she I thought it better, under the circumstances, to hope of than music. Accordingly, she favoured me with would proceed that there was nothing I was fonder the entire fantasia from beginning to end-from the first mysterious whisper to the final spirit-stirring bang. I heard it without wincing, and at the conclusion was profuse in compliments and thanks, as in duty bound: the only qualification to my pleasure being a fear that the fatigue had been too much for her.

in a state of palpitation; " particularly as I don't like "Why, it is a great exertion," said she, leaning back music. Of all things on earth, I detest pianoforte practice most."

"You not like music?" exclaimed I; "you who play so delightfully?"

It was the genteel thing to say this, you know; but the fact is, she plays but tolerably-misses half the notes, and "fudges" the other half. Still, she insists on playing Thalberg, and her friends are expected to listen.

"I assure you I care nothing for music," she repeated; "and as for the piano, I hate it-I hate the very sight of it!"—and she looked quite viciously at the poor instrument

"I wonder that you practise so hard then?" said I, innocently.

mation" mamma makes me, or I never would touch "Mamma makes me !" said Isabella, with great aniit from year's end to year's end! Oh, you can't think how cross she is if I don't practise every morning; and nothing under three hours will do. I'm sure I wish the piano in the fire! But what's the use of wishing? Other people practise, she says; so must I" rants, and raisins, and matters of that sort. Smith's Smith is a merchant, and deals in spices and curlife is very mercantile and stupid. He leaves his house at Brixton Hill every morning by a quarter past eight, and arrives at his counting-house in the city by a little past nine. Here he toils until the evening, and then, riding home again, he eats a hearty dinner, and tries to digest it until bed-time. Of course, no constitution can stand this irrationality, and Smith is often very ill, and never at all well. "But, then," as he says, how is it to be avoided? The physician cise, to indulge in relaxation of mind; sir, it can't be tells me to apply less to business, to take more exerdone. I must be at my desk by nine, and remain there till six; and it would never do for me to lose time by walking. If I flagged for an instant, my con

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bewilderment.

"Come, get up," said I, "or you'll find this bed rather too damp for your rheumatism! You'll kill yourself!"

"What's the matter? Who are you?" exclaimed the inebriated individual, rubbing his eyes, and not yet capable of appreciating the exact condition of affairs. "Never mind who I am," said I. "Get up, unless you want to end your days in a gutter. How came you to be in this state, you dissipated character?"

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Why, master," exclaimed the man, "what's the odds of getting up? It's a good enough place to sleep in. You an't one of them temperance set, I 'spose, as wants us to live on bread and water. A drop of gin can't hurt nobody! Besides, you should do as the rest of the world does-that's what I always say! Other people drinks-and, in course, I may !"

Now, tell me, reader, is not the mass of mankind made up of "Jamies ;" and may not Jamie's town represent the world.

THUROT, THE NAVAL PARTISAN. FRANCOIS THUROT, an adventurer of the Paul Jones class, whose career presents some remarkable points of interest, was born in the year 1727, at Nuits, in Burgundy. According to the best accounts, his paternal grandfather was an Irishman of the name of Farrell, a captain in the Irish army of James II., and one of the exiles who followed that monarch's fallen fortunes. While attached to the establishment of

James at St Germains, Captain Farrell gained the affections of Mademoiselle Thurot, niece to a member great indignation of her relatives. The latter discounof the Parliament of Paris, and wedded her, to the tenanced the pair in every way; and it was only on the decease of both that their son was adopted by his Thurot. In the course of his mature years, this indimother's friends, and received their family name of brought him the son whose history we are about to revidual was three times married, and his second wife late. She died in giving the child birth; and while he was being carried to the font, the mother was receiving the last offices of humanity in the adjoining place of sepulture. An incident of some importance to the boy at a future period, was the consequence of this somewhat striking circumstance. It was customary at that time for ladies of rank to go to the churches any of the children that might be brought there for about Christmas, and offer themselves as sponsors for baptism, with the charitable view of doing some good to them in their after lives. One Madame Tallard offered in this way to be sponsor for young Thurot; and being led to inquire into the cause of his father's obvious and unusual grief, she was so much moved by what she heard as to make the boy a handsome present, and to promise to do something for him in succeeding years. The promise, it will be found, was not forgotten.

The English memoir-writers say that all these things took place at Boulogne, but the French Biographical Dictionary informs us that the Thurot family were at this time resident in Burgundy, and that Francois was sent by his father to the Jesuit school of Dijon, in order to learn the art of surgery. boy showed an unconquerable passion for adventure, We are also told, by the same authority, that the and military or rather naval affairs, and that he ran off, when about fifteen years old, to the seaport of Dunkirk. Either at the latter place, or at Boulogne, he appears to have become acquainted with one Farrell, an Irishman, who followed the profession of a smuggler. man and young Thurot, in consequence of which the The name of Farrell led to an acquaintance between this latter was induced to make a voyage to Ireland, being told that the O'Farrells were still a flourishing house in Connaught, and that he might there get into the way of advancing his fortunes. After voyaging as far as the Isle of Man with his Irish cousin, the highspirited lad took some offence at his conductor, and chose to stay on the island behind the vessel. world was now before him where to choose;" and his first thought was to enter on board of any vessel that came in the way. But none touched at the time

The

at the island, and Thurot was glad to earn his bread by becoming servant to a gentleman from Anglesey, of the same disreputable profession with Mr Farrell. The Anglesey smuggler was indeed old in the trade of “run

ning goods," and, taking a fancy for the handsome, active French youth, employed him in various commissions betwixt Man and the Anglesey coasts. Here Thurot learned the English tongue, and acquired that strong taste for naval adventure which characterised him through life, as well as that skill and experience in contraband trading no less characteristic of his after years. Growing wearied of his position, Thurot seized an opportunity afforded to him of visiting Dublin, probably having some curiosity about his Irish relations. Being furnished, at his arrival, with only eleven shillings, he soon fell, as may be imagined, into a state of distress, and found himself obliged to enter the family of Lord B, in the capacity of valet. The handsome Frenchman, however, excited some unpleasant suspicions in that family, and was forced to shift into that of another nobleman, who dwelt in a country situation by the sea-side. For a time Thurot was here occupied in rural sports; and entering into them with his usual energy, acquired much celebrity for activity, skill, and utility as a caterer for amusement to his master and friends. But numerous smugglers frequented that portion of the coast; and, ere long, our hero involved himself deeply with these people, among whom his dexterity and experience speedily raised him to be a leader. His generosity in distributing teas, brandies, and stuffs of value, among his friends and favourites, at length betrayed him, and his smuggling associates were watched by the revenue officers. Several laden boats were taken; but Thurot, who had gone on board of one, contrived to escape with it, and made his way to Scotland. His share of the saved cargo amounted to one hundred and fifty pounds; and with this sum he made a figure for a short time in Edinburgh. Ultimately, a gentleman of French extraction met with him, and was induced to give or get for him the mastership of the sloop Annie, with which Thurot went to London on an honest commercial trip. But the sloop was accidentally burned on the Thames, and its late master was again left without regular employment.

For the next four years (betwixt 1748 and 1752), Thurot passed frequently betwixt London and France, having devoted himself to his old employment of smuggling. In 1752, he went to reside at Boulogne, and continued in the same line. By his daring, skill, and success, as well as by the extraordinary generosity and humaneness of character which he displayed, he had now made himself the king of the smugglers. His boats ran an immense quantity of goods between the French and English coasts, usually succeeding in carrying out and in nearly L.20,000 worth annually. English and French revenue-coasters might sometimes seize a cargo; but in vain did they attempt to capture or check Thurot in his expeditions. The French writers also say that he was a bold and most successful privateer. At length the French government ordered the president of the province to take up all persons suspected of smuggling at Boulogne, and Thurot had the ill luck to be one of the first seized. He was carried to Dunkirk, and evidence was gathered against him sufficient to convict him capitally; but now the sponsorship of Madame Tallard proved his safeguard. The president just mentioned was the son of that lady, and he was induced so to exert himself that the life of her godson Thurot was spared.

distinction. His death secured the glory he always sought."

LIEBIG'S ANIMAL CHEMISTRY.*

SECOND NOTICE.

OUR author having discussed the source of animal heat, which consists in the mutual action between the elements of the food and the oxygen conveyed by the circulation of the blood to every part of the body, proceeds to show how the heat of the body is sustained in correspondence with the surrounding atmosphere. It is remarkable that the heat of the blood is the same in the arctic regions as at the equator; and to account for this fact, he states that whatever heat is lost by radiation in cold climates, is restored within the body with great rapidity. There is a compensating process, and the compensation takes place more rapidly in winter than in summer, more at the pole than the equator.

and it was so unusual for French captains to meet
them on anything like terms of equality, much less of
superiority, that Thurot, at this time (1758) but a Our readers will see a striking resemblance be-
man of thirty years of age, was received almost with twixt the career of Thurot and that of Paul Jones, as
triumphal honours at the French court, and became well as between the characters of the two men. They
the lion of the hour. Seeing every other seaman exhibited skill, courage, and humanity, in no ordi-
baffled by the enemy, the government turned to Thu-nary degree; and both evidently possessed those cha-
rot as to an anchor of hope, and sought his advice on racteristics which go to the composition of the Nelsons
the conduct of their naval affairs. Like Paul Jones and the Napiers. Large
opportunities for proving
in later days, he was impressed by a knowledge of the their endowments were not granted to either for our
unfortified state of the coasts and towns of Britain; country we may perhaps say happily so, since they
and, like him also, he boldly counselled a descent on were her enemies.
the island. The advice was taken. Intending to act
on several points at once, the government gave Thurot
five frigates, of 168 guns in all, with a complement of
700 sailors and 1270 soldiers, to attack the Irish
coasts. The British ships, with the aid of winds and
weather, ultimately defeated the other parts of the
scheme, but the indefatigable Thurot vindicated his
repute to a certain extent in the fulfilment of his own
task. No longer a contraband trader or unauthorised
privateer, but an honoured servant of his country, he
sailed from Dunkirk in October 1759, and got safe to
Ostend. But in attempting to pass around the north
of Britain, the channel being avoided as filled with
British ships, the French frigates were met by a ter-
rible storm, and one of them was so much injured as
to require being sent home. At length the squadron
reached the Derry coast, but ere they could land,
were again driven to sea, and another ship was per-
manently separated from the number. Thurot's men
had now begun to suffer greatly from fatigue and
want of provisions, and the other captains intreated
him to return to France; but he was unsubdued in
spirit, and firmly refused. In order to procure re-
freshments, he anchored, on the 16th of February,
off Islay, and, being able to enforce his will, obtained
supplies, for which, however, to his honour, he paid
punctually, and even most liberally. The state of
his men, after only four months of the sea, may be
guessed from the fact, that, on getting ashore, they
ate grass with avidity. Here, too, Thurot heard of
the failure of the rest of the invading squadron; but
still he persisted in his course, and, with his scanty
stores, moved for Carrickfergus, determined at least to
wipe so far away, by one retaliative descent, the me-
mory of some of the many similar insults inflicted by
Britain on France. On the 21st, he anchored in Car-
rickfergus Bay, and, about three in the afternoon,
landed his soldiery, now reduced to about 600 men,
along with 200 or 300 sailors. Carrickfergus was then
surrounded by an old and ruinous wall, and its castle
by one equally old and ruinous. The place was garri-
soned with four companies of men, but they were
poorly furnished with ammunition. Therefore, though
the commandant, Captain Jennings, made a defence,
Thurot soon forced the gates and entered the town.
He then marched along the streets, keeping up a fire
with the garrison, which was retreating to the castle.
Here an incident took place which shows the humane
character of the assailing party. A little child, in
thoughtless play, ran between the combatants, when
a French officer started forward, and, taking up the
child tenderly, carried it to the next door, which
chanced to be the paternal one. Unfortunately, the
gallant man exposed himself too much, and was shot.
Thurot continued to press on the castle after the
garrison had entered, and quickly compelled them to
capitulate.

Master of the town, he now demanded supplies of stores, which the magistrates most imprudently hesitated to comply with. In consequence, the town was plundered, Thurot telling them that the fault was their own. After taking what he could, the French commander, satisfied with what he had done to sustain his character, resolved immediately to quit the coast. But the career of the brave adventurer was drawing near its close. The news of has descent had spread; and ere he could leave Carrickfergus Bay, three British frigates, under Captain Elliott, had arrived to encounter him. Nothing daunted, however, Thurot prepared for action; nor could the issue of the contest have been, with any certainty, pronounced beforehand. The vessels were equal in numbers on both sides; and though the French crews were more numerous, they and their ships were in a very wornout condition, while the British seamen were unspent by toil, and their vessels a little heavier in metal than the others. The engagement commenced with great spirit on both sides. Thurot maintained his character for seamanship and courage, and fought without flinching or retrograding one inch. The well-manned guns of the British covered his decks with dead bodies; a shot struck his own ship under water, and the sea rose high in the hold; yet still Thurot struggled for a chance of victory. Its sun smiled not then upon him. He was not destined, however, to become the captive of a mortal enemy: he fell dead amid his companions on the deck; and, after a contest of an hour and a half in all, the French ships became the prize of the British.

This seeming check in the roving career of Thurot was, in reality, the means of advancing him to honours and rank far above his wildest hopes; and he had ever shown a spirit of ambition that soared above his ordinary employments. The president Tallard had represented, it is probable, the possibility of his being made a highly useful man to his country. He was sent for to Paris; and being examined respecting the smuggling trade, he gave such proofs of his skill, experience, and daring in naval matters, that the government resolved to employ him in the event of a renewal of the war with England. The war did break out in 1755, immediately afterwards, and Thurot received the command of a sloop of war. But this was an instrument too petty for his views, and he asked and obtained leave to join the privateers of Dunkirk. It was at this time that, by his brilliant exploits, the subject of our memoir made his name truly terrible to the merchants of Britain. He took many ships, and deeply injured their commerce in the channel. Attracted by his increasing celebrity as a naval partisan, the French court again sent for him in 1757, and he was nominated to the command of the frigate Friponne. In this he continued so to distinguish himself that Marshal Belleisle got him appointed to the command of a little squadron of two frigates and two corvettes, and he was sent to the northern seas to intercept a large convoy of British merchantmen from Archangel. Thurot had now means somewhat commensurate with his abilities and comprehensive views. After taking nearly ten merchantmen, and cruising a long time, he fell in with four English vessels of war, two of them larger than his own, and an obstinate engagement ensued, in Thus perished, in the prime of manhood, a man of which Thurot was the victor. Ile subsequently took whom his national enemies had learned to think with to Christiansand, in Norway, not fewer than four-esteem and respect. "The public (says the “Annual teen captured ships. He issued thence again, approached the Scottish coasts, and took one brig of eighteen guns, with a number of large merchantmen, and returned to the port of Dunkirk, after a restless and brilliant course of two years. The British were deemed so completely masters of the seas,

Register" for 1760, the year following the event above
related) lamented the death of the brave Thurot, who,
even while he commanded a privateer, fought less for
plunder than honour; whose behaviour was on all
occasions full of humanity and generosity; and whose
undaunted courage raised him to rank and merited

Liebig here describes the nice adjustment between the temperature of the atmosphere, the appetite for food, and the support of an equable heat in the body. Every body knows from experience that nothing so effectually keeps out cold as good eating; but few are acquainted with the precise philosophic reason for this. "In order to keep up in the furnace [of the body] a constant temperature, we must vary the supply of fuel according to the external temperature, that is, according to the supply of oxygen. In the animal body the food is the fuel; with a proper supply of oxygen we obtain the heat given out during its oxidation or combustion. In winter, when we take exercise in a cold atmosphere, and when, consequently, the amount of inspired oxygen increases, the necessity for food containing carbon and hydrogen increases in the same ratio; and by gratifying the appetite thus excited, we obtain the most efficient protection against the most piercing cold. A starving man is soon frozen to death; and every one knows that the animals of prey in the arctic regions far exceed in voracity those of the torrid zone.

In cold and temperate climates, the air, which incessantly strives to consume the body, urges man to laborious efforts in order to furnish the means of resistance to its action, while, in hot climates, the necessity of labour to provide food is far less urgent. Our clothing is merely an equivalent for a certain amount of food. The more warmly we are clothed, the less urgent becomes the appetite for food, because the loss of heat by cooling, and consequently the amount of heat to be supplied by the food, is diminished.

If we were to go naked, like certain savage tribes, or if in hunting or fishing we were exposed to the same degree of cold as the Samoiedes, we should be able with ease to consume 10 lbs. of flesh, and perhaps a dozen of tallow candles into the bargain, daily, as warmly-clad travellers have related with astonishment of these people. We should then also be able to take the same quantity of brandy or train oil without bad effects, because the carbon and hydrogen of these substances would only suffice to keep up the equilibrium between the external temperature and that of our bodies."

It now, therefore, appears to be a natural law that the quantity of food must be strictly regulated by the degree of cold in which we are placed, just as if we should require to regulate the brilliancy of a lamp by the degree of darkness to be overcome.

"No isolated fact," proceeds our author, "can affect the truth of this natural law. Without temporary or permanent injury to health, the Neapolitan cannot take more carbon and hydrogen in the shape of food than he expires as carbonic acid and water; and the Esquimaux cannot expire more carbon and hydrogen than he takes into the system as food, unless in a state of disease or of starvation. Let us examine these states a little more closely. The Englishman in Jamaica sees with regret the disappearance of his appetite, previously a source of frequently recurring enjoyment; and he succeeds, by the use of Cayenne pepper and the most powerful stimulants, in enabling himself to take as much food as he was accustomed to eat at home. But the whole of the carbon thus introduced into the system is not consumed; the temperature of the air is too high, and the oppressive heat does not allow him to increase the number of respirations by active exercise, and thus to proportion the waste to the amount of food taken; disease of some kind, therefore, ensues.

On the other hand, England sends her sick, whose diseased digestive organs have, in a greater or less degree, lost the power of bringing the food into that state in which it is best adapted for oxidation, and

* Animal Chemistry, or Organic Chemistry in its Applications to Physiology, by Justus Liebig. Edited by W. Gregory, Professor of Medicine, Aberdeen. London: Taylor and Walton, Upper Gower Street. 1842.

therefore furnish less resistance to the oxidising agency of the atmosphere than is required in their native climate, to southern regions, where the amount of inspired oxygen is diminished in so great a proportion; and the result, an improvement in the health, is obvious. The diseased organs of digestion have sufficient power to place the diminished amount of food in equilibrium with the inspired oxygen; in the colder climate, the organs of respiration themselves would have been consumed in furnishing the necessary resistance to the action of the atmospheric oxygen. In our climate, hepatic diseases, or those arising from excess of carbon, prevail in summer; in winter, pulmonic diseases, or those arising from excess of oxygen, are more frequent. The cooling of the body, by whatever cause it may be produced, increases the amount of food necessary. The mere exposure to the open air, in a carriage or on the deck of a ship, by increasing radiation and vaporisation, increases the loss of heat, and compels us to eat more than usual."

Suppose that a person expires less carbonic acid, and otherwise loses less material, than the oxygen he absorbs, then disease commences; he becomes loaded with fat. Now, begin to starve this person, and he will lose the fat he has accumulated. Go on starving him, and he will lose the muscular fibre. He is gradually consumed by the action of the atmosphere. Towards the end, the particles of the brain begin to undergo the process of oxidation, and delirium, mania, and death, close the scene; that is to say, all resistance to the oxidising power of the atmospheric oxygen ceases, and the chemical process of eremacausis, or decay, commences, in which every part of the body, the bones excepted, enters into combination with oxygen. The time which is required to cause death by starvation depends on the amount of fat in the body, on the degree of exercise, as in labour or exertion of any kind, on the temperature of the air, and, finally, on the presence or absence of water. Through the skin and lungs there escapes a certain quantity of water; and as the presence of water is essential to the continuance of the vital motions, its dissipation hastens death. Cases have occurred in which a full supply of water being accessible to the sufferer, death has not occurred till after the lapse of twenty days. In one case, life was sustained in this way for the period of sixty days.

In all chronic diseases death is produced by the same cause, namely, the chemical action of the atmosphere. When those substances are wanting whose function in the organism is to support the process of respiration; when the diseased organs are incapable of performing their proper function of producing these substances; when they have lost the power of transforming the food into that shape in which it may, by entering into combination with the oxygen of the air, protect the system from its influence-then the substance of the organs themselves, the fat of the body, the substance of the muscles, the nerves, and the brain, are unavoidably consumed. The true cause of death in these cases is the respiratory process, that is, the action of the atmosphere. A deficiency of food, and a want of power to convert the food into a part of the organism, are both, equally, a want of resistance; and this is the negative cause of the cessation of the vital process. The flame is extinguished, because the oil is consumed; and it is the Oxygen of the air which has consumed it.

Respiration is the falling weight, the bent spring, which keeps the clock in motion; the inspirations and expirations are the strokes of the pendulum which regulate it. In our ordinary time-pieces, we know with mathematical accuracy the effect produced on their rate of going by changes in the length of the pendulum or in the external temperature. Few, however, have a clear conception of the influence of air and temperature on the health of the human body; and yet the research into the conditions necessary to keep it in the normal state is not more difficult than in the case of a clock."

Our author next adverts to the metamorphosis of food into animal tissues, particularly in the young, and to the peculiar modifications of the food in carnivorous and graminivorous creatures. Milk, he observes, is precisely the kind of food which affords a superabundance of oxygen to increase the bulk of the young mammalia, "The continued increase of mass, or growth, and the free and unimpeded development of the organs in the young animal, are dependent on the presence of foreign substances, which, in the nutritive process, have no other function than to protect the newly formed organs from the action of the oxygen. It is the elements of these substances which unite with the oxygen; the organs themselves could not do so without being consumed; that is, growth, or increase of mass in the body, the consumption of oxygen remaining the same, would be utterly impossible. The preceding considerations leave no doubt as to the purpose for which nature has added to the food of the young of carnivorous mammalia substances devoid of nitrogen, which their organism cannot employ for nutrition, strictly so called, that is, for the production of blood; substances which may be entirely dispensed with in their nourishment in the adult state. In the young of carnivorous birds, the want of all motion is an obvious cause of diminished waste in the organised parts; hence, milk is not provided for

them."

He now brings his views to bear on man's social

condition. We have space for only a few passages. | his numerous family papers, and there (said the youth) "A nation of hunters, on a limited space, is utterly had the deed been found. The gentleman had preincapable of increasing its numbers beyond a certain sented it to the fortunate discoverer, but, being a very point, which is soon attained. The carbon necessary retiring and diffident person, and knowing the stir for respiration must be obtained from the animals, of which would be made about the matter, he had bound which only a limited number can live on the space the other solemnly to the concealment of the giver's supposed. These animals collect from plants the con- name. This statement of young Ireland, in place of stituents of their organs and of their blood, and yield meeting with discredit, was most readily swallowed, them, in turn, to the savages who live by the chase and even threw a deeper interest over the affair; and alone. They, again, receive this food unaccompanied the cry of all enthusiastic antiquaries was for more by those compounds, destitute of nitrogen, which, more signatures-more deeds! The Honourable Mr during the life of the animals, served to support the Byng, Sir Frederick Eden, and a great number of respiratory process. In such men, confined to an ani- other literary amateurs, unanimously declared, that, mal diet, it is the carbon of the flesh and of the blood where this one deed had been found, the identical which must take the place of starch and sugar. But mass of papers beyond doubt existed which had been 15 lbs. of flesh contain not more carbon than 4 lbs. of long sought for in vain by the commentators on starch; and while the savage with one animal and an Shakspeare. equal weight of starch could maintain life and health for a certain number of days, he would be compelled, if confined to flesh, in order to procure the carbon necessary for respiration, during the same time, to consume five such animals.

It is easy to see, from these considerations, how close the connexion is between agriculture and the multiplication of the human species. The cultivation of our crops has ultimately no other object than the production of a maximum of those substances which are adapted for assimilation and respiration, in the smallest possible space. Grain and other nutritious vegetables yield us, not only in starch, sugar, and gum, the carbon which protects our organs from the action of oxygen, and produces in the organism the heat which is essential to life, but also, in the form of vegetable fibrine, albumen, and caseine, our blood, from which the other parts of our body are developed. Man, when confined to animal food, respires, like the carnivora, at the expense of the matters produced by the metamorphosis of organised tissues; and just as the lion, tiger, and hyena, in the cages of a menagerie, are compelled to accelerate the waste of the organised tissues by incessant motion, in order to furnish the matter necessary for respiration, so the savage, for the very same object, is forced to make the most laborious exertions, and go through a vast amount of muscular exercise. He is compelled to consume force merely in order to supply matter for respiration. Cultivation is the economy of force. Science teaches us the simplest means of obtaining the greatest effect with the smallest expenditure of power, and with given means to produce a maximum of force. The unprofitable exertion of power, the waste of force in agriculture, in other branches of industry, in science, or in social economy, is characteristic of the savage state or of the want of cultivation."

We have now, we think, presented a sufficiently ample review of the able work before us, leaving, however, much to be examined by the reader on the subjects of animal motion, theory of disease, and other departments of this extensive subject. We may afterwards advert to Liebig's views on the theory of disease, but meanwhile recommend the work to the patient study of all who take delight in philosophic investigation.

THE SHAKSPEARE HOAX. ALLUSIONS being often made to the Shakspeare or rather Ireland forgeries, while the generation familiar with them is nearly passed away, it becomes in some measure necessary, for the sake of the general reader of the present day, that an account of that extraordinary imposture should be presented.

Mr Samuel Ireland, who became deeply mixed up with the "Shakspeare Forgeries," was a person of excellent private character, and of some eminence in the world of letters, being the author of various antiquarian and topographical works, published about the end of last century. He was particularly distinguished among his friends for his devotion to the memory of Shakspeare. The slightest scrap of ancient writing, referring even indirectly to that great name, was to Samuel Ireland a treasure of priceless worth, and an autograph of the bard himself was a thing meriting almost the reverence of idolatry. Unfortunately, however, only two or three scraps of Shakspeare's writing had descended to posterity, the signature of his will being the most certainly authentic of these. In such circumstances, the delight and triumph of Mr Ireland may be imagined, when, in 1795, his own son, Samuel William Henry Ireland, a lad of eighteen years of age, not only announced his discovery of a deed bearing the sign-manual of William Shakspeare, but at the same time placed that very deed in his father's hands. The father was almost beside himself, in fact, with joy, and called around him, on the instant, all the antiquaries and Shakspearian enthusiasts of London, in order to astonish them with his prize. The relic, which purported to be a mortgagedeed betwixt Shakspeare and one Michael Fraser and his wife, was viewed with such rapturous and soul-engrossing veneration, that only after the lapse of several days did some individual grow calm enough to inquire where the document had been found. Young Ireland, the discoverer, was at that time in the office of a conveyancer, but deeds of such antiquity were not likely, it was apparent, to have existed there. Accordingly, when referred to, the young man assigned a different source to the precious relic. He had become acquainted, he said, with a gentleman of ancient family, who had permitted a search to be made among

Young Ireland, urged on all hands to continue his researches, ere long gratified the expectations of the curious by producing, one after another, "Shakspeare's Profession of Faith," a "Letter to Lord Southampton," a "Letter to Anne Hatherwaye" (the poet's wife), "Five Poetical Stanzas" to the same lady, a "Letter to Queen Elizabeth," and several notes of hand and other minor documents, all of them apparently either in Shakspeare's own hand-writing or signed by him. These documents were laid before the first antiquaries and men of letters of the day, and were received by all, with the exception of a very few persons, without suspicion. Not even the production of a "Deed of gift to William Henry Ireland," described as the friend of the poet, and as having saved his life on the river Thames, brought any discredit on these wonderful discoveries, though certainly the production of such a deed, with such names, was a pretty sharp trial of the swallow of the antiquarian world. Among the noted men who saw and implicitly believed in the authenticity of the Shakspeare papers, Dr Samuel Parr may be mentioned in the first place. The doctor drew up and signed a certificate, stating that "the undersigned had inspected the Shakspeare papers, and were convinced of their authenticity." The name of Parr was followed by those of Herbert Croft, the Earl of Lauderdale, Valpy, and many others. James Boswell was among the subscribers; and "previous to signing his name, he fell upon his knees, and in a tone of enthusiasm, thanked Heaven that he had lived to witness this discovery, and exclaimed, that he could now die in peace !" Sir Isaac Heard, Garter King at Arms, Jonathan Hewlett, translator of the Old Temple Records, and several of the principal English heralds-men accustomed to minute examinations of ancient documentswere also among the vouchers for the antiquity of the Shakspeare papers. But perhaps the most remarkable name in the list was that of Jolin Pinkerton, the historian and antiquary, whose experience in antique writings may be held to have exceeded that of any other man of his day. It is needless to go farther into the list, after mentioning such names as these. The strange truth respecting these papers must now be told. Can the reader hear without wonder and amaze, that the papers under notice, asserted to be two hundred years old, had been fabricated, in most instances, not many hours previous to their production before the eyes of these experienced and admiring antiquaries! And they had been fabricated, moreover, by a lad of eighteen, totally unskilled beforehand in the art of copying ancient writing!

According to the confessions of young Ireland, which were published in 1805, his original motive for the execution of these forgeries was simply to give pleasure to his father. He had long sought for an autograph of Shakspeare to present to the latter, and being unable to find one, at length bethought him, in an evil hour, of producing a spurious copy. Ile did so, and his father was rendered happy. In departing thus far from the straight path, the young man foresaw none of the consequences which really followed. He conceived, he says, that his father would be pleased, and "there an end." But the inquiries made compelled him to fabricate a story regarding their source; and the demand for farther Shakspearian relics led him on, according to the common law in morals, from lie to lie, and from the production of paper after paper, until he had coiled around himself a mesh of deceit which he might well tremble at the thought of unweaving. How could he venture to confess his forgeries, after having led such men as Joseph Warton and Samuel Parr to commit themselves by the most extravagant eulogies of the pseudo-Shakspearian compositions? "We have many fine things," said one of these individuals, "in our church service, and our litany abounds in beauties; but here, sir, here is a man who has distanced us all." This said of the hurried composition of a smart lad of eighteen! Parr afterwards tried to back out of the scrape into which he had fallen; but he was undeniably, and grossly, and egregiously deceived at the outset of the affair. Our faith in taste and criticism receives a sad shock from such circumstances as these.

Pushed and pushing onwards in his course, young Ireland at length announced the discovery not only of the manuscript originals of many of Shakspeare's Plays, but also of a new and hitherto unknown one, with the title of "Vortigern and Rowena." A new drama by Shakspeare! The literary world was wild with expectation. And all the while, according to his own account, the youth of eighteen, who had ventured upon this daring announcement, had not penned one line of the promised piece, and, indeed, had never

his arms and legs, got up, shook himself, rubbed his eyes,
and then cried out-conceiving what had happened to be
only part of the performance, and perfectly willing to go
through the whole-" Well, I wonder what the fellow
intends to do next."-Flowers of Anecdote.

written a verse in his life. The announcement of the
play brought out an attack from Malone, one of the
few who denounced the Ireland papers as forgeries,
although it is to be feared that he was actuated more
by a bitter jealousy of the invaders of his province
[The merit of Voltaire's views on this subject will
of collector of Shakspeariana than by any other mo-
scarcely bear investigation. More probably, the intre-
tive. He warned the public not to be imposed upon pidity of the English sailor is simply a result of physical
by the spurious play, as he was just about to prove organisation: he belongs to a race possessing great mental
the whole affair a tissue of forgeries. The elder Ire-activity and power, and favoured by local circumstances,
land defended the authenticity of the papers in a this has made him what he is. If Voltaire had taken a
pamphlet. The play was written, and shown to anti- trip to the Highlands, he would have seen a Celtic popu-
quaries, and, even then, criticism continued completely lation seated on the shores of stormy seas, yet possessing
at fault. The great theatres were both eager for the no taste for maritime pursuits. An enlightened philo-
play, and Drury Lane was the successful competitor, sophy teaches that situation and circumstances are of
Sheridan being then at its head. James Henry Pye, little use when the native qualifications of mind are de-
the Poet-Laureat, and Sir James Bland Burgess, con-
fective. Voltaire knew nothing of this philosophy.]
tended for the honour of writing a prologue to the
piece, and the baronet carried the day; while another
literary amateur wrote an epilogue. The 2d of April,
1796, was the day appointed for the representation,
and all London looked with eagerness to the event.
But there was one man who knew Shakspeare too
well to be gulled like others around him, and that
man was essential to the success of the pseudo-Shaks-
pearian play. John Kemble did take upon him the
part of Vortigern, but he took it at the command of
his superiors, and did not hesitate to call the whole a
downright forgery. The author, in a published edi-
tion of the play, ascribes to John Kemble's contempt
of his part the consequences that followed the repre-
sentation. A house, crowded to excess, met to listen
to the piece, and all, says the author, went on well,
until John Kemble came to the line,

"And when this solemn mockery is o'er," which he pronounced (says the author still) in so pointedly scornful a manner, that an irrepressible clamour commenced in the house, and settled for ever the fate of Vortigern.

GOOD FOR EVIL.

Juan de Esquivel, the first governor of Jamaica, was sent by Diego Columbus, son of the great Columbus, in 1509, with about seventy men, to enforce his claim to the government. He was one of the few Castilians who, amidst all the horrors of bloodshed and infectious rapine, were distinguished for generosity and humanity. One eminent instance of this is related by Herrera. About the time that he sailed from Hispaniola, to take possession of his new government of Jamaica, his competitor, Ojeda, was on the eve of his departure to the continent. Ojeda violently opposed the intended expedition find him at Jamaica, he would hang him up as a rebel. of Esquivel, and publicly threatened that if he should Ojeda in his voyage was shipwrecked on the coast of Cuba, and in danger of perishing for want of food. He implored succour from the very man whose destruction he had meditated. Esquivel, thus acquainted with the sufferings of his enemy, sent an officer to conduct him to Jamaica, received him with the tenderest sympathy, treated him with kindness, and provided him with the means of a speedy and safe conveyance to Hispaniola. How truly might it be said, that under him "the ravages of conquest were restrained within the limits of humanity!" It is pleasing to add, that Ojeda was not ungrateful to his benefactor.-From a Scrup-Book.

ENJOYMENTS.

a

When flowers are brought into sought in another fact. sitting-roo, they fade because of the dryness of the air. The air of a sitting-room is usually something drier than that of the garden, and always much more so than that of a good greenhouse or stove. Flowers when gathered, are cut off from the supply of moisture collected for them by their roots, and their mutilated stems are far from having so great a power of sucking up fluids as the roots have. If, then, with diminished powers of feeding, they are exposed to augmented perspiration, as is the case in a dry sitting-room, it is evident that the balance of gain on the one hand by the roots, and of loss on the other hand by their whole surface, cannot be maintained. The result can only be their destruction. Now, to place them in a damp atmosphere is to restore this balance; because, if their power of sucking by their wounded ends is diminished, so is their power of perspiring; for a damp atmosphere will rob them of no water-hence they maintain their freshness. The only difference between plants in a "Ward's case" and flowers in the little apparatus just described is this-that the former is intended for plants to grow in for a considerable space of time, while the latter is merely for their preservation for a few days; and that the air which surrounds the flowers is always charged with the same quantity of vapour, will vary with the circumstances, and at the will of him who has the management of it. We recommend those who love to see plenty of fresh flowers in their sitting-rooms in dry weather to procure it. The experiment can be tried by inserting a tumbler over a rose-bud in a saucer of water. - Gardeners' Chronicle.

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CRIME DURING THE FAIR WEEK IN GLASGOW. We are gratified to observe from a report in a newspaper, the Scotch Reformers' Gazette," that the number of offences--such as drunkenness, disorderly conduct, and assaults-committed in Glasgow during a certain week in July, called the "fair week," is on the decline. In the fair week of 1841, the number of persons charged with offences at the police court was 404, and in 1842 it was only 241. Our authority observes on this subject, "It thus appears that there is a great diminution in the extent of crime, and we are glad also to find that the most heinous offences have been much lessened-there being but few of those brutal and savage assaults now committed that were formerly so common. We must, in common justice, attribute much of this desirable change, both as to the number and character of offences, to the beneficial influence of the temperance movement, to dull trade, and to the more enlightened conduct of our lower native population towards their Irish brethren. But we would also

The truth seems to be, that, whatever might be the case with critics and antiquaries, the public were not in this case to be hoaxed. They knew the mettle of their illustrious and enduring favourite too well to be deceived, and their award decisively closed the Ireland humbug. The eyes of the learned few were opened by the plain common-sense of the illiterate many, and all men cried out against the impudent forgery. Poor Samuel Ireland suffered grievously in character; and it was to protect his father, the son says, that he came forward and made a full confession. The consequence of his misdeeds, he further says, was a life of voluntary yet painful exile, and the endurance of all manner of obloquy, for years in succession. The doom was certainly not altogether undeserved. We have now had enough of this sad affair, which certainly forms one of the most curious instances in literary history, of critical judgment thoroughly at fault. In this respect, it gives a lesson at once amusing and instructive. But it is unnecessary to dwell on the morale of the affair, which is so obvious that it may be safely left to the reader's own reflec- peculiarities, &c. The influence of age or period of life duty," which they put on in the most obsequious form

tions.

SCOTLAND: A SONG.

The hills of my country are mantled with snow,
Yet, oh! I but love them the more;
More noble they seem in the sun's setting glow,
Than all that the vales of the Southron can show,
When gay with the summer's whole store.
Though brighter the landscape, and blander the air,
In climes that look straight to the sun,
The dearest enjoyments of home are not there,
The chat and the laugh by the hearth's cheering glare,
When day and its labours are done.

And thus, like the snow-covered hills of their land,
Its sons may seem rugged and rude,
Yet gentler in heart is each man of the band,
More kindly in feeling, more open in hand,
Than all whom the tropics include.

ENGLISH SAILORS.

T. S.

Voltaire has the merit of having discovered the cause of the superiority of English sailors at sea. The natives of the south of Europe navigate smooth seas, those of the north are frozen up during winter, but the English seas are open all the year, and are navigated in long, dark, stormy nights, when nothing but great skill and incessant exertion can preserve the vessel. Hence arises a degree of confidence in their sailors, which is almost incredible: the greater the danger, the greater is their activity; instead of shrinking from toil, every man is at his post. Having no faith in miracles for their deliverance, they almost work miracles to deliver themselves; and instead of preparing for death, strain every sinew to avoid it. Added to this confidence, they have also in war that which arises from constant success. The English sailor feels that he is master of the sea. What ever he sees is to do him homage. He is always on the look-out, not with the fear of an enemy before his eyes, but, like a strong pirate, with the hope of gain: and when going into action with an equal or even superior force, he calculates his profits as certainly as if the enemy were already taken. There," said the master of a frigate, when the captain did not choose to engage a superior French force, because he had a convoy in charge, "there," said he, with a groan, "there's seven hundred pounds lost to me for ever!" As for fear, it is not in their nature. One of these men went to see a juggler exhibit his tricks: there happened to be a quantity of gunpowder in the apartment underneath, which took fire and blew up the house. The sailor was thrown into a garden behind, where he fell without being hurt. He stretched

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Under this head we have to consider what it is difficult to define in reference to people in general. Our physical as well as our mental tastes are almost as diffe"It is a matter of surprise to me that Mr A. can find so rent as our faces and figures. Each is ready to exclaim, much enjoyment in business-eternal business-night, noon, and morning." Again, Mr A. says, “Well, I wonder how Mr B. can continue to live in what he calls a round of pleasure and amusement." Each sees the mote in his brother's eye, but observes not the beam in his own; in other words, is tolerant of his own folly only. Change or variety appears to be desired by all, unless by those labouring under a species of monomania. The traveller by occupation sighs for rest; while he, doomed to drudge in the same locality, longs for the freedom of a loose leg and change of scene.

In truth, enjoyment is quite a relative idea, depending upon a host of contingencies, such as age, temperament, needs not a reference to the sacred Scriptures to prove

its well-known effects.

In childhood, manhood, and old age, we make a retro-
spect tête-à-tête with experience, not at all complimen-
tary to the preceding stage; and although we may cast
a longing lingering look" on boyhood's days, owing to
the pleasures they then afforded, yet still we do often
regret that so much time was idly spent. The objects

of ambition or avarice-unlike the straws and rattles of
childhood, or the finely gilded toys of the emulation of
riper years-are persistent besetting delusions to the
very last-even on a death-bed.

The conqueror still sighs after fame-darling fame-
that "nerved his arm and steeled his sword." The
miser hugs his money-bags, and petitions Death to spare
him yet a little until he receive some valuable post-obits.
We have heard a great deal of how valueless the things
of this world appear to the dying man; but we have too
often seen the reverse, to give assent to this assertion as
the rule, which forms but the mere exception; men
generally die as they have lived-" the ruling passion
strong in death."

On the subject of enjoyments, we can only say that each individual must determine upon what he likes best in this respect, and act accordingly. The man who pays most attention to the culture and discipline of his mind is laying the true and firm foundation for such a taste as will lead him to seek for enjoyment in moral and intellectual pursuits-those that leave no sting behind. Remember that the pleasures of the sensualist and of the voluptuary perish in the very enjoyment.-Hayden's Physiology for the Public.

TO PRESERVE FLOWERS FRESH.

It is now eighteen years ago since we first saw, in the drawing-room of a gentleman now no more, in the hot dry weather of the dog-days, flowers preserved day after day in all their freshness by the following simple contrivance: A flat dish of porcelain had water poured into it. In the water a vase of flowers was set; over the whole a bell-glass was placed with its rim in the water. This was a Ward s case" in principle, although different in its construction. The air that surrounded the flowers being confined beneath the bell-glass, was constantly moist with the water that rose into it in the form of vapour. As fast as the water was condensed, it ran down the sides of the bell-glass back into the dish; and if means had been taken to enclose the water on the outside of the bell-glass, so as to prevent its evaporating into the air of the sitting-room, the atmosphere around the flowers would have remained continually damp. What is the explanation of this? Do the flowers feed on the viewless vapour that surrounds them? Perhaps they do; but the great cause of their preserving their freshness is to be

give the credit that is due to the judicious police regulations now in force. We believe that, in addition to the moral influence just spoken of, the improvement is attributable to the preventive nature of our present system of police, by which the peace and good order of our community, even at such striking times as the fair,' have been effectually preserved."

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VARIOUS ASPECTS OF CAPTAINS OF THE NAVY.

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It is well known to the world at large that some captains of the Royal Navy possess three distinct natures. The first is called their "manner afloat," which signifies a certain harshness of address when speaking to those under their command. The second is styled "their when receiving orders or notice from superiors. The third is their shore-going habit," in which they array themselves with a certain carelessness, meant to represent an honest, open-hearted, frank, though blunt good nature, a ready smile and an apparent cordial friendship for all; that is, for all who are beyond their power, and and who fancy (poor deluded creatures!) that a captain do not care one sixpence for their rank and epaulettes, on shore and a captain on his own quarter-deck are one and the same person. They who think thus know little about the matter. Not that I mean that this is a universal character. There are many perfect gentlemen, many of the kindest hearts that ever beat, high in rank

in our service. But even these are forced to alter their manners when in command. While there are some, as and whose urbanity on shore is a mere matter of masque1 have above described, whose real nature is tyranny, rade. Continental Literary Journal.

IMPROVED BOARDING-SCHOOLS.

Fathers of families in England occasionally apply to us for information respecting boarding-schools for boys in Scotland," which we can recommend as being conducted on an improved routine of instruction, and at a moderate charge." We regret that we are seldom able to answer such inquiries satisfactorily. We could point out one or two good boarding-schools, but only for boys of a high class, and also two or three good public schools, but these are in large towns, and therefore not the thing required. What is wanted, as far as we can understand, is a boarding-school in some healthy country place, at which boys would be taught not only the elementary but those advanced branches of instruction which improved views of education suggest; such, for example, as the laws of matter and motion, mechanics, hydrostatics, optics, electricity, astronomy, geography, geology, chemistry, zoology, botany, physiology, political economy, history, and so on; also instruction in classical and modern languages for those who wished to go that length. The whole routine, with board, and proper moral and religious instruction, to be given at from L.30 to L.40 per annum. If there has already been established shall be glad to hear of it, and, if satisfied, to recomany such boarding-school on a respectable footing, we mend it to public support.

LONDON: Published, with permission of the proprietors, by W. S. ORR, Paternoster Row.

Printed by Bradbury and Evans, Whitefriars.

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CONDUCTED BY WILLIAM AND ROBERT CHAMBERS, EDITORS OF "CHAMBERS'S INFORMATION FOR THE PEOPLE,"

"CHAMBERS'S EDUCATIONAL COURSE," &c.

NUMBER 554.

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 10, 1842.

EXTRAVAGANCIES OF THE DRAMA. OUR social institutions, customs, manners, and amusements, are characterised, beyond question, by a great many features and peculiarities, which the force of habit alone prevents us from viewing with ridicule, if not from repressing as gross outrages upon common sense. This is a trite enough observation, it must be confessed; yet the marvel is, that often as it is made in reference to a variety of subjects of greater or lesser consequence, our eyes are never the nearer being opened, and we are still contented to exercise our vision through the dulling and deceiving film of habit and conventionalism. Perhaps the operation of these influences is nowhere more observable than in the case of our dramatic and scenic exhibitions. Things are said, done, and shown in our theatres, which, when one examines them without the spectacles of custom on one's nose, appear certainly very strange and ridiculous; and the more particularly do they appear in such lights when one remembers the pretensions of the stage to "hold the mirror up to nature," and show "the very age and body of the time, its form and pressure." Professed imitations are there habitually given of characters too absurd to have ever had prototypes in human nature, and language is put into their mouths such as man never spoke in real life; while people look on, and listen, and applaud, simply, to all seeming, because their grandsires did so before them. For proof of this, take note of the Irishmen and Scotsmen of the stage, or the creations of fancy on which, from time immemorial, it has been the good pleasure of dramatic writers to bestow these designations. As regards speech, dress, manners, and other characteristics, these creations no more resemble the Irishmen and Scotsmen of real life, past or present, than the latter are like to the natives of Dahomey or Ashantee in the colour of their skins. Shakspeare began this series of ridiculous misrepresentations in the Captain Macmorris and Captain Jamy of his "Henry V.;" but for him there is excuse in the comparative ignorance which prevailed in his time relative to Ireland and Scotland. Imitating his faults when they could not imitate his beauties, dramatic writers have never since produced play or farce (as Carleton remarks in reference to his own countrymen) "in which, when an Irishman is introduced, he is not drawn as a broad grotesque blunderer, every sentence he speaks involving a bull, and every act the result of headlong folly, or cool but unstudied effrontery. I do not remember an instance in which he acts upon the stage any other part than that of the buffoon of the piece, uttering language which, whereever it may have been found, was at all events never heard in Ireland, unless upon the boards of a theatre. The Captain O'Cutters, O'Blunders, and Dennis Bulgrudderies, of the English stage, never had existence except in the imagination of those who were as ignorant of the Irish people as they were of their language and feelings. Even Sheridan was forced to pander to this erroneous estimate and distorted conception of our character; for, after all, Sir Lucius O'Trigger was his Irishman, but not Ireland's Irishman." Mr Carleton forcibly exposes the long-lived absurdity of imputing to the Irish any special propensity to bulls or blunders, and shows that the foundation of that idea lay simply in the imperfect comprehension which the Irish long had, and have even yet, of the English language.

In reference to the Irishman of the drama, the truth seems to be, that, a buffoon being a necessary character for many of the purposes of the stage, our dramatists have deemed it proper to call such

creations of their fancy by the generic title of Irishman; and a name rejoicing in the prefix of O', with a plentiful scattering of ochs, souls, be-aisy's, and blunders in their talk, has had the effect of causing the strange personations of this class pervading our plays, to be received as genuine sons of Erin all the world over, by one generation after another. There might have been little else than folly merely in our so long tolerating the application of the Irishman's name in this way, had it been understood that the appellation was but a useful conventional one for a class of characters which the stage requires; but this has not been the case. The ridicule which was solely due to the creature of the dramatist's invention, was transferred to the real members of that community whose national name was so misused. Carleton) from the stage into the recesses of private "It passed (says Mr life, wrought itself into the feelings till it became a prejudice, and the Irishman was consequently looked upon and treated as a being made up of absurdity and cunning-a compound of knave and fool, fit only to be punished for his knavery or laughed at for his folly." This is certainly nothing more than the truth. The stage, hitherto at least, has been one of the chief instruments by which national character has been appreciated; and from the senseless reception of the stage-pictures of Irish character as genuine, a depreciatory feeling towards the actual Irish people has been long fostered in the sister country. Many a worthy man must have suffered, for instance, both in interests and feelings, from the stigma conveyed in the term "fortune-hunter," which the drama has been the chief means of fixing upon the children of the "emerald isle."

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The professed representations of Scottish character
and Scottish scenery and peculiarities on the stage,
afford matter for laughter chiefly. We have heard it
asserted, that very worthy people in London have the
firm belief that the citizens of Edinburgh wear the
kilt universally, and that, on visiting England, they
assume certain nameless articles of dress merely as a
mark of respect for the more civilised tastes of the
south. Whether this be the London belief or not,
certain it is that the stage, as far as Scottish matters
are concerned, is practically conducted on that prin-
ciple. To pourtray a Scottish scene there, a most
unsparing allowance of mountain, rock, wood, and
waterfall, must be made; and these natural features,
to distinguish them from the same kind of scenery.
elsewhere, require simply to be on a monstrous scale.
The painter, apparently, must keep in his mind's
eye the "steep-frowning glories of dark Loch-na-gar,"
the written model of a Scottish scene to an English
mind. Then, again, every living thing introduced
into such a scene-man, woman, and child-must be
clothed in tartans. The women must have plaids,
mantles, and snoods of that material; and the men,
be they kings, chiefs, caterans, or cow-herds, must
figure in tartan coats and kilts, and also display hose
and buckled shoes, with blue bonnets and swinge-
ing feathers therein. It is almost needless to say
further, that a dirk and purse are also essential to
the Scot of the stage; and moreover, and above all,
a claymore of fearful length and strength, with which
a "terrific combat," as the bills have it, is always ef-
fected amid the hills and cataracts aforesaid. The
"terrific combat" is an element of the Scoto-scenic
exhibition never to be omitted.

The good people who swallow these things as cha-
racteristic of Scotland proper, are much in need of
being set right in their ideas. On the streets of Lon-
don, tartans and kilts are as common a sight as in
Edinburgh. Tourists must know this, but apparently

PRICE 14d.

nobody else does. As for dirks and claymores, we can assure our southern friends that the terrific fighters of gully-knife, fit only to slice a skim-milk cheese, conthe stage have no prototypes among Scotsmen. A stitutes the most deadly weapon which we have ever seen in the hands of the ploughman or shepherd of the Scottish dales.

Then, what a language do the approved Scotsmen bear! Speaking through the nose seems to be deemed of the stage emit, and what forms and names do they essentially characteristic of Scotsmen. A lumbering animal with a shock head of red-hair, which he forth, in a great measure through the organ mentioned, scratches perpetually, enters on the stage, and pours a gibberish composed chiefly of oichs, hoichs, tou's, ta's, the veritable Scot. Twenty other personages may be and mon's, and is deemed by his admiring auditory with this single party, but they speak their best on the scene, equally Scottish in name and position English, and are not deemed the true specimens of Caledonia. Now, we humbly assure our southern readers that all Scotsmen are not red-haired, and that in our talk we have no peculiar fancy for snivelling. As little are we aware of the existence of any persons called Mac-Screws or Mac-Sawneys among us, as certhat, leaving what is more especially called Scotland tain dramas would imply. Nor do we even believe for the most remote nooks of the Highlands, we shall there find any such personages, figures, names, or modes of talk. We shall find Gaelic spoken in some places, and in others a form of Scotch or English; but that chaotic mixture of these tongues which prevails on the stage, is the proper dialect of no district or spot with which we are acquainted. It is a curious truth, indeed, that in those parts of the Highlands where the original Gaelic has been superseded, a dialect of the English tongue is spoken excelling in purity any to be found in most of the provinces, or perhaps even the metropolis of England. Such is the case at Inverary, for instance, and partly at and around Inverness.

Scottish readers may think it a work of supererogation for us thus seriously to deny that the shockheaded, scratching, grunting, fighting animal in tartan, is a fair specimen of the general population of Scotland; but in reality the belief that such is the case is widely spread among our southern neighbours, and even among the respectably educated of them. Artists, who should and do know better, have fostered the notion by sticking men in kilts into all their pictures of Scottish soenery, even where these have reference to the banks of the Tweed or the Clyde, or other spots which never were trodden by limbs adorned with such a species of dress. The stage, we repeat, aided by paintings, has been instrumental in giving Englishmen most ridiculous ideas of Scotland. Not conceiving it possible, we suppose, that men who wore kilts could possess any of the luxurious inventions of civilisation, a respectable London merchant lately asked a friend of ours if we had gas in Edinburgh; and he exhibited a most humiliating degree of surprise on learning that we had actually advanced so far in practical science as to manufacture and use that article.

As in the case of the conventional Irishman and Scotsman of the stage, so is it with its Frenchmen, its Italians, its Spaniards, its Germans, its negroes, and others. They are not human beings of varied character, such as Shakspeare introduced into his plays when he laid the scenes abroad. They are respectively but reiterations of one character, which it has pleased dramatists to constitute the stage-model of an entire national community. For example, the Frenchman introduced into the English drama is uni

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