p 
 
 li 
 
 WiiSiif 
 
 *®ww 
 
Subtle Brains 
 And Lissom Fingers 
 
 BEING SOME OF THE CHISEL-MAKKS OF OUR INDUSTRIAL 
 AND SCIENTIFIC PROGRESS, 
 
 AND OTHER PAPERS. 
 
 BY 
 
 ANDREW WYNTBR, M.D., M.R.C.P. Lond. 
 
 AUTHOR OP 
 
 ^^CURIOSITIES OP CIVILIZATION,” ‘^OUR SOCIAL BEES,” ETC. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 ROBERT HARDWICKE, 192, PICCADILLY, 
 1863. 
 

 tf) 
 
 t 
 
 rs 
 
 J 
 
 TO MY READEES. 
 
 . '. ^HB majority of the papers in this volume have 
 •>|o already appeared in the pages of Once a Week 
 V and the London Review. I am half afraid that the 
 public have had enough of them already^ and I 
 have only been tempted to republish them by the 
 representations of my Publisher. The fact that 
 “ OuE Social Bees ” — a work somewhat similar in 
 scope to the present volume — has abeady reached 
 a sixth edition, indicates, he tells me, that I have 
 not yet exhausted the public patience. Trusting 
 this may prove to be the case, I have ventured to 
 .^trespass once more upon the good-nature of my 
 H readers. Professional work will not permit me, how- 
 A ever, to do so again ; and the next time I take up my 
 ^ pen, it must be in furtherance of the main business 
 ^of my life— the study of Mental Disease. 
 
 ^ A. W. 
 
 A'’ 
 
 Park House, 
 
 Addison Eoad, Kensington, 
 August, 1863 . 
 

 fSl, 
 
 
 
 
 4 
 
 I 
 
 t#4:' 
 
 
 Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2017 with funding from 
 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign Alternates 
 
 https://archive.org/details/subtlebrainslissOOwynt 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 THE BUEIED EOMAN CITY IN BEITAIN . . page 1 
 
 DINING-EOOMS EOE THE WOEKING CLASSES . . 19 
 
 SILVEETOWN . . . .... . . . . 27 
 
 EAILWAYS AND CITY POPULATION . . . . . . 37 
 
 ADVEETISING . . . . . . . . . . 44 
 
 A DAY WITH THE COEONEE . . . . . . . . 52 
 
 VIVISECTION . . . . . . . . . . . . 65 
 
 THE ENGLISH IN PAEIS . . . . . . . . 71 
 
 THE NEW HOTEL SYSTEM . . . . . . . . 79 
 
 THE TIMES NEWSPAPEE OP 1798 .. .. 95 
 
 THE EESTOEATION OP OUE SOIL . . . . . . 105 
 
 THE UNDEE-SEA EAILEOAD . . . . . . . . 126 
 
 HALP-HOUES AT THE KENSINGTON MUSEUM. . . , 135 
 
 OH^ THE EOAST BEEP OP OLD ENGLAND ! . . ..159 
 
 MUDIE^S CIECULATING LIBEAEY . . . . . . 165 
 
 PHYSICAL EDUCATION .. .. .. ..173 
 
 PEAUDULENT TEADE MAEKS . . . . . . . . 179 
 
 ADVICE BY A EETIEED PHYSICIAN . . . . . . 188 
 
VI 
 
 CONTENTS, 
 
 SUPEESTITION : WHERE DOES IT END ? . . page 
 
 THE CLERK OF THE WEATHER 
 
 THE NEW COUNTERBLAST TO TOBACCO 
 
 PORTSMOUTH DOCKYARD 
 
 AIR TRACTION 
 
 VILLAGE HOSPITALS . . 
 
 \ 
 
 ILLUMINATIONS . . . . . . . . 
 
 RAILWAYS^ THE GREAT CIVILIZERS . . 
 
 BOAT-BUILDING BY MACHINERY 
 ON TAKING A HOUSE . . . . 
 
 THE EFFECTS OF RAILWAY TRAVELLING UPON HEALTH 
 
 PHOTOGRAPHIC PORTRAITURE 
 
 THE WORKING MEN^S FLOWER-SHOW 
 
 DOCTORS^ STUFF 
 
 MESSAGES UNDER THE SEA . . 
 
 SMALLPOX IN LONDON 
 TOWN TELEGRAPHS . . 
 
 HOSPITAL DISTRESS . . 
 
 THE BREAD WE EAT. . 
 
 EXCURSION TRAINS . . 
 
 EARLY WARNINGS 
 
 192 
 
 201 
 
 214 
 
 226 
 
 242 
 
 251 
 
 256 
 
 263 
 
 272 
 
 279 
 
 289 
 
 297 
 
 318 
 
 321 
 
 328 
 
 350 
 
 362 
 
 372 
 
 376 
 
 385 
 
 392 
 
CONTENTS. Vn 
 
 f ocnts. 
 
 A GAEDEN SCENE . . . . . . . . page 421 
 
 WESTMINSTEE CLOISTERS . . . . . . . . 423 
 
 BE TRUSTFUL . . . . . . . . . . 424 
 
 AUTUMN ON THE HILL SIDE. . . . . . . . 426 
 
 A WATER SKETCH . . . . . . . . . . 428 
 
 THE TWO PICTURES . . . . . . . . . . 430 
 
 MY ROOM IN THE COUNTRY. . . . . . . . 434 
 
 ASSOCIATIONS OF A SHELL . . . . . . . . 437 
 
 THE ANCIENT GARDEN . . . . . . . . 439 
 
 THE PASSING OF THE STORM . . . . . . 441 
 
 THE DESERTED COTTAGE . . . . . . . . 443 
 
 . . 444 
 
 LIFE AFTER DEATH 
 
ILLUSTEATIONS 
 
 THE EOMAN CITY IN BRITAIN . . . . page 3 
 
 ORNAMENT IN BRONZE . . . . . . . . 14 
 
 THE SHACKLE .. .. .. .. .. 15 
 
 THE LEADEN (tOY) COCK .. .. .. .. 16 
 
 THE PHYSICIAN^ S STAMP . . . . . . . . 16 
 
 UN ANGLAIS A MABILLE . . . . . . . . 72 
 
 AN ENGLISHMAN AND HIS BELONGINGS^ EROM THE 
 MERIDIAN OF PARIS . . . . . . . . 73 
 
 UNDER- SEA RAILWAY TUNNEL . . . . . , 129 
 
 WARNING SIGNALS . . . . . . . . 208^ 209 
 
 CRANLEY VILLAGE HOSPITAL. . . . . . . . 252 
 
 MAP TOWN TELEGRAPHS . . . . . . . . 367 
 
 THE COMMUNICATOR . . . . . . . . . . 368 
 
 THE INDICATOR . . . . . . . . . . 369 
 
THE BURIED ROMAN CITY IN BRITAIN. 
 
 We had been traversing the London Road^ which 
 leads out of Shrewsbury by its eastern suburb^ skirting 
 every now and then the silvery Severn^ meandering 
 through a park-like country^ when my companion 
 turned the horse^s head down a bye-road on the rights 
 which speedily led us amid some undulating pastures. 
 
 And now/^ said he, as the carriage jerked over a 
 ridge in the road ; now — we are in the Roman City.^^ 
 
 I looked around me. There were undulating fields 
 and crops of turnips, hedge-rows and trees — an 
 English landscape, pure and simple, such as we meet 
 with everywhere in the luxuriant western counties. 
 
 But where have the Romans left their marks I 
 asked, half incredulously. My companion pointed with 
 his whip to a dark object a little in advance — a weather- 
 beaten wall which rose, a massive and significant ruin, 
 in the midst of the pastoral scenery surrounding us. 
 As we drew near, the Cyclopean mass of grey stones, 
 streaked at intervals with bright red lines of tile-work, 
 left no doubt upon our minds. And if you will 
 observe narrowly,^^ said my companion, you will see 
 indications of the line of the walls. And truly an 
 
 B 
 
2 
 
 THE BUEIED EOMAN CITY IN BEITAIN. 
 
 irregular line^ inclosing a somewhat pear-shaped area^ 
 could be traced^ its long diameter running north and 
 south ; the stem of the pear^ if we may so term it^ 
 dipping down into the waters of the rapid Severn. 
 This ridge of buried town-wall^ my companion tells 
 me^ makes a circuit of three miles ; and as I traced it 
 round about_, I could see underneath the emerald sod 
 suggestive outlines^ now dipping under the hedge- 
 rows^ now crossing the brook^ and next upheaving 
 the middle of the field. It was clearly the dead and 
 ruined city^ dimly sketched beneath its winding-sheet 
 of common grass. In another minute we were close 
 to the old wall itself^ which cropped up suddenly from 
 the edge of a turnip field — a huge bone^ as it were^ of 
 the buried skeleton beneath. To the south of this wall 
 a square area^ about two acres in extent^ railed off 
 from the adjoining fields^ presented itself^ trenched in 
 every direction^ and heaped with mounds of rubbish. 
 A crowd of visitors were lounging about^ looking 
 down into the deep pits and trenches with a serious^ 
 puzzled look.* 
 
 And this ? said I 
 
 ‘^^Is where we are exhuming Roman Britain^^^ 
 interrupted my companion. 
 
 * Since the above was written the Excavation Committee have 
 very judiciously caused all the earth excavated from the trenches 
 to be collected into a steep mound, which is to be planted with 
 evergreens and surrounded by gravel walks. From this mound a 
 bird’s-eye view will be given to the spectator of the whole ruins laid 
 open. The hypocausts, passages, courts, and roads will be beneath 
 him, plainly depicted as in a map. By this means the interest of 
 these singular remains will be greatly enhanced to the visitor. 
 
THE BUEIED ROMAN CITY IN BRITAIN, 
 
 3 
 
 We alig’hted and passed into the enclosure. I could 
 just see the head of a labouring man^ who was delving 
 away in a long trench. Sitting on the side of the 
 trench was a figure dressed in black_, his gaitered legs 
 
 B 2 
 
4 
 
 THE BUEIED EOMAN CITY IN BEITAIN. 
 
 disappearing in the pit. Those who remember Land- 
 seer^ s picture of Suspense — a Scotch terrier 
 watching at a rat-hole — will be able to appreciate the 
 whole look and attitude of that figure as the pick 
 broke into every fresh lump of earth. Leaving my 
 human terrier for a moment^ still watching at his hole^ 
 I clambered over the mounds of earth_, and looked 
 down at the dead bones of Roman Britain. The old 
 wall above ground had been the starting point from 
 which the excavations were commenced^ and it was 
 soon discovered that it was the above-ground portion 
 of a large building in the form of a parallelogram^ 
 divided into three compartments ; the middle one 
 being 226 feet long and 30 feet wide^ the side aisles^ 
 if we may so term them^ being of exactly the same 
 lengthy but one only 14 feet wide^ and the other 
 13 feet 9 inches wide at one end and 16 feet at the 
 other. The middle compartment is paved with brick 
 in the herring-bone pattern^ but portions of tesselated 
 floors were found at the eastern extremity of the 
 northern lateral chamber. This place is nothing less 
 than a stone puzzle to the archeologists. Apparently^ 
 it was not roofed in, as few tiles were found in the area. 
 That it stood in the angle formed by the intersection of 
 two streets is clearly ascertained, and that it was entered 
 from both of them is equally clear. Along its western 
 facade ran the great Roman military highway which 
 connected London with Chester, still in use and known 
 under the Saxon name of Watling Street. That this 
 road expanded into a wide space opposite the main 
 western entrance there can be no doubt, for it has 
 
THE BURIED ROMAN CITY IN BRITAIN. 
 
 5 
 
 been traced for some distance^ until fresh buildings 
 impinge upon the way^ and considerably narrow it. 
 
 Along the northern side of this building ran another 
 street joining the Watling Street wall at right angles ; 
 wherever excavations have been made in its course 
 the pick has come down upon a surface pitched with 
 large pebbles. The Eoman streets^ it is clear^ were 
 formed like those of Shrewsbury^ and scores of others 
 in Britain to this day. What public purpose this 
 building could have served is^ however^ a matter of 
 the merest conjecture. It has been suggested that it 
 formed the forum_, for the reason that it is very similar 
 in form to the remains of the forum found at Pompeii. 
 A curious piece of ironwork^ somewhat in the form of 
 a trident^, which fitted into a staffs apparently some 
 emblem of office^ was found in its principal area. 
 
 At present^ however^ a veil has been drawn over the 
 subject in the shape of a flourishing field of turnips^ 
 the Committee of Excavation hitherto having to mani- 
 pulate their limited plot of ground somewhat as Paddy 
 did his insufficient blanket^ by filhng up one place in 
 order to expose another. Consequently, the only 
 portion of this debateable building at present open to 
 view is the portion of old wall originally above ground. 
 This weather-beaten fragment bears upon its southern 
 face evidence of having been connected with other 
 buildings, for the springings of three brick arches are 
 very plainly visible upon it, and the spade of the 
 excavator has traced out the underground walls that 
 supported them. Here evidently three ^^barrel roofed^^ 
 rooms, possibly granaries, existed, as in one of them a 
 
6 
 
 THE BURIED ROMAN CITY IN BRITAIN. 
 
 quantity of charred wheat was found. Trenching 
 southward soon proved that they had only opened but 
 a small portion of some great central building of the 
 city^ for the spade at some considerable depth struck 
 upon the semicircular end of a wall^ and speedily a fine 
 hypocaust^ 37 feet long and 25 feet wide^ was laid 
 open. The Eomans^ it may be stated^, in this country 
 at leasts did not warm their apartments by open fire- 
 places or stoves^ but by hot air chambers built under- 
 neath the ground-fioors^ which were supported at short 
 intervals by rows of pillars formed of square tiles 
 placed one upon another. Here, then, was the grand 
 heating apparatus of a very fine room delved out of 
 the earth in almost as perfect a state as when Roman 
 fires circulated through it. The pillars of tiles were in 
 perfect order,* and the soot still adhered to their sides 
 as though the smoke had only passed through them 
 yesterday. In the same line a number of other smaller 
 hypocausts were soon exhumed. Here and there the 
 floors of small apartments paved with the herring- 
 bone pavement are seen, and in one spot the walls of a 
 sweating-room are still lined with the flues used to 
 warm them, consisting of the common pottery tiles 
 with flanged edges, employed by the Romans for 
 roofing to this day. Passages floored with indestructible 
 
 •5C- regret to state, that during a temporary stoppage of the 
 works, several inroads of the barbarians in the shape of cheap 
 trippers ” took place, in which these pillars were wantonly thrown 
 down ; they have since been restored to their old position by the 
 careful hand of Dr. Johnson. We are sorry to say, however, that 
 the only bit of the wall-inscription yet found in these ruins, was by 
 these later barbarians entirely destroyed. 
 
THE BUEIED EOMAN CITY IN BEITAIN. 
 
 7 
 
 concrete lead between these rooms,, and in some places 
 the plaster still adheres to the walls,, painted either in 
 bands of red and yellow^ or arranged in patterns of 
 not inelegant design. In one place the wall is tesse- 
 lated^ an embellishment which is^ we believe^ quite 
 unique. There is evidence also that the outsides of 
 some of the buildings in Uriconium were plastered and 
 painted^ as the semicircular end of the large hypocaust 
 when discovered was so finished. Similar external 
 embellishments were discovered at Pompeii. What 
 we may term the stoke-hole of one of these hypocausts 
 remains still intact. Three steps^ formed out of single 
 slabs of stone,, sharp almost as the day they came from 
 the stone-dressePs hands^ lead to an arched opening 
 of splendid workmanship^ which directly communicates 
 with the hot-air chamber. I could almost fancy I saw 
 the Roman stoker shovelling in the wood and coal (for 
 coal has been discovered here) some biting December 
 mornings to keep life in the shivering centurion pacing 
 above. Near this stoke-hole there was found an 
 ash-heap — a Romano-British ash-heap ! 
 
 Imagine^ good reader^ Macaulay^s New Zealander,, 
 after taking his survey of the ruins of St. Paufis from 
 the broken arch of London Bridge^ kicking his foot 
 by accident against a London ash-heap^ and you will 
 perhaps be able to realize the eagerness of the Shrews- 
 bury archaeologists. Here were discovered,, as was 
 expected^ numberless unconsidered trifles^ but of 
 priceless worthy as illustrating the every-day life of 
 the inhabitants. Fragments of pottery,, broken by 
 the Roman cat/^ or come to pieces in the hand/^ 
 
8 
 
 THE BUEIED EOIvIAN CITY IN BRITAIN. 
 
 of the Eoman housemaid^ of course ; hair-pins of hone, 
 that had once fastened back the hair of some fair 
 Lucretia, with the pomade still adhering to them (an 
 analytic chemist could possibly tell us of what oils and 
 scents they were composed) ; pieces of window-glass, 
 through which, perhaps, the aforesaid beauty had 
 peered at the beaux of Uriconium ; the bones of birds 
 and animals, and even the shells of oysters, were found 
 mingled together with bone needles and ornamental 
 fibulse, coins, &c. These things, especially the small 
 articles of female gear, imply that this portion of the 
 large building at least was devoted in part to female 
 use. When the workmen were clearing out the hypo- 
 caust leading from the stoke-hole, crouched up in the 
 north-west corner they discovered the skeleton of an 
 old man, and close to him (the ruling passion strong 
 in death) was found a little heap of coins, and among 
 them fragments of wood and nails, evidently the remains 
 of a small box or coffer, decayed by time, which had 
 once held the old man^s treasure. These coins, 132 in 
 number, were all, with two exceptions, of copper, 
 leading to the inference that he was a domestic. 
 
 In excavating the ruins of Pompeii, the skeleton of 
 what was supposed to have been the master of the 
 house was discovered near a back wall, with a bag of 
 money near one hand, and a key near the other, 
 implying that he was attempting to escape from the 
 coming destruction by a back-door. A man had no 
 banking account in those days ; it was therefore quite 
 natural that, in the moment of escape, he should be 
 found clutching his treasure ; but it does seem strange 
 
THE BURIED ROMAN CITY IN BRITAIN. 
 
 9 
 
 that^ like a fly in amber^ bis very attitude should be 
 preserved to us. 
 
 For centuries the Saxon hind ploughed the fields 
 overhead^, and little dreamed of the ghastly dramatis 
 personce that lay grouped beneath his feet. 
 
 It is customary when a new building is about to be 
 erected_, to deposit on the foundation-stone coins for 
 the current year^ of the reigning sovereign^ in order 
 to mark the period of its erection. Fate would ap- 
 pear to have led this terrified old man with his little 
 box of the current Roman coins of the country into 
 this hiding-place^ to fix the time of the destruction of 
 the city and of the overthrow of the civilization that 
 Roman dominion in this country had left among the 
 half- emasculated Britons. The great majority of these 
 coins bear the effigy of the Constantines^ which points 
 to the end of the fourth century as the period of the 
 destruction of this city. Now^ if I remember rightly^ 
 the Roman Legions finally left the island in the year 
 426 ; thus it will be seen how speedily the barbarian 
 Piets followed on their footsteps^ and swept away the 
 cities they had founded and left to the charge of the 
 enfeebled Britons. 
 
 Close beside the west wall of the hypocausL where 
 the old man was founds lay the skeleton of a woman, 
 and huddled against the north wall was another. All 
 these skeletons were close together. In the yard 
 adjoining, was found the skeleton of a baby, so young 
 that its teeth were still uncut. A little eastward four 
 or five skeletons, chiefly of females, were found, lead- 
 ing to the inference that the men, through craven 
 
10 
 
 THE BURIED ROMAN CITY IN BRITAIN. 
 
 fear^ basely deserted the weaker sex in the terrible 
 moment of massacre. What overwhelming terror — 
 what sudden panic must have overcome these inmates^ 
 for the mother thus to desert her babe_, and for the 
 man to herd with women in such a dismal hiding- 
 place. These tell-tale bones leave to us a vivid picture 
 of that dreadful day — fourteen hundred years ago — 
 when the enemy poured into the city and ravaged it 
 wdth fire and sword. 
 
 Southward of this inhabited and apparently private 
 portion of the great block of buildings^ the basements 
 of another series of structures has been found. The 
 lower walls and the herring-bone pavement of a square 
 court opening immediately upon the open space^ or 
 place of the great military way or Watling Street^ 
 have been laid bare. The court is forty feet square^ 
 and on its north and south sides runs a row of 
 chambers from ten to twelve feet square. 
 
 Dr. Henry Johnson^ the Hon. Secretary of the 
 Excavation Committee^ with classic instinct^ imme- 
 diately fancied that it was the atrium of a private 
 Eoman dwellings especially as in the centre of the 
 court the pavement was wanting^ indicating the possi- 
 bility of the remains of an impluvium ; but^ on search 
 being made^ no signs of one having been there were 
 found; and further excavation proved that many of 
 the usual features of such a private mansion were 
 wanting. There was no tablinum or peristyle^ the 
 side of the atrium or court in that direction being 
 closed by a wall^ on the outside of which are a series 
 of recesses^ supposed to have been shops. Further on 
 
THE BURIED ROMAN CITY IN BRITAIN. 
 
 11 
 
 in the same line eastward is a large paved cistern^ 
 filled with tiles and broken pottery ; and beyond again 
 a paved space^ which had evidently been a bath. 
 This portion of the buildings however^ has been only 
 partially excavated^ but what is now visible has the 
 appearance of having belonged to a public swimming- 
 bath. But what could the open courts surrounded 
 with apartments^ and bordering upon the principal 
 street^ have been ? It is suggested that it might have 
 been a market-place. That it was a building of great 
 resort there can be no doubt ; for of its two street 
 entrances the step of the southernmost is worn away 
 to the shape of the human foot several inches deep. 
 By the direction of the footsteps^ it is clear that the 
 people flocking thither must have come up the street 
 from the southward. Strange^ that^ after fourteen 
 hundred years^ we should thus have visible evidence 
 of the direction in which the main currents of human 
 life used to flow in this ancient city. There is a much 
 wider entrance to this supposed market-place^ or 
 bazaar^ a little north of the foot entrance ; but this was 
 not approached by steps^ but by an inclined plane_, 
 formed of three slabs of stone placed side by side. 
 Mr. Thomas Wright, the chief director of the excava- 
 tions imagines that this was a carriage, or at least a 
 barrow entrance ; and the discovery of a horse- shoe 
 here, would seem to justify this hypothesis : but we 
 find no wheel-ruts as they did in frequented car- 
 riage entrances at Pompeii ; moreover, a herring-bone 
 pavement would scarcely have withstood the wear and 
 tear of carriage traffic. The rooms round the court 
 
12 
 
 THE BUEIED EOMAN CITY IN BEITAIN. 
 
 have proved the greatest puzzle of any to the archseo- 
 logists. The walls stand at least three feet high from 
 the pavement^ but there is no sign of any door- ways. 
 It has been suggested_, that wooden steps^ long since 
 perished^ may have given entrance to them ; but then 
 we should expect to find the marks in the walls where 
 they had been fixed^ as was the case at Pompeii^ 
 where staircases appear to have been very common. 
 
 In excavating the rubbish from these rooms^ in 
 some cases to ten feet in depth_, stores of different 
 substances were founds one apparently had been a 
 magazine of charcoal^ as a large quantity of that sub- 
 stance was found in it. Another contained the bones^ 
 horns^ &c.^ of animals_, chiefly those of the red deer 
 and the ox, and the tusks of boars. On the antlers of 
 the deer, saw-marks and signs of tools of other kinds 
 are very visible, and some of the bones have been 
 turned in a lathe. These signs seem to indicate that 
 the fabrication of various articles in bone, ivory, and 
 stags^ horn, found in every direction amongst the 
 ruins, was carried on here ; and that a veritable bazaar 
 for the sale of such trifles existed on this spot we have 
 good reason to believe from the fact that weights of 
 different sizes were dug up close at hand. 
 
 Not far from this court a portion of a pillar was 
 found, the bottom of which is engraven with the 
 phallus, so often discovered on Roman remains. Pos- 
 sibly the pillar may have formed a portion of a 
 Priapian pillar, or emblem of fruitfulness. If so, 
 its vicinity to the open court may indicate that it 
 served the purpose of a market-place for edibles, as 
 
THE BUEIED ROMAN CITY IN BRITAIN. 
 
 13 
 
 well as that of a bazaar. Be that as it maj^ it is 
 clear that this department of the great block of 
 buildings formed its southernmost limit_, for a paved 
 street has been discovered close to its walls^ along 
 which ran a side gutter^ or possibly a water-course, 
 such as we find at Salisbury ; for in one place large 
 stones were discovered, placed transversely in the 
 channel, as though they had been used as stepping- 
 stones. This great public building contained possibly 
 a forum, establishment of baths, a market-place, and 
 bazaar, was surrounded on three sides, at least, by 
 streets ; and, for aught we know, excavations to the 
 eastward will prove that it formed what the Romans 
 called an insula. 
 
 The discovery of numerous fragments of columns 
 and capitals within its ruins, proves that it must have 
 been ornamented with architectm^al features of a 
 striking character, which gave it a noble appearance, 
 situated as it was, in the middle and on the highest 
 spot of the city within the walls. Beyond this 
 building excavations have been made only to a small 
 extent southward, but sufficiently to prove that 
 buildings exist on the other side of the street last 
 discovered. The Committee of Excavations have 
 evidently hit upon the most central and important 
 spot in the city; and, dig where they will, — north, 
 south, east, or west, — in the four acres which the 
 Duke of Cleveland has leased to them, they cannot 
 avoid opening up remains which will probably help to 
 elucidate the stone puzzle they have already exposed. 
 
 As I moved away from my minute examination of 
 
14 
 
 THE BURIED ROMAN CITY IN BRITAIN. 
 
 the ruins^ I found the gentleman in black gathering 
 up the precious fragments rescued from the trench 
 with eager solicitude^ which he carried off to a kind 
 of box of Autolycus^ under charge of the foreman of 
 the excavators. The labourer was digging away like 
 a machine^ and taking as much interest in his work. 
 As he shovelled up some fragments of pottery I 
 remarked : 
 
 There seems to have been a grand smash of 
 crockery hereabouts."^^ 
 
 Yes^ sir/’ he replied; ^Hhere be a main sight of 
 them sort of cattle buried 
 here/^ and went on with 
 his work. Such are the 
 differences between man 
 and man induced by edu- 
 cation. 
 
 After tracing the dry 
 bones of the Roman city^ it 
 , was doubly interesting to 
 give it life by means of the 
 relics collected from its 
 depths. A considerable 
 number of articles illus- 
 trative of the every-day 
 occupations and amuse- 
 ments of the inhabitants 
 have already been secured 
 in the Museum at Shrews- 
 bury. Pottery^ of course^ 
 is in abundance^ including a piece of Samian ware 
 
 Ornament in bronze, probably- 
 belonging- to a Steelyard. 
 
 ^ \A dual size. ^ 
 
THE BURIED ROMAN CITY IN BRITAIN. 
 
 15 
 
 The Shackle. 
 
 [One-fourth of the full size.] 
 
 repaired with metal rivets, and some not inelegant 
 Eomano- Salopian pottery made from fine Broseley 
 clay^ innumerable roofing- 
 tiles of pottery and mica- 
 ceous slate with the nails 
 yet remaining in them. Of 
 iron- work there are abun- 
 dant remains; key s_, chains^ 
 shackles^ rings^ nails^ door- 
 hinges^ and an iron padlock 
 have been found so won- 
 derfully like uninteresting 
 modern work^ that one 
 cannot help thinking the 
 stilted Eoman of our school-books must^ after all^ have 
 been very like one of ourselves. Turning over the box 
 of relics my friend in the black gaiters has directed my 
 attention to — what do I find? — scores of cocVs legs 
 with natural spurs^ filed evidently to fit on bronze 
 ones. That they knew how to fight a main of cocks 
 at Uriconium is quite evident^ and those legs in all 
 probability were those of celebrated victors. Searching 
 again^ I found a cock made of lead^ evidently a cMUVs 
 toy, that had once gladdened little Eoman eyes not far 
 from where I stood. Again rummagings I come upon 
 roundels formed from the bottoms of earthenware 
 vessels^ evidently used by the gamins of Uriconium 
 in some game^ possibly Hop-scotchs which we know to 
 be a pastime of remote antiquity. And then for the 
 ladieSs as Autolycus would say^ I found in the Museum 
 combs of bonOs bodkins^ beads^ bracelets ; and for the 
 
16 
 
 THE BUEIED EOMAN CITY IN BEITAIN. 
 
 men^ studs and buttons of bronze^ a strigil to scrape 
 his skin in the public sweating-bath^ and tweezers to 
 tweak his curled beard. But what is this — a patent 
 
 The Leaden (toy) Cock. [Actual size.'] 
 
 medicine in Uriconium ? Yes — an eye-salve — here is 
 the seal of the physician who vended it^ marked^ like 
 Eowland^s Macassar^ with his name^ 
 to prevent unprincipled imita- 
 tion/-’ as follows : — 
 
 The dialihanum of Tiberius 
 Claudius, the physician for all com- 
 plaints of the eyes, to be used 
 The Physician’s Stamp, with egg,’’ 
 
 DTALiB^rnuL^AD a week 
 
 OMNE VlTium Oculo- turning over the curiosities of 
 
 [Actual size.] Uriconium and come at last to the 
 conclusion that^ Romano-Britons as they were^ they 
 must have ate^ drank^ slept^ played^ and looked won- 
 
THE BUEIED ROMAN CITY IN BRITAIN. 
 
 17 
 
 derfully like ourselves. Not so^ however^ if we are to 
 believe newspaper paragraphs — the barbarians who 
 put an end to all this refinement ages ago. 
 
 In the corner of an orchard abutting upon the 
 Watling Street road^ in the village of Wroxeter^ but 
 within the old line of walls^ upwards of twenty human 
 skeletons were a short time since exhumed^ several of 
 the skulls of which presented extraordinary appear- 
 ances. Their facial bones are^ in fact^ all askew^ the 
 eye-sockets of one side of the face being in advance of 
 those of the other side. Such terrible-looking creatures 
 as these real original Angles were certainly enough 
 to frighten the city into subjection. An examination 
 of these skulls^ however^ and a knowledge of the con- 
 ditions under which they were found_, would lead to 
 the conviction that Mother Earth has to answer for 
 this distortion. When exhumed^ they were in the 
 condition of wet biscuit^ in consequence of the state 
 of the ground^ which is full of springs. It can easily^ 
 therefore^ be imagined that the weight of the super- 
 incumbent earth acting through so many centuries 
 had pressed those skulls that had fallen sideways thus 
 out of their usual shape. There is in the British 
 Museum a skull of a Saxon warrior^ disinterred not 
 long since in Cambridgeshire_, with his Saxon orna- 
 ments about him^ which presents similar distortions 
 with respect to the orbits and the extraordinary 
 elongation of the head which these Wroxeter skulls 
 do. Judging from this fact alone,, I am inclined to 
 think that these poor people of the orchard have been 
 shamefully maligned as to their personal appearance. 
 
 c 
 
18 
 
 THE BURIED ROMAN CITY IN BRITAIN. 
 
 Close to the spot where these remains were founds the 
 Watling Street road dips down a steep bank towards 
 the Severn^ where there is a ford ; but in all proba- 
 bility^ in Roman times_, a bridge here crossed the 
 stream. Whether it was ford or bridge^ however^ 
 it is certain that a strong tower — possibly a water- 
 gate — terminating the city-wall towards the river here^ 
 guarded its passage^ as the foundation -walls have been 
 excavated entire. Standing on the mound which 
 marks its site^ I saw before me the silvery Severn 
 winding amid a thickly- wooded country^ once^ doubt- 
 less^ a forest teeming with wild boar and red deer. 
 On the opposite shore^ the old military Roman road^ 
 as yet strongly marked^ running between hedgerows^ 
 but grass-grown like the fields. The scene was so 
 calm and little disturbed by man^ that the imagination 
 could easily picture the Roman legions wending 
 towards the next great military station, their eagles 
 hashing in the setting sun. 
 
DINING-EGOMS FOE THE WOEKING 
 CLASSES. 
 
 If Glasgow can teach the London artisan how to dine 
 well for fourpence-halfpenny^ the Scot will do him a 
 great service. At the present moment the labouring 
 man in this great metropolis pays more extravagantly 
 for the two items of house-rent and food^ according to 
 what he gets^ than any of the classes higher in the 
 social scale_, for the simple reason that he is a retail 
 purchaser in both commodities on the smallest pos- 
 sible scale. But as he is at the same time a member 
 of the largest class^ and the only one that pays ready 
 money, he has only to club with his mates to stand in 
 the position of a wholesale customer on a scale which 
 dwarfs to insignificance the purchasing powers of all 
 other classes. The operatives of Glasgow^ or rather 
 those who have undertaken to cater for them^ have 
 been the first practically to appreciate this fact ; hence 
 the success of the dining-rooms for the working classes 
 in that city. Manchester^ we are told^ is about to 
 follow this good lead ; and London has already two 
 associations threatening to compete with our cook- 
 shops and alamode-beef houses. The great merit of 
 
 c 2 
 
20 DINING-EOOMS FOR THE WORKING CLASSES. 
 
 the Glasgow plan is^ that these dining-rooms are self- 
 supporting. The tariff at which the refreshments are 
 sold not only pays^ but leaves a small profit. There 
 is no petting on the part of lofty philanthropists who^ 
 on the score of a twenty-pound subscription^ con- 
 descend to superintend the tastes and appetites of 
 the working man. Another good feature of the 
 scheme is^ that only the best food is supplied. Only 
 those who have had a long acquaintance with the 
 artisan^ know how particular he is to have the best 
 his means will afford. This may look like extravagance 
 on his part^ but it is really true economy^ and possibly 
 lies at the bottom of that superiority he boasts over 
 the ouvriers of other nations. A correspondent of the 
 Times tells us that for fourpence-halfpenny he got in 
 one of these dining-rooms a pint of pea-soup^ a plate 
 of hot minced collops (beefsteaks minced and stewed) ^ 
 a plate of potatoes^ and eight ounces of bread/^ all far 
 better in quality than could be got at a railway tavern^ 
 — a pretty good dinner for the keenest appetite^ and 
 infinitely more nutritious than that provided for the 
 workman in his own home. The carte from which he 
 has to choose is not very ample^ it is true^ but there 
 is range enough^ with two exceptions^ to satisfy any 
 ordinary appetite. But these two are^ however^ 
 worthy of note. For instance^ why should a working 
 man be compelled^ by the rules of these dining-rooms^ 
 to eat beefsteaks and roast beef from morning to 
 nighty and from one yeaFs end to the other ? Surely^ 
 this is only repeating the error under which our 
 soldiers so long suffered^ and which not only disgusted^ 
 
DINING-EOOMS FOR THE WORKING CLASSES. 21 
 
 but physically impoverished them. We are asked to 
 approve this bovine monopoly^ on the score of the 
 simplicity of the arrangement^ by J. 0./^ in the 
 Times; but^ on the same principle^ oatmeal would 
 have far higher claims. Variety is as essential to 
 the working man^ in the article of food^ as to the 
 rich man_, who_, if he had to dine off beef day by day_, 
 would^ we fancy^ sing that national song^ 0 the 
 Roast Beef of Old England/^ to a less cheerful air 
 than he does at present. And why^ we ask^ is the 
 working man to have no beer ? Surely these establish- 
 ments are not set up in order to carry by a side-wind 
 what teetotal societies have failed to accomplish in a 
 direct manner. We sincerely trust that the promoters 
 of the London scheme will not follow the lead of the 
 Glasgovians in this particular^, as we feel confident of 
 its failure if it does. We will back the eating-house^ 
 with its bad meaL its hot steam^ its dirty benches^ 
 and its slatternly waiters_, but where the guest can 
 order his pint of half-and-half from the Red Lion 
 over the way^ against the best appointed working- 
 class dining-room that Glasgow can show that is 
 worked on the cold-water system. We should be 
 sorry to see these improved restaurants turned into 
 drinking-places ; but surely Temperance herself would 
 not deprive a poor man of his beer at dinner. 
 Drunkards are not made temperate by such means^ 
 and the really temperate will not brook any such 
 interference with their ordinary habits. It will be 
 remembered that an attempt was made by philan- 
 thropists to put down smoking in village clubs and 
 
22 DINING-EOOMS FOE THE WOEKIHG CLASSES. 
 
 reading-rooms^ and tlie total failure of these institu- 
 tions in consequence should not have been lost on 
 those who have engaged in this new movement. 
 Nothing is more difficult than to change the food and 
 drink of a people^ and any attempt to do so suddenly 
 or unnecessarily is sure to end in failure. These^ 
 though important errors in the scheme of management 
 of the Glasgow Working Men^s Dining-rooms^ are 
 counterbalanced by much that is excellent. The plan 
 of pricing every article offered at a penny (with the 
 exception of meat) is excellent^ as it enables the 
 hungry man to arrange a dinner so as exactly to suit 
 his coppers. Let us contrast such a repast as an 
 artisan will soon be able to get in any quarter of 
 London^ with that he at present obtains. If a car- 
 penter^ or a bricklayer_, or a road-maker is engaged 
 any distance from home^ his dinner-hour is spent 
 generally as follows : — When the bell rings to knock 
 off work^ he generally throws himself down on the 
 ground and has a snooze^ until his wife^ who stokes^^ 
 him^ performs this operation by means of a basin filled 
 with potatoes and cabbage^ and generally a piece of 
 bacon ; his fingers and a clasp-knife enable him to 
 complete his rude repast in a manner but little re- 
 moved from that of the hound in the kennel. To 
 such a man the decent cloth^ the seat_, the well- 
 ordered room^ the soup^ the collops_, and the slice of 
 plum-puddings would be so many elements of civili- 
 zations all tending to lift him in the social scales and 
 to give him that self-respect Avithout which there is no 
 true manhood. 
 
DINING-EOOMS FOR THE WORKING CLASSES. 
 
 23 
 
 Whilst^ however^ to a vast number of the bachelor 
 portion of the artisans^ and those who^ as we have 
 said_, work so far away from home as to prevent their 
 returning to dinner_, these Working Men^s Dining- 
 rooms will prove of infinite value^ we may perhaps be 
 allowed just to hesitate a doubt if their effect upon the 
 family life of the workman will be good. It will be 
 remembered that during the controversy in the Times, 
 How to Live on Three Hundred a Year,” it was 
 asserted that young men were spoilt by club life and 
 club dinners for domestic life. How will it be with 
 the young artisan^ accustomed to the luxuries of his 
 dining-room^ when he takes to himself a wife^ and has 
 to share with her the ill- dressed flaps of meat that 
 generally fall to the share of the poor man ? And how 
 will it fare with the poor wife in those cases where the 
 husband is enjoying himself on soup^ and roasts and 
 puddings in his well-liL well-warmed^ spacious dining- 
 room ? In Glasgow and Manchester^ where there is 
 no domestic life for the factory hand^ and where hus- 
 band_, wife^ and child ahke toil in the mill^ these 
 dining-rooms are a godsend^ and indeed a necessity ; 
 but in London the case is somewhat different; and 
 the social meal spent together is certainly an element 
 of domestic life worth maintaining^ and we trust it 
 will not be shaken by the introduction of this new 
 Glasgovian scheme. It is not only the mid-day meal 
 that is threatened with revolution^ but all other meals. 
 For twopence a man can get a pint of excellent coffee_, 
 with milk and sugar_, and four ounces of buttered 
 breads so that he has only to hire a bed^ and here is 
 
24 DINING-EOOMS FOE THE WOEKING CLASSES. 
 
 his board found him for about seven shillings a week. 
 It may be asked^ can a working man spend even so 
 much for food simply on himself^ when he has a 
 family ? The better class artisan^ certainly ; but the 
 labourer^ whose wage is not more than a pound a 
 week^ No. This leads us to the reflection that in all 
 these improvements the class that takes advantage of 
 them is far above that for which they were intended. 
 This was proved when model lodging-houses were first 
 established. These were intended for working men 
 only^ but it often happened that reduced gentlemen 
 were found in them ; and on occasions of excursion 
 trains arriving from the country^ well-dressed people 
 carrying carpet-bags were often found demanding 
 admission for the night. The pressure of class upon 
 class is^ however^ so greats that it is often difficult to 
 say whether the wearer of the fustian jacket or the 
 seedy black coat is the better off*. At all events^ when 
 these dining-rooms are self-supporting^ it matters 
 little what rank in the social scale frequents them^ 
 as they can be extended ad libitum,, and they violate 
 no principle of political economy. It is^ however^ 
 far otherwise when such schemes are supported by 
 public subscriptions^ for then the philanthropist enters 
 into unfair competition with the honest tradesman^ 
 and in the endeavour to minister to the needs of the 
 poor^ runs a chance of pauperizing respectable people. 
 A knot of active^ well-meaning persons of this class 
 seem to have stolen a march upon those who are 
 about to establish dining-rooms on the self-supporting 
 system^ — now working so well at Glasgow^ — and 
 
DINING-ROOMS FOR THE WORKING CLASSES. 
 
 25 
 
 advertise The London Association for the Establish- 
 ment of Dining and Refreshment Rooms for the 
 Working Classes. This scheme is to be partially 
 supported by donations, and we see that the honour 
 of managing or mismanaging the affairs of the associa- 
 tion is to be purchased for £10 and £25 respectively. 
 Of course a number of wealthy busybodies can always 
 be found to appropriate other people^s ideas, but there 
 can be no doubt of the fate of an establishment pre- 
 sided over by such a management. To start with, 
 they propose a bill of fare which is as extravagant as 
 that of Glasgow (in the shape of meat, at least) is 
 meagre. Here it is : — 
 
 Soups. — Meat soup, juUienne, soldiers’, and vegetable, each Id. 
 per pint. 
 
 Fish. — Cod, Id. ; plaice. Id. ; and toad-in-the-hole, Ijd. for 8 oz. 
 
 Joints. — Leg of mutton, 2d., 4 oz ; salt boiled beef, 2d., 4 oz. ; 
 stewed fresh beef, 2d., 4 oz. ; beef pudding, 3d., 10 oz. ; soldiers’ 
 meat, dumpling, and potatoes, 3d., 16 oz. ; beef pies, 2d. ; and 
 “ India pot ” (a very excellent, substantial dish, cold), 3d., 16 oz. 
 
 Miscellaneous. — Kidney and Scotch tripe, 2d., 6 oz. ; curried 
 tripe, 3d., 10 oz. ; tripe toad-in-the-hole, 3d., 10 oz. 
 
 Puddings. — Indian, 2d. for 8 oz. ; Yorkshire, 2d., 8 oz. ; honey- 
 balls, 2d., 8 oz. ; polenta (sauced), l^d., 16 oz. ; ditto (cheese), Ijd., 
 16 oz. ; sandwiches of new mixture. Id., 4 oz. 
 
 Vegetables, &c. — Carrots, greens, turnips, brocoli sprouts, -^d. 
 per plate each ; kohl cannon, ^d. for 4 oz. ; bread, Jd. for 4 oz. ; 
 and butter. Id. for 2 oz ; coffee, Jd. for three-quarters of a pint ; 
 cocoa. Id. per pint ; tea, price not yet fixed. 
 
 We should say such a carte as this will require the 
 contributions of the affluent; and whilst the guest 
 dehcately sips his soup julhenne and relishes his fish 
 and curried tripe^ he will without doubt bless the 
 benevolent individuals who provide him with such 
 
26 DINING-EOOMS FOR THE WORKING CLASSES. 
 
 excellent fare at so small a charge. The extravagance 
 of such a scheme will_, however^ correct itself^ and the 
 alamode-beef house need not fear any prolonged com- 
 petition from this charitable institution for feeding 
 the million. 
 
 We have^ however^ the word of Mr. Warriner^ the 
 Instructor of Cookery to the Army at Aldershot^ that 
 this bill of fare is even more economical to the associa- 
 tion than that used in the dining rooms in Glasgow. 
 If this be really so^ what need is there of donations ? 
 On the contrary^ it should give a greater profit than 
 the self-supporting Glasgow scheme. Answer me 
 that^ Master Brooke ! At all events^ whichever 
 scheme succeeds^ the working man in search of a 
 good dinner will be sure to be a gainer^ and we trust 
 also that the publican will be a loser^ which he certainly 
 will if these dining-rooms alter a very obnoxious rule^ 
 and supply the working man with his pint of sound 
 table-beer to wash it down^ in place of the salted^ 
 tobacco-flavoured liquor^ cunningly contrived to make 
 him thkst afresh^ which he will find in every public- 
 house in London. 
 
SILYEETOWK” 
 
 U 
 
 The boy^s most popular notion connected with India- 
 rubber is^ that it is good to make bladder pop and 
 in order to make this material^ it has to go through a 
 process of manufacture which comes to boys by a kind 
 of instinct. We all remember^ during ^^map days/^ 
 how the india-rubber_, too often called into requisition, 
 grew hot and crumbled, and as the pieces broke off, 
 how they found their way into the mouth to undergo 
 the process of mastication, and how, when chewed to 
 a proper consistency, it became ductile, non- elastic, and 
 sticky, — qualities requisite to make it imprison the air, 
 which, on pressure, forced its way through the yielding 
 substance in the shape of bladders, that burst with a 
 pop, the sole reward of the schoolboy for hours of 
 very tiring jaw- work. How little we imagined, when 
 employed in this manner, and enjoying by anticipation 
 the simple pleasures of the final pop, that we were 
 going through a process which Science has since indi- 
 cated as the best method of manipulating india-rubber 
 for the purposes of the domestic arts. In the powerful 
 machinery employed by the manufacturers of caout- 
 chouc, we see but an elaboration of the masticating 
 
28 silveetown/^ 
 
 powers of the boy’s jaw^ which^ with the heat of the 
 mouthy works up the sixpenny square of india-rubber 
 into the substance we are all so well acquainted with. 
 
 We paid a visits the other day^ to Silvertown/’ 
 the little manufacturing village at North Woolwich^ 
 belonging to the Messrs. Silver^ in which the many 
 substances into which india-rubber can be trans- 
 formed are produced by the powerful and curious 
 machinery there at work ; and it was whilst watching 
 the different processes that we came to the con- 
 clusion that the boy is father to the man^ even in a 
 manufacturing capacity^ as we have already hinted. 
 
 How little we are able to forecast the uses to which 
 a new material may ultimately be applied^ is perhaps 
 as much evidenced by this substance^ caoutchouc^ as 
 by any other in existence. As far back as the year 
 1770^, Dr. Priestley^ in the introduction to his book on 
 Perspective^ says^ Since this work was printed off^ I 
 have seen a substance excellently adapted to the 
 purpose of wiping from paper the marks of a black- 
 lead pencil. It must^ therefore^ be of singular use to 
 those who practise drawing. It is sold by Mr. Maine^ 
 mathematical-instrument maker^ opposite the Royal 
 Exchange. He sells a cubical piece of about half an 
 inch for three shillings^ and he says it will last for 
 several years.” 
 
 How little this philosopher imagined that a sub- 
 stance thus incidentally mentioned in a drawing-book 
 was destined to become one of the most useful sub- 
 stances in the arts and sciences — nay^ to be an absolute 
 necessity of civilization. 
 
SILVEETOWN. 
 
 29 
 
 iC 
 
 }} 
 
 It is at the same time very remarkable that for 
 upwards of sixty years india-rubber never advanced 
 beyond the hands of the drawing-master ; and that^ 
 during that long period_, all its virtues were supposed 
 to consist in its power of correcting schoolgirls^ 
 drawings. How many substances are there still before 
 the world in a like condition of embryo ? — what is to 
 be the splendid future of gutta-percha^ aluminum^ 
 and the other scores of new substances that are 
 beginning to crop up around us ? 
 
 It would seem as though it were destined for the 
 rubber plant to play a great part in the worlds as it is 
 found in great abundance in all parts of the globe 
 within tropical latitudes ; and^ like the palm^ it is 
 probably destined to do the missionary work of civi- 
 lization far more effectually than any of our societies 
 constituted for that purpose^ as the pursuit of these 
 two valuable products will lead organized bands of 
 European traders deeper and deeper into the recesses 
 of the tropical wilderness^ where the solitary mission- 
 ary could not hope to make any permanent lodgment. 
 
 The best kinds of caoutchouc are the Para and the 
 bottle india-rubber. The latter is familiar enough to the 
 reader ; but perhaps it is not so well known that what 
 is termed caoutchouc is the milk-sap of trees^ and that 
 this juice is to be found in many other trees besides 
 the rubber-tree ; indeed_, there seems to be little doubt 
 that we may draw upon a large portion of the tropical 
 vegetable world for this valuable material. The india- 
 rubber as imported takes the form of bottles_, and 
 there is a kind known as negro-head^ possibly because 
 
30 
 
 SILVEETOWN. 
 
 (C 
 
 
 when cut open it presents an appearance somewhat 
 like that of a human brain with its numerous convo- 
 lutions. The first process we witnessed at the Messrs. 
 Silver^s was the softening of these bottles and negro 
 brains/^ if we may use the term^ in a large tank filled 
 with warm water. The rubber is macerated here 
 for some hours^ for the purpose of softening and 
 cleansing it — the process it undergoes in the school- 
 boy^s mouth. When it has been long enough in the 
 water^ it is taken to the masticating machine^ which is 
 a kind of calendering apparatus_, heated by steam_, and 
 operating upon the lumps of rubber as the boy^s 
 grinders do. You see the big lumps drawn in between 
 the smooth cylinders^ apparently the most obstinate^ 
 indigestible^ unmanageable stuff in the worlds and 
 after a while it issues from the other side in the form 
 of so many brown-bread towels/^ or those coarse- 
 looking^ oatmeal- coloured rubbing cloths that are a 
 necessary appendage to every sponging-bath. The 
 transformation from the dirty-looking lumps of rubber 
 to these little towels^ about eight inches wide and three 
 feet long^ is the oddest thing possible. As they 
 emerge^ they are folded up and placed on shelves^ just 
 as we see them in baths and wash-houses. Twenty- 
 four hours^ exposure to the air changes their oatmeal 
 colour to a very dark brown. This is the first stage 
 through which all the different preparations of india- 
 rubber go — its cleansing process. The reader will 
 possibly remember that india-rubber presents itself 
 under different aspects^ either as pure india-rubber^ 
 such as tobacco-pouches^ &c.^ are made of^ or as 
 
SILVERTOWN. 
 
 31 
 
 cc 
 
 
 whitish-looking india-rubber^ which we are familiar 
 within the form of macintosh -cloaks. The vulcanized 
 india-rubber has a somewhat similar aspect^ — a clay- 
 like colour^ as far removed as possible from the rubber 
 as we see it in the bottle. Pure india-rubber is manu- 
 factured in a very simple manner. A number of the 
 brown-bread towels are taken to the Masticator^, a 
 machine composed of two powerful steel rollers_, 
 revolving with unequal velocities^ and heated by 
 steam. The towels disappear in this powerful mangle^ 
 and the act of mastication begins. As towel after 
 towel disappears^ the rubber is worked into a huge 
 bolster^ which is masticated over and over again^ until 
 it assumes the form of sticky pulp_, — bladder pop/^ 
 infact^ on a large scale. The bolster is now taken 
 from the machine^ and placed in an hydraulic press, 
 one foot wide, nine inches deep, and six feet long. 
 Here it remains for two days under a pressure of fifty 
 tons, and comes out a solid block of homogeneous 
 india-rubber, big enough for a Titanic drawing-master. 
 It has now to be cut into sheets. This is done by 
 placing it in a machine fitted with a cutter, which cuts 
 with a quick lateral or saw-like motion. The block is 
 pushed forward against this cutter, and the thickness 
 of the sheet can be regulated to the hundred-and- 
 twentieth of an inch : indeed, sheets of that tenuity 
 are sometimes made. It is a pretty sight to watch 
 the thin film of rubber being detached in this way 
 with an unerring accuracy. 
 
 The most important application of india-rubber in 
 this form is its use as an insulator for telegraphic 
 
32 
 
 SILVERTOWN. 
 
 (C 
 
 
 purposes. Hitherto^ gutta-percha has been, almost 
 universally employed — for deep-sea cables especially ; 
 but there can be little doubt that india-rubber is a far 
 more durable material^ and it is slowly coming into 
 use^ notwithstanding the opposition of the manu- 
 facturers who have embarked large capital in the 
 collection and working of gutta-percha. It is one of 
 the most interesting sights in the manufactory to see 
 the machinery envelope the telegraphic wires with its 
 non-conducting rubber sheathing. This is done by 
 winding round them spirally thin bands of rubber by 
 machinery driven by steam-power. Thirty or forty 
 spindles for this purpose are seen revolving in a large 
 room^ and hundreds of miles of wire are thus covered 
 in the course of the week. The covered wire is sub- 
 jected afterwards to heat^ which fuses the laps of the 
 covering riband of rubber together^ and thus makes it 
 impermeable to the entrance of water^ and effectually 
 prevents the escape of electricity. 
 
 The process of manufacturing soft india-rubber is 
 more elaborate. What is termed spread sheet india- 
 rubber^ or that kind of which waterproof garments 
 are manufactured^ is made by masticating_, and mixing 
 sulphur in the proportion of two ounces to a pound of 
 the rubber^ and then dissolving it to the consistency 
 of dough by the admixture of naphtha. When in this 
 soft state it is passed through finely-adjusted rollers 
 and spread out into thin sheets ; these^, as they emerge 
 from the rollers or rolling-pins — for the rubber is 
 spread out like so much doughy — are passed over a 
 steam chesty which drives off the naphtha^ and dries^ to 
 
cc 
 
 SILVEETOWN. 
 
 33' 
 
 
 a certain extent^ the material. In some cases^ the 
 film is rolled on to a cotton fabric and adheres to it^ 
 film after film being added until it is built up to the 
 required substance : the object of this building up 
 being to prevent the possibility of air-holes occurring^ 
 which would be fatal to a waterproof or airproof 
 material. When it is not necessary for the india- 
 rubber to be lined with cloth^ the roller of that 
 material on to which it is wound is sized ; consequently 
 no adhesion takes place between the two materials^, 
 and the rubber is easily peeled off. The process of 
 vulcanization that gives such extraordinary resiliency 
 to the material^ which we are so familiar with in the 
 form of india-rubber bands^ springs^ &c., is accom- 
 plished by the application of heat. The sulphur 
 having already been worked into the material^ and 
 thoroughly incorporated with it^ the articles made of 
 this hard compound are carefully packed in sand so as 
 not to touch one another^, and then are run into steam 
 chests^ where they remain from two to six hours^ 
 according to thickness^ at a heat varying from 200 
 to 300 degrees. This application of heat turns the soft 
 doughy substance into the famous elastic material 
 which_, under the name of vulcanized india-rubber^ is 
 even invading the province of steel in the manufacture 
 of springs. What is the nature of the chemical change 
 which takes place when this final increment of heat is 
 applied is entirely unknown_, and the discovery itself 
 was one of those fortunate accidents which have so 
 often produced noble fruit. The peculiarity of the 
 elasticity produced by vulcanization is^ that its power 
 
 D 
 
34 
 
 SILVEETOWN.- 
 
 cc 
 
 
 never seems to be worn out. The bow must be unbent^ 
 if its force is to be husbanded ; but an india-rubber 
 band may be kept stretched to its utmost limit for 
 years^ and it will still retain its wonderful resiliency. 
 
 But we have yet to describe another process — that 
 of manufacturing hard india-rubber. To Goodyear^ 
 the American^ the merit of this great discovery is due ; 
 for great we must call it^ inasmuch as it has introduced 
 into the arts and sciences a material somewhat similar 
 to horn^ but which possesses qualities far surpassing 
 that natural product^ and which can be made in any 
 quantities and in any sizes. 
 
 In this new material a very large amount of sulphur 
 is used : to produce mere vulcanization two ounces to 
 the pound of rubber is sufficient ; but to make hard 
 india-rubber^ or ebonite^ as the Messrs. Silver term 
 their preparation of it^ as much as two of sulphur to 
 one of rubber is used. The application of great heat^ 
 say 300 degrees, transforms the india-rubber thus 
 treated into a material more resembling to the eye 
 ebony than anything else — a dense black substance, 
 which takes a high polish, is very light, and to some 
 slight extent elastic. The uses to which hard india- 
 rubber is put can scarcely be enumerated. In many 
 articles it is entirely displacing horn and tortoise-shell. 
 Hundreds of tons, for instance, are sold to the comb- 
 makers ; for paper-knives, handles of all kinds, 
 bracelets most closely imitating jet — but with this 
 advantage over that material, that it will not break 
 by falling on the floor — cups and troughs of all kinds, 
 and especially those for the use of photographers, as 
 
SILVERTOWN. 
 
 35 
 
 cc 
 
 
 neither acids nor metals have action upon it ; in shorty 
 we scarcely know to what this beautiful hard substance 
 is inapplicable^ so multifarious are the uses to which it 
 has already been applied. It is greatly used as an 
 insulator in telegraphy^ in consequence of its non-con- 
 ducting quality ; and moulded into forms before being 
 baked^ it takes the place of many articles formerly 
 made of gutta-percha^ to which material it is infinitely 
 preferable^ as it is neither affected by heat nor cold. 
 
 The little community of Silvertown is_, so to speak_, 
 self-contained. Situated^ as it is_, far away from the 
 town^ on the Essex shore of the Thames^ the pro- 
 prietors had^ as it were^ to found a little colony. 
 When the factory was built^ there were no houses 
 near^ and no market^ consequently the Messrs. Silver 
 had to provide for the wants of their workpeople^ and 
 they certainly have done so with a care worthy of all 
 praise. The rows of cottages in which many of their 
 workpeople are housed contrast very favourably with 
 the squalid habitations one passes on the railway 
 in going to the factory. Then there is a store in 
 which bacon^ flour^ and many other necessaries of life 
 are obtainable at cost price^ and a public-house in which 
 the beer is pure. The Messrs. Silver found it was 
 incumbent upon them to build a public-house^ other- 
 wise it would have been done for them by independent 
 parties_, and the consequence would have been that a 
 very efficient means of administering to the comfort of 
 the workpeople^ and at the same time of controlling 
 excess^ would have passed out of their hands. 
 
 The great charge brought against the manufacturers, 
 
 D 2 
 
86 
 
 SILVBETOWN.' 
 
 cc 
 
 
 as a class^ used to be that they were utterly careless 
 with respect to their hands/^ and that they looked 
 upon them merely as machines — or rather less than 
 machines — for when their day^s task was done^ they 
 washed their hands of them^ and cared not what 
 became of them ; a state of things which placed the 
 free Enghshman^ as regards physical comfort^ in a less 
 favourable position than the negroes^ whose bodily 
 wants their masters have always had the good pohcy 
 to attend to. In thus making themselves responsible 
 to a certain extent for the domestic comfort of their 
 workpeople^ the employers are doing service to the 
 community at large^ for it is to the exertions of 
 individual manufacturers that society must look for 
 the accomplishment of that all-important task the 
 elevation of the social status of the workman. The 
 example of little comm unities such as Silvertown is 
 beginning to tell upon that mass of squalor which once 
 seemed to be so hopeless in its immensity. It is 
 becoming a habit of large manufacturing companies^ 
 we are happy to see^ to look upon their workmen as 
 human beings^ to be cared for^ rather than as machines^ 
 to be used up ; and the formation of the two little 
 colonies of engineers at Wolverton and Swindon has 
 been followed on a smaller scale by thousands of 
 private employers throughout the country^ who have 
 found out that their own interests are concerned in 
 concerning themselves with the happiness of those in 
 their employ. The Messrs. Silver may justly pride 
 themselves in belonging to the noble brotherhood of 
 scientific men which is doing such good service to the 
 commonwealth. 
 
EAILVATS AND CITY POPULATION. 
 
 In the infancy of Railroads many towns viewed them 
 as of old pest-houses were viewed^ and drove them far 
 off as intolerable nuisances. After awhile^ however^ 
 these sapient municipalities found themselves stranded 
 high and dry^ whilst they had the mortification of 
 seeing the main stream of life and commerce passing 
 through hitherto unimportant hamlets^ and suddenly 
 swelling them into towns of consequence. One would 
 have thought that a lesson still fresh in the minds of 
 most middle-aged persons of the community would 
 not have been without its influence^ and that in these 
 days citizens and the Legislature would be as ready to 
 receive the rails into their midst as they were of old 
 to banish them afar off. But if we are to believe the 
 statements of a few noble lords of the Upper House, 
 metropolitan lines are still greater nuisances than 
 were the lines of old traversing the country. 
 
 Lord Shaftesbury thinks the Great Eastern Railway 
 Company ought not to possess themselves of Finsbury 
 Circus. Open spaces are so many lobes of the metro- 
 politan lung, without which the tailors and shoe- 
 makers cannot breathe. So far so good ; and 
 
38 
 
 EAILWAYS AND CITY POPULATION. 
 
 speaking generally we agree that we skonld rather 
 multiply than diminish such wells of fresh air ; but it 
 does seem rather extraordinary that in the very next 
 breath his lordship is found complaining that upwards 
 of a thousand houses will be cleared by this same 
 company for the continuation of its main line and 
 branches into the metropolis. Now_, to make a hne is 
 to make a very wide street^ and to open up avenues 
 of fresh air. In the one case the company are 
 flagellated for building in an open space^ and then^ 
 again^ they are threatened with the lash for wishing to 
 open new ones. It is quite clear that^ hit high or hit 
 low^ his lordship is not to be satisfled. 
 
 Then^ again_, we have a dismal picture painted by 
 his lordship of the fever jungles in which tailors and 
 shoemakers are obliged to live; and yet^ when it is 
 proposed to ventilate these fever districts with open 
 lines^ the hardship of turning them out at a week^s 
 notice is insisted upon. In our opinion, the only 
 way to get rid of the pestilential nest of dens in which 
 the working population of this metropolis at present 
 live, is to separate them by moving among them rail- 
 way lines in every direction, and in this manner 
 disintegrating and breaking them up, just as the 
 police do dangerous multitudes, by moving among 
 them wedge-like divisions of their force. 
 
 The Great Fire of London, which swept away the 
 old town, was a mercy attended no doubt with much 
 suffering ; but we believe that the introduction of the 
 scores of lines which are intended to form links of 
 intercommunication between the great stations in the 
 
EAILWAYS AND CITY POPULATION. 
 
 39 
 
 suburbs will end in a second destruction of London — 
 a London^ we may say_, tliat^ with all our boastings is 
 not in its back slums very much in advance of that of 
 two centuries ago. 
 
 The look of Mr. Stanford's Map of the Proposed 
 Metropolitan Railway Schemes for 1863 is^ at firsts 
 appalling enough^ but it is quite clear the new lines 
 make a greater appearance on paper than they will in 
 reality as many of them are to run underground. A 
 very important feature of most of them is that they 
 strike at the very heart of the metropolis instead of 
 keeping in the far distant background. No doubt 
 this very boldness will raise up opposition against 
 them ; but^ as far as we can see^ wholly without 
 cause. 
 
 The dealings of the great masses of the population 
 are with the old channels of communication ; we want 
 to get into the great thoroughfares and the great 
 centres^ and not into far-off boulevards and shabby 
 half-populated neighbourhoods. The great drawback^ 
 for instance^ of the Metropolitan Line is^ that it runs 
 far away from the points to which Westenders are 
 mainly bound. Watch the lines of omnibuses_, and 
 where they gather thickest there the pulse of population 
 throbs the fullest. 
 
 We hear people expressing horror at the idea of a 
 railway station at Regent^s Circus. Of course_, if it 
 were proposed to run trains^ or even to open an 
 underground station, in the centre of this crowded 
 thoroughfare, the scheme might justly be pronounced 
 absurd. But would it be supposed, from the outcry. 
 
40 
 
 EAILWAYS AND CITY POPULATION. 
 
 that the plan is to clear away an open space for a 
 station in the frowsy cholera district lying between 
 Queen Street and Brewer Street_, near to Golden 
 Square^ in order to put the many great roads that 
 debouch close upon this spot in railway communica- 
 tion with the Great Northern station and the northern 
 district of the town ? 
 
 Go near to the great centres of traffic ! Of course 
 they do^ just as fishermen make for the densest part 
 of a shoal of herrings — for railway companies are but 
 fishers of men. Then_, again^ we hear loud complaints 
 against the route of the Kensington^ Knightsbridge^ 
 and Mid-London line^ because it proposes to run from 
 the Great Western station_, under Kensington Gardens 
 and Hyde Park_, and under Piccadilly to Leicester 
 Square^ and so on. 
 
 Now^ if there has been one road more demanded 
 than another by the public voice^ it has been one 
 through these public parks^ which_, as far as public 
 carriages are concerned^, divide in half two of the 
 most important portions of the town night and day^ 
 and during the hours of darkness even pedestrians. 
 
 We know an underground line would do all that the 
 public needs^ and leave the greensward intact; yet 
 the scheme is denounced^ because for a short time it 
 may necessitate some unsightly earth-heaps appearing 
 there. A great sewer may be driven at a vast depths 
 and with infinite mess^ along the same route^ but a 
 tunnel for the circulation of the people rouses an 
 indignant population of objectors. 
 
 We have seen Leicester Square cumbered by a 
 
EAILWAYS AND CITY POPULATION. 
 
 41 
 
 private speculator with a most hideous buildings with- 
 out a word of protest on the part of the inhabitants ; 
 and we have seen the same building cleared away^ and 
 the site devoted to the purpose of a vast dust-heap^ 
 and yet the proposition to erect a comparatively low 
 building for a most useful purpose is met by a yell 
 of derision. 
 
 If we kept our public spaces as well as they do 
 abroad — planting them with shrubs^ and laying them 
 out with flower-beds and public fountains_, into which 
 the public had a free right of entry_, — the cry of those 
 who are for protecting our open spaces would be ten- 
 fold more reasonable than it now is^ considering that 
 we lock up our squares^ and rigidly exclude the great 
 unwashed from touching its sooty and desolate-looking 
 sod. If our open spaces are to be anything more 
 than the potatoes and point of the Irish peasant — 
 their flavour only to be enjoyed in imagination — we 
 do not see that the public have so very much to lose 
 by their appropriation^ here and there^ as railway- 
 stations. 
 
 There is one argument^ however^ on the part of 
 those who are frightened at flnding the metropolis 
 threatened with being carried by the railway com- 
 panies by assault — an argument^, by-the-bye^ which 
 even the Times has not hesitated to use_, — ^namely,, 
 that cities are meant to live in/^ and not to be cut 
 and carved about by railway companies. IsTow^, that 
 cities are made to live in seems a very obvious truths 
 but in reality sometimes it is not a truth at all. The 
 city of London_, for instance^ is almost wholly deserted 
 
42 
 
 EAILWAYS AND CITY POPULATION. 
 
 at nigM ; the railway companies and the omnibuses 
 every evening disperse the vast crowd to surburban 
 houses^ and return it in the morning. 
 
 This attraction and repulsion from the central heart 
 is going on year by year with redoubled force^ and the 
 end of it will be that railways^ instead of condensing 
 and compressing human beings together by reason of 
 the room they take up^ will spread the population over 
 an area twentyfold the size they at present occupy. 
 The time will come^ no doubt_, when London proper 
 will consist of a series of vast suburbs connected by 
 railroads with a central business district. 
 
 Foreseeing this tendency of the time so clearly^, we 
 cannot but smile at the fears of those who apprehend 
 that railways are about to exclude every mouthful of 
 fresh air left to us. There are certain classes of the 
 population who must be^ at all times we suppose^ 
 resident citizens ; and they will get more air in con- 
 sequence of the flight of the wealthier portion of the 
 population towards the suburbs ; but we by no means 
 apprehend that large portions of the working popu- 
 lation are necessitated to dwell close to their work. 
 
 In our opinion^ the Legislature should exercise its 
 authority over the railway companies in the direction 
 of obliging them to run early and Jate trains at such 
 times and prices as would meet the means and needs 
 of the working classes_, rather than begrudge them 
 station space^ in order to conserve the wretched dwell- 
 ings that Lord Shaftesbmy^s tailors and shoe- 
 makers ’’ now inhabit_, at a rent far higher^ considering 
 their accommodation^ than his lordship and his class 
 
EAILWAYS AND CITY POPULATION. 
 
 43 
 
 pay for their own houses in the comparatively pure air 
 of the West-end. 
 
 We confess we do not put much faith in the value of 
 the promised edict of the Board of Trade. The want of 
 system in our railway communications cannot now be 
 mended by the hurried consultations of a few officials. 
 To attempt a consolidation of the different lines^ such 
 as shall give a free intercommunication between all 
 parts of this vast metropolis^ on any symmetrical plan_, 
 considering the want of symmetry that already exists 
 in the exterior lines themselves^ would be like 
 attempting to mend a Gothic building by piecing it 
 together with Greek work. All that we can now do 
 is to gather up the ends of the different threads of 
 communication in the best way we can^ leaving that 
 way to the ultimate judgment of the shareholding 
 public. 
 
ADVERTISING. 
 
 It is high time that the art of Advertising should 
 form an important element of education at our com- 
 mercial academies. Of what consequence is it to a 
 youth who is destined to become an energetic member 
 of the clothing profession^ or a pushing grocer^ or a 
 cutting baker^ that he should load his mind with items 
 of Eoman history^ or rack his memory with that pro- 
 miscuous number of questions and answers Miss 
 Mangnall has left behind her to the misery of school- 
 boys ? 
 
 The first duty of a tradesman is to puff his 
 goods_, and the boy that is to be brought up to trade 
 should be carefully inducted into the art and mystery 
 of doing this in the most skilful and original manner. 
 Mr. William Smithy acting-manager of the Adelphi^ 
 should be elected the first professor of this art, for he 
 has just published a little work in which he very 
 clearly sets forth that the chief use of all created 
 things is to serve as an eligible medium for adver- 
 tising. He would stick a poster on the moon if he 
 could reach it, whilst nothing is too small in his eyes 
 
ADVERTISING. 
 
 45 
 
 as an advertising agent. Let us quote from his pen 
 a familiar example : — 
 
 The trays used for taking in grogs, or the stouts, could he 
 turned into an advertising medium by having a centre and several 
 divisions, like the spokes of a wheel, and enclosed in a circular 
 margin. The rim, the centre, and every one of the several divisions 
 could contain an advertisement either painted on or prepared with 
 rice paper, and the same, paid by the advertiser, would leave 
 a good profit over the expense of the tray manufactured in 
 Birmingham. 
 
 Mr. Smithy like Napoleon^ is too great a genius to 
 be in the slightest degree influenced by the incon- 
 venience his schemes cause to others ; nay^ he even 
 calculates upon that inconvenience and trouble as one 
 element of success. For instance^ during the run of 
 the Dead Heart at the Adelphq he caused 
 10^000^000 adhesive labels to be worked ofl*^ shaped 
 in the form of a heart_, and inscribed with the name of 
 the play^ and these he instructed his agents to stick 
 on every object^ animate or inanimate^ they came 
 across. A gentleman returning from a dinner party_, 
 for instance^ is found by his wife to have one of these 
 labels pasted on his best dress-coat and three inside 
 his haL whereupon the lady indignantly protests 
 against the impertinence^ and adds^ It took me full 
 an hour to wash it ofl*.^^ 
 
 A genius less far-seeing than the author of How 
 to Advertise would have felt some compunctions of 
 conscience on the receipt of such an epistle. Hot so 
 Mr. Smith : on the contrary^ he chuckles at her 
 indignation^ and adds_, with the air of a man conscious 
 of having done a clever things The lady little thought 
 
46 
 
 ADVERTISING. 
 
 what publicity she was giving to the piece by commu- 
 nicating with her friends on the subject.^^ Surely the 
 force of advertising impudence could no further go. 
 Mr. Smith is great upon pictorial advertisements : he 
 would have all tradesmen shape their trade-cards 
 according to the form of the article they sell. The 
 butcher should have his card of the shape of a leg of 
 mutton j the poulterer should put into your hands a 
 well-drawn turkey^ inscribed with his name and 
 address ; Mr. Moses^ instead of throwing away 
 showers of books into cabs and omnibuses coming from 
 the railway^ should have cards made in the shape of 
 a paletot. No doubt this advice is sounds as we all 
 know how indestructible an article is a card_, and how 
 it turns up from time to time in our drawers. But 
 it is not enough to have a card clearly printed : it 
 should have a loop of riband to hang it to a nail. Mr. 
 Smithy who knows how much success depends upon 
 trifling details^ is very great upon the loop of silk. 
 
 But to leave Mr. Smith and his devices^ we may 
 survey for a moment^ with wonder, the power of the 
 advertisement viewed in its multifarious modes of 
 application. There is Mr. Holloway, for example, 
 who, by the mere force of money and Lord Ald- 
 borough^s leg, has managed to scatter his salve-pots 
 and his pills broadcast over the face of the earth. 
 Many legs have been made famous, — that of Miss 
 Kilmansege, of Madame Vestris, of Lord Anglesey; 
 but what does the world know of them compared with 
 the afflicted member of this noble lord, which is 
 paraded before the eyes of the four quarters of the 
 
ADVERTISING. 
 
 47 
 
 globe^ at an annual expense of £40_,000 in advertise- 
 ments? We hope the question is not an impertinent 
 one^ but we really should like to know from Professor 
 Holloway what annuity he has settled upon that noble 
 lord for the never-dying liberties taken with his sorely 
 afflicted extremity? Any man^ with an expenditure 
 of £40^00(1^ and a British nobleman^s leg as stock in 
 trade^ is pretty sure to go in and win; there is no 
 ingenuity required^ no flash of genius needed^ to insure 
 success. We feel no particular interest when the end 
 is obtained by the dead weight of gold. Advertisings 
 considered as one of the fine arts^ on the other hand, 
 opens up a fine field to the mind. In this line of art 
 the mere dull iteration of an advertiser gives place to 
 fancys curiositys wonder^ sometimes a sense of incon- 
 gruity as to time and place^ which irresistibly impresses 
 the mind. Miss Martineau^ when in Egypt^ saw 
 Warren^s Jet Blacking^^ written in large white letters 
 a yard high at the base of one of the Pyramids. What 
 person who saw this simple announcement ever forgot 
 it? The person who had the wit to ask^ ^^Who^s Eliza ?^^ 
 on every wall both in and out of town^ calculated 
 justly upon the amount of curiosity it would create^, 
 especially as the query was repeated from week to 
 week ; and Dickens did not think it beneath him to 
 profit by the hint when he posted the walls last Christ- 
 mas with Somebody^s Luggage.'’^ We were struck 
 very much the other day by seeing on the walls in 
 whitewash the question^ Who^s Griffiths ? followed 
 by the exclamation^ Thieves ! Thieves ! — Fire ! 
 Eire ! a clever method of advertising a Patent Safe. 
 
48 
 
 ADVEETISma. 
 
 This was the style inferential^ which Warren made the 
 public familiar with years ago in a pictorial manner^ 
 when he depicted the cat spitting at her image 
 reflected in the well-polished boot. There is room for 
 keen wit in advertisements ; but we fear the trading 
 mind rarely is equal to it. The tea-dealer^ who put up 
 as his sign a tea-chest_, and inscribed upon it Tu 
 doces/^ was clearly above the ordinary sort of 
 tradesmen. 
 
 There are literary tradesmen^ who turn every event 
 to their own advantage in comic verse ; but the true 
 style of poetical advertising went out when Robins died. 
 His advertisements sometimes rose to a height of gran- 
 diloquence which really showed genius. For instance^ 
 when_, on one occasion^ after describing a terrestrial 
 paradise,, he had the art to make this reservation : — 
 In fact^ there are but two drawbacks to this pro- 
 perty^ the noise of the nightingales and the litter of the 
 rose leaves.^^ We wonder what has become of the poet 
 Moses used to keep ? It is a long time since we have 
 been taken in by a flowery poem ending in the cele- 
 brated Mart.^^ Possibly,, like Southey^ he is equally 
 great in prose or verse,, for Messrs. Moses have lately,, 
 we perceive^ put in circulation an essay,, entitled 
 Gossip on Dress ; or,. Half an Hour^s Amusement 
 for our Friends and Constituents and we are com- 
 pelled to say that this pamphlet is very amusing^ and 
 tells us some facts that are new to us. And we can 
 quite forgive the conclusion the essayist comes to^ that 
 people should be almost as particular in the selection 
 of a tailor as in the selection of a family physician 
 
ADVERTISING. 
 
 49 
 
 or the very palpable hint that that tailor is the 
 inevitable Moses. This little essay marks a new era 
 in advertisings and it certainly is far more calculated 
 to gently instil the wishes of the advertiser than the 
 old stereotyped puffs of that firm. 
 
 It iss we thinks of vast importance to a man wishing 
 to bring himself prominently before the pnblics that 
 he should have an uncommon name. If William 
 Smiths for instances were to advertise his ^^hatSs^^ 
 nobody would remember anything about hims but we 
 defy any person to forget that Harper Twelvetrees 
 gets his living by his Bug- Destroyer. If we were 
 determined to advertise any articles and possessed a 
 commonplace name that would not stick in the public 
 memorys we should take a fresh one for commercial 
 purposes — a good sticking cognomen that would not 
 be forgotten. 
 
 In advertisings it is well to beware of feeble attempts. 
 If a man has capitals he should go on until his name 
 might stand for the leading article he sells. For 
 instances ^^Watherston and BrogdeUs^^ in the public 
 eyCs are synonymous with gold chains. If we called 
 a table-knife a Mappius^^ the term would be under- 
 stoods time was when a Doudney would be 
 translated over-coat.^^ This firm somehow seems to 
 have dropped out of the advertising world ; since it 
 has moved westward probably it has grown too genteel 
 to advertise. We question if the public take any 
 heed of the scrawls with whitewash upon walls. It 
 seemSs at bests ^ cheap and nasty method of 
 
 puffing goods ; moreovers we think people resent the 
 
 E 
 
50 
 
 ADVERTISING. 
 
 liberties advertisers sometimes take with, private 
 property in this way^ and we know they do when 
 public property is made to act as boardman in this 
 impudent manner. For instance^ we saw one of the 
 bridges the other day daubed over with the injunction^ 
 Buy your clothes of Moses and Son/^ and a certain 
 literary journal some time since posted over all the 
 lamp and other posts along the Bayswater Bead with 
 puffing posters. This was a great mistake. 
 
 There are certain times when a man is in a mood 
 to read an advertisement^ and others when he is not. 
 Two-thirds of the persons^ for instance^ who have to 
 despatch their breakfast and skim the cream from the 
 Times in ten minutes^ never look at an advertisement; 
 in fact^ the double supplements^ is only useful to 
 those persons who are in want of something — a very 
 large class^ — and not to the mere newsmonger. 
 
 There are two places^ however^ in which we always 
 notice an advertisement^ especially a pictorial one — 
 the suburban railway- station and the splash-board of 
 a Hansom cab. 
 
 When the mind is undergoing any suspense_, it is 
 singularly alive to little trifles that come within its 
 cognizance. Dickens has illustrated this fact in the 
 Trial-scene of Fagin^ who^ whilst his fate is pending 
 in the jury-box^ falls to counting the rails in front of 
 the dock^ and wonders how they became broken^ and 
 when they were dusted last. » 
 
 This extraordinary attitude of mind is often found 
 in the railway traveller^ who^ in a moment of excite- 
 ment or anxiety, finds himself pacing up and down a 
 
ADVERTISING. 
 
 51 
 
 platform waiting for a train. On such occasions the 
 reader will^ perhaps^ remember how deep an impres- 
 sion was made upon his mind by the drawing of 
 darkens gigantic manglewurtsel^ or of the pictorial 
 illustration of the effect of Thorley^s Food for Cattle. 
 
 The best spot in the whole world for an advertise- 
 ment^ to our mind_, is the little oval splash-board of the 
 Hansom cab which faces you as you sit down. A ride 
 in one of these vehicles is very exhilarating^ and the 
 effect upon the brain is to impress objects upon it 
 vividly. Again^ it is the only object in the foreground 
 to be seen ; and^ without doubt^ an advertisement in 
 this situation is more deliberately read that in any 
 other place in the world. 
 
 Yet what a wide subject Advertising is^ and how 
 many people successfully perform it without letting 
 others know what they are about ! But the subtle 
 and indirect method of doing it belongs to the Fine-art 
 of PuflBng. 
 
 E 2 
 
 university 
 
 OF ILLINOIS 
 
A DAY WITH THE COEONER, 
 
 The life of a Coroner in a mighty metropolis like 
 London must be an odd one. His grim duty leads 
 him day by day into palaces and cottages^ back-slums 
 and noble mansions. In a certain sense he is a 
 modern Charon^ whose pass is required ere a company 
 of corpses^ some days more^ some days less^ can find 
 quiet burial. They say ghosts listen for the sound of 
 the crowing cock before they retreat to their narrow 
 beds ; so mortals^ suddenly deprived of life^ must have 
 the permit of twelve good men and true and the 
 coroner^ s signature^ ere the sexton will lift a shovel 
 in their behalf. 
 
 Being desirous of having one day^s experience of 
 the accidents and offences which pick ouL as it were — 
 we will not say by accident^ for there is a natural law 
 in these cases as in all others — the lives of a certain 
 per-centage of our population^ I asked permission to 
 accompany my friend^ the able medical coroner for 
 the central district. Permission being obtained^ I was 
 ready at the ofiice at the appointed hour. Now you 
 must be prepared/^ said my friend^, for a good hard 
 day^s work. Here are nine cases/^ said he^ consulting 
 
A DAY WITH THE CORONER. 
 
 53 
 
 an official paper as a gourmand would a bill-of-fare ; 
 
 I don’t know what they are^ or how they will turn 
 ont.^^ In shorty it was a kind of invitation to take 
 pot-luck. 
 
 Onr first visit was to Middlesex Hospital^ and onr 
 first duty to visit the dead-house. Even to those 
 accustomed to the presence of death there is some- 
 thing very startling in the sudden transition from the 
 life and noise of a great metropolitan thronghfare to 
 the dead-house of a large hospital^ tenanted by silent 
 inmates such as these^ who but a few days since 
 moved in health and spirits amid the hnbbnb_, dream- 
 ing not that they were on the edge of that bourne 
 from whence no traveller returns. 
 
 Three blackened deal coffins^ placed side by side_, 
 with their lids removed^ revealed the subjects of the 
 impending inquiry^ after a glance at which the coroner 
 returned to the inquest-room. 
 
 The importance of being able throughly to identify 
 the features of the dead is of the last consequence. 
 It will be remembered that in the Sadleir case^ the 
 very fact of the death was disputed_, and it was 
 asserted that the body found on Hampstead Heath 
 was not that of the delinquent M.P. Indeed_, to this 
 moment it is believed by the Irish that he is still 
 alive. Fortunately the late Mr. Wakley was able to 
 put the matter beyond dispute^ as he knew the 
 deceased^ and recognized him when the inquest 
 was held. 
 
 Conditions^, however_, are always arising under 
 which it is exceedingly difficult to identify a body_, 
 
54 
 
 A DAY WITH THE COEONEE. 
 
 in consequence of the progress which decomposition 
 has made. Such a case has just arisen. It will be 
 remembered that a body was found floating in the 
 Thames^ which the police suggested might be the 
 body of the supposed murderer of the poor girl who 
 was stabbed in George Street. It was of great conse- 
 quence^ therefore^ that the corpse should be identified. 
 The features^ however^ from long immersion in the 
 water^ were so swollen and disflgured as to be abso- 
 lutely unrecognizable. 
 
 At this juncture^ however_, Dr. Richardson suggested 
 that science was able to restore the face of the corpse; 
 and he succeeded in his efforts. Having reduced the 
 face to its original size by the action of a principle 
 known by the scientiflc terms of exosmosis and 
 
 endosmosis/^ and its blackened colour having been 
 bleached by the action of chlorine gas_, so much of 
 the face of the dead was made out as to prove that it 
 belonged to a youth of twenty — a fact quite sufficient 
 to prove it was not that of the murderer. Thus 
 science once more has come to the aid of justice. But 
 I must return to the story of my day^s doings. 
 
 The jury having assembled^ the process of swearing 
 them in commenced. It may be as well to observe 
 that^ in ordinary cases^ the run of the jurors called by 
 the coroner^s beadle seem to consist of the small 
 householders and shopkeepers of the parish— cer- 
 tainly a very unlikely-looking lot to investigate any 
 knotty case ; indeed^ my experience gathered during 
 the day was^ that the chief labour of investigating the 
 facts falls upon the coroner^ and that scarcely one of 
 
A DAY WITH THE CORONER. 
 
 55 
 
 the jurors sworn in seemed capable of drawing up a 
 verdict. In important cases the better class trades- 
 men or the gentry are generally summoned, and a far 
 higher amount of intelligence is thus at the service of 
 the coroner. 
 
 The first case gone into was rather complex. 
 
 Alexander , a greengrocer, coming home drunk, 
 
 fell down the stairs and broke his leg. He had been an 
 habitual drunkard, so much so as to compel his wife, a 
 poor crushed creature, to live apart from him, because 
 he was too poor to keep me,^^ said the poor woman, 
 crying. I suppose, if the truth were known,'’^ said 
 the coroner, it was because he beat and otherwise 
 ill-used you,^^ — a correction of her own statement to 
 which she gave a tacit consent, but which the poor 
 battered piece of humanity, bundled up in rags, would 
 never have volunteered. The ultimate cause of death 
 in this case was singular. The man being a toper, 
 the shock of the accident, a fracture of the femur, 
 brought on delirium tremens : to subdue this, opium 
 was given by the hospital surgeon by what is termed 
 subcutaneous incision ; that is, a puncture was made 
 in the skin, and a small quantity of the drug was 
 injected beneath it, from the effects of which he died 
 narcotized. A diseased kidney perhaps helped this 
 unlooked-for termination of the case, but it never- 
 theless was an extraordinary example of peculiar 
 idiosyncrasy in the man^s constitution, which could 
 not stand an opiate which would scarcely have injured 
 a healthy child. The primary cause of the death, be it 
 remembered, was drunkenness. 
 
56 
 
 A DAY WITH THE CORONEE. 
 
 Case No. 2 was that of Henry a carman. 
 
 Having been drinking freely^ he managed^ whilst 
 walking beside his horse^ to get his foot under the 
 animaks hoof; he was thrown, and the wheel of his 
 car passing over his ribs fractured them, and he died 
 from inflammation of the lungs. The verdict here 
 was inflammation of the lungs brought on by an 
 accident whilst in a state of intoxication. 
 
 Case No. 3 was that of William , a tailor. In 
 
 reeling out of the doorway of the Red Lion, where he 
 had been drinking, he slipped, and twisted and broke 
 his leg. A compound comminuted fracture of the 
 tibia and fibula,^^ said the youthful house-surgeon, 
 with strict professional accuracy. Amputation was 
 performed, and the man died of delirium tremens. A 
 verdict was drawn up to that efiect, and the poor 
 widow, bursting out into tears, sobbed out that she 
 was left perfectly destitute. When death comes to 
 members of the comfortable classes it is bitter enough ; 
 — to lose a loved husband, what in the whole world is 
 apparently so overwhelming? Yet what is such a 
 blow to that which falls upon the poor ?. A working man 
 by some accident is hurried out of life, and the poor 
 widow loses not only the companion of her life, but 
 the bread of herself* and helpless little ones. The 
 reader will realize the horrible position of the poor 
 widow ; and yet the coroner sees such cases every day, 
 and the poor creatures are left to sink back into that 
 maelstrom of human suffering styled the world,'' 
 and the sun shines day by day as though life was 
 a bright festival. 
 
A DAY WITH THE CORONER. 
 
 57 
 
 St. Mary^s Hospital^ Paddington^ was our next 
 destination. The hospitals generally furnish those 
 cases for inquest which result from accidental death. 
 In many institutions of this nature an inquest-room is 
 provided in the building itself^ but the authorities of 
 St. Mary^s have not done so ; and after visiting the 
 dead-house^ and inspecting the deceased^ a woman 
 and a boy^ both evidently Irish by their physiog- 
 nomy^ the coroner and his beadle adjourned to a 
 public-house^ where a fresh jury had to be sworn in. 
 After contemplating the face of the dead_, it gives 
 the mind a slight shock to have to wend one^s way 
 through the crowd of a tap-room^ and to have to sit 
 in an apartment smelling of stale tobacco^ and pre- 
 senting all the disorder of the last nighPs debauch. 
 
 We shall probably have some trouble here/^ said 
 the coroner to me^ sotto voce, as I see the witnesses 
 are mostly Irish. The deceased^ Anne Gardner^ was 
 a charwoman^ and had died in the hospital from 
 exhaustion following an amputation of the foot. The 
 first witness called was her sister, a gaunt Irishwoman 
 with a face through which the skull seemed to protrude, 
 if we may so speak. The poor woman kept up a 
 crooning noise until called upon to give her evidence 
 as to the cause of accident, which was confused enough 
 to justify the coronePs anticipations. In answer to 
 the query, if the deceased had told her when in the 
 hospital how the accident happened, she replied, Her 
 sister had told her that she ^ knocked at the door and 
 it was not opened,^ — that the blood was all up 
 the stairs, just as though a bullock had been killed.^^ 
 
58 
 
 A DAY WITH THE COEONEE. 
 
 The woman knew no more than this^ and she kept 
 repeating her tale as though she were throwing valu- 
 able light on the matter. The next witness^ a shorty 
 red-faced^ and determined looking Englishwoman^ 
 told her story in a very different manner. She had 
 gone out on Saturday night to buy provisions for 
 the family^ leaving deceased_, who lodged with her^ at 
 home ; the deceased having apprised her that she also 
 was going out to get a bottle of gin. When she 
 returned at twelve o^ clock at night_, having forgotten 
 her key^ she was obliged to ring her husband up_, and 
 on opening the door he remarked that the stairs were 
 very wet ; on getting a ‘light she perceived that they 
 were wet — but with bloody which was traced up to 
 the woman^s room. On knocking^ the deceased 
 answered that she knew all about it^ and would clean 
 it up before her landlord was down in the morning. 
 With this reply^ singularly enough^ the woman was 
 satisfied^ and went to bed. Having some misgivings^ 
 however^ she demanded admittance to the room early 
 in the mornings and the woman^ apparently^ from the 
 sounds shuffled to the door on her hands and knees_, 
 and opened it. There was not a thing in the room/^ 
 said the witness^ but that was covered with blood.'’^ 
 The bones of her leg^ near the ankle-joint^ were 
 broken^ and through the night she had been bleeding 
 most profusely. As the poor creature was too exhausted 
 by the haemorrhage to give an account of the accident 
 she had met with^ it could only be inferred from the 
 appearances in the house. The door not being opened 
 to her^ and fearing to let her landlord know that she 
 
A DAY WITH THE CORONER. 
 
 59 
 
 was out so late^ and^ but too probably_, being drunk 
 at the same time^ she had attempted to step from the 
 doorway across a low parapet wall on to the parlour 
 window-sill^ a stride of four feet and a half ; in doing 
 so^ she fell into the area^ for the blood was first 
 observable at the kitchen door^ through which she 
 obtained admission. 
 
 From this point traces of blood were observable 
 up the kitchen stairs to the front door^ which^ it is 
 inferred^ she opened^ to take in the gin-bottle and 
 a small basket which she had deposited there pre- 
 viously to attempting to get in at the window ; from 
 thence the life-blood of the poor creature doubled 
 back through the passage^ and was traceable up to 
 her bed-room. It is not to be wondered at that the 
 poor woman never rallied from the operation of ampu- 
 tating her foot^ as^ indeed_, nearly every drop of blood 
 was previously drained from her body. 
 
 Since it was pretty evident that the poor creature 
 never would have made an attempt to enter the house 
 in the manner she did unless she had been intoxicated^ 
 and as, moreover, her landlady was obliged to confess 
 that she was given to drink, the coroner suggested 
 to the foreman of the jury that they should state in 
 their verdict that the accident was the result of her 
 intoxicated condition at the time; but the jury refused 
 to accede to his wish; and he afterwards informed 
 me, that when he held inquests at public -houses, he 
 always found a disinclination on the part of the jury 
 to notice the fact of intoxication playing any part in 
 the death, even when the fact was but too evident ! 
 
60 
 
 A DAY WITH THE COKONER. 
 
 Having no teetotal tendencies^ and believing that 
 to take a pledge of total abstinence from alcohol is 
 simply a piece of pnritanical absurdity^ which^ if 
 carried out in all cases where temptation presents 
 itself^ would result in an abnegation of the will itself, 
 I nevertheless could not help being struck with the 
 astounding fact_, that in the first four inquests held 
 promiscuously in one day, every case of death was 
 clearly caused, either directly or indirectly, by the vice 
 of intoxication. 
 
 Mr. Gough might have lectured upon the subject 
 for years, yet I will venture to say that he never 
 would have made such an impression on me as did 
 the faces of those four poor creatures, staring up at 
 me from their coffins — not emaciated by disease and 
 long-suffering, but perishing in the prime of life, and 
 leaving behind them long trains of suffering children 
 and helpless widows. There are many sayings that 
 we use glibly enough, and none among them further 
 from the truth than one we often hear — Providence 
 takes charge of drunkards and little children.^^ 
 
 The next case was that of a little Irish boy who had 
 been killed by a cab running over him. The lad had 
 been following an Irish funeral, — one of those noisy, 
 demonstrative affairs which are pretty sure to gather 
 up all the loose Milesian element that lies in the line 
 of procession. The lad was riding behind one of the 
 mourning cabs, and falling off, the next cab in the 
 hne ran over him. 
 
 The cab — according to the only intelligible witness 
 who saw the accident take place — was loaded with six 
 
A DAY WITH THE COEONER. 
 
 61 
 
 persons inside and six on the roof ; it was not won- 
 derful that the wheel passing over his body ruptured 
 the liver^ and killed him within two hours. He was 
 the last of three children whom his mother^ a poor 
 widow_, mourned. 
 
 The duties of a metropolitan coroner extend over 
 a very wide district; from Paddington^ accordingly^ 
 we had to hurry away to Islington^ where a new 
 beadle was awaiting his superior^ with a fresh jury 
 ready to be sworn in. Coroners^ beadles are charac- 
 ters in their way^ and they have all their peculiarities 
 in getting up their cases ; but they all agree in one 
 particular — a desire to make as much of each inquest 
 as possible^ not from any pecuniary advantage deriv- 
 able therefrom^ as they are paid only 7^. 6d. for each 
 case^ but simply for parade sake. Thus they invariably 
 put forward their weakest witnesses firsts and in this 
 manner often waste the time of the court in parading 
 testimony of no importance whatever, whilst the only 
 material witness is kept until the last. Unless the 
 coroner is up to this little weakness, his time is often 
 taken up in a very unnecessary manner. 
 
 The three following inquests were on children, two 
 
 of whom were illegitimate. The first, Ernest H , 
 
 an infant of two years old, out quite beautiful with 
 measles,^^ as his mother said, was seized with a fit, 
 in which it died. As no medical man was present, 
 and no medical certificate of cause of death could be 
 given, the registrar refused a burial order, and hence 
 the inquest. Coroners in the metropolitan district 
 are more than usually critical in cases of illegitimate 
 
62 
 
 A DAY WITH THE COEONER. 
 
 children^ in consequence of the fearful amount of 
 infanticide prevalent in such cases. 
 
 I remember the late coroner giving it as his opinion 
 that a fearful amount of children were cunningly got 
 rid of at the moment of birth^ by simply allowing 
 the new-born babe to fall into a tub of water. The 
 medical test of a child having been born alive is 
 the inflation of the lungs ; where this has not taken 
 place^ it is held to have been stillborn, a fact taken 
 advantage of by some mothers in the way we have 
 mentioned. 
 
 In the case of this poor child, however, there ap- 
 peared to have been no foul play. In a second case, 
 a child of two years of age — ^^a little come by chance,^^ 
 as one of the witnesses phrased it — ^was allowed to 
 run out into the road uncared-for; and, a cart com- 
 ing by, ran over and killed it. The verdict might, 
 with justice, have been ^‘^Went by chance,^^ for the 
 little care that was taken of it. 
 
 Still another child called for the verdict of the 
 twelve good men and true. It was a sad sight to 
 see the httle face, placid as though it slept, in its 
 mimic coffin of blue, and still sadder to hear the 
 young mother^s agonized recital of its death. It was 
 alive and in her arms at three o^ clock in the morning, 
 when she gave it the breast ; then she went to sleep 
 with the child on her arm.^^ When she awoke she 
 kissed it, ^^as was her custom,^^ when she found it 
 was cold. The child evidently had been either over- 
 laid, or smothered with the bed-clothes. 
 
 Scarcely a week elapsed, the coroner informed me. 
 
A DAY WITH THE COEONER. 
 
 63 
 
 without his having to hold an inquest on a poor infant^ 
 put out of life^ in some cases perhaps purposely^ but 
 in the great majority of instances by over-fondness 
 of the mother in covering the little one^s face up for 
 warmth sake. The majority of women treat their 
 tender little ones just as if they were so many hot 
 rolls^ smothering them in blankets^ forgetting that 
 the breath of life in their fragile frames is but too 
 easily extinguished^ and that they have not the power 
 to struggle as older children would against the cover- 
 ing that is poisoning them with their own foul breath. 
 
 Our hard day^s work terminated with the case of 
 an old sailor^ who^ after braving all the terrors of the 
 ocean^ came off a long voyage to die of diseased 
 heart in his own bed. The body lay in a small dark 
 room, next to the common living-room, and the stench 
 of decomposition was so great that the jury started 
 back in dismay when the door was opened for the 
 purpose of his being identified. The practice adopted 
 in this country, and in this country only, we believe, 
 of allowing the dead to remain in the very apart- 
 ments of the living, is certainly most revolting ; and 
 we hope the time is not far distant when the pubhc 
 will seek for the establishment of perfectly ventilated 
 reception-rooms for the dead, previous to interment. 
 Those who have witnessed the arrangements in Munich, 
 Frankfort, and other places abroad, for separating the 
 lifeless clay from the living for the short time previous 
 to burial, must see how we are sinning against the 
 commonest hygienic rules, as well as against decency 
 itself, in tolerating our national habit of hugging the 
 
64 
 
 A DAY WITH THE COEONER. 
 
 dead until we are compelled to relinquish them by 
 their very offensiveness. 
 
 Walking home^ I wondered how the coroner lived^, 
 moved_, and had his being without being terrified lest 
 at every turn some little unforeseen occurrence might 
 bring a brother coroner to sit upon him. Having 
 seen how lightly accidents occurred^ it was days 
 before I could get the thought out of my mind_, that 
 we are continually within an ace of our life. 
 
 In all probability^ however^ the coroner is the last 
 person in existence to feel these foolish fancies^, as 
 death in his experience comes from so many and from 
 such conflicting causes^ that the one balances the 
 other^ and thus keeps his fears in a happy equilibrium. 
 
 We are not all coroners^ however^ and I must con- 
 fess that for days afterwards I looked much shyer 
 at a crowded crossing than was my wont^ and took 
 especial good care to walk outside of ladders. 
 
 If, however, accidents take place according to a 
 regular law, and we all go out in the morning with 
 a hundred-thousandth chance of breaking our legs, a 
 five hundred-thousandth chance of being drowned, or 
 say a sixty-thousandth expectation of stepping upon 
 a piece of orange-peel and fracturing our skull, we 
 may at least be less nervous about these matters, 
 for, do what we will, the statistician, in estimating 
 the number of annual accidents and offences, claims 
 a certain right in us which we cannot avoid or 
 dispute. 
 
VIVISECTION. 
 
 The Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals 
 has been of late greatly perturbed with respect to the 
 vivisections practised on horses in the veterinary 
 schools of Prance. This is no matter for surprise^ as 
 the public generally have been moved with disgust 
 by the recitals given in the public papers some time 
 since of the experiments performed upon living horses 
 in the veterinary colleges of Prance for the sake of 
 affording instruction to the pupils. No doubt the 
 society was quite right in the representations it made 
 to the Emperor upon the subject^ and we are glad to 
 see that its remonstrances are likely to lead to the 
 suppression of the unnecessary cruelty inflicted for 
 instruction sake across the water. 
 
 Not content with this success^ however^ it has 
 commenced a crusade against the performance of 
 vivisection in any form^ and its members class any 
 operation which may lead to the most important 
 results in surgery calculated to relieve human suffering 
 in the same category as the maltreatment of a donkey. 
 
 It is extraordinary what absurd speeches excited 
 philanthropists will make when they meet together, 
 
 F 
 
66 
 
 VIVISECTION.^ 
 
 and; mutually alarm each, other by exaggerated 
 statements. 
 
 We have now before us the Eeport of the Inter- 
 national Congress held by this society at the Crystal 
 Palace last August_, and more audacious misstatements 
 of fact than are contained in that Eeport we certainly 
 never read. Eeally it would appear from them that 
 surgeons in this country are a set of demons who 
 take delight in cutting up living creatures without 
 aim or purpose. 
 
 The value of vivisections is utterly denied_, and a 
 reverend prebendary gravely affirms that the living 
 body can give no response to the interrogatories of 
 the scientific surgeon which cannot as easily be 
 gathered from the dead subject ! 
 
 Another gentleman asserts that no discovery of any 
 moment has arisen from the practice of vivisection^ 
 and there was an almost unanimous chorus in favom* 
 of putting down the practice of torturing living 
 animalsj^^ except in certain special cases and under 
 certain conditions^ of which we presume a committee 
 of the society would wish to elect itself the judge. 
 
 Imagine John Hunter having to pause in the pursuit 
 of some subtle investigation into the ways of life^ in 
 order to ask permission of a conclave of old ladies of 
 both sexes that he might try an experiment upon a 
 mouse ! 
 
 We think it would be well if the members of the 
 Congress^ before denouncing the practice of vivisection 
 in the terms they did^ had taken the trouble to inquire 
 respecting the frequency and manner in which it is 
 
VIVISECTION. 
 
 67 
 
 performed in England. To listen to the excited 
 speakers^ one would think that it was the custom of 
 surgical professors to cut up alive animals in the 
 class-room for the edification of the students. Now^ it 
 is scarcely necessary for us to state that vivisections 
 are never performed in the dissecting-room or theatre. 
 Certainly^ during the five years of our acquaintance 
 with one of the largest hospitals in London^ not one 
 experiment of any kind was performed on a living 
 animal. Vivisection^ when it is performed^ is done by 
 the physiologist in his own study. The tortures endured 
 by the animal whilst under the process of dissection 
 exist only in the imagination of the speakers. 
 
 Common sense should have told them^ that whilst 
 we have such a thing as chloroform^ an operator would 
 not be likely to pursue his investigations amid the 
 frantic struggles of an agonized animal. As for the 
 
 cutting and carving/^ and the dissection/^ said to 
 be carried on without a definite purpose^ it is a simple 
 calumny. The division of a nerve^ the tying of an 
 artery^ the section of a muscle^ in the vast majority of 
 cases^ are all the operations required for the elucidation 
 of the problem of life the physiologist may be seeking 
 to solve. Any surgeon who should aimlessly mutilate 
 any living creature would instantly lose caste among his 
 brethren^ who^ we would beg to remind the members 
 of this society^ are not Feejee Islanders or subjects 
 of the King of Dahomey^ but educated English 
 gentlemen. 
 
 We really scarcely know how to deal with the extra- 
 ordinary statement that vivisection can teach nothing 
 
 E 2 
 
68 
 
 YIVISECTIOX. 
 
 that may not be equally well learned from the dead 
 body. If life and death are the same thing in the 
 minds of these gentlemen_, there can indeed be little 
 use in attempting any argument with them. Equally 
 absurd is the idea evidently in the minds of many of 
 the speakers^ that we should wait for the accidents that 
 are always occurring to the human frame to elucidate 
 the many problems that yet remain to be solved in 
 physiology. We are afraid if we waited for the exact 
 accident required to suit the exact case demanding a 
 solution^ that the science of life would make but tardy 
 progress. 
 
 In answer to the assertion that no good has ever 
 come of vivisection^ it will be sufficient to say that it 
 was the knowledge thereby gained by John Hunter 
 that made him the profound surgeon and physiologist 
 he was. Had he been influenced by the squeamish 
 doctrine set forth by this society^ the great reforms in 
 the art of surgery which date from the time of his 
 teaching and writing v/ould not yet^ in all probability, 
 have been accomplished. The vast service he per- 
 formed for humanity in discovering the means of 
 obliterating aneurisms in the human frame would 
 alone be sufficient to confute those who deny the 
 value of vivisection; and in our opinion the destruction 
 of a whole hecatomb of dogs would not weigh in the 
 balance against the value of that great discovery. 
 
 But it is in the study of the nervous system that the 
 use of vivisection has been so clearly shown. It may 
 be said without the slightest hesitation that we should 
 have been as ignorant of the true mode of action of 
 
VIVISECTION. 
 
 69 
 
 that system as were the ancients^ had it not been for 
 the labours of Bell and Marshall Hall^ both of whom 
 gained all the knowledge with which they have lit up 
 that hitherto dark subject out of the bodies of living 
 animals. 
 
 Dr. Marshall Hall used to say that the frog was 
 
 God^s gift to the physiologist/^ and there can be no 
 doubt that unless the highly- organized nervous system 
 of the frog had been made subservient to the uses of 
 man by these philosophers^ Medicine would have alto- 
 gether lacked the mighty impulse they have given to 
 its teaching. 
 
 Dr. Brown- Sequard again is worthily following in 
 their footsteps^ and by the legitimate use of animal 
 life is clearing up the difficulties they have left un- 
 ravelled. To deny the rabbity or the frog^ or the dog^ 
 to such men as these_, would be equivalent to denying 
 the violin to a Paganini^ or the brush to a Maclise_, or 
 the pen to a Carlyle ; it is the tool with which they 
 work^ and without which their subtle intellect would 
 have been given to them in vain. To confound labours 
 such as theirs with the snug conceit of the paid lec- 
 turer^ who bids a gaping crowd watch the agonies of 
 an expiring mouse under the exhausted receiver of an 
 air-pump_, is^ in our opinion^ simple impertinence. 
 There is the cruel process of crimping cod and salmon 
 — ^Hhat is vivisection/-’ cried Dr. Tunstall_, of Bath. 
 Just so^ and a very cruel process it is^ and we think 
 the benevolent Doctor would be quite justified in 
 getting up an Anti- Crimping- Salmon Society/^ nay, 
 he would be equally justified in directing the energies 
 
70 
 
 VIVISECTION. 
 
 of sympatliizing friends against the skinning of eels ; 
 but^ in the name of common sense^ we must protest 
 against the lumping of acts suck as these with the 
 scientific and definite interrogations put to Nature by 
 trained philosophers — by means of vivisection. 
 
 Surely the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty 
 to Animals has not so far exhausted all the fields of 
 labour open to it as to justify its making this senseless 
 crusade against the means of furthering the aims of 
 science. 
 
 To rush to the rescue of a frog lying senseless and 
 painless in the hands of a physiologist^ whilst we shut 
 our eyes to the rush of man and horse and dog after 
 the poor hare or fox^ is certainly to strain at a gnat 
 and swallow a camel. We would put it to these 
 worthy humanitarians^, whether it would not be better 
 for them to adjourn their onslaught on scientific men 
 until they have rescued poor puss from the helterskelter 
 rush that is made upon him by the country gentlemen 
 for no more noble aim than mere amusement ? 
 
 Looking at the matter from our own point of view^ 
 of course, we do not mean to condemn this pastime, 
 which subserves to the health of those who enjoy it; 
 but from the extreme point of view taken up by this 
 Society, the pastime of hunting must be cruel in the 
 extreme. 
 
 Here then is a fair field for the labours of the Society. 
 Let it strive to put down the pastime of the country 
 gentlemen ; then it will be time enough to interfere 
 with the scientific labours of our philosophers. 
 
THE ENGLISH IN PAPJS. 
 
 A GENTLEMAN^ Under the signature of G. U./’ wrote 
 last season to the Times, complaining in the most 
 indignant terms of the slovenly manner in which our 
 countrymen and countrywomen dress immediately 
 they put the straits between them and home. He 
 sees and^ according to his own account^ shirks his 
 best friends because they appear in the streets of 
 Paris in the costumes of cab-drivers. The ladies are 
 offenders of a deeper dye ; they mount battered round 
 hats^ and save up their old dresses for the sake of 
 appearing perfect drabs in the polite city of Paris. 
 
 Our proud G. U.^ who we should surmise to be 
 one of those resident Britons who have become more 
 French than the Parisians^ is deeply hurt at our bad 
 habits^ and is evidently very much ashamed of his 
 touring fellow-countrymen^ and dreadfully afraid of 
 what the satirical Parisians will think of them. 
 
 Having myself returned from a montlds holiday on 
 the Continent, a week of which was spent in Paris, I 
 was not a little astonished at the frightful pelting 
 which I, in common v/ith the rabble rout of English- 
 men, have received at the hands of G. U. Having a 
 
72 
 
 THE ENGLISH IN PAIIIS 
 
 Un Anglais a Mabille. 
 
THE ENGLISH IN PARIS. 
 
 73 
 
 desire for a few weeks climbings I took pattern by the 
 great Napier^ and thought that when I had reduced 
 my impedimenta to a piece of soap^ a towel^ and two 
 
 An Englishman and his Belongings^ from the Meridian of Paris. 
 
 flannel shirts^ I had done a clever thing. In this 
 light marching order I had the audacity to return 
 home by way of Paris; had I had the honour of 
 
74 
 
 THE ENGLISH IN PARIS. 
 
 G. U.^s acquaintancesliip^ possibly I might have been 
 received by courteous cut direct ; but as I only know 
 an inferior sort of people^ who don^t judge friends by 
 their clothes^ I happily escaped that infliction. 
 
 I must candidly confess that my own impressions of 
 my fellow-countrymen abroad did not by any means 
 tally with those of G. U.^ who is so very sensitive for 
 the honour of his fellow- subjects. When I strolled up 
 the Champs Blysees^ if amid the crowd of natives 
 in lacquered boots^ dress coats^ and the other etcetera 
 appertaining to the full mufti in which Parisians will 
 appear abroad before dinner^ if^ I say^ I observed a 
 particularly manly-looking fellow in a light lounging- 
 coat and lace-up boots^ I was pretty sure to find^ on 
 looking into his honest face^ that he was a young 
 Englishman. If a brighter young Hebe than usual 
 passed by^ in maiden meditation fancy free/^ it was 
 sure to be a dear young English girl. 
 
 Amid the arid faces of the Parisian fair^ to my eye 
 the bright cheek of our English rose was as the waters 
 of some oasis to the traveller after the dreary desert. 
 They might have had round hats^ but what of that ? 
 I am quite sure they were not battered^^^ and also 
 certain that they crowned the face with more grace 
 than the best bonnet of Paris would have done. 
 
 It is pretty well conceded that the young English- 
 man is the best-dressed man in the world (a fact 
 which G. U. evidently does not know) ; but I mean 
 to assert^ what will doubtless be contested^, that the 
 English gentlewoman carries the palm for the ease 
 and simple elegance of her attire. The grace of the 
 
THE ENGLISH IN PARIS. 
 
 75 
 
 human frame is less disguised in her by the milliner ; 
 you see more of the woman and less of the mode. 
 Possibly there may be a reason for this in the finer 
 condition of the raw material^ if we may be allowed 
 such a phrase when speaking of the gentler sex. We 
 know that cooking has arrived at such perfection in 
 Prance as only to disguise the badness of the meat. 
 
 But letting this pass^ and returning again to the 
 sensitive feelings of G. U.^ let us see what evidence 
 he has to give of the sneers of the Parisians at our 
 slovenly appearance in their fair city. He tells us 
 that we are caricatured in every printsellePs window^ 
 and that the Palais Royal is full of plaster statuettes 
 which jeer us as we pass. We may remark en passant 
 that^j in the caricature line at leasts the Parisians — the 
 acute^ sarcastic Parisians — are the dullest dogs in 
 Europe. 
 
 If an actor^ taking the role of a Frenchman at the 
 lowest theatre in London^ were to talk of eating frogs^ 
 he would be hissed off the stage for the staleness of his 
 joke ; but in the best Parisian theatres the Englishman 
 is still represented in top-boots and belcher-hand- 
 kerchief^ either beating his wife^ or exhibiting her 
 for sale in the market-place with a rope round her 
 neck. This is considered capital fun in Paris to this 
 day_, and is sure to bring the house down. When 
 Punch touches up the Frenchman^ or when Wigan 
 brings him on the boards^ they hit him^ we fancy^ a 
 little harder. But let us see what their caricaturists 
 can do. G. IJ. tells us that our slovenly outlandish 
 dressing is the constant theme of their pencil. 
 
76 
 
 THE ENGLISH IN PAEIS. 
 
 At the beginning of this chapter is the gentleman 
 who holds the mirror up to Nature^ and shows us 
 just as we appear in that delightful spot^ the Jardin 
 Mabille. 
 
 At a glance the reader perceives there is not much 
 of the cabman about him ; on the contrary, in his 
 dress at least, there is somewhat of the petit-maitrc. 
 But where, by all that is gracious, did our English 
 man get that hat ? Could he obtain it at any price 
 here ? Did Lincoln and Bennett or Christy ever see 
 such a specimen? That necktie, again. Come, now^ 
 G. U., confess that cabmen do not do the thing in 
 that style. And the coat, waistcoat, and flower — 
 why Jimmy Jessimy never turned out in brighter 
 trim. 
 
 •If this is the Frenchman's typical Englishman, he 
 certainly is far removed from the cabman of G. U. 
 The only ghost of a joke as far as we can see, is the 
 delightful mixture that Un Anglais is indulging' 
 in — coffee, claret, and rum-and- water (by the lemon 
 floating in it) — warranted, we should say, to take the 
 bloom from his cheeks next morning. Is it a fact, 
 we may ask, that the Adames apple in the English- 
 maids throat is more prononce than in other people^s^ 
 or is the exaggeration of the picture another of our 
 Parisian friend^ s brilliant jokes ? 
 
 But what have our friends across the water to say 
 to the English Ladies ? This is the reply, in the shape 
 of one of the innumerable clay statuettes, which 
 abound in the shops of the Palais Royal, and a speci- 
 men of which will be found on a previous page. Of 
 
THE ENGLISH IN PARIS. 
 
 77 
 
 course^ our critics don^t neglect to hang the ladies on 
 the arm of their conductor^ like two panniers. 
 
 We know in good society this is voted dreadfully 
 provincial^ and we don^t think well-bred people are 
 guilty of such a solecism; nevertheless^ the custom 
 has its charm^ the cavalier is nearer to his work^ and 
 no advantage of position is given to either fair. More- 
 over it is a very pretty position to find yourself^ as 
 it were,, the battle ground across which the nimble 
 fire of feminine tongues is exchanged. But let that 
 pass ; we will plead guilty to the possibility of Paris 
 being shocked by this kind of coupling ; but are 
 these the round battered hats of our censor? Are 
 these the slovenly English? The man is evidently a 
 prig got up at a great expense by Mr. Moses ; but he 
 certainly runs into the opposite extreme to cabbyism. 
 Of course,, the Parisians must poke their fun at the 
 Enghsh coiffure. In the majority of the statuettes, 
 the English lady wears the hair in single ringlets 
 down to the waist, — the French face canT stand the 
 hair thus dressed ; moreover, the French hair wonT 
 curl so kindly as ours ; hence the sneer ; — but here 
 we have the very agony of dishevelled locks, and 
 the very Quakerism of braids, not very true as to 
 the ladies^ coiffures, but yet not quite an absurd 
 caricature. 
 
 But those waists, and those ridiculous polka jackets, 
 falling over those crinolineless skirts ! Are they a 
 libel or not, fair reader, on English ladies^ costume 
 abroad ? If I can believe my own eyes, they donT 
 dress so in the ball-room-village of Interlachen, at 
 
78 
 
 THE ENGLISH IN PARIS. 
 
 Spa, or Baden-Baden. We never met any of them 
 on the boulevards in Paris ; and even if we had, they 
 do not carry out G. U.'^s atrocious libel upon fair 
 Englishwomen's costumes abroad, that it is slovenly 
 and slipshod. 
 
 An idea strikes us. We know that in Prance and 
 other continental countries, luggage is always paid for 
 box by box. We have seen Paterfamihas standing 
 aghast at the pile of trunks he has to see weighed in 
 foreign railway stations. We know this forms a very 
 important source of revenue of their railway com- 
 panies ; is G. U., we ask in all good faith, bribed by 
 them to pile up this mountain of impedimenta still 
 higher, and does he do his work accordingly by 
 abusing, in the TimeSy his fair countrywomen for their 
 shabbiness ? 
 
 If I know anything of my fair countrywomen, I 
 think I am not far out in believing that their instincts 
 to make themselves as taking as possible are not 
 likely to be dulled by a visit to Paris ; and of this I 
 am certain, the English gentlemen who dress like 
 cabmen, are confined to the personal friends of the 
 fine gentleman who signs himself G. U. in the Times, 
 
THE NEW HOTEL SYSTEM. 
 
 When railways were first brought into operation^ and 
 one by one tlie splendidly-appointed mails that used 
 to leave the Post-ofiice yard at St. Martin^s-le- Grand 
 dropped out of life^ and found their way to coach- 
 makers^ backyards^ what a revolution was inaugurated 
 in our social habits ! Any great invention afiecting 
 our social arrangements is sure to carry in its wake 
 other changes scarcely less important. But the first 
 puff of the locomotive^ as it sped on its way to Man- 
 chester — ^what a shock it proved to old ways and habits 
 of thought ! 
 
 In conservative England^ however, although the 
 current of change may be moving rapidly in any given 
 direction, it is very remarkable how long old forms 
 and habits will remain to all appearance unchanged by 
 the revolutionizing agent. Progress goes on hke the 
 white ant in India, eating out the heart of the thing it 
 attacks, until the outside is hollowed to a shell, which 
 the slightest touch reduces to dust. Let us instance 
 our old Hotel system. 
 
 What ages seem to separate us from the days when 
 the travelhng world used to put up at the Bell 
 
80 
 
 THE NEW HOTEL SYSTEM. 
 
 Savage^ the Saracen^s Head^ the Swan with Two 
 Necks^ the Black Bull^ or the Bell in Holborn ! The 
 type of all these famous old inns was pretty much the 
 same — a great court-yard into which the coach rolled 
 with its heavy load_, and a quadrangle surrounded with 
 wooden galleries and balconies by means of which the 
 guests found their way to the different bed-rooms^ a 
 low bar^ a stuffy coffee-room^ and a much superior 
 commercial parlour/^ 
 
 The model was that of the Tabard of Southwark^ 
 in which the genius of Chaucer assembled his Can- 
 terbury Pilgrims in 1383. Such were the renowned 
 inns of London to which middle-class travellers 
 resorted not more than five-and-twenty years ago. 
 These were the only genuine old hotels in existence. 
 
 ^Tis true that a sort of mongrel inn_, constructed 
 out of three or four old houses^, with floors on different 
 levels^ and with partitions cobbled up to suit the 
 exigencies of the moment was from time to time 
 called into existence ; buL with the exception of the 
 houses mentioned^ there were no other hostels specially 
 built to suit the requirements of the travelling public. 
 
 In these inns such things as carpets were not 
 known in the public rooms thirty or forty years ago^ 
 and we can all remember the funereal four-posters in 
 the bed-rooms^ the old thread-bare carpets, the musty 
 old corner washstand, with the cast-iron soap, which 
 had passed through the hands of countless travellers 
 without even raising the ghost of a lather. 
 
 Such was the accommodation Paterfamilias was 
 obliged to put up with on coming to London a quarter 
 
THE NEW HOTEL SYSTEM. 
 
 81 
 
 of a century ago ; nay^ in many cases^ as late as ten 
 years back; and for charges such as should have 
 commanded all the comforts of home. It is true 
 there were^ and still are^ certain hotels which sought 
 a particular custom^ in which a traveller could be 
 comfortable enough. 
 
 For instance^ Furnivahs Inn^ in Holborn^ is still 
 the great home for country clergymen and other pro- 
 fessional gentlemen who love a good glass of port. 
 The Castle and Falcon is sought by Manchester mer- 
 chants and other commercial gents/^ and the Spread 
 Eagle^ in Gracechurch Street^ is still famous as a 
 resort for seafaring men. At the West-end^ again^ 
 the family hotels are little heavens below for those 
 who can command the purse of Fortunatus ; and the 
 Clarendon^ in Bond Street^ is a kind of noble preserve 
 in which all the old and noble families engage suites 
 of apartments for the term, of their natural lives 
 paying for them every season^ whether they are used 
 or noE whilst its younger sons hold out at Long^s. 
 And last^ but not leasts there is MivarFs^ in which 
 they receive nothing lower than crowned heads and 
 princes of the blood royal. 
 
 Notwithstanding the controversy carried on in the 
 Times, in which the shortcomings of London hotels 
 were so clearly pointed out_, and notwithstanding the 
 splendid hotels which have long flomdshed in the 
 United States^ it seemed as though matters would 
 never mend^ and that we were condemned to old 
 buggy four-posters for ever. The hotel proprietor 
 was an Old Man of the Sea^ and seemed destined to 
 
 Gr 
 
82 
 
 THE NEW HOTEL SYSTEM. 
 
 ride to the end on the shoulders of the British public. 
 Yet the whole system was hollow. 
 
 The Great Western Railway Company_, about a 
 dozen years ago^ built the Great Western Hotel; five 
 or six gentlemen formed themselves into a company to 
 work it^ perchance in fear and tremblings and from the 
 moment its doors were opened to its guests its success 
 has been triumphant. The pressing public want of 
 the age had been discovered^ and unheard-of dividends 
 were the result. Since that time a perfect mania for 
 gigantic hotels seems to have taken possession of 
 European capitalists. The Louvre and the Hotel 
 Grand in Paris have become famous throughout 
 Europe^ and in London every large terminus has its 
 mammoth hotel ; and the cry is still they come. 
 
 No greater contrast can be conceived than that 
 between the old-fashioned London hotel built and 
 added to by succeeding generations^ and the splendid 
 palaces constructed after some Palladian design^ which 
 we now see towering like huge elephants over the sur- 
 rounding houses. These establishments have leapt into 
 life^ fnlly armed_, like Minerva from the brain of 
 Jupiter. They differ as much from the hotels of our 
 forefathers as a railway-carriage difiers from a stage- 
 waggon. The traveller of the present day^ in short, 
 enjoys in this metropolis a first-class club hfe at 
 third-class club prices. 
 
 As the Grosvenor is one of the latest and largest of 
 these new railway-terminus hotels, we will accompany 
 the reader through its long galleries and splendid recep- 
 tion-rooms, and give him a general view of the under- 
 
THE NEW HOTEL SYSTEM. 
 
 83 
 
 ground offices in whicli the main business of the hotel 
 is carried on. 
 
 There is a very popular print which represents a 
 longitudinal section of a first-rate man-of-war^ and 
 which at one glance shows the spectator the whole 
 economy and anatomy of a great war- ship of the old 
 school. If we could make a transverse section of the 
 Grosvenor^ it would be equally interesting^ and^ more- 
 over^ it would represent a thing of the advanced 
 present^ instead of^ as in the case of the 120-gun ship^ 
 only a picture of the past. 
 
 No object in the metropolis strikes the provincial 
 Enghshman with more astonishment than the first 
 sight of this huge building. From the dip of Piccadilly 
 he sees it looming in the distance^ far over the head 
 of the royal palace ; as he gets nearer it seems to grow 
 into the air; and as he debouches full upon it from 
 some side-street^ it towers up hke a mountain before 
 him — a mountain chiselled from basement to garret 
 with clustered fruit and flowers^ aU wrought in 
 enduring stone. 
 
 A fastidious taste may perhaps think the building 
 somewhat overdressed^ but there can be no dispute 
 about the enormous amount of labour spent in its 
 enrichment^ or respecting the imposing appearance of 
 the pile^ with its stories without end which the 
 giddy head refuses to count. The richness of its 
 exterior far surpasses the Louvre Bfotel^ from which it 
 totally differs as regards construction. 
 
 From the open nature of its site it is lit almost 
 wholly from without^ whilst the model Parisian hotel,, 
 

 THE NEW HOTEL SYSTEM. 
 
 jammed in between tall liouses^ was constrained to 
 adopt the interior- court system^ which^ together with 
 some adYantages^ on the whole contrasts unfavourably 
 with the design of our great metropolitan hotel. 
 
 The disadvantages are patent the first moment we 
 enter the doors of the Grosvenor. Although we enter 
 a noble hall^ from which marble flights of stairs ascend 
 with almost regal dignity and amplitude^ yet we must 
 confess that we miss the exquisite grace which greets 
 the stranger as he drives into the crystal courtyard of 
 the Louvre. We miss the tropical verdure and the 
 trophies of flowers which adorn the grand court_, the 
 Oriental palms on the balustraded stahs through vdiich 
 fair faces gleam and bright eyes glisten from the open 
 windows of the gilded saloon as the bell announces 
 the arrival of strangers. By nighty again^ we miss the 
 bright cafe, the brilliantly illuminated offices^ and the 
 fringe of guests smoking and clareting^ and clattering 
 petits verves, whilst ladies take ices and demurely quiz ; 
 we miss^ also^ the salle-a-manger, which rivals the 
 finest rooms of the Louvre palace in gilding, in rich 
 mouldings, and in its painted ceilings. But in all 
 the true substantialities of an hotel, in the comfort of 
 its arrangements, in the light of its apartments, and 
 in its cooking, and last, but not least, in its moderate 
 charges, the Grosvenor may challenge comparison with 
 its Parisian rival. 
 
 When we speak of rivalling, however, we only refer 
 to management and arrangements, as no London hotel 
 yet constructed can bear comparison either with the 
 Hotel Grand or Louvre in magnitude. For instance. 
 
THE NEW HOTEL SYSTEM. 
 
 O 
 
 the Grosvenor makes up only 180 beds^ whilst the 
 Louvre can accommodate 500 guests^ and its sister 
 hotel an equal number^ we believe. Whilst^ however^ 
 Paris can sustain only two of these gigantic caravan- 
 serais^ London will^ in a short time^ possess at least a 
 dozen of the more moderate-sized railway hotels_, of 
 which we take the Grosvenor as a type. 
 
 But let us enter^ as we have tarried long enough on 
 the threshold. If you wish^ good traveller^, to spend 
 but moderately^ and you are therefore told that you 
 must mount to the third flight_, your mind and your 
 legs also will be relieved at being invited to enter the 
 ascending-room. 
 
 At the Louvre you sigh as you see your heavy 
 luggage taken up by the ^^lift/^ and wonder why 
 humanity should be treated worse than trunks and 
 portmanteaus. But ^Hhey manage these things 
 better at the Grosvenor — at least as far as the 
 traveller is concerned^ for he steps into a room^ throws 
 himself on a lounging sofa_, and^ lo ! he is in a trice 
 on the third floor. Meanwhile^ the porter is constrained 
 to carry his own load and that of the traveller up the 
 long and wearisome flights of stairs^ — an error this_, 
 but one which the traveller will at least contrast 
 favourably with the arrangements of his Parisian 
 hosts. 
 
 When we consider the waste of human muscles 
 that a few gallons of water scientifically applied can 
 save^ we wonder that these convenient ascending- 
 rooms were not in public use long ago. One hundred 
 and twenty gallons of water is sufficient to work the 
 
86 
 
 THE NEW HOTEL SYSTEM. 
 
 hydraulic apparatus by which the room_, with its com- 
 plement of seven inmates_, can be lifted^ say 120 feet^ 
 which^ at fivepence a thousand gallons^ makes the cost 
 a little more than a halfpenny. 
 
 But here we are on the third floor_, and as the room 
 stops level with the landing, the head chambermaid, 
 who has been spoken with through the gutta-percha 
 tube from the bar below — or bureau de reception,^^ 
 as our Parisian friends have it — meets us and conducts 
 us to the apartment assigned to us. As in the Parisian 
 hotels, there is a service to which is attached a head 
 chambermaid and two subordinates, neatly dressed in 
 black stuff with white aprons. 
 
 The ^^service^^ here is not the gossiping, lounging 
 room of the Louvre, in which the male attendant 
 receives the keys, and dispenses bad cigars to the 
 little company on his particular Stage, We know the 
 obvious limits of service which Nature draws between 
 men and women. Men do not make the beds, and 
 women do not act as porters. The room of the head 
 chambermaid is used simply as a station to receive 
 orders and to take the keys of the guests. 
 
 One is astonished abroad to find the keys of every 
 guest hanging in the hall of the hotel on a black board 
 opposite the number of his bedroom ; and one is more 
 astonished to find that the clumsy, ill-wrought keys 
 are all alike, and that it is the easiest thing possible 
 either to take your neighbours key when he is out — 
 and you may be certain he is out by the fact of his 
 key being on the peg, — or else to use your own key to 
 enter any apartment whose lock it will fit. 
 
THE NEW HOTEL SYSTEM. 
 
 87 
 
 When the Grosvenor was opened the foreign system 
 was adopted^ in so far as hanging the keys openly in 
 the service/^ and the result was that different rooms 
 were entered and robbed^ by the facilities thus given^ 
 to the extent of £500. If this had gone on it would 
 have ruined the hotel. Mr. Hobbs was therefore 
 called in^ the doors were altered so as to open from 
 the inside only by the handle^ and from the outside by 
 the patent key ; consequently^, if a guest should leave 
 his key on the mantelpiece^ and slam the door behind 
 him_, the master-key of the manager would be his only 
 means of obtaining ingress. If he took his key he 
 would leave it at the service^ not open^ as abroad^ 
 but in a frame specially fitted up to receive it, and 
 fastened with a patent lock, the key of which is 
 retained in the possession of the head chambermaid. 
 By this arrangement surreptitious entry into any 
 guest^s room is impossible, and since its adoption 
 robberies have altogether ceased. 
 
 It is unnecessary to describe the bedrooms, all of 
 which are lofty. We may go so far as to say they 
 differ as widely from the old bedroom of the British 
 hotel as these did from the sleeping-room of a well- 
 ordered private house of the best class. In addition 
 to the usual conveniences, 120 of the sleeping-rooms 
 have private closets. Those only who have experienced 
 the indescribable odour of those apartments in the 
 immediate vicinity of the said closets^ in the very best 
 hotels in Paris, will be able to appreciate the merit of 
 this arrangement. 
 
 There are private suites of rooms on the different 
 
88 
 
 THE NEW HOTEL SYSTEM. 
 
 floors for families ; and as no great hotel should be 
 without its facilities for wedding-breakfasts, the 
 Grosvenor boasts a resplendent range of chambers 
 fitted for the especial service of Hymen. 
 
 The ground floor is devoted wholly to the public 
 rooms ; the dining-room is perhaps one of the most 
 cheerful apartments in London. Unlike the dark 
 salle-a-manger of the Louvre, which is lit by a 
 borrowed light from the interior, its windows look out 
 upon the stream of life for ever flowing to and from 
 the Victoria Station. No attempt has been made 
 to introduce the table d’hote dinner, as it has been 
 proved over and over again that it is not suited to the 
 tastes of Englishmen. Your Briton has no objection 
 to make one of the three or four hundred guests who 
 quiz each other in foreign hotels, or even at English 
 watering-places; but we decline to depart from our 
 habits of reserve in our own great cities. If any 
 person could have successfully established a table 
 d’hote dinner in London, Mr. Verey was the man; 
 but he made the attempt, and failed, some years ago, 
 and it has never been tried a second time, at least for 
 the delectation of first-class Englishmen. Since the 
 breaking up of the pew system, if we may so term the 
 high boxes which of old partitioned guests from each 
 other, isolated tables to hold four persons seem to be 
 the fashion, and these at the dinner-hour are generally 
 well filled with guests, attracted by the very good 
 cooking and the admirable manner in which the table 
 and dinner is served. 
 
 It is certainly an innovation in hotel charges to be 
 
THE NEW HOTEL SYSTEM. 
 
 89 
 
 able to obtain a really good dinner of soup^ fish^ and 
 joints^ with vegetables^ for four shillings^ and a dinner 
 from the joints with vegetables^ for three shillings. 
 
 The lift^ which communicates with every sitting- 
 room as high as the third story from the kitchen^ 
 distributes each meal all over the house ^^hot.-’^ 
 
 The smoking-room is a magnificent apartment^ 
 thoroughly ventilated. The ladies are taken care of as 
 well as the men. They have a private room devoted 
 exclusively to themselves and opening into the 
 library^ well stored with books and periodicals^ which 
 is appropriated to the guests resident in the house. 
 It will be seen that this new style of hotels of which 
 the Grrosvenor is the exemplar_, is arranged more like 
 the apartments in a private mansion than the ordinary 
 inns we have been accustomed to_, where the coffee- 
 room, at best, contains a Post-office Directory, or 
 perhaps a local guide-book — the newspaper always 
 being engaged by ^Hhe gentleman upstairs.^^ 
 
 But the chief points of interest in the hotel are to 
 be sought in the basement. Here, in the spacious 
 offices underground, the real agencies by which the 
 great household above is provided for, lie hidden from 
 the general eye. It is a small town we traverse, 
 rather than .mere domestic offices. 
 
 For instance, under the road, and opening into the 
 spacious area, we notice the bakehouse. All those 
 delicate rolls which furnish the dinner-table are made 
 on the premises ; and, as we pass, the white-capped 
 baker is seen busy with his peel, getting ready the 
 bread fresh and fresh for the day^s meal. In the next 
 
90 
 
 THE NEW HOTEL SYSTEM. 
 
 arch we see the fish-store — it is a veritable fish- 
 monger's shop^ bright with scarlet lobster^ glistening 
 with silver salmon^ and tinted with the delicate hues 
 of the red mullet_, all ranged on the ice-cold slabs. In 
 the next compartment is the ice-house^ with its 
 refrigerators^ the grand conservatory of perishable 
 delicacies in the dog-days. Some little distance oflP^ 
 water in its liquid condition is to be found. Boilers 
 under the roadway circulate hot water over the entire 
 house; within the distance of twenty yards we pass 
 from the Tropics to the Pole^ and witness the arrange- 
 ments for dispensing either refreshing cold or life- 
 restoring warmth to the population above. 
 
 In the basement of the establishment are to be 
 found the usual offices^ but so magnified in their 
 dimensions as to be scarce recognizable. For instance^ 
 here is the den of Boots but this renowned indivi- 
 duab like our Lord High Admiral^ has been put in 
 
 commission/^ and his duties are now performed by a 
 committee of six. 
 
 Then the washing-room is passed — a large apart- 
 ment presided over by an active little lady who passes 
 her entire life amid large mounds of soiled linen^ which 
 are ever rising and falling around her like the foam- 
 crested waves of a chopping sea. Curious to see the 
 daily items which composed the mass^ we furtively 
 glanced at the Washing-list — a document almost as 
 big as a parish-register^ — and ^^500 towels/^ ^^150 
 sheets/^ ^^57 tablecloths/i’ at once informed us of the 
 scale on which things are done at the Grosvenor. 
 
 Then there is the plate-room. The amount of plate 
 
THE NEW HOTEL SYSTEM. 
 
 91 
 
 used by tbe hotel may be estimated when we say that 
 four men are exclusively employed in keeping it clean. 
 Eegiments of tea-pots^ officered by tea-urns^ were 
 being examined as critically as a company of soldiers 
 by their inspecting general; and what shall we say 
 of the tea-spoons but that their name is legion ? The 
 glass-room is presided over by a solitary hermit^ who 
 divides his time between a clever exercise of the 
 muscles of the wrist in rinsing the articles under 
 operation^ and a professional cock of the eye in taking 
 stock of its cleanliness : imagine_, good reader^ having 
 to do this without intermission from yearns end to 
 yearns end ! 
 
 The still-room of a large hotels when in full 
 operation^ is perhaps the most bustling apartment 
 in the house : its name^ therefore^ is a complete mis- 
 nomer. Here all the current articles of food are 
 served out. There are drawers full of tea^ sugar^ 
 and the thousand and one odd things required at 
 the breakfast and dinner table. A waiter brings a 
 cheque for a certain amount of tea^ say a small tea- 
 cupful^ which is considered enough for one^ and this 
 he pays for himself at the bar — sometimes with a bone 
 counter ; these cheques or counters are filed by the 
 retailer^ and are made to tally with the amount she 
 draws from the store. The store or general shop 
 of the establishment is presided over by the wife 
 of the Manager^ who issues what is wanted for the 
 day^s consumption early in the morning to the heads 
 of the different departments. 
 
 In the store-room^ the diversity of articles is 
 
92 
 
 THE NEW HOTEL SYSTEM. 
 
 extraordinary : there is a chest of cigars^ for example^ 
 and not far off a hogshead of sugar^ or a chest of 
 tea ; mops^ brushes,, packets of black-lead^ house- 
 cloths^ are stored away on shelves with neatness and 
 regularity. It is a rule of the establishment that a 
 certain article is to last a certain time^ and when it 
 is worn out it must be brought back to the store to be 
 exchanged for a new one. All these debris are imme- 
 diately chopped up and destroyed^ so that there can be 
 no possibility of putting them into circulation again. 
 Stock is taken of the stores once a month. Thus^ 
 as far as possible^ waste and theft,, those fruitful 
 sources of bankruptcy in ill-managed hotels,, are pro- 
 vided against. 
 
 The food departments are extensive and exceedingly 
 well managed. The butchery is,, in fact^ a butcher^s 
 shop,, with this exception^ — that every article is pre- 
 pared for the spit at a mementos notice. The fowls 
 are trussed ; the cutlets are trimmed and bread- 
 crummed; the ham and bacon are prepared over- 
 night for the morning meal; the quails have their 
 aprons of bacon-fat properly fastened on,, and con- 
 stant forethought is exercised for the advent of the 
 irascible traveller who wants an elephant steak in 
 five minutes from the time of ordering it^ and keeps 
 on ringing the bell until it is served. The larder 
 is calculated to feed the mouths of Gargantua. The 
 kitchen of the Grosvenor reminds us of that at the 
 Reform Club — all the same excellent arrangements^ 
 the same labour-saving appliances^ in order to accom- 
 modate large numbers at the shortest notice. The 
 
THE NEW HOTEL SYSTEM. 
 
 93 
 
 chef do cuisine, or head cook^ as he better likes to 
 be called^ is a renowned man in his way^ and certainly 
 knows how to serve up a good dinner. 
 
 The service of this large establishment is conducted 
 by thirty men and sixty-five women^ the women all 
 dressed in a simple black and white dress^ — a good 
 hint this_, taken from our French neighbours^ who 
 insist upon a class dress for domestics. In all matters 
 of detail the very best habits of the private gentleman^ s 
 house are carried out in this splendid establishment ; 
 consequently the traveller may find all the comforts 
 of home^ combined with advantages which only a very 
 large establishment can command. 
 
 We cannot help thinking the size of the Grosvenor 
 is a happy medium ; less than such leviathan houses as 
 the Louvre or the Hotel Grand^ or Astor House,, New 
 York^ it is not so large as to bewilder the guesL or 
 to swallow up his individuality amid the mob located 
 under the same roof ; and yet it is large enough to 
 contain within itself every necessary accommodation. 
 It is not like Astor House — a mere collection of 
 private apartments^ inhabited by private families,, 
 covered by one roof j neither is it a gigantic 
 restaurant, with bedrooms which are made to do 
 duty as sitting-rooms^ like the grand piles built by 
 the Credit Mobilier; — but it is a thoroughly English 
 hotels in which the family of distinction may find a 
 princely home,, or the single traveller^ studying 
 economy, may get a good bedroom for two shil- 
 lings, the use of the splendid library for the mere 
 price of the service, a breakfast for half-a-crown. 
 
94 
 
 THE NEW HOTEL SYSTEM. 
 
 and as good a dinner of three courses as he could 
 desire for five shillings_, or for three if he wishes 
 to dine economically. It is everybody's palace. 
 
 Let it no longer be said that the seed sown in 
 the Times has borne no fruity or that the hotels of 
 the British metropolis are the dearest and worst in 
 Europe. On the contrary^ it has been clearly shown 
 that a guest can live as cheaply in this grand hotel 
 as in many of the second-rate hotels abroad^ and 
 certainly far more economically than our fathers used 
 to do in the stuffy White Harts and White 
 Lions of their day^ with their slipshod^ flat-footed_, 
 greasy waiters^ their buggy four-posters^ their splendid 
 variety of A steak^ sir^ or a chop^ sir/^ or perhaps 
 a ^ biled ^ fowl^ sir/*^ which inevitably composed 
 the whole repertory of the cuisine^ and with their 
 beggarly servants who fleeced you in droves on your 
 departure^ never expecting or hoping to see you 
 again. 
 
THE “TIMES” NEWSPAPER OF 1798. 
 
 There lies before us one of the most eventful pages 
 of that eventful year^ in the shape of the Times 
 newspaper^ of October 3^ 1798^ reprinted from the 
 original. The Times of that date^ compared with its 
 present size^ was a veritable infant — not much bigger^ 
 when spread open^ than a lady^s pocket-handkerchief 
 — but within its little face we see clearly its present 
 features in embryo. 
 
 The Americans^ with that self-consciousness which 
 is so characteristic of the nation^ are for ever making 
 history/^ and fidgeting themselves as to how they 
 shall look in the pages of some future Bancroft. 
 What a contrast to the dull Englishman of 1798^ who 
 ^^made history/^ especially in that year^ without being 
 at all aware of the dignity of his occupation. Let us 
 turn over our Times, for example^ and the first thing 
 that strikes our attention is the account of Lord 
 Nelson^s Victory of the Nile. Our admirals then 
 did their fighting better than their writing— a feature 
 which some seamen of a later date seem to have 
 reversed. The total annihilation of an enemy^s fieet 
 is narrated by our hero in fewer words than a Yankee 
 
96 
 
 THE TIMES NEWSPAPER OE 1798. 
 
 commander would detail the robbing of a hen-roost. 
 Of the French fleet of seventeen line-of-battle ships 
 only four managed to escape. They struck hard and 
 heavy in those days without much boasting. In 
 another part of the paper we have a glimpse of the 
 rebellion in Ireland^ a sighting of the Plymouth 
 squadron sent under Sir Borlase Warren to intercept 
 the Brest fleet which was sailing to reinforce the Irish 
 rebels. 
 
 We see the working of the dogs of war in a far 
 more vivid manner in these contemporary pages than 
 in those of after-history. The Anson frigate sails so 
 near the Hoche (French admiraks ship)^ that they can 
 see on board the whites of the eyes of the marines/^ 
 with whom she is so crowded as to cause her to sail 
 badly. From Ireland^ again^ we have tidings of Major- 
 General Trenches defeat of the rebels^ with great 
 slaughter/^ in the neighbourhood of Killaloe ; and 
 there is a charming picture drawn of the French 
 commandant of the town^ cooped up with his officers 
 in the Bishop^ s Palace^ with that dignitary himself 
 armed to the teeth against the very rebels he had 
 come to succour. Then there are the paragraphs of 
 courts-martial^ in which it is thought sufficient to say 
 ^^some have been hanged, and various punishments 
 have been inflicted on others.'’^ Little paragraphs 
 hint at the social condition of the period, and show 
 what a robust habit the public had of expressing 
 their opinions; everywhere physical force was in the 
 ascendant. 
 
 A singular example of the license which roughs 
 
THE “times” NEWSPAPEE IN 1798. 97 
 
 were allowed in those days is given in a paragraph 
 which states that a mob on the previous evening 
 gathered round the entrance of the Admiralty in 
 honour of the great victory ; and adds : — 
 
 They insisted on every person of genteel appearance pulling off 
 their hats [sic]. Six officers passing along were ordered to the 
 same compliment to the mobility, and, refusing to do so, the 
 populace attempted to force their hats off. The officers drew their 
 swords, and it is said that some persons were wounded. 
 
 This reads like a scene in a pantomime^ or like 
 some of those little Austrian or Prussian affairs tve 
 used to hear of, in which the supreme contempt of 
 the military for civilians and the civil law was so 
 conspicuous. Imagine half-a-dozen officers of the 
 guard showing fight with their falchions to rouslis 
 now-a-days ! Public opinion in those times of for- 
 bidden utterance through the press, generally found 
 means to express itself in these rougli and terrible 
 scenes; and they were blunt of speech also in the 
 most “genteel places.” For instance, there appeared 
 to have been an unusual amount of cat-calling and 
 abuse of the musicians at Drury Lane that night, 
 because having been wearied with playing “Rule 
 Britannia” and “God save the King,” they would 
 not listen to a boisterous cry on the part of some 
 individual for “Britons, strike home,” a demand which 
 was silenced by some one singing out in the gallery, 
 “Why, damn it, they have, haven't they?” The 
 iecording of such little episodes as these is strikingly 
 illustrative of the strong stomachs which our ancestors 
 had for forcible language. The reader cannot get 
 
 H 
 
98 
 
 THE TIMES NEWSPAPEE IN 1798. 
 
 far clown a column without coming in contact with 
 specimens of the violence of that age. We are 
 told that — 
 
 John Hanning, the seaman who killed one of the pressgang at 
 Newhaven, was discovered hanging in his cell this morning, — 
 
 a hint at a double death caused by the working of 
 the infamous pressgang law. The poor fellow was 
 further followed by the vindictive usages of the times ; 
 for we are told that he was buried in the evenings in 
 the cross-roads near St. PauTs^ but that the stake com- 
 monly used on such occasions was dispensed with. 
 The highwayman and footpad it is evident were then 
 in full fashion ; for there are no less than three high- 
 way robberies recorded as having happened on the 
 previous day. Mr. Vernon^ of the Treasury^ and 
 another gentleman^ travelling in a postchaise^ were 
 stopped near Merton by two footpads^ and were 
 robbed of all their valuables. It does seem rather 
 strange that three men — for there must have been a 
 postilion — should have so quietly given in^ to two 
 rascals on foot. Lieutenant Miller of the Horse- 
 Guards was stopped by two highwaymen_,^^ and 
 
 Mr. Couvoisier^ one of her Majesty^s messengers^ 
 at Maidenhead/^ in the same manner. 
 
 An affair of honour is not wanting in this number 
 of the paper to make the manners of the times perfect^ 
 for we are informed that one came off between Cap- 
 tain H and Colonel A ^ on account of a 
 
 supposed injury in Ireland; and there is a forcible 
 abduction^ too^ of a Miss Mitchell^ by a gentleman in 
 
THE TIMES NEWSPAPEE IN 1798. 
 
 99 
 
 the comity of Cork^ which really reads like a case we 
 heard of only a few years ago. 
 
 We have a hint^ too^ of a project on foot which 
 has since been realized — namely^ a tunnel under the 
 Thames ; but^ in this instance^ between Gravesend 
 and Tilbury. There appears to have been just the 
 same style of glorifying the spirit of progress in 
 those days as there is now^ for we hear that — 
 
 Among the wonders of the present day, Mrs. Siddons’s late 
 achievements at Brighton, Bath, and London should not be 
 forgotten. She positively performed at each of these places within 
 the incredibly short space of ninety-six hours. 
 
 Pour days and nights ! Not so bad by PalmePs 
 mail j but how flat and slow seem the wonders of one 
 age to that which follows ! How near the chit-chat of 
 a newspaper brings you to past events^ — you can^t 
 help feeling yom^self a contemporary. What life and 
 movement; what petty details^ all of which^ however^ 
 are necessary to fill up the picture of the time_, and 
 to clothe the bones which History picks so bare. It 
 seems as though we were talking to our grandfather 
 when we read of John Kemble as Zanga^ in The 
 Revenge/^ finely marking the subtle and ma- 
 lignant spirit of vengeance of the Moor ; and one 
 almost feels inclined to indorse the extravagant 
 opinion of our grandpapas with respect to the 
 grandiose actors in the stilted dismal plays of 
 that day. 
 
 Mrs. Powell did not disdain the unimportant 
 character of Leonora : a bright face like hers would 
 indeed have lighted up any character. We wish some 
 
 H 2 
 
100 
 
 THE TIMES NEWSPxiPER IH 1798. 
 
 of tlie actresses of the present day would emulate her 
 disinterestedness. 
 
 The two great political figures of the period make 
 their appearance in several parts of the paper. Mr. 
 Fox^, we are told by the Opposition papers^ does not 
 mean to attend his duties in Parliament during the 
 ensuing session/^ whereupon we have the editorial 
 remark — the Times in those days was no namby- 
 pamby Conservative^ but downright Tory — 
 
 However greatly the talents of this gentleman may he rated, 
 the want of his counsel has not proved detrimental to the public 
 service. 
 
 The Foxites^ however^ understood the sneer^ and 
 estimated it at its true value^ for on turning to the 
 advertising column we find that the anniversary of 
 Mr. Fox^s first election for Westminster will be held 
 at the Shakespere Tavern. The Honourable C. J. Fox 
 in the chair. Where Avas the Shakespere Tavern 
 situated? We see that the dinner tickets were only 
 eight shillings^ although dukes and earls were to 
 partake of it; and the time was four o^ clock. We 
 have the authority of the editor^ that_, on October 2nd^ 
 1798_, Mr. Pitt was not laid up in flannel Avith the 
 gout_, as it had been reported^ for — 
 
 We saAv him yesterday in the Parh in perfect [.s'^c] good health. 
 
 Even in the little paragraphs, the we/^ it Avill be 
 seen^ is retained^, giving us a notion that even such 
 scraps in those days were picked up by the editor 
 himself instead of by penny-a-liners as now. In the 
 gigantic Thunderer^^ of to-day^ Avith its abstract 
 
THE TIMES NEWSPAPER IN 1798. 
 
 101 
 
 editor^ we lose those little personal touches which 
 bring ns face to face with the demi-god that launched 
 the dread bolts in those times. 
 
 As we write^ the paper-boy comes for the Timcs^ 
 from which v^e have extracted a good pennyworth this 
 morning, and we see- him collecting his papers at 
 door after door all the way up the street. What a 
 comment this upon a little paragraph in the Times of 
 October, 1798, to the following effect : — 
 
 The keepers of several reading-rooms in Fleet Street have been 
 fined £d for lending newspapers for hire. 
 
 What meddlesome stumbling-blocks were placed in 
 those days in the path of the poor politician ! 
 
 YV hilst the Emperor of Germany was deciding 
 his politics in the face of the French Directory, and 
 the Grand Signior — what old-world titles these ! — 
 was acting with decision and vigour,^*^ poor old 
 George III. was at Weymouth, recruiting his poor 
 shattered brain ; and certainly the Court levelled itself 
 to the meanest capacity in its amusements, if we 
 may judge from the programme of the fete at Maiden 
 Castle, near Dorchester, on. the anniversary of the 
 birthday of the Duchess of YvMrtemberg, which runs 
 as follows : — 
 
 To be played for at cricket, a round of beef— each man of the 
 winning set to have a riband. 
 
 A cheese to be rolled down the hill — prize to wdioever stops it. 
 
 A silver cup to be run for by ponies, the best of three heats, 
 
 A pound of tobacco to be grinned for. 
 
 A barrel of beer to be rolled down the hill- -a ])rize to whoever 
 stops it. 
 
102 THE TIMES NEWSPAPER IN 1798. 
 
 A Michaelmas goose to be dived for. 
 
 A good hat to be cudgelled for. 
 
 Half-a-guinea for the best ass in three heats. 
 
 A handsome hat for the boy most expert in catching a roll dipped 
 in treacle and suspended by a string. 
 
 A leg of mutton and a gallon of porter to the winner of a race of 
 100 yards in sacks. 
 
 A good hat to be wrestled for. 
 
 Half-a-guinea to the rider of an ass who wins the best of three 
 heats by coming in last. 
 
 A pig — prize to whoever catches him by the tail. 
 
 This was the age of Chloes and Phyllises^ of Damons 
 and Corydons^ when shepherds piped to their shep- 
 herdesses on Dresden-china tea-cnps^ and made love 
 in the tender verses of noble poets. We see what the 
 amusements of the country people were^ and how they 
 attracted royalty. 
 
 If we turn to the advertisements — the glory of the 
 
 leading journal of the present day — we see on what 
 slight beginnings its present prosperity was built. 
 The first page^ as at present_, and half of the last page 
 contained then about as many as would go into one 
 full column of the present journal. The nature of the 
 advertisements of the last century differed but very 
 little from those of the present day. Elegant 
 villas and desirable mansions were advertised to 
 let in much the same style as they are to-day. Even 
 the public auction-rooms were the same : there was 
 
 Grarraway^s in the city and Christie^s in Pall 
 Mall. Patent medicines cured all diseases as at 
 present^ and Di*. Jameses Powder was even then 
 sold at Newberry^s in St. Pauhs Churchyard.^^ 
 
 There are some noteworthy things_, however^ even 
 
THE TIMES NEWSPAPER IN 1798. 103 
 
 among the advertisements. For instance^ we see that 
 a live male elephant and 1^095 elephant^s teeth are to 
 be sold at Grarraway^s by the candle.^^ This hints at 
 a custom which dates from the time of Queen Anne^ 
 and was conducted this wise : a very small piece of 
 candle was lit_, and the biddings proceeded until it 
 went out^ the last bidder before which event took 
 place claiming the lot. The intense anxiety existing 
 whilst the flicker of the mould or the dip was at the 
 last gasp induced much competition among the 
 bidders^ but it could hardly have been so satisfactory 
 and decisive a method of sale as the sharp rap of 
 the hammer. 
 
 There is something very illustrative of the times in 
 the advertisement of ^‘‘Miss RutteFs Boarding School/^ 
 in which much stress is laid upon the instruction given 
 in useful and ornamental needlework. We have 
 seen the results of this careful training in the faded 
 old sampler-work framed in our grandmothers^ houses. 
 But Miss Rutter^ s pupils were indoctrinated into the 
 useful as well as the ornamental_, for we And there 
 was a Mr. Rutter^ who offers the inestimable advan- 
 tages to the young ladies of the indispensable graces 
 of domestic economy^ and a thorough knowledge in 
 writing and arithmetic.^'’ Possibly if the present 
 generation of young ladies were to think a little 
 more of these things^ and less of a smattering in 
 half-a-dozen languages^ it would be better^ especially 
 for those bachelors who wish to know How to live 
 on two hundred a year.^^ But the question arises^ 
 what has become of all those young misses of Miss 
 
104 THE TIMES NEWSPAPEE IN 1798. 
 
 Eutter^s academy^, of Morden Lane^ Surrey ? Is there 
 an old lady in a mob-cap still living who can converse 
 of the times of her youth ? or are they all gone^ the 
 old familiar faces whose sayings and doings^ goings 
 and comings^ are chronicled in this fragile, old, old 
 paper, which seems to smile upon us with a smile of 
 perpetual youth ? 
 
THE KESTOMTION OF OUE SOIL 
 
 The Leading Journal startled its readers the other 
 day by stating^ on the authority of some great names 
 in the domain of Chemistry^ that the vegetable mould 
 of Europe was gradually becoming exhausted — that 
 our system of farming was^ in facL drying up the 
 source of our daily bread ; and that our over- stimulated 
 fields required to revert to their primal condition of 
 vfood^ and forest^ and bog^ to bring them back to a 
 wholesome state of fertility. This was tantamount 
 to saying that civilization was at an end^ and that we 
 must look up our old books of costume to see how we 
 should appear once more tatooed in woad and draped 
 with skins. 
 
 We do not happen to know whether Dr. Gumming 
 has attempted to improve the occasion^ by launching 
 forth another of his prophetic visions — possibly noL 
 as the evidence tends to show that man must begin 
 afresh^ instead of finally closing his account with 
 Nature : be that as it may^ the statement was some- 
 what calculated to attract • attentioiL and one not in 
 the usual run of penny-a-lining. 
 
 Fortunately^ it happened that not long before this 
 
lOG 
 
 THE RESTOEATION OE OUE SOIL. 
 
 communication was made to the Times ^ the Queen’s 
 printers were issuing what we venture to predict will 
 prove one of the most important Blue Books ever 
 published — to wit^ the Second Report of the Select 
 Committee on Sewage of Towns. It must have 
 struck every thinking mind with wonder_, that while 
 our farmers were depending upon the refuse of flocks 
 of birds in the islands of the South Paciflc_, and upon 
 the bleaching bones gathered from distant battle- 
 fields^ the refuse of man himself lay decomposing 
 beneath his feet in great cities^ and giving forth 
 exhalations which poisoned him in his own household. 
 
 Surely/^ the reflecting man must have said^ the 
 excreta of birds which feed upon a limited range of 
 food cannot be so rich in manurial qualities as that of 
 the human race^ within whose alimentary range all 
 the edible products of earth are brought.'’^ The 
 thought was so simple^ and withal so true^ that he felt 
 almost inclined to place it among the class of grand 
 principles which are very well to enunciate^ but which 
 are difficult to reduce to practice. 
 
 At all events^ for years the public mind has done 
 little more than dwell upon the problem^ whilst those 
 interested in our imported and manufactured manures 
 have been active in throwing discredit upon the 
 idea^ and have been equally active in despatching 
 fleets to the other side of the globe to fetch guano^ 
 and factories have been arising on every hand to mix 
 composts infinitely inferior to that mixed for us in our 
 house-drains^ which Lord Palmerston has truly desig- 
 nated as only matter in the wrong place. Whilst 
 
THE EESTOEATION OF OUE SOIL. 107 
 
 vested interests^ however^ liave to a certain extent 
 smothered the general idea floating in the public 
 mind^ and while indeed some public experiments^ 
 such as those at Rugby and Croydon^ conducted on 
 false principles^ tended to discourage the belief in the 
 new-found treasure^ the efforts of individual minds 
 have restored the problem to its original position. 
 
 With Englishmen an ounce of fact is worth a ton 
 of theory ; and when men began to see^ here and there 
 throughout the island^ fields producing four and five 
 crops of grass a year of astounding weight and 
 quality^ and when the land itself became quadrupled 
 in value^ it was natural to inquire how the thing 
 was done. 
 
 Inquiry once stimulated^ the battle was won ; and 
 now that a Parliamentary Committee have reported 
 highly favourably of *the agricultural value of the 
 excreta of man in great cities_, we think we may 
 safely predict that in England^, at all events_, the time 
 is near at hand when we shall no longer trouble the 
 booby and other sea-fowl in the South Pacific Ocean. 
 
 It is certainly a most remarkable fact_, that when 
 we have to announce any new discovery^ or to refer to 
 any ancient one which has greatly affected mankind^ 
 we have to acknowledge the Chinese as the earliest 
 originators. Printings gunpowder^ the mariner^ s 
 compass^ and half-a-dozen other great inventions^ 
 were well known in the Flowery Land long before this 
 island had emerged from barbarism. But it seems 
 stranger still to add that the simple expedient by 
 which one of the largest empires — counting upwards 
 
108 
 
 THE RESTOEATIOH OF OUR SOIL. 
 
 of 400^000^000 inliabitants — possesses, and lias pos- 
 sessed for liundreds of generations, the most produc- 
 tive soil in the world, should only just now be known 
 amongst our sharper-witted farmers. 
 
 If, according to a new theory, a slow exhaustion of 
 the vegetable mould were really going on, we ought 
 certainly to look to China for the strongest evidence 
 of the fact ; but Mother Barth is as strong there, 
 possibly stronger, than she has been for a couple of 
 thousand years ; and the secret of this eternal vigour 
 lies in this, — that the inhabitants never fail to return to 
 the soil those materials that they have taken out of it. 
 
 Every morning the market gardener, who brings 
 the day^s supply of vegetables, takes away the sewage 
 of the house. It may not seem very savoury to our 
 ideas to find the produce and the producer thus 
 nakedly and perpetually brought into contact before 
 our eyes ; but it is in this rapid circulation of the ferti- 
 lizing agent that the whole secret of the wonderful 
 productions of that vast empire is based. The Western 
 nations build magnificent cities, which they under- 
 mine with a vast swamp of filth ; hence the plagues of 
 the Middle Ages, which, like sudden floods, depopu- 
 lated cities, and the slow fevers, which at the present 
 day make their constant lairs in our crowded courts 
 and alleys. 
 
 We have had constant intercourse with China for 
 upwards of a hundred years, but it is only lately 
 that travellers have made us acquainted with this 
 one great feature in their industrial life, which doubt- 
 less lies at the foundation of a civilization which 
 
THE RESTORATION OF OUR SOIL. 
 
 109 
 
 readies withont intermission long before the so-called 
 Historic period. 
 
 But we must not be surprised at our blindness to 
 foreign example^ when we find that we have equally 
 shut our eyes to an experiment that has been going 
 on for upwards of two hundred years in our ovm 
 island. When the advantage of sewage manure is 
 referred to^ the Craigintenny meadow's^ near Edin- 
 burgh^ are named as the exemplar. 
 
 At present there are upwards of two huncEed acres 
 irrigated with the flow of the sewage of about 80^000 
 of the population. This land receives the sewage 
 from the western part of the city^ and after flovr^ing 
 over the meadows it falls into the sea. Some portion 
 of this pasture^ being in fact little better than a pro- 
 longation of the sea-beach^ was originally ivorth five 
 shillings an acre — it is now worth :£30 an acre. This 
 transmutation of desert land into pasture_, off which 
 as many as five crops have been taken in a year^ 
 yielding on some extraordinary occasions upwards of 
 sixty tons per acre at one cuttings but averaging say 
 twenty-five tons^ is accomplished at an expense to the 
 proprietor of not more than one pound per acre for 
 the labour in irrigating. 
 
 This process is very simple : the sewage flows by 
 its own gravity over the whole surface^ not con- 
 tinuously^ but at certain seasons^ and in certain con- 
 ditions of the Italian rye-grass crops^ each acre 
 receiving about 9_,000 tons at each waterings which 
 takes place about ten or twelve times a year. 
 
 It must be admitted that the extraordinary success 
 
110 
 
 THE EESTOEATIOH OF OUE SOIL. 
 
 of these meadows is owing to the favourable lie of 
 the land^ which prevents the necessity for pumping 
 arrangements ; but there are scores of towns in 
 England as favourably situated as Edinburgh for 
 delivering their sewage at a mere nominal expense. 
 Yet this extraordinary example has been in some 
 unaccountable manner overlooked. 
 
 It is just possible that the vast amount of sewage 
 per acre here employed has tended to make agricul- 
 turists doubt the possibility of applying this kind of 
 manure profitably in other places. But there is no 
 necessity for these heavy dressings ; they are employed 
 on these meadows as a matter of necessity rather 
 than of choice^ for the sewage must be got rid of, 
 and this can only be done by passing it over the land 
 into the sea. 
 
 The great value of the present Report is the con- 
 clusion it comes to, that light dressings at infrequent 
 intervals succeed admirably. The importance of this 
 fact cannot be too highly estimated, for the whole 
 value of the sewage of towns, when it has to be 
 carried any distance, depends upon the cost of distri- 
 bution, especially in those cases where there is a 
 necessity for pumping, in order to raise it to a high 
 level, that it may flow by its own gravity to distant 
 parts. It must be evident that to distribute super- 
 fluous water is to clog the experiment with destructive 
 charges. How to get rid of this superfluous water, 
 which so deteriorates the value of town sewage, is 
 the great question of the day. Sir Joseph Paxton, 
 in his valuable evidence, believes the time wiU come 
 
THE EESTOEATION OF OUE SOIL. 
 
 Ill 
 
 when every house will have its hermetically- sealed 
 tank^ into which all the sewage proper of the house 
 will flow. The tank he would ventilate by carrying 
 a half-inch pipe from it up the chimney. That by 
 this means all the unpleasant odour would be got rid 
 of, he proves by the fact^ new perhaps to our readers, 
 that in this manner all the sewage of the Crystal 
 Palace now deposited in tanks at the end of the 
 south transept is ventilated through the pillars of the 
 building, without the slightest odour being discovered, 
 whilst the splendid bloom of the geraniums is the 
 result of the sewage itself. As to the method of 
 emptying these house-sewage tanks, he says : — 
 
 I can see a time, and I believe I could scheme it, if I could turn 
 my entire attention to it, by which you would have in your cellar a 
 glazed iron tank, and a small half-inch pipe running up the chimney, 
 for the ventilation of this tank ; and you would have a pipe going 
 to the outside, with a top screwed on, and a locomotive engine with 
 a large tank would go down your street, and they would hook on 
 this, and they would draw out in three minutes all that you had 
 got in the tank, without your even knowing anything about it, or 
 having the slightest possible smell in the house. 
 
 With all due deference to Sir Joseph Paxton, we 
 think it will be a very distant day before we shall 
 scent his odorous locomotive at our doors, for the 
 simple reason, that to employ a pump at every door, 
 whilst one pump in the suburbs would answer every 
 purpose, would be economically absurd. Sir Joseph, 
 however, was right in recognizing the fact that we 
 are destroying the sewage of our great towns by 
 mixing it in our underground culverts with the 
 rainfall. 
 
112 
 
 THE EESTORATION OF OUE SOIL. 
 
 To one of the members of the late Commission of 
 Sewers the credit is principally due of pointing out 
 this initial error^ whilst battling mamfully against Mr. 
 Bazalgette^s monstrous sewers^ so constructed as to 
 swamp the excreta of the town in the drainage of the 
 rainfall of metropolitan area^ which extends over fifty- 
 nine and a half square miles^ and pours into the 
 sewers from 80^000^000 to 90^000^000 of tons of water 
 annually — a scheme which threatens to starve the 
 river^ and undoubtedly spoils the excreta of 3^000^000 
 of people. As far as we can see^ there can be no 
 denying the truth of his formula : — 
 
 The whole of the rainfall is due to the river ; the ivholz of the 
 sewage to the soil.^ 
 
 This arrangement he proposed to carry out by main- 
 taining the then existing sewers for their original 
 purpose_, the carrying off the surface- drainage to the 
 river ; whilst the pipe-water^ enriched by the cleansing 
 of our dwellings^ he would collect in pipes^ carry out 
 of town^ and apply to the land. The millions that 
 have been spent in constructing the colossal system 
 of drainage now being laid down in the metropolis 
 may seem to preclude the introduction of this double 
 system^ and to destroy the possibility of saving the 
 untold wealth it is planned to throw into the sea ; but 
 it is just possible that the metropolitan sewage may 
 be intercepted at the mouth of each house-drain_, and 
 carried^ by means of earthenware pipes^ through the 
 
 Purification of the Thames a Letter by F. 0. Ward, Esq., 
 addressed to William Coningham, M.P. 
 
THE EESTORATION OP OUE SOIL. 
 
 118 
 
 great drains themselves. The house-sewage and the 
 refuse surface-water flowings like the vein and the 
 artery in the human body, in the same enveloping 
 sheath, — the one to afford splendid crops from ex- 
 hausted fields, the other to supply a full flow to the 
 Thames. 
 
 At all events, if such a scheme is impossible of 
 accomplishment, we trust that the much-vaunted 
 metropolitan drainage scheme will serve as an ex- 
 ample to be avoided, rather than follo^ved, by other 
 towns, now that the value of sewage not too much 
 diluted is placed beyond all dispute. 
 
 It certainly does seem extraordinary that in Eng- 
 land, where economy of carriage is so well under- 
 stood, persons should fall into the fatal mistake of 
 carrying that which can be made to carry itself. 
 Thus, at Manchester, upwards of 100,000 tons of 
 night-soil, mixed v/ith 36,000 tons of ashes — the 
 deodorizing agent used in that town — are taken away 
 annually by railroad into Yorkshire, Nottinghamshire, 
 and Lincolnshire, at a great expense, and in a very 
 objectionable form, for this solid manure is for ever 
 giving off its most valuable constituent, the ammonia. 
 But why trouble the wheels of the locomotive, when 
 an iron pipe, at a slight incline, will carry the sewage 
 in a far less objectionable manner ? Again, at Chatham, 
 the farmers, notwithstanding their familiarity with 
 the cheapness of hydraulic power, send to the town, 
 and buy the night-soil of the contractors, which the 
 latter carry for them in waggons. At Hyde, in Lanca- 
 shire, a company is formed for conveying the sewage 
 
 I 
 
114 
 
 THE EESTORATION OF OUE SOIL. 
 
 in a solid state^ and has erected spacious premises 
 for converting it into poudrette ^ — a process which 
 Nature has to undo before the manure is available for 
 the use of the plants as water is essential to carry 
 it to the roots. A fields however^ thickly dressed 
 with the best guano_, whether home-made or Peruvian^ 
 can only obtain the advantage of it after a shower of 
 rain_, without which^ indeed^ the plants would be 
 starved^ just as a man would be in the best-stocked 
 larder^ provided he were chained by the leg out of 
 reach of the tempting food hung around him. 
 
 These clumsy and needless methods of carrying and 
 manufacturing an article which is already manufactured 
 to hand in the best possible form^ are not only con- 
 clusive of the ignorance which obtains with respect 
 to the proper method of using it^ but of its inherent 
 worth. If town- sewage can be made a paying com- 
 modity after thus being converted into a manufactured 
 article^ how much more profit could be made out of 
 it by allowing it to flow immediately it is produced^ 
 when rich with all its volatile constituents^ from our 
 houses on to our fields. 
 
 After all^ the most convincing experiments are those 
 which we make ourselves ; and it luckily happens that 
 the means of applying our house-sewage to the soil 
 are at the disposal of any person having gardens or 
 pastures surrounding his own house. One of the most 
 conclusive experiments recorded in the evidence given 
 before the Select Committee on the Sewage of Towns 
 is that of Philip Skinner Miles^ Esq._, of King^s 
 Weston. 
 
THE RESTORATION OF OUR SOIL. 
 
 115 
 
 Every resident of Clifton and Bristol knows well the 
 mansion of this gentleman^ — an old gloomy house that 
 once belonged to the Lords de Clifford^ and built by 
 the cumbrous genius of Vanbrugh. This seat is one 
 of the show-places of Gloucestershire^ and the grounds 
 command one of the finest views in the kingdom. 
 Vanbrugh^ however^ lived in the days before house- 
 drainage was discovered^ and the result was that the 
 sewage of the mansion trickled down the side of the 
 road which led to it. This disgusting nuisance was 
 not only offensive to the sight, but in hot weather was 
 very offensive to the nose, and the work of drainage 
 became one of necessity. 
 
 Mr. Miles did not content himself with building 
 an expensive drain, but, following the lead of Mr. 
 Alderman Mechi, he determined to collect the sewage 
 of his house (containing thirty persons), together with 
 the rainfall, into a closed tank containing about 7,000 
 gallons, which he ventilated by a pipe running up the 
 chimney, which effectually took away all smell. 
 
 The sewage was conducted by pipes to about twelve 
 acres of grass and to two acres of ploughed land, and 
 distributed by means of a gutta-percha hose. The result 
 is that these fields have been improved in value from 
 55s, an acre to £5. 10^., whilst the produce has been 
 immensely increased : — two crops a year, so thick that 
 they cannot stand up, and the crop is always good if 
 the season be wet or dry. 
 
 This sewaged grass, moreover, comes in full a 
 month earlier than ordinary grass, thus giving that 
 
 early bite,-^^ the advantage of which all farmers so 
 I 2 
 
116 
 
 THE EESTOEATIOX OF OUE SOIL. 
 
 well know; moreover^ the herbage is full and thick to 
 the end of November. 
 
 The cattle are ravenous after the rich succulent 
 herbage thus produced^ and will eat it immediately the 
 dressing has been applied ; and Mr. Miles tells us that 
 the dairy-maids cannot account for the great increase 
 of the cream which has taken place since the 
 experiment has been in operation. 
 
 This seems very like a transformation-scene in 
 a pantomime^ rather than reality. The foul and 
 filthy lane^ at a fairy^s touchy becomes changed to a 
 smiling meadow ; the milkmaids are overpowered by 
 the flow of cream^ and the land is burthened with its 
 crops ; the stock gets rapidly fat^ and the turnips 
 grow so quickly as to get without the reach of 
 the fly*^^ 
 
 The good fairy and the appliances^ in this case^ 
 consist of an old man vfho can dress the whole of the 
 fields in the course of the day ; and the machinery is 
 comprised, in the tank^ a small conducting pipe^ and 
 a hydrant with a flexible gutta-percha hose. Well 
 might Lord Palmerston have remarked that sewage 
 was only matter in the wrong place.-^^ 
 
 What Mr. Miles has done any other person may 
 do likewise ; for the expenditure is but triflings and 
 the effect so great that it will ]3ay all outlay in the 
 course of two or three years. In this case it was 
 proved that the excreta of each person w^as equal to 
 the fertilization of half an acre of land. 
 
 For some little time jet, we look to the experiments 
 of individuals as the best means of propagating the 
 
THE EESTOEATIOH OF OUE SOIL. 
 
 117 
 
 idea ; for it will take a long time to convince muni- 
 cipal bodies that their sewage^, instead of being a 
 nuisance to be got rid of^ is a valuable commodity to 
 be dispensed. But more valuable stilly perhaps^ will 
 be the experiments of large institutions^ such as 
 county lunatic-asylums^ where the cultivation of land 
 is one of the means used to exercise and interest 
 the patients. 
 
 We are glad to find that the visiting magistrates 
 have already experimentalized in this direction^ both 
 at Colney Hatch and at Hayward^s Heath Asylum; 
 but the most satisfactory results have^ we thinks been 
 obtained by Mr. Westwood^ late farm-bailiff to the 
 schools at Anerly (the inmates of which are about 700) ; 
 and their value depends upon the fact that the experi- 
 ments were made by a gentleman who acted under 
 Government inspection^ and was obliged to render 
 exact accounts of his expenditure^ and that they have 
 a direct bearing ujion the very important question of 
 the best quantity of sewage to apply to the land. 
 
 Of the forty acres of land belonging to the school^ 
 four acres were under Italian rye-grass and twelve 
 acres were in very poor meadow : indeed^ the whole 
 estate was a stiff London clay^ very adverse to good 
 cultivation. A tank containing 12_,000 gallons of 
 sewage was erected to work this land. The rye-grass 
 of four acres was dressed by hose and jet six different 
 times in the year_, the whole amount being about 1_,500' 
 tons of sewage per acre ; and the produce of these four 
 acres fed 16 large dairy cows_, one bull^ and three or 
 four head of young stocky besides three farm-horses^ 
 
118 
 
 THE EESTOEATION OE OUE SOIL. 
 
 for the summer months_, or 180 days; each cow yield- 
 ing on an average throughout the year eight quarts of 
 milk per day. There was no perceptible difference in 
 the crop over the whole four acres,, all of it being as 
 thick as it was possible for grass to stand. Therefore^ 
 taking that part irrigated with the hose and jet as 
 keeping ten of the cows,, the produce could not have' 
 been less than seventy tons of green food to the acre 
 every season. I believe it is generally considered that 
 one of the large half-bred short-horn cows^ giving full 
 milk^ will eat at least H cwt. of green meat per day : 
 allowing 8d. per gallon for the milk thus produced^ it 
 would give £120 as the return from these two acres, 
 and, without deducting the expenses, 9d. per ton for 
 every ton of sewage used. 
 
 Assuming that this sewage had been delivered on 
 the farm by a company, and charged 2d. per ton, the 
 landlord or tenant having laid down the pipes on the 
 farm necessary for its distribution, the expenses would 
 stand as follows : — 1,500 tons of sewage per acre, at 
 2d. per ton, £25 ; one lad, distributing for twelve 
 days, 12^.; rent of two acres at 25^., £2. lOs. ; half 
 man^s time cutting grass, milking, &c., £7. 10s. ; part 
 time of horse and cart, carting grass to sheds, £3 ; 
 interest on cost and wear of pipes, hose, &c., 16s. : 
 making a total of £39. 8s., which deducted from 
 the £120 would leave £80. 12s. as the net profit 
 upon those two acres, supposing that no other deduc- 
 tions had to be made for keeping the stock in the 
 winter-time.^^ 
 
 When we hear a witness talk of producing seventy 
 
THE RESTOEATION OF OUR SOIL. 
 
 119 
 
 tons of green food per acre in one season_, it seems so 
 mucli like romancing^ that we have tliouglit it well to 
 give his own words^ and to state that_, in the opinion 
 of the Select Committee^ they are entitled to ^S^ery 
 great weight.^^ 
 
 It must be stated_, that of these four acres of rye- 
 grass two were allowed an unlimited amount of 
 sewage^ amounting to between 8^000 and 9^000 tons 
 per annum ; yet they did not yield a better result than 
 the other two acres dressed with only 1^500 tons of 
 sewage throughout the year^ givings in the words of 
 the Select Committee^ a most conclusive proof of the 
 uselessness of the enormous dressings recommended hy 
 some of the witnesses,’^ 
 
 And^ we may observe^, not only the uselessness 
 but the perniciousness of such superfluous dressings ; 
 for Mr. Westwood proves that the meadow grass^ 
 which was irrigated on the catch-water system at the 
 rate of 9^000 tons an acre^ threw its sewage off by the 
 drains almost unaltered in colour^ and so strong that 
 he thought it necessary to filter it before it flowed 
 away into the brook^ lest an action should be com- 
 menced against the Institution for polluting the public 
 watercourse. He found that the knobs of grass which 
 lay above the general level of the field flourished quite 
 as much as those that received the whole flow of the 
 sewage ; and he concludes that the dressings of 
 300 tons^ once in the Spring and once after cutting 
 the first crop^ would be equally effective with the 
 largest dressings. 
 
 The settlement of the question heavy versus light 
 
120 
 
 THE RESTORATION OF OUR SOIL. 
 
 dressings is of great importance for other reasons 
 besides the fertilization of the land. To say nothing 
 of the pumping expenses it will save^ there is the 
 question of keeping onr water-sources pure : a matter 
 Avhich cannot be insured if enormous quantities of 
 sewage were to be pumped on to the land^ to find its 
 way down in a polluted state to the springs. We do 
 not doubt that within certain limits the value of 
 sewage-manure dressings will depend upon the degree 
 of its dilution. A certain quantity of water is abso- 
 lutely necessary to carry the fertilizing particles to 
 the roots of the plants ; but what that precise quantity 
 is we have yet to find out. Owing to the ever- varying 
 amount of rainfall which is allowed to dilute it^ no 
 exact calculations can be made of its value : indeed^ 
 the excreta of each person are estimated by two 
 individuals in the report variously at Is. 9d. to £1 per 
 annum — a divergence which results from the absurd 
 practice of allowing the rainfall to mix with the house- 
 sewage^ which would otherwise be represented by a 
 tolerably invariable quantity to each inmate. 
 
 The evidence of Lord Essex^ who has used the 
 sewage manure extensively^ is to the effect that it is 
 applicable to all crops^ and that it may be applied 
 with advantage at all times of the year^ excepting 
 during hard frosts ; but that it is expedient that the 
 agriculturist should have the full command of the 
 sewage^ so that he may apply it when and in what 
 quantities he likes. This points to the system of 
 irrigation by pipes and hose and jet as the most 
 convenient method of distribution. 
 
THE EESTOKATION OF OUR SOIL. 
 
 121 
 
 Mr. Tufnell^ one of her Majesty^ s Inspectors of 
 Scliools^, who reports with respect to the rigid exacti- 
 tude of the experiments carried on at the Anerly 
 schools under his inspection^ states that he found the 
 second crop produced by the sewage vv^as far more 
 productive than the second crop produced by guano 
 — a statement which accords with the assertion of 
 all scientific agricultural chemists^ that while guano 
 and other manufactured manures exhaust the soil 
 by over- stimulation^ sewage manm’e permanently 
 improves it. 
 
 We trust this statement will restore confidence to 
 those who have been frightened by a letter in the 
 Times lamenting the exhaustion of our vegetable 
 mould under its guano treatment^ and also the 
 following remarks of the Committee^ which will 
 doubtless give a clue to the extraordinary evidence of 
 chemists and others interested in the sale of foreign 
 manures : — 
 
 If the sewage of our cities and towns were utilized to the best 
 advantage over suitable areas, it is evident that, as on the Court 
 farms, little or no imported manufactured manures would be used ; 
 this would greatly limit the area now supplied by such manures, 
 a,nd would therefore reduce the profits of all those engaged in the 
 importation, manufacture, or sale of manure. 
 
 When we know that we possess these treasures 
 which now lie festering beneath our feet_, the next 
 question is how to transfer them to land. As long 
 as it could not be proved to be a commodity that 
 farmers could afford to pay for, neither they nor the 
 ratepayers could be expected to have much interest in 
 
122 
 
 THE EESTORATION OF OUE SOIL. 
 
 the question ; but now we have conclusive proof that 
 the sewage of our towns is no longer a nuisance to be 
 got rid of but a commodity to be sold^ the whole 
 community must feel a lively interest in the manner in 
 which it is to be disposed of. 
 
 There can be no question that^ if municipal autho- 
 rities had the power to distribute the sewage over 
 large areas^ a very large reduction in the rates would 
 result from its sale ; but these powers are at present 
 wholly wanting_, and the fact is referred to by the 
 Committee as a stumbling-block in the way of a relief 
 to local taxation which has yet to be provided. 
 
 There seems to be a general impression that_, as far 
 as municipal experiments are concerned^, those towns 
 which lie high are sure of the most successful results^ 
 inasmuch as they possess the power of distributing 
 the sewage by gravitation^ thus getting rid of the cost 
 of the pumping expenses and the fixed machinery. 
 There are several such towns admirably situated. 
 Thus Launceston^, in Cornwall_, could command a flow 
 to at least 1^000_,000 acres^ from its high level; Mal- 
 vern^ again^ overlooks the valley of the Severn^ and 
 has a gentle fall to that river for miles. The best 
 portions of Bath are built upon the hills overlooking 
 the Avon ; and a very large population is located on 
 the hills on which Bristol is built^ much of the sewage 
 of which flows into the stagnant floating harbom"_, 
 rendering it one of the most unhealthy places in the 
 kingdom^ according to the returns of the Begistrar- 
 General. 
 
 In all these places^ and indeed in many towns where 
 
THE EESTOEATIOH OF OUE SOIL. 
 
 123 
 
 a flow of tlie sewage as small as 1 in 300 could be 
 obtained_, would be sufficient to command the agricul- 
 tural district in their neighbourhood. But there 
 is ample evidence to show that^ by the use of the 
 pump^ cities lying low in valleys or on the coast could 
 utilize their sewage with a profit. It has been pro- 
 posed that the experiment should be tried at Brighton^ 
 where many elements of success are to be found. The 
 drainage of this growing town is not yet accomplished. 
 This is a great feature^ inasmuch as a complete system, 
 of double drainage could be carried out — one that 
 would allow a flow of the rainfall to the sea; and 
 of the pipe water^ or house-refuse^ being gathered 
 by itself into some tank^ and thence pumped up in 
 its concentrated state to the surrounding estates 
 and farms. 
 
 We are told that 100 tons of sewage can be thus 
 lifted 100 feet for a penny. A hundred tons of 
 Brighton sewage undiluted with the rainfall would be 
 worth three or four times the value of the ordinary 
 mixed town-drainage ; and we are told that the noble 
 proprietors in the neighbourhood of the town would 
 be willing to receive it on their land. Lord Essex^ 
 for example^ would be too glad of it ; and we should 
 say that the ladies^ who now bathe in the sewage 
 which empties itself not far from the beach^ would be 
 equally glad of its absence — for here it is clearly 
 
 matter in the wrong place. 
 
 Lord Essex has given it in evidence that he applied 
 134 tons of sewage to two acres of wheats and that 
 on each he obtained an increase of produce worth 
 
124 
 
 THE EESTOEATION OF OUE SOIL. 
 
 £3. Is. 6d. over and above that of other iinsewaged 
 fields ; and this^ remember^ with the sewage diluted 
 with the rainfall. What his increase of produce 
 would have been if he had used it in its concentrated 
 state we scarce dare mention ; but we feel not the 
 slightest doubt that it would have been more than 
 amply sufficient to pay his lordship and others who 
 used it a sum sufficient to defray the plant and labour 
 of pumping^ and to go some way towards lowering 
 the local rates. 
 
 At all events^ we may feel quite certain that the 
 enormous value of the liquid refuse of our houses is 
 now ascertained beyond the slightest doubt ; and 
 there can be as little doubt^ we think^ that means 
 will speedily be found to transport it from towns 
 where it is a nuisance to fields where it will be a 
 benefit^ to the satisfaction of the tax-lightened rate- 
 payer^ the officer of healthy and the agriculturist ; 
 and if not_, we may reasonably ask the reason why 
 not^ as we are now spending annually many millions 
 of money to bring the inferior fertilizer^, guano^ many 
 thousands of miles to our fields. 
 
 Moreover^ we may say that we must have this ques- 
 tion answered at once^ for it will not admit of delay. 
 Agriculturists have been dreaming that the accu- 
 mulations of guano are inexhaustible^ and that 
 thousands of years will elapse before the stores 
 heaped on the islands off the coast of Peru will be 
 consumed. Mr. Markham^ however^ who has made 
 a careful estimate of the amount remaining in 1861_, 
 considered there was not more than 9^538^735 tons 
 
THE RESTORATION OE OUR SOIL. 
 
 125 
 
 remaining at that date_, which^ at the present rate 
 of consumption^ will only last until the year 1883. 
 
 Think of this_, ye farmers who pin your faith on 
 guano : in twenty years^ time^ if you do not manage 
 to utilize the sewage at your own doors^ the foreign 
 article will fail^ and the predicted exhaustion of the 
 vegetable mould of the country will really begin. 
 
 And have our agriculturists for a moment con- 
 sidered of what the home-made sewage manure 
 consists ? China manages to keep up the fertility 
 of her soil by simply returning to it the elements 
 that have been taken from it^ in the shape of the 
 excreta of the population; but it must be remem- 
 bered that we import as well as produce fruits of 
 the earthy and that our imports of food alone amount 
 annually to £75^000^000^ — in other words^ our own 
 home-made guano contains the fertilizing elements 
 not only of our own soil^ but of that of all countries 
 on the earthy from which we receive food into our 
 island to the yearly amount we have stated^ and the 
 whole of which is now allowed to run to waste. 
 
 We trusty in conclusion^, that our exhausted 
 vegetable moukP'’ will speedily give the lie to the 
 prognostications of the philosophical agricultural 
 chemists who have so frightened our landowners^ 
 and that the picture of England returning to its 
 aboriginal condition of marsh and forest only dwells 
 in their own too-vivid imagfinations. 
 
 O 
 
/ 
 
 THE HNDEE-SEA HAILEOAD. 
 
 Aftee a man has been tossed, as in a blanket, for 
 a couple of hours in one of the fast boats between 
 Dover and Calais, and after his mind and body have 
 slightly recovered from the steady survey of the 
 boiling sea his infirmities have compelled him to take, 
 he is not unlikely to read with avidity any scheme 
 which proposes to abolish those rough favours of 
 Neptune altogether, which generally forerun and ter- 
 minate his annual holiday abroad. Whilst we have 
 yet our sea-legs upon us, Mr. James Chalmers greets 
 us with a scheme for a Channel railway connecting 
 England and France. With a vivid recollection of 
 two hours of perfect misery, we can examine it with 
 a perfectly unprejudiced mind. 
 
 We must not be supposed, however, to imagine 
 that Mr. Chalmers is original in his idea, neither does 
 he say as much ; on the contrary, the persistence with 
 which projectors have schemed to link our tight httle 
 island to the Continent is urged by him as a sign 
 of the necessity that exists for its accomplishment. 
 His claim is, that he offers his method as the only 
 practicable one yet presented to the public ; and we 
 must say that, compared with the many visionary 
 
THE UNDER- SEA RAILROAD. 
 
 127 
 
 projects that would-be engineers have given forth^ 
 Mr. Chalmers^ seems simplicity itself. 
 
 Seven of these schemes have been put forth by 
 Frenchmen^ and five by Englishmen^ a proportion in 
 favour of our neighbours which possibly represents 
 their superior horrors of sea-sickness. Three French 
 projectors proposed tunnelling under the Channel ; 
 five English and two French proposed submerged 
 tubes ; a Frenchman proposes an arched railway or 
 tunnel on the bottom^ and an Englishman a mammoth 
 bridge. 
 
 Of these schemes^ that of the tunnel seems to 
 have been received with most favour. The Emperor 
 Napoleon — who seems to have a taste for solving geo- 
 graphical difficulties^ himself suggested a scheme for 
 severing the Isthmus of Darien^ and powerfully sup- 
 ports the canalization of the Isthmus of Suez — only 
 as late as 1857 received with no ordinary attention 
 a scheme of M. de Gamond to annex England to 
 France geographically by means of a tunnel. This 
 project was a reversal of the mole^s method of tunnel- 
 ling. He proposed to form thirteen islands in the 
 Channel^ by depositing therein immense mounds of 
 chalk and stones. Through these his project was to 
 drive shafts^ and^ when at a given levels to tunnel east 
 and west. The ostensible reason for the EmperoFs 
 abandonment of this scheme was the impediment 
 these islands would give to the navigation ; but we 
 fancy the real reason was that he could not afford 
 to throw money into the sea in so many directions 
 at the same time. 
 
128 
 
 THE UNDEE-SEA EAILROAD. 
 
 The projector of one of the schemes for a submerged 
 tube proposes to build it in one length on shore^ 
 and then to float it out to sea., and drop it at one 
 dash. Poor Brunei should have been alive^ to have 
 either witnessed or had a hand in this magnificent 
 engineering scheme^ which far surpassed any of his 
 own. Imagine the triumphant attitude of this engi- 
 neer_, wielding a tube only about twenty miles long, 
 and for the moment of submergence, at least, ruling 
 the waves between England and France ! His task 
 accomplished, however, poor travellers would not 
 have been much benefited, inasmuch as he proposes 
 to have the two ends of his tube made solid, and 
 entered from either shore by chain piers, or by a 
 small steamer ! 
 
 The enthusiastic gentleman who suggests the arched 
 roadway on the bottom of the strait proposes to con- 
 struct it by the agency of forty subaqueous boats, and 
 1,500 sailors and navvies — sub-aqueous also, of course. 
 The projector of the bridge would build 190 piers in 
 the Channel, 300 feet square at the bottom, rising to 
 150 feet square at the level of the sea. On these 
 pedestals he would build towers, 100 feet in diameter, 
 260 feet high; connecting his chain of towers with 
 a tubular bridge far above the topmost truck of our 
 tallest admiral.^^ When we remember that the 
 mid-channel is about 160 feet deep, and that, say, 
 at least 40 feet would be necessary for foundation, 
 these mammoth towers would be about 460 feet high, 
 rising from a base of 300 feet. Bemember, good 
 reader, our engineer does not project one. of these 
 
THE UNDER-SEA RAILROAD. 
 
 129 
 
 pyramids to be constructed in a restless sea-way, 
 but 190 ! 
 
 Mr. Chalmers is jocular enough at the expense of 
 the schemes of his predecessors, but there are a few 
 items in his own which require explanation. His 
 
 plan is a tube reaching from shore to shore, in the 
 still depths of the Channel. As this tube will have 
 a powerful tendency to rise, it is to be weighted with 
 iron boxes filled with rough stones, the whole to bo 
 
 K 
 
130 
 
 THE UNDER-SEA RAILROAD. 
 
 covered witli an embankment of stones^ which, will 
 form a ridge from shore to shore 150 feet wide at the 
 base_, 40 feet high_, and from 40 to 120 feet below 
 the level of low water. 
 
 This tube is to be enlivened with three ventilators^ 
 one in mid-channel^ and one about a mile from either 
 shore. As the tube is to be 18 miles in lengthy pas- 
 sengers will never be further from the light than 4^ 
 miles. But an excursion-train^ or perhaps half a 
 dozen^ within three minutes of each other^ would 
 possibly find themselves hard-up for breathing- 
 holes^ like the poor frozen-in seals sometimes in the 
 Northern regions^, so the projector proposes a system 
 of artificial ventilation^ by up and down draughts^ 
 such as we already have in our coal-mines. The 
 necessity for such an adjunct is obvious enough^ but 
 it certainly is not calculated to give any favourable 
 view of this new trajectus. But schemers are ever 
 sanguine,, and in the very weakness of his case he 
 sees nothing but strength. One would think that 
 a passenger would shut his eyes and rush under 
 the roaring waters of the Channel with some such 
 feeling as Schiller^s diver ventured after the golden 
 cup — only too glad if he came to the upper world 
 all safe and sound. But no,, Mr. Chalmers must 
 make him absolutely enjoy both the pr aspect and his 
 sensations ! — 
 
 The cleanly painted light-coloured iron, and a thousand double 
 lamps, one every thirty-five yards, will give a cheerful aspect to 
 this ocean roadway, and render it an agreeable contrast to the noise 
 and damp and darkness of an ordinary tunnel, or even the miles of 
 
THE UNDER-SEA RAILROAD. 
 
 131 
 
 U7imviting scenery that often meet the eye in broad daylight. The 
 noise in the tube can be reduced to a minimum ; unlike tubular 
 bridges suspended in the air, the sound and vibration of the iron 
 will be deadened and neutralized by the equability and elasticity 
 of the pressure without ; and as the situation of the roadway will 
 admit of a perfectly united rail, the sensation that travellers will 
 experience on entering the Channel railway will be akin to what 
 we feel after walking on a gravelly road with thin shoes, when 
 we step upon the downy sward of a smooth green lawn. 
 
 We really must congratulate Mr. Chalmers upon 
 his project for providing the nation with a new source 
 of pleasure. People may^ perhaps^ in future take 
 a turn in his tunnel as they now do in a Turkish Bath^ 
 for the purpose of calming irritable nerves^ or for 
 ascending into that seventh heaven of dreamy delight 
 which the shampooing process produces. Such a 
 delicious place of meeting as this tube will afford 
 cannot be overlooked for State purposes. After the 
 next great war with Prance^ and the next frustration 
 of Napoleonic schemes^ there will of course be a new 
 Tilsit meeting between her Majesty and Napoleon 
 in the neutral ground at the centre of the tunnel_, 
 and here^ surrounded with the charming pro- 
 spect of cleanly painted light- coloured iron/^ with 
 old Neptune playing Peeping Tom^ perhaps_, down 
 the central ventilator^ vows of amity for all futurity 
 will be exchanged. Really^ rose-coloured Mr. Chal- 
 mers^ there is some such a thing as over-proving 
 one^s case. 
 
 We are by no means disposed^ however^ to employ 
 our pen simply to disparage the efforts of those who 
 are working in advance of their age. We confess we 
 
 K 2 
 
132 
 
 THE UNDEE-SEA EAILROAH. 
 
 believe in tlie ultimate accomplishment of a land 
 passage under the English Channel. There is no 
 part of that Channel^ be it remembered^ so deep but 
 that St. Pauhs Cathedral planted there would stand 
 up head and shoulders out of the water. We know 
 there are no great irregularities of bottom^ for the 
 first electric cable ever laid^ without special care or 
 knowledge^ remained in perfect order for ten years^ 
 and when taken up the other day for repairs was 
 found nearly throughout in as perfect a condition 
 as when it was first laid down. This is Neptune^s 
 testimony to the calm condition of the water and the 
 goodness of the bottom^ and where a flimsy cable 
 could remain so long a perfect pipe^ able to resist all 
 the efforts of one of the most subtle principles in 
 Nature to escape into the surrounding watei% surely a 
 tube of iron could be found equal to maintain a free 
 passage for man himself. The difficulties are all 
 comprised in getting the tube once there. 
 
 Mr. Chalmers may well laugh at the idea of building 
 a tube twenty miles long on land^ projecting it like a 
 large beam across the Channel^ and then dropping 
 it; but how does he attempt to get over the diffi- 
 culty? He tells us he proposes to make his tube 
 in lengths of 400 feet and 30 feet in diameter^ 
 and of joining them under water. He gives us^ 
 indeed^ the most minute directions as to the manner 
 in which these huge masses of iron are to be floated 
 out and then sunk so that they shall be jointed 
 together impermeably to the surrounding water. To 
 read his scheme it would really seem as though the 
 
THE UNDER- SEA RAILROAD. 
 
 133 
 
 whole thing could be done with as much ease as we 
 join gas or water pipes above ground. 
 
 We all know the difficulties and the partial failures 
 that attended Stephenson^ s floating of the tubular 
 roadway to the Menai railroad bridge ; but imagine^ 
 good reader^ an operation of this kind^ only a thousand 
 times more delicate^ having to be performed under 
 the English Channel no less than four hundred times ! 
 Imagine the terrible aspect of an army of those 
 hideous objects we see at given intervals plunging 
 into and emerging from the diving-bell bath at the 
 Polytechnic — creatures with hydrocephalous heads^ 
 and glaring brass-rimmed goggles^ and extremities 
 that seem a cross between those of an Arctic bear 
 and a walrus ! 
 
 When Mr. Chalmers tells us that this great under- 
 taking can be completed for £12^000^000^ and gives 
 in detail his estimates for the value of the materials^ 
 which he puts at fifty per cent, above their possible 
 cosC we are not inclined to disbelieve him ; but what 
 we do most certainly disbelieve is^ that three years 
 will be sufficient for such an achievement. 
 
 The elder Brunei was nearly beaten in making a 
 roadway only a quarter of a mile in length under a 
 river^ the interruptions that took place in the course 
 of the work amounting to years. Let the reader 
 imagine^ then_, those difficulties magnified a thousand- 
 fold^ and he will perhaps be inclined to believe that 
 there are items rather more important in the calcula- 
 tions than the market price of iron^ or of cubic yards 
 of stone. 
 
134 
 
 THE UNDEE-SEA EAILEOAD. 
 
 Granted that we can annex England to the Conti- 
 nent by a channel railway for £12^000^000^ it will be 
 readily conceded that the undertaking would be 
 highly profitable. Mr. Chalmers^ we think^ places his 
 estimate of a total annual revenue of £1^800^000 far 
 too low. We cannot estimate the amount of either 
 passenger or goods traffic that would fiow by such a 
 line. It would be limited^ we believe, only by the 
 mechnical capabilities of its trains. The rails which 
 spread out upon either shore with such placenta-like 
 ramifications, only require some medium of direct 
 communication to exchange the very life-blood of the 
 Continent with our own. 
 
 If one of the chief recommendations advanced by 
 the proprietors of the Great Eastern was her freedom 
 from motion and the abolition of sea-sickness, what may 
 not be said in favour of a rail that would sweep away 
 for ever that terrible affliction at present interposed 
 between the personal communication of ourselves and 
 the rest of Europe? The accomplishment of such 
 an undertaking would indeed confer honour on any 
 engineer. Already Mont Cenis is half drilled, and 
 we see no reason why that greater Mont Cenis, the 
 British Channel, should not be penetrated by some 
 genius, backed by sufficient sinews of war. 
 
HALF-HOIIES AT THE KENSINGTON 
 MUSEHM. 
 
 THE MUSEUM OF PATENT MACHINES^ ETC. 
 
 OuE museums are getting so extensive that it is 
 becoming a most wearisome task to attempt to master 
 their contents in the limited time sight-seers are gene- 
 rally able to devote to a stroll through them. All the 
 world knows it is one of the most headachey things 
 imaginable to spend a couple of hours among the 
 miles of galleries in the British Museum ; and the 
 South Kensington Museum is becoming almost as 
 confusing a place of amusement. We may have 
 half-hours with the different departments^ however^ 
 without coming away with that sense of mental pro- 
 stration which invariably attends any attempt to do 
 the Museum in one afternoon. There is one room 
 in it^ but not of it^ which always throws open its 
 doors free of charge — the Museum of the Com- 
 missioners of Patents^ in which a whole Noah^s Ark 
 of machines and models meets the eye of the visitor. 
 This exhibition is totally distinct from the South 
 Kensington Museum_, and only occupies a room 
 temporarily until a building is erected by the Com- 
 
.130 HALF-HOURS AT THE KENSINGTON MUSEUM. 
 
 niissioners with the £90^000 and upwards they have 
 in hand for that purpose. 
 
 In taking our survey of the riches of invention 
 which meet the eye on every hand_, let us first glance 
 at its curiosities. In a glass case at the top of 
 the room are several worm-eaten wooden pieces of 
 machinery^ which do not look unlike portions of 
 Dutch clockwork on a large scale. On the foun- 
 dation of these crumbling fragments the great staple 
 of English manufacture has been built : these are the 
 original spinning and carding machines of the barber 
 Arkwright. When he used to leave his basin and his 
 lather to plot and plan wheels and cogs^ his wife used 
 to scold him for not attending to his business. If 
 that old dame could have seen in a dream the mighty 
 results these ugly-looking engines w'ere destined to 
 give rise to in the course of a century — could see the 
 millions of slaves enthralled to grow cotton for its 
 delicate fingers to spin — could see the fieets of ships 
 they called into existence to supply it with food — 
 could see the great port of Liverpool they had 
 created^ the great city of palaces^ Manchester^ which 
 they had built^ the enormous fortunes which they had 
 earned^ and the comfort they had conferred on mil- 
 lions — she would have dreamed a dream which sur- 
 passes anything related in the Arabian Nights/^ 
 and with the addition that the dream was destined 
 to come true. Let us make our bow^ therefore^ to 
 those wormeaten old engines^ and be grateful that 
 their inventor had a mind superior to taking his 
 customers by the nose. 
 
HALF-IIOUES AT THE KENSINGTON MUSEUM. 137 
 
 By way of contrast to the rude models of Arkwright^ 
 we see close at hand a spinning-machine of the present 
 day. The clumsy beams have given place to light 
 ironwork^ finished with the delicacy of a clock move- 
 ment. Arkwright himself would scarcely recognize 
 the transmutations his own germ has passed through 
 in the course of a century. Not far off we see another 
 of those great mother-thoughts which have moved 
 the world during the present century : there is the 
 orio-inal model of the first locomotive that ever ran. 
 Mr. Trevethick^ in 1802^ conceived the plan of sub- 
 stituting steam for horse-power on the Cornish tram- 
 ways ; and here is the original idea of a power which 
 has since revolutionized society. The original loco- 
 motive had but two large wheels and a small guiding 
 wheels like a perambulator^ and was called by the 
 country people the PuflSing Billy ! 
 
 The machinery was confined to a cylinder^ a 
 piston-rod with a cross -tree head_, which communi- 
 cated the motion by two shafts to cranks on the 
 wheels ; this was the original germ which developed 
 into the existing complicated locomotive^ a model 
 of which is placed opposite to it. Trevethick^s engine 
 worked at the moderate pace of three and a half miles 
 an hour^ and carried coals only. George Stephenson 
 improved upon this^ and produced his engine^ which 
 carried passengers for the first time in 1829 on the 
 Stockton and Darlington line^ and continued working 
 until the year 1850. This locomotive would have been 
 an interesting addition to the machines in this room^ 
 but it is^ perhaps^, better where it is^ mounted on a 
 
138 HALF-HOUKS AT THE KENSINGTON MUSEUM. 
 
 pedestal at the entrance to the Darlington Station^ 
 where it takes its stand as the premier locomotive 
 of the world. As it cannot be removed^ an excellent 
 photograph does duty for it^ and clearly shows that 
 its machinery was only an amplification of Trevethick^s 
 idea^ the piston-rods^ cross-pieces^ &c.^ working per- 
 pendicularly over the boiler. But a still greater rarity 
 is the beam-engine model made by Watt himself. 
 This model works the steam- valve by what is termed 
 the tippit motion. An additional interest attaches 
 to it over and above the fact that it is one of the first 
 ideas of the great motive power of the present day^ 
 inasmuch as Watt always kept it under his own 
 observation in his drawing-room. It is but rudely 
 finished^ but the very fact that its great inventor^s 
 eye dwelt upon it with pride and triumph invests 
 it with a poetry all its own. Another beam-engine^ 
 once belonging to Watt^ with parallel motion attached 
 to the piston-rod^ is a better example of mechanical 
 skill. 
 
 We have not far to look for the first germ of 
 steam navigation. That huge model which appears 
 to be a combination of two funnels and a number 
 of chains working over wheels is the parent marine 
 engine. As early as the year 1787^ Patrick Miller_, of 
 Dalswinton^ Scotland_, engaged himself in making 
 experiments with double and treble boats^ which he 
 propelled by means of wheels placed between them 
 worked by manual labour ; in the following year he 
 induced one Symington^, an engineer^ at Wenlock 
 Headj to apply to it a marine steam-engine he had 
 
HALF-HOUES AT THE KENSINGTON MUSEUM. 139 
 
 invented. This engine propelled the boat along 
 Dalswinton Lake at the rate of five miles an hour. 
 This was undoubtedly the first attempt ever made to 
 use steam as the motive power in a vessel^ although 
 it was not the first practical steamboat. The engine 
 which belongs to the earliest history of that invention 
 is what is called an atmospheric engine — that is^ the 
 piston is raised by the action of steam^ and then it is 
 forced down by atmospheric pressure. The history of 
 this curious parent of steam navigation is worth noting. 
 After the trial in the boat^ the engine was removed to 
 Mr. Miller^ s library where it remained until his death 
 in 1815 ; in 182 8_, it was sent by his son^ packed in a 
 deal case^ to Messrs. Coutts & Co._, in the Strand^ 
 where it remained until 1837; and finally it found its 
 way to a plumber^s shop in Edinburgh^ who flung it 
 aside with the purpose of melting it. However^ the 
 model was rescued from destruction in 1855_, and was 
 restored to its former working condition by Messrs. 
 Penn & Son in 1857. 
 
 It is usually supposed that the boat made by Fulton^ 
 in America^ was the first practical steamboat ; but 
 that honour must be transferred to Symington_, who^ 
 in 1801^ perceiving that his old engine was too com- 
 plicated to work practically^, completed a new one 
 with the later improvements by Watt and others_, and 
 placed it on board the Charlotte Dimclas, which was^ 
 in truths the first practical steamboat. The paddle 
 was still a problem which puzzled mechanicians. Its 
 best form^ so as to offer the least resistance on enter- 
 ing and leaving the water^ engaged the skill of hun- 
 
140 HALF-HOURS AT THE KENSINGTON MUSEUM. 
 
 dreds of thoughtful men^ many of whose models are 
 to be seen in the Museum. But other minds were 
 intent upon superseding the wheel altogether^ and at 
 last Captain Smithes screw did so. We can all 
 remember the fierce disputes there were among nau- 
 tical men with respect to the relative powers of paddle 
 versus screw — a dispute which was finally settled by 
 the tournament which took place between her Majesty^s 
 steamer Rattler, screw steamer^ and the Electro, paddle- 
 boat^j both of equal size and power. They towed stern 
 to stern^ and the propeller dragged the paddle after 
 her at the rate of two and a half miles an hour. This 
 victory seems to have put an end to all attempts to 
 improve the paddle^ and now human ingenuity seems 
 concentrated upon the screw. The number of patents 
 taken out for different forms of the propeller is some- 
 thing extraordinary^, and the models in the Museum 
 are in themselves a curiosity. Every degree of pitch 
 that can be got out of a spiral would seem to be 
 exhausted^ and the favourite design of screw now 
 appears to be modelled in the shape of a blade-bone. 
 The screw of the Rattler, for instance^ ten feet in 
 diameter^ looks like the remains of the scapulse 
 of some gigantic Ichthyosaurus. Thus we go on 
 improving upon each other^s efforts^, every one 
 adding some trifling improvement until perfection 
 is attained. 
 
 Five minutes^ walk through this Museum is suflBcient 
 to satisf}^ me of the profundity of the remark that 
 ^^it is society that invents.^^ Let us take the subject 
 of steam as a motive power^ and let us see how long 
 
HALF-HOURS AT THE KENSINGTON MUSEUM. 141 
 
 the idea has been before the world. Here^ on the 
 walls^ we find a coloured drawing of Heroes steam- 
 engine invented one hundred and thirty years before 
 Christ ! We can scarcely conceive that whilst Pan 
 was still young, and whilst great was Diana of the 
 Ephesians, the thin white vapour which now moves 
 the world was even then dandled as a second infant 
 Hercules. Heroes idea of the application of the 
 elastic force of the youthful giant was confined 
 to simply projecting it against the resisting medium 
 of the air : a hollow spindle connecting with 
 two arms turned in opposite directions being filled 
 with steam, the two jets acting on the air, gave the 
 simple machine a revolving action. What centuries 
 of thought lie between this and the great engine of 
 the Leviathan steamer, a model of which is to be 
 found in this room ! 
 
 In these centuries we find the names of Solomon 
 de Cans, Giovanni Branca, Torricelli, the Marquis 
 of Worcester, Denis Papin, Thomas Savery, Thomas 
 Newcomen, and Watt, to say nothing of the host 
 of inventors who have added improvements in the 
 present century. All of these studious men have 
 nursed the mighty infant through the ages, until its 
 limbs present their present gigantic proportions ; and 
 yet we say, familiarly enough, that steam is still in its 
 infancy ; and, without doubt, the New Zealander, could 
 he exhume the museums of science of his day, will be 
 able to read a list of improvers of steam as numerous 
 as those we have already had. 
 
 Another great element of our present civilization 
 
142 HALF-HOURS AT THE KENSINGTON MUSEUM. 
 
 is beginning to make signs of its existence in this 
 Museum. We allude to the electric telegraph. 
 Bakewelhs Copying Machine is one of the most 
 interesting of this class,, as it brings before the 
 public eye the means that can be employed to 
 write with a pen thousands of miles in length. If 
 the Atlantic cable were in working order^ for instance, 
 a man through its instrumentality could sit down to 
 write a letter in London, and feel certain that a 
 facsimile of his handwriting was at the same moment 
 coming out of the telegraph office at New York ! The 
 manner in which this astounding machine works is as 
 follows : — The message is originally written on a con- 
 ducting material, such as tinfoil, with resin or some 
 non-conducting ink. Over the face of this letter, 
 which is placed on a cylinder, a point of metal 
 revolves — this point is in connection with the con- 
 ducting wire ; at New York, say, a piece of chemically 
 prepared paper is placed on a like cylinder to receive 
 the message ; both cylinders are made to move round 
 by clockwork. As the point at this end of the wire 
 passes over the non-conducting resin writing, no 
 current passes ; hence the point which moves synony- 
 mously with it at New York does not change the 
 colour of the paper, but all the other surface of 
 the writing tablet being a conductor, the currents 
 pass and deepen its colour by chemical action on 
 the far-distant recording tablet. The receiver 
 thus obtains a perfect facsimile of his correspon- 
 dent's handwriting done in white upon a blue 
 ground. Specimens of this electrical handwriting are 
 
HALF-HOURS AT THE KENSINGTON MUSEUM. 143 
 
 placed beside the telegraphic machine^ and afford 
 an admirable example of the caligraphy of the 
 lightning-pen. 
 
 The great practical puzzle of the present day — sub- 
 marine telegraphy — endeavours to find its solution 
 in dozens of different specimens of electric cables. 
 When it is remembered that the problem to be solved 
 is to produce some envelope which shall perfectly 
 isolate and protect a conducting wire, running for 
 thousands of miles^ as the Atlantic cable for instance 
 does j when it is further remembered that a fault in 
 the covering material of the wire only as big as a 
 pin-hole speedily becomes enlarged to the size of a 
 sixpence by the burning action of the electric fluid 
 passing out into the water; when^ again^ we know 
 that gutta-percha^ with which cables are covered^ is 
 liable to the attacks of insects^ to be abraded by 
 rubbing on sharp rocks ; and when we find that in 
 shallow water cables are always liable to be dragged 
 up by ships^ anchors^ the difficulties of making them 
 electrically secure are indeed immense. Hence hun- 
 dreds of patents have been taken out to accomplish 
 the desired end^ and thousands of miles of ruined 
 cable^ representing some tw'o millions of money^ now 
 lie at the bottom of the ocean^ subjects of great 
 curiosity no doubt to the fishes. 
 
 We have been noticing hitherto different forms of 
 the great inventions which have changed the face of 
 society within the last quarter of a century ; but the 
 Museum does not shut its doors to ingenuity employed 
 in even the smallest objects. Here^ for instance^ is a 
 
144 HALF-HOURS AT THE KENSINGTON MUSEUM. 
 
 collection of ancient and modern locks_, — -some of 
 Chinese^ some Indian^ and some Egyptian origin, all 
 giving testimony to man^s familiarity witli this little 
 instrument before the Christian era. In these, all 
 the leading features of the tumblers in our best locks 
 are to be found. The Indian padlock may be said 
 to depend upon its security for its moral influence ! 
 It is made in the form of a bird, representing the 
 Hindu deity Garuda. The works are of the most 
 trumpery kind ; but it is supposed to owe its security 
 to a fear of the vengeance of the deity whose image 
 it represents. As a pendant to this moral lock, are 
 the keys poetical which once gave freedom to Mary 
 Queen of Scots from Lochleven Castle. 
 
 Sewing-machines of all kinds are here, of course ; 
 but we were struck with an invention calculated, we 
 think, to give relief to the needle-woman in a still 
 more marked manner. A machine to mend stockings 
 has always struck us as a great desideratum : our 
 inventor, however, professes to accomplish his object 
 in a more expeditious manner. Noting that stock- 
 ings wear out only in two places, at the toes and heel, 
 he manufactures these pieces at a cheap rate, in order 
 that they may be pieced on at home. 
 
 Another ingenious man has patented a sweeping- 
 brush, which runs along the carpet on rollers, and 
 collects all the dust in a covered box. The advan- 
 tages of this machine are, that it does its work 
 without scattering the dust; therefore the house- 
 maid need not cover the furniture up while pursuing 
 her cleansing work. 
 
HALF-HOURS AT THE KENSINGTON MUSEUM. 1-15 
 
 Another individual^ who still further labours to 
 ease the domestic servant^ exhibits a patent for peel- 
 ing potatoes and apples, and for mincing meat ; and 
 the gas engineers show working models of different 
 gas stoves, which supersede the use of coal fires 
 altogether. 
 
 The introduction of new materials and the cheapen- 
 ing of old ones has given rise to their applications 
 in articles with which their use would, on a priori 
 grounds, appear totally inadmissible. Here, for in- 
 stance, is a glass pump, working with an india-rubber 
 valve; and it seems strong enough to resist any 
 ordinary rough usage. Close at hand is a mangle, 
 the bed and rollers of Avhich are made of the same 
 fraoale material. 
 
 o 
 
 The introduction of india-rubber has, we know, 
 revolutionized whole trades, and the glass cases 
 in the Museum are filled with specimens of the 
 pm*poses to which, under different forms, it is 
 applied. 
 
 How little did we dream in our school-days that 
 india-rubber was destined to play the part in the 
 world it has done during the last quarter of a century. 
 The many waterproofing purposes to which Messrs. 
 Mackintosh have applied it we are all familiar with, 
 and the change which takes place in its nature on 
 the application of a little sulphur we also know; 
 but the public, unless they visited the Museum, 
 would scarcely dream of the extent to which its 
 consequent increased resiliency has caused it to 
 displace the use of steel in the form of springs. 
 
 L 
 
14G HALF-HOUES AT THE KENSINGTON MUSEUM. 
 
 and of packing of all kinds^ in order to make 
 air-tigkt joints. 
 
 Yet another change is induced in this Protean 
 material : by simply baking it^ we get what is termed 
 ebonite by the Messrs. Silver^ its discoverers and 
 patentees. This substance has all the appearance of 
 jet_, with this advantage^, — that it is tough instead of 
 brittle ; hence its applicability to a thousand uses in 
 the arts and sciences. We see here chains which 
 cannot be told from the best jet_, combs^ paper-knives^ 
 statuettes — anything^ in shorty which can be moulded^ 
 and requires a high finish and polish. These speci- 
 mens of the manufactures carried on at Silver- 
 town/^ in the Isle of Dogs^ are full of the deepest 
 interest^ and prove how quickly many of our oldest 
 established trades may be prostrated by the discovery 
 of some new material^ or the chemical change which 
 may be induced by scheming men in an old one. 
 
 Not the least attractive feature in this Museum is 
 the collection of portraits of great inventors. The 
 marked individuality in every countenance is very 
 observable. But these are the lineaments of the 
 famous and fortunate discoverers. The philosopher 
 must in his own mind draw a picture of the amount 
 of care and struggle represented by the great mass 
 of patents in this room. Of the many years spent 
 in efforts which have only terminated in the total 
 impoverishment of the thoughtful toilers ; of the 
 many hopes blasted^ of the castles in the air that 
 have been transformed to dismal prisons^ we do not 
 see here the expression on the canvas^ but be sure 
 
HALF-HOURS AT THE KENSINGTON MUSEUM. 147 
 
 they have existed^ and will exist as long as there 
 remains in man an irresistible impulse in the path 
 of progress^ and a God-like energy to pursue it at 
 all cost and sacrifice. 
 
 THE FOOD DEPARTMENT. 
 
 When the visitor has given up his umbrella, he sees 
 before him a staircase which even habitues of the 
 place do not often ascend, tempted as they are by the 
 art-collection around them. If he does happen to 
 wander in these upper latitudes, he finds himself in 
 a region of raw material, very interesting to those 
 versed in manufactures, and especially in the great 
 textile manufactures of cloth and wool, but not so 
 attractive to mere pleasure-seekers. 
 
 Beyond this long gallery, however, is the Food 
 Department of the Museum, which contains many 
 explanations of necessary household truths, and also 
 many curiosities calculated to interest and instruct. 
 At the very threshold of the apartment we are met 
 with selected specimens of the many varieties of 
 wheat and maize grown throughout the world. It has 
 long been suspected that the cereal grains are but 
 cultivated examples of wild cereal grasses — that they 
 were not created as corn, but that they have been 
 improved by culture into their present condition. 
 This supposition was confirmed by M. Fabre, of Agde, 
 in the south of France, who, in 1838, sowed some 
 grains of the ^gilops ovata^ a common cereal grass, 
 and, by successive sowings in garden soil, produced, 
 
 L 2 
 
148 HALF-HOUKS AT THE KENSINGTON MUSEUM. 
 
 in 1846^ crops of real wheat as fine as any to be found 
 in the neighbourhood. This experiment is now being 
 carried on hj Professor Bnckman^ and the grass is 
 gradually undergoing the same transformation into 
 the true cereal grain. 
 
 The production of the oat-plant from a common 
 field-grass has been demonstrated by experiments 
 made by the same gentleman. Eye is still found wild 
 in the mountains of the Crimea^ and barley has been 
 gathered in a like condition in Mesopotamia. 
 
 As there are a great number of wild cereal grasses 
 yet to be founds these experiments would lead us to 
 conclude that innumerable varieties of wheat may yet 
 be brought forth by careful culture^ as there is reason to 
 believe that nearly all the existing varieties have been 
 cultivated from the ^gilops ovata. These facts should 
 stimulate our agriculturists to further investigation in 
 this direction. The cases at hand contain specimens 
 of the different methods of making bread. A loaf of 
 the ordinary fermented breads made t^vo years ago^ 
 represents one mass of green fungi^ whilst other bread 
 made without fermentation^ and still older^ is quite 
 free from these growths. The Director of the depart- 
 ment should obtain some specimens of bread made 
 by Dr. Daugleish^s process^ which presents^ perhaps, 
 the purest form of the staff* of life yet known. 
 
 In other cases we find bread made by savage tribes. 
 The Dika bread from Africa looks and cuts like 
 Castile soap; it is full of vegetable oil, and would 
 form a famous bread for cold localities. Then 
 there is the New Zealand native bread, resembling 
 
HALF-HOUliS AT THE KENSINGTON MUSEUM. 149 
 
 lumps of yellow oclire^ being, in fact_, the pollen of a 
 common reed. 
 
 The most curious article in the shape of bread is a 
 very ancient specimen, which, together with dried 
 apples and the stones of various fruits, was found in 
 the Lake of Zurich. It is known these remains are 
 coeval with what is termed the Stone Period, or that 
 far-distant age before the natives discovered the use 
 of iron. It would seem an impossibility that so 
 perishable a material as bread could have survived 
 for so many thousands of years as it has done ; but 
 analysis proves that it is true bread, and there can be 
 no doubt that it is rightly ascribed to the remote 
 period in history given to it. There can be little 
 doubt that the like remains of the aboriginal inha- 
 bitants of this country are yet to be found in our 
 own lakes. 
 
 Whilst we are upon the mere curiosities of food, let 
 ns direct the attention of the visitor to the specimens 
 of edible snails. He will smile when we inform him 
 that it is an undoubted fact that the consumption of 
 them is so great at the present time in Paris as to 
 interfere perceptably with the sale of oysters. 
 
 The most singular articles of food are to be found 
 among the cases dedicated to the Chinese and 
 Japanese. Here we see brains of the sturgeon, birds^' 
 nests, deer sinews ; glue from the deer- skin, rhino-- 
 ceros and elephant hides, and sharks^ fins. The 
 Chinese, it appears, are very fond of a gelatinous kind 
 of food. Their sweetmeats are of a very superior 
 kind, and extremely like our own, — indeed, the little 
 
150 HALF-HOUES AT THE KENSINGTON MUSEUM. 
 
 Celestials suck lollypops that may be matched any 
 day at Fortnum & Mason^s. The range of bottles 
 containing these Chinese comfits look so tempting, 
 that we are informed they have been broken open and 
 cleared, more than once, by British youths. 
 
 The extent to which seaweeds are made an article 
 of food by different nations would scarcely be believed, 
 were they not placed here before our eyes. 
 
 In looking at some of the specimens in the Museum, 
 we are inclined to ask if it is a natural exposition, or 
 an advertising medium for some Teetotal Society. 
 Here, for instance, is a goblet filled with a verd-green 
 fluid, and one beside it with a dull olive-black mixture. 
 On carefully scanning the labels attached to them, 
 we find they are intended as tests of the presence of 
 alcohol in a personas breath. Thus, the dull dark- 
 green is a solution of bichromate of potash in sulphuric 
 acid. This specimen, after having been breathed 
 through for half an hour by a teetotaller, retains its 
 original colour; whilst that subjected to the breath of 
 an individual who had taken a glass of brandy-and- 
 water half an hour before, is grass-green in appear- 
 ance. What is intended to be proved by thus 
 ostentatiously holding up the hues of a glass of liquid 
 we cannot conceive. Who wants to hunt up even 
 the very ghost of Alcohol in this absurd manner ? It 
 is bad enough to find our old friend Oruikshank 
 adulterating the text of our fairy-tales as he has done 
 in his illustrated edition with teetotal nonsense, but 
 to find Science stooping to such fanaticism in a public 
 gallery is quite unpardonable. 
 
HALF-HOURS AT THE KENSINGTON MUSEUM. 151 
 
 Not far from the drunkard^s breath-test we find an 
 enormous bottle filled with water. Innocent as this 
 looks_, it is intended as a libel upon the spectator. 
 For we read upon its rotund surface the following : 
 
 Average quantity^ 3|- gallons^ of alcohol consumed 
 yearly by each person in England in the form of beer^ 
 spirits^ ! Imagine the good old lady upon my 
 arm — a dear old soul that never touches anything 
 stronger than Bohea — reading this teetotal flani^, and 
 wondering^ if she really does drink gin-and- water to 
 this extent^ who pays her spirit merchant. The 
 absurdity of taking a general average^ and then 
 applying it personally to every spectator^ is patent 
 enough. But the ingenious contriver of these moral 
 lessons has not done with Stiggins yet^ and^ by 
 implication^ all that read share the crime of Stiggins. 
 He is attacked through his exhalations and through 
 his fluid ingesta^ and now comes a more solid argu- 
 ment in castigation of his beastly drunkenness. This 
 is shown to us in a glass case full of grain^ with this 
 inscription: ^‘'Amount of barley^ 1-|- bushels^ destroyed 
 by producing the yearly average consumption of ardent 
 spirits by each person in England. That amount 
 would feed a full-grown man for forty days.'’^ If^ in 
 addition to these cases^ Mr. Grough could persuade the 
 Directors of the Museum to have one of the attendants 
 placed here^ and daily fuddled as a ^‘'horrid 
 example/^ the teaching would be complete. 
 
 After seeing alcohol in the form of the mildest table 
 ale thus ruthlessly hunted down^ it certainly is not 
 reassuring to turn to the cases in which the teas are 
 
152 HALF-HOUES AT THE KENSINGTON MUSEUM. 
 
 exposed^ and to find they are so adulterated. Here 
 we see before our eyes the Prussian blue^ the chromate 
 of lead^ the French chalky the clay^ and the hundred 
 and one odd dirts which go to adulterate ordinary tea^ 
 and to make up lye tea^ in which there is not a particle 
 of the real leaf present. 
 
 If we turn to the Adames ale supplied to us in 
 London^ we are still further puzzled what to drink. 
 Dr. Lankester has run up the full gamuts if we may so 
 speak^ of the filth found in the Thames from Southend 
 to Thames Ditton. The various shades of nastiness are 
 brought clearly before our eye ; but that organ must not 
 pride itself upon being a sufficient detective officer to the 
 stomach. On the contrary^ some of the very brightest 
 water to be found among the bottles devoted to the 
 surface-well waters of the Metropolis are positively the 
 most deleterious. That sparkling bottle^ to wit^ from 
 the celebrated Aldgate Pump^ which absolutely tastes 
 even better than it looks — so cool^ sparkling^ and 
 refreshing — owes its qualities to the presence in it of 
 the nitrates drawn from the neighbouring churchyard ; 
 that other bottle^ so clear and limpid^ is proved by 
 Clarkes test to be^ in fact^ turgid with lime. Again^ 
 the purer the water the more open it is to another 
 danger^ — the more apt it is to act upon lead and form 
 a solution which entails the most deadly symptoms on 
 all partaking of it^ especially young children. Think 
 of this^ Paterfamilias^ and of the leaden cistern you 
 rejoice in^ and remember that your filter is powerless 
 against this deadly ingredient held by chemical action 
 in your drinking water. When we consider that the 
 
HALF-HOUKS AT THE KENSINGTON MUSEUM. 153 
 
 human body is mPvinly built up of water^ that^ taking 
 a man of 1541b.^ 431b. of solids are held in a solu- 
 tion of 1111b. of the former element^ we are tempted 
 to ask how the great waste that must be going on of 
 the aqueous element in the human frame is healthily 
 restored^ seeing that the drinking water in cities is so 
 far from pure. No doubt^, if the full measure had to 
 be made up by libations of Thames or well watei% 
 however purified^ it would go ill with us ; but^ happily^ 
 Nature distils the element for our use in the food we 
 eat^ which^ like the human frame^ may be said to 
 consist mainly of water. 
 
 The cases of teas are worthy of inspection^ if it 
 were merely for the curiosities they contain. Some 
 of the first-class teas — such as the superfine Flowery 
 Pekoe — is never seen in this country ; even in China 
 it is worth fifty shillings a pound. The specimens 
 here look much more like pieces of brown and grey 
 wool than the ordinary tea of commerce^ whilst some 
 choice packets^ once in the possession of Commis- 
 sioner Yeh^ might well be mistaken for bn*d^s-eye 
 tobacco. Tea is fast becoming the great beverage of 
 the human race. It is estimated that 400^,000^000 of 
 men now use it. As . a nation^ however^ England is 
 the great consumer; for whilst we use an amount 
 which may be reckoned as the United States 
 
 consume only 16^ Eussia 4 , and France 1. The 
 teetotaller will be surprised to hear that tea contains 
 a volatile oil which is narcotic and intoxicating. Its 
 chief value^ however^ resides in its crystalline prin- 
 ciple^ which prevents rapid change or waste in the 
 
154 HALF-HOURS AT THE KENSINGTON MUSEUM. 
 
 fleshy parts of the body^ and so economizes food. 
 One often wonders how old women can manage to 
 keep themselves alive upon their dish of tea^ taken 
 mornings noon^ and night ; but the mystery ceases to 
 be so great when we see the chemical action it exerts 
 npon the tissues. Moreover^ tea is more sustaining to 
 the poor than the rich^ for the reason that they use 
 soda with it^ which extracts the nitrogenous or flesh- 
 forming principle of the leaves. Tea contains many 
 other nutritious ingredients_, but cocoa is greatly 
 richer in these than tea. In a hundred parts of cocoa 
 no less than 50 are butter^ or heat-givers^ and 20 of 
 albumen^ or flesh-formers. The value of this article 
 of food as a nourishing diet for hard workers in cold 
 countries is thus conclusively shown. The plan of 
 analyzing the different articles of food^ and of tabu- 
 larizing their results_, as we find is here done in the 
 various cases_, is of the utmost importance^, as it 
 teaches the public the true worth of different articles 
 of food. Any intelligent person^ from a study of this 
 department of the Exhibition^ would^ with a little care^ 
 be able to construct a dietary on the most economical 
 and efficient principle. If^ in addition to these 
 analyses of food^ some statistics could be given of the 
 nature of the alimentation of the diSerent counties in 
 Great Britain and of different nations^ together with 
 the average amount of work the consumers were 
 capable of^ the instruction this Department would 
 afford to social science would be incalculable. For 
 instance^ the labourers in the north of England and in 
 Scotland are capable of much harder work than those 
 of the southern counties^ and this is very justly 
 
HALF-HOURS AT THE KENSINGTON MUSEUM. 155 
 
 attributed to tbe superior flesb-producing powers of 
 oatmeal used by the former over that of the watery 
 potato^, which forms the chief food of the peasantry 
 of Somersetshire and Dorsetshire. If it could be made 
 clear to the farmer that it is to his interest to feed his 
 labourers well,, we should doubtless see a chan*ge for 
 the better. He will give any price for manures to 
 invigorate his land^ because he knows his returns will 
 be more than commensurate. Prove to him that by 
 affording Hodge wages that would insure him a more 
 highly nitrogenized food^ and that^ in consequence, 
 he would be able to load two dung- carts where before 
 he only loaded one, and the problem of elevating the 
 labourers of the country would be speedily solved. 
 It is asserted that an adult labouring man wastes 
 5oz. of muscle in the course of his daily labour. Some 
 men — such as nawies — waste much more than this ; 
 but taking this as the average, we find a very inter- 
 esting table given in this part of the Exhibition, which 
 affords a good idea to the public of the relative value 
 and cost of various kinds of diet necessary for 
 restoring this amount of waste : — 
 
 
 
 Ih. oz. 
 
 
 S. 
 
 d. 
 
 Wheat Flour 
 
 
 2 1 
 
 average cost 
 
 0 
 
 
 Barleymeal 
 
 
 2 6 
 
 
 0 
 
 
 Oatmeal 
 
 
 1 13 
 
 •)') 
 
 0 
 
 
 Maize 
 
 
 2 9 
 
 
 0 
 
 
 Eye 
 
 
 2 3 
 
 ?? 
 
 0 
 
 6 
 
 Kice 
 
 
 4 13 
 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 Buckwheat . . . 
 
 
 3 10 
 
 
 1 
 
 0 
 
 Lentils 
 
 
 13 
 
 
 0 
 
 5 
 
 Peas (dry) ... 
 
 
 1 5 
 
 
 0 
 
 n 
 
 Beans (dry) 
 
 
 1 5 
 
 ?? 
 
 0 
 
 2 
 
 Potatoes . . . 
 
 
 ... 20 13 
 
 
 0 
 
 / 
 
 Bread 
 
 
 3 13 
 
 V 
 
 0 
 
 6 
 
156 HALF-HOUES AT THE KENSINGTON MUSEUM. 
 
 The reader will not fail to observe how wide this 
 scale ranges both as to cost and as to the bulk of the 
 food required to be taken to supply the normal waste 
 of man. Whilst 11b. 5oz. of either peas or beans are 
 sufficient for this purpose^ no less than 201b. of the 
 watery potato are necessary to produce the same 
 result. It is clear that the apparatus required to 
 eliminate the muscle-producing elements from such 
 a heap of potatoes must be stretched to more than its 
 usual size^ — and we find the fact to be so ; for whilst 
 the Irish peasantry depended almost entirely upon 
 this food^ their stomachs were so unnaturally large as 
 to render them the most pot-bellied nation in Europe. 
 If we were asked what meal supplies in the smallest 
 compass the two great sustainers of life^ carbonaceous 
 and nitrogenous food^ we should point to the labourer's 
 bonne-hoitchcy a dish of bacon and beans; thus we see 
 that the instincts of man lead him to the very same 
 results as the most careful chemical experiments do 
 the philosopher in his laboratory. We may^ as a 
 general rule^ depend upon our taste as a faithful guide 
 to our alimentary requirements. It is not a rule of 
 life^ as some sour dietetic Solons would have it^ that 
 
 whatever is nice is wrong ; and when the child 
 clamours for lumps of sugar_, be sure that it is wiser in 
 its generation than you^ good mother^ for denying it ; 
 for sugar supplies^ in the most digestible form_, the 
 heat-producing food so necessary for its preservation. 
 But it may be asked why^ when we wish to show the 
 amount of food necessary to supply the daily waste 
 of the organic matter in the body^ we refer to vege- 
 
HALF-HOURS AT THE KENSINGTON MUSEUM. 157 
 
 table products. The chief reason is, that meat to 
 the poor man is a luxury rather than a customary 
 article of diet ; and another that all the elements of 
 animal food are to be found in the vegetable world. 
 To use Professor PlayfaiPs words : The nutritive 
 or flesh-forming parts of food are called fibrine, 
 albumen, and casein : they contain the four elements, 
 carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen, and oxygen, in exactly 
 the same proportions, and are found both in vegetable 
 and animal food. Pibrine may be got either by 
 stirring fresh-drawn blood, or from the juice of a 
 cauliflower; albumen, or white of egg, from eggs, 
 from cabbage-juice, or from flour ; casein, or cheese, 
 exists more abundantly in peas and beans than it does 
 in milk itself. .... Vegetables are the true makers 
 of flesh ; animals only arrange the flesh which they 
 And ready formed in animals. If we go further down 
 in the chain, we And all food in the debris of the rocks, 
 for the breaking up of these form the earth, from 
 which it is eliminated by the chemistry of plants, to 
 be further sorted for man^s use in the bodies of 
 animals. We thus see how significant and literally 
 true is the term we apply to the earth of our great 
 Mother.^^ 
 
 The Directors of this Department, having analyzed 
 nearly every article of food which ministers to the 
 wants of man, sum up by reducing man himself to his 
 elements. The spectator at the end of the long 
 gallery is suddenly brought up by a large glass case, 
 thus ticketed : Ultimate elements in a human body 
 weighing 1541b.'’^ Everybody is curious to look at 
 
158 HALF-HOUES AT THE KENSINGTON MUSEUM. 
 
 liis own contents^ and consequently the glass case is 
 generally crowded ; and we fancy many an old-fashioned 
 ]Derson is inclined to doubt that his corpus can be 
 converted into such a doctor^s shop as he here 
 sees solemnly ranged in bottles of all sizes. Can it 
 be possible that the tank^ containing sufficient water 
 for a good-sized vivarium^ represents the amount of 
 that element in an average man perfectly free from 
 the dropsy ? When we are told that a human being 
 of the mean size contains 1111b. of pure liquid fluid, 
 we can understand why there are so many thirsty 
 souls in the world. Then we see his fat in a bottle, 
 looking like so much beards grease, and find there is 
 151b. weight of it. His 151b. of gelatine looks painfully 
 like the glue of commerce. Still more monstrous does 
 it seem to think that his too solid flesh is reducible 
 into the phosphates of lime, carbonates of lime, and 
 the various sulphates of iron, magnesium, potassium, 
 sodium, silicum, and fluorine which we see paraded 
 before us with such hard, dry, chemical cruelty. But 
 what are those large white blocks meant to represent ? 
 These are the measures of our gases. Thus we are 
 told that a block one foot square represents the 
 amount of oxygen in our economy, but that our 
 hydrogen would occupy 3,000 such blocks ! Good 
 gracious ! enough to build a pyramid, to say nothing 
 of the chlorine and nitrogen. We enter this Depart- 
 ment with feelings of curiosity, but leave it with 
 wonder, and a sense of the rediictio ad ahsurdum to 
 which our chemists have reduced imperial man 
 himself. 
 
OH, THE ROAST BEEF OF OLD 
 ENGLAND !‘ 
 
 The steadfast character of the Englishman is^ no 
 doubt^ an important element in our national greatness. 
 We are slow to enter on new ways^ and equally slow 
 to desert them when once entered. The character of 
 immobility has^ however^ its serious drawbacks ; if a 
 slow-moving man once goes deliberately wrongs he 
 rights himself in as sluggish and deliberate a manner. 
 This is just the case with John Bull in his character 
 as a stock-feeder and breeder. Some years since (we 
 scarcely like to say how many_, for our memory of 
 adipose exhibitions on Christmas-eves goes back a 
 long time)^ the custom came in of bloating out 
 oxen and sheep with oil- cake until they became 
 mountains of fat_, the delight of Baker Street^ and the 
 ultimate triumph of butchers. Every year saw the 
 evil increase. Hodge with one hand poured in more 
 oil-cake and with the other pointed to the triumphant 
 result^ — shapeless^ blear-eyed^ panting^ miserable 
 
 * This article was written in the year 1858, but, as far as we 
 can see, our fat beasts are as rampant as ever. 
 
160 OH^ THE BOAST BEEE OF OLD ENGLAND ! 
 
 beasts^ reduced by art to the condition of a huge 
 heap of oil-globules. In vain the Press^ with the 
 Times at its head^ protested that the true end and 
 aim of the grower of British beef did not consist in 
 converting rump and sirloin into kitchen candles ; in 
 vain they pointed to panting pigs and fat-legged 
 oxen as a most melancholy and impotent conclusion 
 to all his labours. In vain the public voice has con- 
 demned the system of giving prizes to pigs because 
 they cannot see for fat^ and premiums to oxen because 
 their backs are flat as tables v/ith adipose stuffing. 
 The Fat Cattle Exhibition still flourishes^ and John 
 Bull pours his oil-cake and other carbonaceous food 
 into his stocky with the same regularity as Betty 
 pours Colza oil into the moderator lamp. 
 
 We cannot_, however^ help attributing this persist- 
 ence in a bad direction as much to the ignorance of 
 the public as to that of the feeder and breeder. The 
 idea is universally prevalent that the nutritious 
 character of the lean is in a direct ratio to the quantity 
 of the fat. Your streaky sirloin is always looked 
 upon as a picture and no doubt the presence of 
 fat in moderate quantities is a guarantee that the 
 animal has lived a peaceful enjoyable life^ and has been 
 well supplied with the good things thereof. 
 
 If the public and the meat-grower would only 
 stop at this pointy all would be well; but they seem 
 to consider that they cannot have too much of a 
 good thing^, and accordingly prize oxen^ pigs^ 
 sheep grow bigger and bigger as Christmas-tide 
 comes round; the kitchen grease-pot flourishes^ and 
 
OH^ THE EOAST BEEF OF OLD ENGLAND ! 161 
 
 the public will not be convinced. Mr. F. J. Gant^ 
 the assistant-surgeon to the Eoyal Free Hospital^ 
 instead of expressing a mere opinion and many vague 
 generalities^, determined some time since to notice 
 the condition of a few of the best prize beasts^ and 
 then to follow them up to the slaughter-house^ and 
 extract the truth out of them by means of a posU 
 mortem inquiry. The result of Mr. GanFs highly 
 interesting labours appeared in several of the town 
 papers^ among which may be mentioned the Morning 
 Post and the Observer. He painted what he saw with 
 a picturesque pen worthy of a more noble theme. 
 In looking about him at one of the late Baker Street 
 Exhibitions^, he says he could detect no external sign 
 of disease^ except in two Devon cows^ Class 4^ Nos. 32 
 and 33 prize^ each of which was suSering from a 
 disorder of an internal organ : — 
 
 One of them looked very ill, and laid her head and neck flat on the 
 ground like a greyhound. I pointed out these animals to a man who 
 v/as drawing water, and I asked him if their condition was one of 
 common occurrence. He said, I know nothing of them beasties 
 in p’ticler, but it’s the case with many on ’em : I knows that.” 
 
 Having thus accurately noticed the decrepitude of the 
 beast with a scientific eye_, and ascertained from the 
 helper that it was illustrative of the class_, he passed 
 on to the pigs_, those wonderful pigs of Prince Albert 
 that always carried off a prize. We beg our readers 
 to admire the delicacy of the finish with which 
 Mr. Gant gives us a picture of the pathognomonic 
 condition of these animals : — 
 
 They lay helplessly on their, sides, with their noses propped up 
 M 
 
162 OH^ THE EOAST BEEF OF OLD ENGLAND! 
 
 against each other’s backs, as if endeavouring to breathe more 
 easily ; but their respiration was loud, suffocating, and at long 
 intervals. Then you heard a short, catching snore, which shook the 
 whole body of the animal, and 'passed with the motion of a wave 
 over its fat surface, which, moreover, felt cold. 
 
 The gold-medal pigs of Mr. Morlaiid^ marked 
 
 improved Chilton breed/^ were even in a worse 
 condition than those belonging to His Royal High- 
 ness : their months lay open^ and their nostrils 
 
 dilated at each inspiration. These animals the 
 judges highly commended.-^^ 
 
 When/^ says Mr. Gant^ I contrasted the enor- 
 mous bulk of each animal with the short period in 
 which so much fat or flesh had been produced, I 
 certainly indulged in a physiological reflection on the 
 high-pressure work against time which certain internal 
 organs, such as the stomach, liver, heart, and lungs, 
 must have undergone at such a very early age.^^ He 
 therefore determined to follow the animals up after 
 death, which he accordingly did, removing the hearts, 
 livers, and lungs of the various prize beasts from the 
 different slaughter-houses where he had seen them 
 killed, and submitting them to a careful examination, 
 the results of which will perhaps serve to shake the 
 too prevalent idea of the public, that the thicker the 
 fat the better the flesh.-’^ 
 
 The first animal he examined was a fat wether 
 belonging to the Duke of Richmond. The heart of 
 this animal weighed ten and a half ounces ; its 
 external surface was very soft, greasy, and of a dirty 
 brownish-yellow colour. . . . On opening the two ven- 
 tricular cavities, their external surface and substance 
 
OH^ THE KOAST BEEF OF OLD ENGLAND ! 163 
 
 were equally soft^ greasy^ and yellow througliout — 
 an appearance due to the infusion of fat between the 
 muscular fibres^ of which the heart should chiefly 
 consist. This substitution of fat for muscle is proved 
 by the microscope^ to have ensued^ for ivlien examined^ 
 the muscular fibres no longer presented the character istic 
 cross markings {stricje of anatomists), but the fibrillce 
 within the fibres lucre entirely broken up by bright 
 globules of fat. The healthy structure of the heart 
 had^ therefore^ thoroughly degenerated by its conver- 
 sion into fat.^^ Another fat wether^ bred by Lord 
 Berners^ had a heart degenerated into fat^ a gorged 
 liver/^ flabby lungs/^ with nodules of the size of 
 a kidney-bean imbedded in them.-’^ 
 
 Mr. Morland^s ^‘'improved Chilton breed pig had 
 an enlarged left ventricle^ a liver of a dark livid 
 colour^ while the veins of the left lobe of the liver 
 were congested. The Prince ConsorPs Devon heifer 
 presented a heart with the substance of both ventricles 
 completely degenerated into fat.^^ The Earl of 
 Leicester's three-year-old Devon ox had an equally 
 fat heart. A short-horned ox^ ^^the best in any of 
 the class/^ had a heart whose left ventricle ^^had 
 undergone conversion into fat.^^ One spot near the 
 apex of the left ventricle diad given way, a-nd a blunt 
 probe could be readily introduced through the substance 
 of the ventricle almost into the cavity the thin lining 
 of the cavity alone preventing the instantaneous death 
 of the animal. The ^^best beast/^ a Devon ox^ bred 
 by the Prince Consort^ presented a heart partially 
 converted into fat ; the intestines, within about a foot 
 M 2 
 
164 OH^ THE EOAST BEEF OF OLD ENGLAND! 
 
 of the termination of the lower bowel^ presenting 
 fatty-like mass/^ 
 
 Such were the pathological discoveries made by Mr, 
 Gant in his examination of the viscera only. The 
 conclusion that gentleman comes to — a conclusion in 
 which he is strengthened by the testimony of Mr. 
 Quekett — is^ that the conversion of the heart into fat 
 is the most prominent disease and the unfailing 
 result produced by our present system of rearing and 
 feeding stock. 
 
 Against this most important conclusion it will be 
 vain^ however^ for the butcher to battle. The com- 
 mon sense of the country must see that a beast with 
 a spoiled heart* cannot be a healthy one; that the 
 unworkable heart and oppressed lungs can only 
 languidly circulate unhealthy blood ; and that the 
 various tissues built up out of the vitiated life-fluid 
 must be unwholesome and void of those nutritious 
 qualities which^ at present^ they are supposed to pos- 
 sess in an eminent degree. Now that fattening for the 
 wasteful grease-pot is condemned by benevolence^ and 
 the last word of science^ we trust to see prize beasts 
 grow small by degrees and beautifully less;^^ and if 
 the exertions of Mr. Gant should lead to this result^ 
 he will deserve the thanks of the country^ for it is of 
 the utmost importance that healthy meat be supplied to 
 a nation like ourselves^ which depends for its strength 
 upon its proper supply of animal food. Indeed_, 
 we are glad to see that in the last Agricultural Show 
 there was a tendency to give the prizes to good points 
 rather than to the mere obesity we have condemned. 
 
MUDIE’S CIECULATING LIBEAEY. 
 
 Twenty years is sufficient in these days entirely to 
 revolutionize any speciality^ trade_, or profession^, or 
 indeed_, for the matter of that_, any mundane thing. 
 If in our youth we had been asked to point out a 
 particularly sleepy occupation on a level with the 
 exertions of a genteel and advanced spinsterhood^ we 
 should have reverted instinctively to the circulating 
 library whose spiriting was generally performed by 
 some meagre and somewhat sharp-visaged virgin in 
 spectacles. The flow of well-thumbed Action which 
 she mildly regulated never gave signs of an uncon- 
 trollable exuberance of life_, and the books of travel 
 or adventure she dispensed speedily^ became fossilized 
 on her shelves. The circulating library of those days 
 was a thing outside the bustlings active sphere of 
 trade — a quiet eddy, as it were, in which placid 
 minds took refuge. In these days, how^ever, when 
 the demands of society create such numberless 
 new schemes, and erect into flrst-class occupations 
 what were before insignificant handicrafts ; when 
 match-making has arrived at the dignity of a great 
 manufacture, a single employer often consuming 
 
166 
 
 MUDIE^S CIRCULATING LIBRARY. 
 
 annually a dozen shiploads of timber_, and great 
 fortunes are made out of steel pens^ is it to be 
 wondered at that the spirit of enterprize has pene- 
 trated even into the sleepy old circulating library^ 
 and transformed it at once into a very mill-race of 
 literary life ? 
 
 Standing the other day at the counter at Mudie^s^ 
 where the Subscribers exchange their books^ we were 
 a witness of the transformation one enterprizing and 
 intelligent man has wrought in this branch of trade. 
 The constant flood of people that are discharged 
 from broughams and chariots into this emporium of 
 books reminds one more of the Pantheon than of a 
 mere circulating library. Doyle^ in his Sketches of 
 Society/'’ has surely overlooked this famous sketching 
 ground. If an artist could photograph the eager faces 
 that throng the long counters of this establishment^ 
 he would be enabled to give us a rare picture-gallery 
 of intelligence. 
 
 But in order to obtain a true idea of the importance 
 this great circulating library has obtained as an 
 educational element in society^ we had better get an 
 insight into the machinery by which the reading world 
 is now so plentifully supplied with knowledge. Let 
 us begin by saying that Mudie^s Library^ since its 
 commencement^ has issued to its subscribers not less 
 than 1^263^000 volumes — it is true^ a vast number of 
 these in duplicates ; nevertheless^, they represent the 
 amount of reading issued to the public by one 
 establishment alone. 
 
 At the present moment the establishment owns no 
 
MUDIE^S CIRCULATING LIBRARY. 167 
 
 less than 800^000 volumes. If all these were to come 
 home to roost at one time^ it would require a library 
 almost as big as the British Museum to hold them. 
 As it is_, the house is one mass of books. Upstairs 
 are contained the main reserves from which supplies 
 are drafted for the grand saloon downstairs. This 
 room is itself a sight. It is not a mere store-room^ 
 but a hall^ decorated with Ionic columns^ and such as 
 would be considered a handsome assembly-room in 
 any provincial town. The walls require no ceramic 
 decorations^, for they are lined with books_, which 
 themselves glow with colour. Here^ perchance^ a 
 couple of thousand volumes of ^^Livingstone^s Travels 
 glow with green ; there stands a wall of light blue^ 
 representing the supply of some favourite novel ; 
 then_, again^ a bright red hue running half across the 
 room testifies to the enormous demand for some work 
 of adventure. Light iron galleries give access to the 
 upper shelves^ and an iron staircase leads to other 
 books deposited in the well-lit^ well-warmed vaults 
 below. Light trucks are perpetually circulating about 
 from room to room laden with books. Then^ again^ 
 the spectator sees solid stacks of books piled about 
 in odd places^ just as he sees bricks stored near some 
 rising building. 
 
 Descending into the vaults^ he finds the shelves 
 laden with parcels of books in their cerements of 
 brown paper : these are the books that have already 
 been read. They are not^ however_, as yet considered 
 dead, as upon the issue of new works by their authors 
 (supposing they be popular ones), they rise again, and 
 
168 
 
 MUDIE^S CIKCULATING LIBEAEY. 
 
 live for a time a renewed life. Some^ however^ are 
 utterly past and gone : there^ in a huge pile^ for 
 instance^ lies a large remnant of the 2^,000 copies of 
 Essays and Reviews/^ originally issued to sub- 
 scribers, the demand for which has almost entirely 
 ceased; not far off are the exhausted 1,000 copies of 
 the famous Qitarterly number in which the Essays 
 were answered. 
 
 But there are still rooms in which books out of 
 demand are being made up for sale, to go the round 
 of country circulating libraries, ere they are finally 
 at peace. We were curious to inquire if volumes 
 ever became exhausted in Mr. Mudie^s hard service. 
 Broken backs and torn leaves are treated in an 
 infirmary, and volumes of standard value come 
 out afresh in stouter and more brilliant binding 
 than ever. 
 
 There is, however, such a thing as a charnel-house 
 in this establishment, where literature is, as it were, 
 reduced to its old bones. Thousands of volumes thus 
 read to death are pitched together in one heap. But 
 would they not do for the butterman ? was our natural 
 query. Too dirty for that. Nor for old trunks? 
 Much too greasy for that. What were they good 
 for, then ? For manure ! Thus, when worn out 
 as food for the mind, they are put to the service 
 of producing food for our bodies ! 
 
 The machinery by which all these books are 
 distributed over the leno^th and breadth of the 
 
 O 
 
 three kingdoms — and even to France and Germany 
 — equally partakes of the wholesale style in which 
 
MUDIE^S CIRCULATING LIBRARY. 
 
 169 
 
 everything is done in this establishment. Of old_, 
 it was thought a great thing to be able to get a 
 supply of a dozen books at a time from a library, 
 but Mr. Mudie sends whole libraries at once to 
 some subscribers. Thus for the highest class sub- 
 scription a hundred new books are despatched, and 
 changed as often as required. This liberal arrange- 
 ment has entirely superseded half the labour of 
 country book-clubs, athenaeums, and literary societies. 
 Instead of buying their books, they get them in 
 the gross from Mr. Mudie, and of course can afford 
 to supply their readers with a much larger number 
 than they did of old for the same money. 
 
 It must not be supposed that this great lending 
 library is constituted on the principle of the inferior 
 ones we have been so long accustomed to, where the 
 bulk of the volumes consists of novels. This class of 
 literature scarcely amounts to a third of the volumes 
 circulated by Mr. Mudie. The great majority are 
 composed of books of travel, adventm*e, biography, 
 history, scientific works, and all the books of genre — 
 as they say in painting — which are sought for by 
 the public. 
 
 We can perhaps give a better idea of the nature of 
 the most popular works by mentioning the circulation 
 obtained by some of them. Macaulay had the honour 
 of first bringing before the public the system of Mr. 
 Mudie. In December, 1855, when vols. hi. and iv. 
 of his History of England were published, it was 
 announced that 2,500 copies were at once supplied to 
 this library. The public looked on in astonishment : 
 
170 MUDIE^S CIRCULATING LIBRARY. 
 
 it was the number contained in many a respectable 
 library. This number has^ however^ been far sur- 
 passed since. Of Livingstone^s Travels in Africa^^ 
 3^250 copies were in circulation at one time. Here 
 there was a union of religious readers and those fond 
 of scientific travel and adventure^ and at the lowest 
 calculation not less than 30^,000 readers must have been 
 introduced to the work of the great South African 
 traveller through the medium of this establishment. 
 This alone is fame to a moderate man. 
 
 People are very fond of saying' that nobody reads 
 poetry now-a-days ; yet 1^000 copies of Idylls of 
 the King were necessary to supply the demand for 
 Tennyson^s last new book. M^Clintock^s ^‘‘Voyage 
 in Search of Franklin was another great success : 
 3^000 volumes were atone time reading. Avery 
 singular illustration of the effect of theological contro- 
 versy upon a book was made evident when Essays 
 and Eeviews were first published^ inasmuch as fifty 
 copies remained for some little time unread upon the 
 shelves. As the idea arose that they were a little 
 naughty^ the demand began to increase^ until ulti- 
 mately Mr. Mudie had to place 2^000 copies in his 
 library. 
 
 As a rule^ novels have a short life^ and not a merry 
 one. We must except^, however^ some of the very first 
 class^ such as those of Miss Evans ; 3^000 copies of 
 Silas Marner/^ for instance_, were necessary to supply 
 the demand. Thackeray^ Dickens^, and Trollope are 
 of course always asked foi% and Carlyle and Kingsley, 
 again, seem never out of fashion. 
 
MUDIE^S CIECULATING LIBRARY. 171 
 
 The peculiarities of readers are evinced by the style 
 of their reading : thus one well-known and celebrated 
 man confines himself to the Waverley Novels^ — when 
 
 Count Robert of Paris is done^ beginning again 
 at Waverley. Then there are the sluggish and 
 the omnivorous readers. Many persons will read 
 only one book during their subscription^ whilst one 
 lady^ for her guinea subscription^, read a number 
 of volumes whicli^, if purchased_, would have cost 
 her £200. 
 
 Town subscribers generally change their own books 
 over the counter^ and the bustle of the scene may be 
 imagined when we say that^ on the average^, 1_,000 
 exchanges are effected in the day^ representing not 
 less than 3^000 volumes. Subm^ban subscribers are 
 supplied with their exchanges by cart^ and those living’ 
 in the country have their own boxes ; these are of 
 all sizes_, from those holding four volumes to the 
 monster packages holding one hundred. Upwards 
 of a hundred of these boxes are received and sent 
 out each day. Taken altogether^, no less than 
 10^,000 volumes are circulating diurnally through this 
 establishment. 
 
 The amount of reading this represents is enormous^ 
 and it cannot be denied that_, as an educating power, 
 this great Circulating Library holds no mean posi- 
 tion among the better classes of society. Its value 
 to authors, moreover, cannot be lightly estimated, 
 inasmuch as its machinery enables a bountiful supply 
 of their works to be distributed to the remotest parts 
 of the island, thereby increasing their reputation in 
 
172 
 
 MUDIE^S CIECULATING LIBEARY. 
 
 an ever- widening circle. What a gulf of time seems 
 to separate us from that age when the only means the 
 great master-minds of our noble craft possessed of 
 making themselves known to the world was that of 
 cringing to some noble debauchee^ or of beslavering 
 a gouty earl in a sycophantish dedication ! 
 
PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 
 
 How many of the good qualities of Englishmen do 
 we owe to our love of games and field-sports ! How 
 many of the splendid empires we have founded in 
 every quarter of the globe have had their root and 
 spring in the tussles at football at Eton^ the annual 
 boatraces on the Thames^ or the cricket-matches on 
 the thousand downs and heaths throughout broad 
 England ! The dominant race of the earth — that 
 race which has already seized upon every unoccupied 
 corner of the worlds and mastered the most thickly 
 peopled — is dominant because it is great and mascu- 
 line^ because its tastes and habits lead to self-reliance^ 
 and because its breeding leads to the development of 
 endurance^ courage^ and pluck. We have been so 
 accustomed to the habits that foster these noble quali- 
 ties that we do not^ we believe^ thoroughly appreciate 
 them — nay^ we do not perceive that a current of 
 opinion has set in among a certain small minority 
 amongst us which^ if carried to its full extent^ would 
 do much to unman the Englishman and to degrade his 
 physical nature to the Continental standard. We 
 have only to look across the Atlantic to see how easily 
 
174 
 
 PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 
 
 the healthy_, jolly^ muscular Englishman can degenerate 
 into the sallow^ dyspeptic_, lantern-jawed Yankee. 
 No doubt the influence of climate has very much to do 
 with this falling-off of the race : at the same time^ it 
 cannot be denied that a very large share of this dete- 
 riorating process is due to the false habits of our 
 descendants themselves. A New England farmer is 
 ruddy enough and stout enough^ but your citizen of 
 New York is so different a creature that we scarcely 
 can recognize him as of the same race. The Phila- 
 delphia Evening Journal, in an admirable article upon 
 the sorry appearance of the American citizen_, thus 
 draws a typical portrait : — 
 
 The incipient man (we take an extreme case) is a thin, frail 
 creature. His face is sharp and sallow, and has a bleared and 
 bilious appearance. His back can be spanned with both hands, and 
 there will be some hand to spare. The muscles of his arm consist 
 of soft, loose lumps, which give to the touch ; his chest, even with 
 the aid of stiff-starched dickey and bulging vest, don’t protrude 
 perceptibly, and never makes the mildest attempt at a heave ; his 
 legs are matters to be implicitly believed in without any solid proof 
 as to their reality. In fact, the last-named members have become 
 so appallingly lean and same-all-the- way-up, that the tailors have 
 established a wide, flabby style of integuments, into which they 
 slip and are lost, the external effect on the casual observer being 
 agreeably deceptive. 
 
 Suck is the picture drawn by one of themselves of 
 an American man ! Out of the solid Englishman^ how 
 comes it that the product is this wretched scarecrow ? 
 The editor himself gives the reply — the body is wholly 
 neglected for the mind ; there is no such thing in the 
 States as manly games. If you were to ask an 
 American to take a constitutional/^ he would stare 
 
PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 
 
 175 
 
 with wonder ; the Yankee schoolboy would think the 
 English lad mad to strain so at football_, or to try his 
 wind in the foot-race or the boat-match. The fairer 
 half of creation across the herring-pond have still 
 further degenerated from the standard of their mothers 
 of England ; flat-breasted^ round-backed^ and rotten 
 before they are ripe/^ to use a vulgar but forcible 
 expression^ instead of beings as was said of Michael 
 Angelovs women^ models of generation/^ they only 
 seem capable of passing on a fast declining race. The 
 breezy ride upon the heathy the long country walk^ 
 the natural attitudes of the maidens of the old country^ 
 are unknown to them^ and we see the result ; they are 
 old women at forty with black teeth and withered 
 frames. 
 
 The New Yorlc Times in an able leader says : — 
 
 The unbalanced despotism of the intellect is the sorest social 
 curse under which we labour in the United States. Sports of all 
 kinds, and especially the hearty athletic sports which develop the 
 body with the brain, and bring forward the sharp, quick, active 
 qualities of what may be termed the “physical” mind in an equal 
 degree with the subtler faculties of ratiocination, have never been 
 encouraged among us as they should have been. Our muscular 
 nature rarely gets a fair chance in our life. We exist by and for 
 the nerves ; and it is no fanciful theory which attributes the 
 sudden excesses and equally sudden relapses of political feeling, 
 the partizan intolerance, and the coquetish impatience of our 
 public life in no small degree to the want of national games and 
 pastimes, mainly joyous and earnest. 
 
 No greater instance of the national importance of 
 physical training could be given than the course the 
 American Civil War is now taking. Notwithstanding 
 the tropical climate in which the Southern soldiers 
 
176 
 
 PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 
 
 have been raised/^ yet their athletic habits and their 
 perpetuation of old English exercises have rendered 
 them far more than a match for the reedy Yankee^ — so 
 much so^ that we have seen them successively con- 
 quering in every engagement^ and performing marches 
 which have completely bewildered and circumvented 
 their enemy_, who, although bred in a colder climate, 
 has ignored all physical training, and has reduced his 
 manhood to the pitiable scarecrow described by the 
 Philadelphia Evening Journal. When, in the hour of 
 a nation^ s agony, it has to appeal to the last resort of 
 battle, the value of physical education becomes but too 
 apparent; and we do not doubt that, in the great 
 struggle we now see being brought to a conclusion 
 in America, the Federals would not have lost honour^ 
 as they most certainly will empire, had they trained 
 themselves for soldiers by the sports and pastimes 
 they should have learned in their youth. 
 
 Whilst Brother Jonathan awakens to a sense of his 
 error, we fear there is a tendency, on the part of the 
 authorities of some of our great schools, to fall off 
 from our good old ways. Dr. Hawtrey, some years 
 since, attempted to abolish the annual cricket-match 
 once played in London by the Etonians ; and now we 
 are given to understand that boating is considered 
 injurious to the rising generation. We have heard it 
 stated by University .authorities that the majority of 
 the boats^ crews that pull in the Oxford and Cam- 
 bridge match are either ruptured or affected with 
 aneurisms ! That a poor weakling may overstrain 
 himself here and there in these trials of strength and 
 
PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 
 
 177 
 
 endurance^ we do not doubt ; but to deny this splendid 
 exercise to the youths of our great schools on account 
 of these exceptional breakdowns^, would be as un- 
 reasonable as to prohibit the use of wine or spirits 
 because Stiggins gets drunk. The universities 
 and the great public schools^ as we have before said, 
 set the fashion of games and sports to the youth of 
 this country ; and we think that medical men should 
 express themselves heartily as to the wrong direction 
 these schools are now taking in these matters. With 
 respect to the more manly sports of the people, there 
 cannot be a doubt that the numerous Acts of Enclo- 
 sure have powerfully affected them for the worse. 
 The humane tendencies of the age have banished all 
 the rougher sports of our ancestors. Pugilism, bull- 
 baiting, bear-baiting, dog-fighting, cock-fighting, 
 have justly gone ; but what have we in their stead ? 
 Physical force is ignored. A boy must not be whipped 
 at school if he has done wrong ; but the enlightened 
 philanthropy of the present day substitutes an impo- 
 sition which gives him a headache ! With all our 
 respect for the philanthropy of the age, we cannot 
 help thinking that, as regards physical education, it 
 has been content to destroy without building up — to 
 push the head at the expense of the thews and sinews ; 
 and to make a clever, sharp lad, instead of a strong, 
 enduring, and self-reliant man. Woe be to England 
 when these qualities shall have departed from her 
 sons ! They may be adepts in all the ologies but 
 they will be no longer the bold, healthy, out-of-door 
 Englishmen y whose good sense springs from their 
 
178 
 
 PHYSICAL EDUCATION. 
 
 sound healthy and whose love of adventure and power 
 over men are learned in their contests with their 
 fellows^ and in the vigorous pursuit of all health- 
 giving exercises. In our opinion Muscular Chris- 
 tianity did not reappear upon the scene a bit too soon^ 
 and we hope it will put to flight the last namby- 
 pamby notions that still linger among some of our 
 authorities at the great schools. 
 
PEATIDTJLENT TEADE MAEKS. 
 
 We have all heard of the tricks of our American 
 cousins — of their wooden hams^ fictitious nutmegs^ 
 and contract boots with the soles pasted on_, and many 
 of us have come to the belief that all the rascality is 
 to be found on the other side of the herring-pond. 
 This doctrine is comfortable^ but unhappily it is not 
 true. We have before us now a Parliamentary Report 
 on Trade Marks and Merchandise Marks^ two subjects 
 on which our own Government lawyers are essaying to 
 legislate. What a seething mass of roguery runs 
 beneath the smooth surface of our so-called civiliza- 
 tion ! If anybody doubts the truth of this remark^ we 
 recommend him to take a turn for an hour at the thin 
 Blue-book before us. Mr. Roebuck^, some time ago^ 
 scared the nation with a recital of the manner in 
 which foreigners were forging the Shefiield trade 
 marks^ and the evidence contained in this Report fully 
 warrants his statement. It appears that we are 
 gradually losing our foreign cutlery and hardware 
 trade in consequence of pirates over the sea. We 
 suffered of old from the Northmen and the Danes who 
 
 N 2 
 
180 
 
 FRAUDULENT TRADE MARKS. 
 
 swept our coasts_, but now they penetrate into the 
 very heart of the country^ and snatch the bread from 
 our working men. Our readers doubtless know that 
 the excellence of our cutlery has long become famous 
 throughout the worlds and also that the seat of that 
 trade is concentrated principally in Sheffield. The 
 excellence of the wares there produced^ is guaranteed 
 by the affixing of certain trade marks upon them by 
 the different manufacturers of eminence belonging to 
 the Cutlers^ Company. Let us instance for example 
 the knives of Rodgers and Son. If the reader pos- 
 sesses a pocket-knife of this maker^ and opens it^ he 
 will see that^ in addition to the naine^ there is a 
 Maltese cross and a plain cross stamped upon the 
 shoulder of the knive. This is the trade mark^ — the 
 endorsement of the firm with respect to its excellence. 
 This trade mark is very valuable : possibly^ the manu- 
 facturer would not sell it for £20^000. There are other 
 trade marks almost equally valuable. An adze-maker 
 will select as his mark or emblem a pipe^ another will put 
 on a hatchet^ another a hon_, a fourth a goat_, according 
 to the class of men whom the tool or implement is 
 likely to reach. The reason why trade marks are 
 stamped on this kind of dry goods is that they are 
 often made for a distant marked where the peasantry 
 can understand a simple emblem_, when they would 
 not be able to read a maker^s name. The Canadian 
 backwoodsman^ for example^, has found that his old 
 adze marked with a pipe was excellent ; he therefore 
 demands a new adze with a similar mark upon it. The 
 name of the maker he may not be able to read 
 
FRAUDULENT TRADE MARKS. 
 
 181 
 
 any more than the savage to whom these goods are 
 sometimes sold. 
 
 Now here a fine field for forgery is open^ and some 
 of our friends across the water have not been long in 
 availing themselves of it. Ramscheid and Solingen^ 
 in North Prussia^ it appears^ are the seats of this 
 nefarious trade. The manufacturers in these towns 
 keep a regular assortment of forged English marks^ 
 and send them out to the order of their customers as a 
 matter of course. The traveller for an English house 
 happening to be in the former town a short time since^ 
 one of the manufacturers observing the name upon his 
 card^ remarked^ ^^That is our trade mark^ too/’ and 
 illustrated his position by pulling down a parcel with 
 the spurious articles thus stamped with the forged 
 mark. He perfectly well ktiew that the article was 
 spurious ; but the roguery had been perpetrated so 
 long, that he absolutely imagined that he had a right 
 to the mark by prescription. No sooner, we are told, 
 does an English trade mark become famous abroad, 
 than the agents for the German houses immediately 
 send word home to have it forged, and within six 
 months a consignment of the spurious article enters 
 the field, at a rate so low that the genuine article is 
 driven out of the market. The roguish Prussian 
 manufacturer not only destroys our Sheffield trade in 
 this way, but he has the audacity to mark the rubbish 
 he sells at a low rate with some celebrated English 
 maker^s name or emblem, and puts the name of his 
 own firm upon a better-class article. He then goes to 
 the customer, and says, Here are the inferior English 
 
182 
 
 FRAUDULENT TRADE MARKS. 
 
 goods at a dear price^ and here is our own make at a 
 cheap one/^ In this manner many of our manu- 
 facturers who used to supply the South American 
 market have been obliged to relinquish the trade. The 
 shipment of these fraudulent goods is managed so 
 adroitly that our foreign customers are sure to fall into 
 the trap. Thus^ for instance^ the goods are sent from 
 abroad to Hull_, and are there transhipped for some 
 foreign market. When they have arrived^ it is adver- 
 tised that so many cases of Kodgers^ cutlery^ or of 
 some other celebrated name^ have just been landed 
 from an English ship. 
 
 As far as Englishmen are concerned^ there is now 
 existing in Sheffield a system of trade marks which 
 prevents piracy. These laws are_, however^ operative 
 only in the county of Hallamshire^ as the district 
 including Sheffield and a radius of six miles around 
 is called ; but outside of Sheffield the only remedy 
 against fraudulent imitations of trade marks is by 
 an injunction and proceedings in Chancery ; and 
 we all know how very unsatisfactory such a method 
 of obtaining justice generally is. The cutlers of 
 London have also a law^ by which the use of the 
 word London'’^ is prohibited to any manufacturer 
 of cutlery residing at a distance of ten miles from 
 St. Paul's; but any article may be stamped with 
 the address of any street in the metropolis^ provided 
 this word be omitted. The purchaser may there- 
 fore be certain that a knife marked London is 
 
 town made."^^ 
 
 But^ it will be asked^ will not the Prussian Govern- 
 
FRAUDULENT TRADE MARKS. 
 
 183 
 
 ment — ^the Government which professes to rule over 
 the best- educated nation in the world — give us a 
 remedy for this abominable system of forgery per- 
 petrated by their manufacturers? Unfortunately^ no. 
 There are excellent laws by which a Prussian can 
 obtain redress against a Prussian for infringing his 
 mark or forging his name^ but this law does not 
 extend to foreigners. On the other side^ the Prussian 
 can obtain justice in England against an English- 
 man committing the like offence ; but then our 
 process of proof is so expensive^ and the result of 
 law-suits is so uncertain_, that foreigners do not care 
 to put our laws in force. It might be otherwise if 
 we had a treaty with the Prussians as we have with 
 France^ where we have absolute protection for the 
 mere fee of registerings which costs only two francs ; 
 but if we hope for a treaty with Prussia^ we must 
 be able to offer them something in exchange for 
 what we get : their Government would rightly say, 
 if we give you the advantage of the cheap Prussian 
 law to protect your manufactureSs we must have 
 something better than your cumbersome English 
 laWs which is practically inoperative to protect 
 us Prussians. This is so reasonable that we trust 
 the Bill about to be brought into Parliament will 
 give us some cheap method of registration of 
 trade marks which will protect us at home_, and 
 by reciprocity abroad^, from the frauds of piratical 
 manufacturers. 
 
 But we must not grow Pharisaical and thank God 
 that we are not as other men^ for the pages of this 
 
184 
 
 FEAUDULENT TEADE MAEKS. 
 
 very Blue-book unfortunately prove that we have 
 just as much roguery going on in our tight little 
 island as can be found abroad. We have all heard^ 
 for instance^ of an operation called shaving the 
 ladies/^ yet we doubt if any lady is aware of the 
 very clean shave she is constantly undergoing. If 
 she is accustomed to frequent cutting shops/^ where 
 the stock is periodically thrown into a state of con- 
 vulsions in its efforts to sell itself off^ of course she 
 expects to be done ; but possibly she does not know 
 that for years the trade in small wares/^ as it is 
 termed^ has been losing its conscience in the most 
 remarkable manner. There is^ in shorty a regular 
 conspiracy to cheat between the manufacturers and 
 the great wholesale dealers. If a lady^ for instance^ 
 buys a reel of cotton marked a hundred yards^ she 
 imagines^ possibly^ that she gets that quantity. Miser- 
 able delusion ! There are not more than seventy. All 
 goods^ again^ that are sold in the piece^ run short : 
 
 short-stick/^ in fact^ is a slang term for insufficient 
 lengths. 
 
 Some of the wholesale middlemen will send up 
 labels to the manufacturer indicating false lengths^, 
 and they are put on^ as a matter of course^ by many 
 spinners. The Britisher is thus cheated out of 30 
 per cent, of his goods : but that is nothing to the 
 way in which the Yankees plunder. Thus they will 
 forge some well-known name^ say in thready and 
 they will keep lowering the lengths on the reels from 
 seventy until they touch thirty yards only^ still 
 retaining the hundred-yards Label. In this manner 
 
FRAUDULENT TRADE MARKS. 
 
 185 
 
 a good name is ^‘'run to death.^^ Then a fresh one 
 is -selected^ and brought into discredit in a similar 
 manner. 
 
 Of old there used to be five hundred pins in a 
 packet : now there are often only two hundred. 
 Articles marked worsted/^ again^ often have 95 
 per cent, of cotton in them. The loss, it must be 
 observed, always falls on the ultimate purchaser, as 
 many of the articles cannot be unwound to be mea- 
 sured without being spoilt. 
 
 We can understand a petty tradesman perpetrating 
 these contemptible frauds ; but what shall we think of 
 the integrity of British merchants, when we find that 
 it is not at all an uncommon thing for them to send 
 up to the manufacturers labels imitating those used 
 by excellent makers, and stipulating that they shall 
 be affixed to inferior goods of other makers? The 
 Merchandise Marks Bill is aimed at this organized 
 system of frauds perpetrated on our wives and 
 daughters. 
 
 We may not be very deeply moved at the ladies 
 being cleanly shaved, but the male Briton will not 
 fail to feel indignant at the frauds perpetrated on his 
 bitter beer. It will possibly be new to the public 
 that Bass does not bottle his own ale, but sells it in 
 barrels, and supplies his customers with a sufficient 
 number of labels marked with his trade mark (a 
 red triangle) for the quantity of bottles which the 
 cask will fill. So far, good ; but these labelled 
 bottles henceforth become the vehicles for a series of 
 frauds. The publican round the corner, who supplies 
 
186 
 
 FEAUDULENT TEADE MAEKS. 
 
 you^ good reader^, with your daily pint of Bass^ stipu- 
 lates for the return of the empty bottles^ that he may 
 fill them again with salted^ sugared^ filthy Burton ; 
 and again and again it is done_, as long as the famous 
 ^^red triangle will keep decently clean upon the 
 bottles. This is a matter which touches the thirsty 
 Briton^ and he should see to it. Mr. Bass evidently 
 is unwittingly lending himself to a most detestable 
 cheat. Imagine^ good reader^ the basket from 
 Bunkum & Pottos at your next picnic duly unpacked 
 by the river- side in the charming month of June^ 
 and the tumblers held out by thirsty souls to John in 
 attendance_, only to receive^ instead of the charming, 
 sparkling pale ale, sweet and clammy public-house 
 beer ! Would transportation be sufficient punishment 
 for the rascal who had done that thing ? It seems to 
 us that if the labels were pasted over the cork, instead 
 of on the bottles, and if the forging of this label were 
 made a misdemeanour, punishable with imprisonment, 
 as the Merchandise Marks Bill proposes, we might 
 still rest in security as to the integrity of our Bass. 
 As it is, even your black servant in India knows that 
 he can get more for an empty labelled bottle than 
 for a plain one, and thus the swindle circulates round 
 the world. 
 
 If we turn to arms, again, we find fraud pursuing 
 us. Mr. Westley Richards complains that common 
 rifles are stamped with his name, and sent into the 
 market as genuine articles ; and but too often the 
 purchaser gets his hand blown off. It is* always the 
 English gentleman who has to pay the penalty of the 
 
FRAUDULENT TRADE MARKS. 
 
 187 
 
 fraud. We recommend this particular instance_, there- 
 fore^ to the attention of the sporting members of the 
 House of Commons^, and it will doubtless go some 
 way towards obtaining their hearty concurrence in a 
 measure which will put down a growing system of 
 fraud which is sapping the integrity of the working 
 and mercantile classes of the country. 
 
ADYIGE BY A EETIEED PHYSICIAN. 
 
 When Rowland Hill invented the penny postage- 
 stamp^ and put in circulation the smallest paper- 
 money in existence^ he little thought the evil uses to 
 which his admirable idea would be turned. He little 
 anticipated that ingenious gentlemen^ who roam about 
 seeking wRom they may devour^ would^ through its 
 agency^ manage to live upon the public in princely 
 style, their whole stock-in-trade being an advertise- 
 ment in the paper ! In an article published some 
 time since we drew attention to the alluring advertise- 
 ment of A Retired Clergyman who was anxious to 
 make the public acquainted with a recipe for nervous 
 disorders — the trifling sum of six postage-stamps 
 being all he asked in return for his invaluable advice. 
 Rut now the retired clergyman gives place to an 
 aged figure, such as we used to see in the frontispiece 
 of didactic volumes of a quarter of a century since in 
 the form of a venerable hermit dispensing to youth 
 the health- giving mountain herb, as thus — 
 
 A EETIEED PHYSICIAN, whose sands of life have nearly 
 run out, discovered, while in the East Indies, a Certain Cure 
 for Consumption, Asthma, Bronchitis, Coughs, Colds, and general 
 debility. The remedy was discovered by him when his only child, 
 
ADVICE BY A EETIRED PHYSICIAN. 
 
 189 
 
 a daughter, was given up to die. He had heard much of the 
 vfonderful restorative and healing qualities of preparations made 
 from the East Indian Hemp, and the thought occurred to him that 
 he might make a remedy for his child. He studied hard, and 
 succeeded in realizing his wishes. His child was cured, and is 
 now alive and w^ell. He has since administered the wonderful 
 remedy to thousands of sufferers in all parts of the world, and 
 he has never failed in making them completely healthy and happy. 
 AVishing to do as much good as possible, he will send to such of 
 his afflicted fellow-beings as request it, this Recipe, with full and 
 explicit directions for making it up and successfully using it. He 
 requires each applicant to enclose him six stamps — one to be 
 returned as postage on the recipe, and the remainder to be applied 
 to the payment of this advertisement. — Address, &c. 
 
 Charming picture ! Admirable devotion of a green 
 old age to the miseries (and postage-stamps) of a 
 suffering public ! This sage^ whose sands of life 
 have ne^arly run out/^ and who studied hard to save 
 his child^ and happily succeeded through the instru- 
 mentality of Indian hemp^ should by no means hide 
 his light under a bushel — the whole race of poor 
 afflicted creatures^ consumptive^ asthmatic^ bronchitic, 
 and generally debilitated, have only to apply by letter 
 at once to his mossy cell in that health-giving neigh- 
 bourhood, Street, Strand, and so they will be 
 
 cured. Behold, every morning this advertisement 
 flies, on the wings of the press, to the firesides of 
 hundreds of thousands of our countrymen, whose 
 Arcadian simplicity with respect to quack medicines 
 is too deep to fathom : over this simple crew this 
 venerable old fisher of men casts his net — and what is 
 the daily result? YV^atch the postman drop his bag at 
 the door of the Retired Physician. Can there be 
 
190 
 
 ADVICE BY A EETIRED PHYSICIAN. 
 
 more tlian one letter for tlie aged recluse? Is the 
 man whose sands of life are nearly run troubled 
 with a plentiful correspondence ? There are hundreds 
 of letters^ and every letter comes laden with its 
 due complement of postage-stamps. The receipts of 
 this aged individual from this source are known to 
 average £10 per day ; and this is not the whole of 
 the contribution of the public to this deeply interesting 
 individual. The receipt for the preparation of Indian 
 hemp is duly sent ; but^ as in the case of the Eetired 
 Clergyman/^ the recipient^ not being able to make 
 anything of it_, adopts the accompanying suggestion to 
 send it for concoction to a certain quarter : here the 
 second fleecing process begins ; and w^here it ends we 
 scarcely like to say. We are informed that the aged 
 physician^ whose sands of life are nearly run/^ is a 
 hale and hearty American_, who proposes to open 
 another health- giving fount in the French capital^ 
 now that he flnds himself firmly established with a 
 princely income in the metropolis. 
 
 Thus the world wags. Scores of well-educated 
 medical men are at this moment reduced to starvation- 
 pointy and one quack is wallowing in wealth. Is it 
 not infamous that respectable papers should give 
 insertion to such an advertisement ? Can any person 
 be deceived as to its character? Can there be a 
 doubt that it is intended to defraud ? HoWy theUy we 
 asky is it possible that honest men can consent day by 
 day to put such palpably fraudulent announcements 
 into circulation ? The public health we make such a 
 stir about is as the fat pasture-ground on which design- 
 
ADVICE BY A RETIEED PHYSICIAN. 
 
 191 
 
 ing quacks feed without let or hindrance — nay^ with 
 the approval of the Government^, and often with the 
 support of the Judges. 
 
 If the person calling himself a Retired Physician 
 were to kill any of his dupes by his doses of Indian 
 hemp_, was in consequence put upon his trials are not 
 all the chances in favour of the judge recommending 
 his acquittal in consequence of his ignorance ? It is 
 really monstrous that the most deadly poisons should 
 be prescribed wholesale^ through the medium of 
 advertisements^ by persons without any legal title to 
 do so. We question if there are half a dozen physi- 
 cians in London who can boast so large an income as 
 this Retired Physician/^ whose whole knowledge 
 and stock-in-trade is summed up in a cunningly- 
 written advertisement. The proper punishment for 
 this gentleman^ whose sands of life are nearly run/^ 
 would be a sound outward application of good English 
 hemp to his own person. 
 
SUPERSTITION: WHERE DOES IT END? 
 
 A TOWN-BRED man can scarcely credit the fact that 
 a wise man dwells in nearly every village^ and 
 that witches and wizards are stilly in the belief of the 
 country folk^ as plentiful as blackberries. The letters 
 which appeared from day to day in the TimeSy a few 
 years back^ describing the bewitching of farm* stocky 
 the carrying off of wives through the air on broom- 
 sticks by the agents of the Prince of Darkness^ and 
 a thousand other vagaries of this nature^ startled 
 the reader^ and seemed as much out of place beside 
 ordinary humdrum ideas^, as a piece of old tapestry 
 would beside the silks and tabarets of our drawing- 
 rooms. Those who know the country are startled by 
 no such revelations : the peasant-mind^ they are well 
 aware_, is not much advanced from the condition it 
 was during the Middle Ages ; and^ for all we can see_, 
 certain classes of great towns are not a whit more 
 advanced than is poor Hodge. Looking over our 
 commonplace book the other day^ we came on a 
 notable instance of this in the shape of a newspaper 
 cutting containing an application made at the 
 Worship Street Police Office^ when a lady-like 
 
superstition: where does it end? 193 
 
 woman^ dressed in mourning/^ appeared before Mr. 
 D^Eyncourt^ tlie sitting magistrate, and charged 
 Sarah Macdonald, a middle-aged woman, living in 
 Bethnal Green, with obtaining various sums of money 
 from her, for pretending to take away a spell that 
 had been put upon her.^^ 
 
 In the course of the examination, the Magistrate 
 very naturally asked why she went to her at all, when 
 the following dialogue took place, which must be 
 rather startling to those who believe in the march of 
 intellect : — 
 
 Witness. — Why, sir, she lays out the cards, and, indeed, is very 
 clever with them. I had heard that she was clever in that way 
 before ; but I had not found that she had the power of relieving 
 persons from torment by burning powders till then. 
 
 Mr. D’Eyncourt. — Why, what was the matter with you ? 
 
 Witness. — Why, sir, I had such frightful pains, all cutting, 
 shooting, pricking, and darting through my head and body. 
 
 Mr. D’Eyncourt. — Why did you not go to some medical 
 gentleman about the pains you speak of ? 
 
 Witness. — I did, sir ; I was under Dr. Ramsbottom, and I asked 
 him if he did not think they were caused by a spell, and he said 
 no, he thought not. He gave me some medicine, and for some 
 time I got better ; but I afterwards became worse from the 
 prickings, and then, as I told you, I went to Mrs. Macdonald, 
 She said, You appear very ill and I told her that I was. We 
 had some conversation about it, and she then told me that a 
 person was doing me an injury, and said, “ If you have some of my 
 powders, they will relieve you ; but they are sixpence apiece.” I 
 told her, of course, that I did not mind that, and she therefore 
 burned ten of them. 
 
 Mr. D’Eyncourt. — Then she did not give them to you to take 
 home ? 
 
 Witness. — Oh, no, of course not. She put them into the fire 
 before my face, and they all cracked, blazed, burned, and 
 bounced. 
 
 0 
 
194 SUPEESTITION : WHERE DOES IT EED ? 
 
 Mr. D’Eyncourt. — What object did she say they were intended 
 to effect ? 
 
 Witness. — Oh, she said they would torment the person who 
 was injuring me. ^ 
 
 Mr. Safford, the Clerk. — And did you feel any better from the 
 powders being administered in that way ? 
 
 Witness. — Oh, yes, I did feel better ; but, mind, I don’t believe 
 that it lies so much in the powders as in the words she uses. I 
 think it’s what she says when she burns them that does you good. 
 
 Mr. D’Eyncourt. — Indeed ! then, what were the words she 
 said ? 
 
 Witness. — Oh, I don’t know ; she took care that I should not 
 hear those, or, of course, I should be as wise as herself. She did 
 not even mutter them. 
 
 Mr. Safford. — Then, there was no incantation ? 
 
 Witness. — Why, no. 
 
 Mr. D’Eyncourt. — Well, then, have you brought her here 
 because you feel better, or what ? 
 
 Witness. — Oh, no ; I feel worse again — worse every day. I only 
 felt better the first time I went. The fact is, that I have a relative 
 who is coming into a large property, and she wants to get rid of 
 me ; so she goes to Mrs. Macdonald and has powders the same as 
 I do, and, of course, they torment me whenever Mrs. Macdonald 
 burns them for her. She knows that’s true, too ; for when I went 
 another time, she told me that the knowledge got made her so ill, 
 that she was obliged to leave her husband’s side in the middle of 
 the night, and burn a powder, to get rid of the torments that she 
 herself suffered from it. 
 
 Mr. Safford — And how often did you go to her ? 
 
 Witness. — Oh, seven or eight times, I should think. 
 
 It may be imagined that this precious exhibition 
 of superstitions feelings which some people believed 
 passed away with the age of Elizabeth and James 
 is to be ascribed to the weak nerves of a poor old 
 lady ; but^ singular to state^ the same story was told 
 by the daughter^ a buxom young girl of eighteen^ 
 who^ like her mother^ used to indulge in her shilling's- 
 
superstition: where does it end? 195 
 
 worth now and tlien^ to take away her spells/^ and 
 who equally believed with her mother in the witches 
 power to avert them_, but doubted her will to do 
 so. The Magistrate — no doubt with some signs of 
 astonishment in his face — inquired of the officer 
 if there were many persons who believed in the 
 prisoner's powers^ and received the significant reply^ 
 
 There are a great number^ sir^ who believe this 
 and the prisoner_, deprecating her own powers^ added^ 
 
 They believe that I can bewitch the dead_, but 
 I canT.^^ 
 
 Now^ here is a pretty dish to set before those 
 enthusiasts who prate about the spread of universal 
 intelligence^ and believe Comus has long since dashed 
 to pieces his crystal glass and thrown away his wand, 
 at the awful call of national schools, penny papers, 
 and mechanics^ institute lectures ! It will, no doubt, 
 be said that these things occur in the lower ranks 
 of life, and that we should not measure the gullibility 
 of the age by the belief of coppersmiths^ wives living 
 in Bethnal Green or Stepney. But have we a right 
 to smile thus patronizingly at the follies of the lower 
 classes ? Have not the pages of the public press 
 teemed with the advertisements of persons who pro- 
 fess to delineate the character by merely looking at 
 the handwriting of their dupe ? Are not people told 
 that, for twelve postage-stamps and a specimen of 
 their caligraphy, a sketch of their future fate will 
 be returned ? Is not Napoleoffis Book of Fate 
 sold in this country by hundreds of thousands ? Our 
 middle classes may not absolutely believe that spells 
 0 2 
 
196 
 
 SUPERSTITION : WHERE DOES IT END ? 
 
 can be put upon tbem^ like this poor woman ; but 
 the belief in the mysterious^ however absurd^ is more 
 rampant than most people dare acknowledge. Table- 
 turning and spirit-rapping have not yet disappeared 
 before the stern rebuke of Professor Faraday ; and^ 
 for all we know^ there are scores of clergymen who 
 still believe^ with the sage priest of Bath^ that by 
 these means the devil seeks to corrupt us. 
 
 But let us ask^ has not this belief in the burning of 
 a powder something very analogous to another belief 
 that is chiefly to be found in the highest places ? The 
 wife of the Stepney coppersmith tells us that she 
 did feel better for the burning of those powders, 
 which were admitted to be composed of common 
 salt ; and have we a right to laugh at her, when 
 my lady who resides in Grosvenor Square, and 
 has had the advantage of the first masters in all the 
 languages and ologies, declares that she has been 
 cured of a complaint, which defied the treatment of 
 a score of doctors of the old school, by the simple 
 exhibition of the decillionth of a grain of lobelia ? 
 The poor woman who threw the powder of salt into 
 the fire, no doubt did her patient quite as much good 
 under the circumstances as the fashionable homoeo- 
 pathic doctor would have done ; for the learned doctor, 
 like the Bethnal Green witch, depends upon the pro- 
 found credulity of human nature. But the latter is the 
 petted of a hundred good families, and lives on the fat 
 of the land ; the other is liable, when found out, to 
 be committed to jail for six months ! Can educated 
 men forget, without mingled shame and indignation. 
 
SUPERSTITION: WHERE DOES IT END? 197 
 
 that the breath of fashion has not yet grown cold 
 upon table-turning and spirit-rapping ? Can the 
 clergy — that class which prides itself upon being the 
 best-educated portion of the community — obliterate 
 the fact that two of their body^ highly respected 
 among their respective flocks^ printed and published 
 pamphlets^ in which they endeavoured to prove that 
 the devil actually possessed tables^ and gave responses 
 to the questions of any idle rapper^ with the purpose^ 
 of course^ of destroying immortal souls ? 
 
 But the contagion does not stop even at the foot- 
 steps of the Throne. We all remember the bit of 
 scandal — which^ after all^ was only too true — touching: 
 the superstitious belief of the Empress Eugenie. 
 She was said to have been so profoundly moved hj 
 the manipulations of Mr. Home (who^ it was asserted^ 
 had the power of showing distant events and persons 
 in a large mirror) that the Emperor banished him 
 from the capital. We very much Avondered at the 
 time that the magic mirror never made its appearance 
 in this metropolis. The idea was far too good to be** 
 lost upon persons who cater for those having an 
 appetite for the supernatural ; and after the lapse of a 
 few years it turns up again^ but this time in the shape> 
 of a crystal sphere^ and now Zadkiel the Prophet is. 
 its possessor. There is a set of people in this country 
 who constitute what is called society. To be in 
 society you must be somebody; and among the 
 great somebodies this new ball of human credulity was 
 set a rolling. It is said to have formerly belonged to 
 Lady Blessington ; and Zadkiel always on the look- 
 
198 SUPEESTITTON .* WHEEE DOES IT END ? 
 
 out for stuffed crocodiles^ witches^ fingers^, and such 
 
 fixings as became the study of an astrologer^ 
 eagerly snapped it up. Have we not all blushed to 
 hear how bishops^ archdeacons^ canons^ marchionesses^ 
 and ladies of title without end^ invited Zadkiel to call 
 upon them with his magic ball^ and tell them what 
 was being done thousands of miles away^ what would 
 be done thousands of years to come^ and what was 
 done anywhere or any time ago ? Those fine ladies 
 and gentlemen moving in society’^ pretended to 
 invite the astrologer to show his crystal sphere 
 only as a scientific curiosity ; but this explanation 
 imposed upon no one^ and the country indulged for 
 a moment in a spasm of wonder at the discovery 
 of this belief in the supernatural on the part of the 
 aristocracy. 
 
 Well may the philosopher^ peeping from the loop- 
 holes of retreat^ inquire what advantages the favoured 
 of the land possess over the simple peasant^ and scorn- 
 fully ask if station_, birth^ and opportunities are of 
 no more avail than to plunge their possessors into 
 a darkness only different in kind to that which pos- 
 •sesses the clodhoppers of the fields. The lady who 
 believes that some spiritual essence^ beyond earthly 
 comprehension^ streams at the ends of the languishing 
 young curators fingers^ as he makes his mesmeric 
 passes_, would laugh immoderately at the idea that 
 old Gammer Gurton could ^‘'make the' colt go home/^ 
 or that she could track^, with a fiery dog^ the object 
 of her dislike. Yet^ what is there more absurd in the 
 one belief than in the other ? Why should we con- 
 
SUPEESTITION : WHEEE DOES IT END ? 
 
 199 
 
 demn Betty Smith because she pretended that she had 
 seen Old Dame Switchem talking to her familiars in 
 the shape of mice {vide Times) , whilst we have nothing 
 but interest and sympathy for a crowned head^ who 
 pretends — or at least whose hysterical folly leads her 
 to believe — ^that the future is to her unveiled^ and that 
 she can look into futurity through the instrumentality 
 of a magic mirror ? — or for high-bred ladies who would 
 hide their superstition^ when it is made known to 
 all the worlds under the specious pretence of mere 
 scientific curiosity? 
 
 Truly^ if we try the social scale from top to bottom^, 
 we shall find that the love of the marvellous is con- 
 fined to no degree or station of life. If we may 
 claim any exemption at all^ it must be for scientific 
 men. It is rarely that we find that those well but 
 not exclusively versed in the physical sciences fall 
 dupes to the enormous impostures which we see every 
 day prostrating the ill-trained intellects of fashionable 
 society. Before the simple scientific rebuke of Fara- 
 day^ table-turning fell dead at once. In every circle 
 we find a scientific man^ and that scientific man 
 generally^ raising his voice against every new delusion 
 wliich^, like swallows at the coming of springs seem to 
 be thronging of late years upon us. 
 
 The conclusion we draw from this fact is_, that^ in any 
 new scheme of education which may be promulgated 
 for the benefit of the people_, and for the especial 
 punishment of quacks of all kinds — witches,, spirit- 
 rappers^ and magic-mirror workers included,, — a large 
 share of physical science should be insisted upon. 
 
200 
 
 SUPEESTITION : WHEEE DOES IT END ? 
 
 It is wonderful how ghosts and spirits of all kinds 
 disappear when tried by any chemical tests^ and what 
 a sore trial the inductive philosophy is to all 
 mysticism whatsoever^ and especially that feeblest of 
 all mysticism which exerts such an influence over 
 the many feeble brains moving in society/^ 
 
THE CLEKK OE THE WEATHER 
 
 It is a very common thing to hear the name of the 
 Clerk of the Weather Office taken in vain. That 
 individual has hitherto been a myth_, against whom 
 the objurgations of Englishmen have been levelled 
 time out of mind. If a fine day is desired^ a jocular 
 appeal is made to the kind interference of this ideal 
 personage ; but^ as we well know^ the joke of to-day 
 becomes the fact of to-morrow ; and I have actually 
 seen and conversed with this very myth. If the 
 lounger is on his way to the Abbey^ as he gets 
 towards the end of Whitehall^ he sees before him^ 
 on his left hand_, looking down King Street_, an over- 
 hanging bow window : here is the den or cave of the 
 magician who takes under his care the four winds_, and 
 foretells rain or snow with certainty. Do you wish^, 
 good reader^ to be introduced into this sanctum^ 
 which your imagination furnishes with a stuffed 
 alligator^ a furnace^ a stilly and a venerable old man 
 in a fur robe and a conical cap^ poring over a large 
 book filled with geometrical drawings — a la Zadkiel ; 
 if so^ prepare for something much more prosaic. 
 
202 
 
 THE CLEEK OF THE WEATHEE. 
 
 ^^Tiat is tliis on the door — some abracadabra? No^ 
 simply The Meteorological Office of the Board of 
 Trade/'’ I ask for the Clerk of the Weather; the 
 porter stares^ and asks me if I wish to see Admiral 
 Fitzroy ? It must be the Flying Dutchman^ I inwardly 
 cogitate^ and he must be weather-wise by this time. 
 But the necromancers have grown singularly matter- 
 of-fact and unpictures que. Here are an ordinary 
 office and hall-port ers_, and ordinary clerks at work 
 as I pass^ and ultimately the wind and weather den^ 
 or cave^ is reached^ in which a beneficent Prospero^ 
 if he does not conjure up^ at least foretells all the 
 winds that blow about our island ; and our Prospero 
 is — Admiral Fitzroy. 
 
 When we remember the mighty argosies Britain 
 has at sea_, the army of sailors that tread the salt ooze^ 
 the fearful wrecks that strew our shores^ the imagi- 
 nation is excited to ascertain by what means he fore- 
 warns and forearms man against such fearful vicissi- 
 tudes. What is the machinery by which the ship 
 about to sail is suddenly arrested and returned to 
 port ? by what occult knowledge is the hardy fisher- 
 man forewarned to beach his boat^ and to hang up his 
 unused nets to dry ? Admiral Fitzroy is no necro- 
 mancer ; but the results he works out are more won- 
 derful than even the Professors of the Black Art 
 have ever offered us. His office and its inner rooms 
 are furnished with nothing terrific to see : there are 
 some self-registering barometers hung side by side^ 
 a few Aneroids and thermometers^ and some storm- 
 glasses^ up Avhich the crystal tree I perceive is rapidly 
 
THE CLEEK OF THE WEATHEE. 
 
 203 
 
 growing; before him is a rough pencil-sketch of 
 the British Isles^ and around them are drawn 
 some circular lines : this is a forecast of the direction 
 of the wind that in all probability will blow in a 
 day or two. 
 
 But surely^ asks the reader^ the mere study of the 
 mercury or the weather-glass in a back room in 
 Parliament Street is not sufficient to tell us where the 
 w^eather is breeding we are going to have to-morrow ? 
 Not exactly. But the Admiral is not the only observer. 
 The Department of which he is the intelligent head 
 has posted watchers all round our seaboard^ has 
 supplied them with excellent instruments^ and every 
 day gathers in the crop of information they have 
 gleaned from their distant stations. Thus^ every 
 day comes by telegraph the news of the condition 
 of the atmosphere along the whole circuit of our 
 shores. 
 
 Meteorology is a science that has engaged philo- 
 sophers for centuries ; but it is only since the discovery 
 of the electric telegraph that they have been able to 
 make simultaneously and transmit to head- quarters 
 instantaneously the results of their labours over a wide 
 field of observation. Since this has been done^ 
 immense strides have been made_, and it is rapidly 
 becoming an exact science. This system was first 
 commenced by the Meteorological Department of the 
 Board of Trade,, in Sept.^ 1860. Thus the nation of 
 shopkeepers has been the first to lead the world in a 
 new and most important applied science,, which must 
 ultimately save the lives of thousands of sailors and 
 
204 
 
 THE CLERK OF THE WEATHER. 
 
 boundless wealth, to the merchants. The observers at 
 the out-stations^ which are all situated at seaports of 
 the British Island^ are the telegraph clerks — a very 
 intelligent set of men. The Board of Trade furnishes 
 them with every requisite meteorological instrument, 
 and provides a manual of instruction for their use. In 
 this manner a staff of skilled observers are being 
 drilled in all our important seafaring places. They 
 are instructed to send reports to the central office in 
 Parliament Street twice a day^ at 8 a.m. and 3 p.m., 
 and oftener when any great disturbance of their 
 instruments warrants special notifications to Admiral 
 Fitzroy. These telegrams give in symbolic figures 
 the condition of the barometer and thermometer, wet 
 and dry ; the direction of the wind ; the force of the 
 wind ; the amount of cloud ; the character of weather, 
 and the sea disturbance. Thus the chief is supplied, 
 in a compact form, with all the leading features of the 
 sum he has to work. 'When all the telegrams for the 
 day have arrived, the various corrections for local 
 peculiarities are made, and the condition of the weather 
 is forecast. 
 
 As the knowledge of circular storms is being 
 gradually perfected, the value of this daily sum 
 worked at head- quarters is becoming of the last 
 importance. It is now known that all great hurri- 
 canes move in cyclones or ovals in northern latitudes, 
 giving circling winds from left to right, but moving 
 bodily from the south-west towards the north-east. 
 These cyclones are of all sizes, and they move at 
 a rate sufficiently slow to enable warnings of their 
 
THE CLERK OF THE WEATHER. 
 
 205 
 
 approach to be given to out-ports some time before- 
 hand. The first well-noted cyclone was that known as 
 the Eoyal Charter storm. This hurricane commenced 
 in the south-west^ about the Bay of Biscay^ and 
 finally passed off along the coast of Norway^ sweeping 
 on its way across this island_, and visiting the west^ 
 souths east^ and northern coast with gales which boxed 
 the compass within twenty-four hours. The passage 
 of this great storm has been most accurately rnapped^, 
 and its whole course in every particular worked out 
 in the most perfect manner^ by Admiral Fitzroy and 
 his staff of observers. We may here remark that 
 although these cyclones are often of very limited 
 area^ yet they are due to atmospheric infiuences 
 possibly thousands of miles away. In the same 
 manner the minute eddies of wind which twist about 
 the autumn leaves or dust in our path may be^ and are 
 very often^ the result of opposing winds directed by 
 distant hills or other elevations. The eddies in the 
 stream which we note whirling down a river have been 
 brought about by the piers of the bridge creating 
 diverse currents. The present system of warning our 
 out-ports was not established in October^ 1859^ other- 
 wise that noble ship the Boyal Charter could have 
 been warned of the approach of the gTeat circle of 
 wind at least twenty hours before it swept round upon 
 her^ as she lay at her fatal place of anchorage on 
 a lee shore ; and probably she would have put to sea 
 and been saved. 
 
 Our knowledge that all great winds are circular 
 accounts for a phenomenon that puzzled our fathers — 
 
206 
 
 THE CLEEK OF THE WEATHEE. 
 
 namely_, that a southerly wind is often very cold. The 
 explanation is_, that although the wind may reach 
 us from the souths yet it is in reality a polar wind 
 curved rounds or diverted from its course by opposing 
 currents of air or other causes. 
 
 But to return to our subject : the telegraphic mete- 
 orological communications of common and peaceful 
 conditions of the atmosphere are merely recorded at 
 the head office in order to enable the forecast of the 
 weather to be made. This is published every morning 
 in the Times and other papers. It is rather extraor- 
 dinary that the public have taken such little notice 
 of this the only truly scientific contribution to our 
 morning papers. It cannot be that those reports 
 have proved untrustworthy^ for^ as a rule^ our Clerk 
 of the Weather gives in the most unerring manner 
 all the great changes that are about to happen in the 
 coming three days. 
 
 It is quite clear that to a very large part of our 
 population a daily approximation even to the coming 
 meteorological changes is of the utmost importance. 
 Let us take the agriculturist^ for instance. What a 
 saving it would be to the farmer if he could be fore- 
 warned of the approach of a week of wet or of frost ! 
 The same may be said of all out-of-door trades. 
 Weather affects all of us^ from the landowner down 
 to the costermonger. 
 
 Let us reflect for a moment on the widespread 
 misery that falls upon the poor by even one week of 
 hard and continual frost. Yet^ day by day^ the pos- 
 
THE CLEEK OF THE WEATHER. 
 
 207 
 
 sibility of being surprised by the Ice King is becoming 
 more and more inexcusable as the science of meteor- 
 ology^ as expressed in these weather-tables^ pro- 
 gresses. It is true that the inland districts cannot^ 
 with the same certainty_, be forewarned from the 
 central office of the changes that are likely to take 
 place in the weather as the seaboard can^ for the reason 
 that the irregularities of the land modify the general 
 rules that are gathered from the level ocean surface ; 
 but all the great changes affect land and sea alike_, 
 and local peculiarities can be judged by keeping an 
 eye to the local barometers_, &c. As the science of 
 meteorology progresses^, we feel confident that the 
 forecasts of the weather supplied by Admiral Fitzroy 
 to the public papers will be watched as carefully by 
 all persons dependent upon the condition of the atmo- 
 sphere as they are by the mariner at this moment. 
 As our seafaring population are not in the habit of 
 reading the morning papers^ a special method of 
 notifying to them squalls ahead is adopted. 
 Thus^ a system of signals for use by night and day 
 has been adopted^ and is now in operation in all our 
 principal seaports. 
 
 The form of the signal refers to the direction of the 
 expected wind : thus^ the cone wfith its apex upper- 
 most refers to a north wind_, and the reverse to a 
 southern one^ the simple drum alone_, or square_, gives 
 warning that dangerous winds may be expected from 
 opposite quarters_, whilst the combination of the drum 
 and cone predicts dangerous winds coming at first 
 
208 
 
 THE CLEKK OF THE WEATHEE. 
 
 from tlie quarter indicated by the position of 
 the cone. 
 
 These signals are of large size^ and are hoisted by 
 the telegraph clerks in view of the seafaring com- 
 munity. It is not intended that these signals shall 
 be hoisted except in great and dangerous disturbances 
 of the atmosphere^ as the central office does not 
 attempt to give notice of local changes^ however 
 sudden and dangerous. These should be noted 
 locally^ and it is hoped that observers on the spot 
 will be able to supply this intelligence to the seafaring 
 community. As only the larger outports can be thus 
 warned from the London office_, the coastguard is 
 requested to diffuse the intelligence they forward 
 along the coast. These signals are intended for day 
 
 WARNING SIGNALS. 
 
 FOR DAY USE. 
 
 Gale probably from 
 the northward. 
 
 Gale probably from 
 the southward. 
 
 Dangerous winds may 
 be expected from 
 nearly opposite quar- 
 ters successively. 
 
 Dangerous wind 
 probably at first 
 from the north- 
 ward. 
 
 Dangerous wind 
 probably at first 
 from the south- 
 ward. 
 
THE CLERK OF THE WEATHER. 209 
 
 use j a separate system of Night Signals is adopted^ 
 which are made visible by lamps as follows : — 
 
 Gales successively. Gale probably from the southward. 
 
 Gale probably from the northward. 
 
210 
 
 THE CLERK OF THE WEATHER. 
 
 These signals are hoisted from dusk to midnight^ 
 if necessary. As yet these warnings are intended 
 mainly for seamen on land ; but it is to be hoped that 
 onr lighthouses will^ by and bye^ partake in the useful 
 duty of warning passing ships_, not only of the perma- 
 nent dangers of the hidden rock or sandbank_, but 
 also of the coming danger of the hurricane. At the 
 present moment this would be impossible^ as we have 
 no electric communication with our lighthouses ; but 
 as our beacons are, for the most part, stationed on 
 exposed points of the coast, and in mid-channel, they 
 would be of immense value both in gathering mete- 
 orological observations for the central office, and in 
 diffusing its danger-signals. The Astronomer-Royal 
 wishes to have the electric spark laid on to these 
 lighthouses for the purpose of giving time to cap- 
 tains. Admiral Fitzroy would also desire it, we doubt 
 not, for the sake of forewarning them of storms. 
 
 It will be asked, however, has this system of 
 warning our sailors of the approach of bad weather 
 been put in practice effectively ? Yes : every storm 
 of any importance has been thus notified to our 
 maritime population; and as the predictions have 
 always been verified by subsequent bad weather, our 
 sailors are beginning to place very great confidence 
 in the system. To the less affiuent fishing-villages 
 with which there is no telegraphic communication the 
 Meteorological Department lends barometers and 
 thermometers of a character suited to the habits of 
 the people. These are generally hung in some exposed 
 position, and the people are taught to read and 
 
THE CLERK OF THE WEATHER. 
 
 211 
 
 interpret them — a matter in which even otherwise 
 well-educated persons are apt to find themselves at 
 sea. For instance_, it is a general belief that a rising 
 barometer and a falling thermometer indicate fine 
 weather; but the fact is^ that when the rise is at all 
 sudden^, it rather indicates the approach of a Polar 
 gale_, or a gale blowing from the north-west or north- 
 east. The reason is obvious : the Polar or cold air is 
 the heaviest of all the atmospheric currents ; hence 
 the pressure it exerts upon the open end of the baro- 
 meter sends the other end up. Gales from the southern 
 quarter generally give notable warning of their 
 approach by a falling barometer^ and a temperature 
 higher than usual for the season. The barometer manual 
 also teaches these men that the approach of a dangerous 
 wind is always indicated by any sudden fall of mag- 
 nitude in that instrument^ or the fall^ say for three 
 hours^ of the mercury at the rate of a tenth of an inch 
 per hour ; and also that the longer the signs of change 
 of weather have appeared^ the greater chance of the 
 change lasting. Much of weatherwise wisdom is 
 expressed in the old couplet : — 
 
 Long foretold long last, 
 
 Short notice soon past. 
 
 The fall of the mercury in the thermometer ten 
 degrees is also a notable sign of a coming hurricane. 
 But it is not the sailor alone that requires instruction 
 in the use of the barometer : there is scarcely one 
 person in a hundred who hangs up a barometer in his 
 hall who can read it properly. It will generally be 
 
 p 2 
 
212 
 
 THE CLERK OF THE WEATHER. 
 
 found that it is hung too high. The vision should be 
 on a level with the top of the mercurial column^ as it 
 is according to what that fluid is doing at the moment 
 of observation that good forecasts can be made of 
 what is to come. Thus the condition of the surface 
 of the mercury is especially noteworthy : when it is 
 rising it is convex^ and concave when falling — a 
 symptom very clearly visible in modern barometers 
 and thermometers in which the column of mercury 
 is large. Admiral Fitzroy^ in his instructions to 
 observers^ is careful not to cut off any source of infor- 
 mation^ as he especially notes that the indications of 
 Nature are to be watched. Thus^ when sea-birds fly 
 out earty and far to seaward^ fair weather may be 
 anticipated ; on the contrary^ when they hang about 
 the land or fly inward_, stormy weather is indicated. 
 When animals^ instead of spreading over their usual 
 range^ seek sheltered places^ storms may be expected. 
 Dew is an indication of fine weather^ — so is fog ; but 
 clearness of the atmosphere near the horizon is a sign of 
 wet. When a mountaineer sees the hills cutting sharp 
 against the sky^ he wraps his plaid around him. A 
 good hearing day is also an indication of coming wet. 
 The public will feel all the more confidence in the Head 
 of the Meteorological Department for not disdaining 
 these phenomena noted by the weatherwise^ as they 
 rest upon exactly the same foundation as what may be 
 termed the more scientific signs — namely^ experience. 
 
 Now that Meteorology is elevated into an applied 
 science^ we feel confident that immense progress will 
 be made. It is a great thing to know that there is a 
 
THE CLERK OP THE WEATHER. 
 
 213 
 
 central department instituted purposely to collect all 
 information bearing upon the subject^ and that it has 
 a chief like Admiral Fitzroy^ whose heart is in his 
 business^ and who seems never better pleased than 
 when he is collecting from any source^ however insig- 
 nificant^ a fact that is noteworthy — unless it be when 
 he is diffusing his knowledge so attained either to 
 individuals or the public at large. The growth of this 
 new department seems to bear the same relation to 
 the Shipwreck Relief Society and the Lifeboat Society 
 that preventive medicine does to remedial medicine. 
 Indeed^ as we progress in knowledge we are beginning 
 to find out that prevention is better than cure ; and^ 
 what is more to the purpose^ we are becoming enabled 
 to put this prevention in practice. 
 
THE NEW COUNTEEBLAST TO TOBACCO. 
 
 There is a class of persons wIlo employ themselYes 
 with all the energy of despair in raising some cry of 
 alarm^ and making everybody about them unneces- 
 sarily uncomfortable. They parade their bugaboo 
 with a desperation which ensures a temporary public 
 attention^, and as soon as this dies out^ they start 
 another of a still more attractive appearance. The 
 Vegetarians would reduce mankind to live upon sky- 
 blue and an apple_, or at best an egg ; the Maine law 
 liquor men would legislate all spirituous and malt 
 liquors off the face of the earth ; and now we are to 
 have an anti-tobacco-smoking agitation which is to end 
 in the entire demolition of the Stygian weed.^^ It is 
 quite clear that this restless class of individuals will 
 not ^^let a body be^^^ and we may think ourselves 
 lucky if hereafter we are not reduced by them to have 
 our diet regulated by Act of Parliament. The anti- 
 tobacco-smoking agitation is the last issue of this very 
 unpleasant broody and we believe we are indebted 
 to Mr. John Lizars^ of Edinburgh^ for the hatching, 
 rearing, and sending it forth in a little pamphlet, 
 termed Practical Observations on the Use and 
 
THE NEW COUNTEEBLAST TO TOBACCO. 
 
 215 
 
 Abuse of Tobacco/^ which has already gone through 
 six editions. Upon taking up this publication the 
 other day^ we were certainly not a little surprised at 
 some of the statements therein contained, which are 
 calculated, we must confess, to shake the nerves of all 
 smokers already enervated by the abuse of tobacco. 
 The art of making an immediate and startling impres- 
 sion has, however, its drawbacks. Accuracy of detail 
 and sequential reasoning must be sacrificed to a 
 breadth and startlingness of elfect. When the urchin 
 sets up his turnip-ghost in the churchyard, he cares 
 little for the Phidian accuracy of its countenance, so 
 long as its goggle eyes at once prostrate Tommy as 
 he comes round the corner. 
 
 This little work of Mr. Lizars is open, we fear, to 
 hostile criticism in this direction, as we shall en- 
 deavour to point out. Of course it would not be 
 worth the while of the writer to show that the habit 
 of smoking affects only a few isolated individuals, so 
 he at once elevates it into a great and pregnant cause 
 of the destruction of peoples and empires. Excessive 
 smoking has had no small share in degenerating 
 Spain,^^ he tell us in the preface to his fourth edition. 
 Portugal and Germany are pretty nearly as bad as 
 Spain ; but Turkey is a gone coon all along of 
 tobacco- smoke : — 
 
 There can be no doubt, from what has occurred in the war just 
 ended, that, had the Turks never indulged in the vicious habit of 
 smoking tobacco, they would not have required the assistance of 
 the Sardinians, French, and British. They would have been as 
 powerful as in the days of the Sultans Othman, Orchan, Amurath 
 the First, and Bajazet ; and would have sent such a message 
 
216 
 
 THE NEW COUNTEEBLAST TO TOBACCO. 
 
 through Meiischikoff to the Czar Nicholas as the Sultan Bajazet 
 sent to the Count de Nevers of France, when taken prisoner, after 
 his celebrated unsuccessful cavalry charge (like that of Balaclava) 
 near Nicopolis. 
 
 Thus the better part of Europe and Asia has sunk 
 from its high estate^ chiefly in consequence of this 
 vile weed ! When Gibbon toiled and smohed and 
 thought over the Decline and Fail/^ in his little garden 
 at Lausanne — when he penned the last line of that 
 remarkable work^ and looked out upon the calm lake 
 — he little thought how the labours of future historians 
 would be simplified by the discoveries of science. 
 Even his prophetic eye could scarcely have penetrated 
 to the time when the philosopher, instead of looking 
 to the passions of men working through ages as the 
 causes of the decay of peoples, should seek for them 
 in the narrow compass of the pipe he haply smoked I 
 Mr. Lizars is undoubtedly entitled to the thanks of all 
 future slaves of the lamp for so grand a discovery. 
 Nevertheless, we must remind him that nations were 
 just as apt to degenerate in the patriarchal times, 
 before tobacco-smoke was known, as now-a-days. 
 
 Tobacco, according to Mr. Lizars, having slain so 
 many nations in the Old World, he anticipates a new 
 victim in the West : at least, he quotes with approval 
 an extract from the Spectator, in which the Yankees 
 are described as undergoing a process of physical 
 and moral degeneracy/^ and further, that ^^the people 
 are like medlars — rotten before they are ripe — ^prin- 
 cipally in consequence of smoking and chewing- 
 tobacco to excess.^^ Now, we always imagined that 
 
THE NEW COUNTERBLAST TO TOBACCO. 
 
 217 
 
 tlie defect of the Anglo-American character was an 
 extravagant go-aheadism — an uncontrollable energy 
 which would stop at nothing. If this effect is caused 
 by tobacco-smokings we should like to be informed by 
 Mr. Lizars how the same weed can have the effect of 
 steeping the Turk in apathy and idleness ! The 
 narcotic must be affected by longitude in some very 
 remarkable manners which we should like to hear 
 explained. 
 
 Mr. Lizars having desolated and overthrown empires 
 with a whiff of smoke in this remarkable manners we 
 expected to find a fitting figure for his grim landscape. 
 Here he is — a monster such as Frankenstein never 
 could have imagined : — 
 
 I once travelled with a gentleman from South America, who 
 first filled his nostrils with snuff, which he prevented from falling 
 out by stuffing shag tobacco after it, and this he termed “plugging 
 then put in each cheek a coil of pigtail tobacco, which he named 
 “ quidding,” — in this country called “ chewing lastly, he lit a 
 Havannah cigar, which he put into his mouth — and thus smoked 
 and chewed, puffing at one time the smoke of the cigar, and at 
 another time squirting the juice from his mouth, as so graphically 
 described by Dickens in the boat story, on its way to the Far 
 West. This gentleman was as thin as a razor, with an ohve- 
 coloured countenance, and frightfully nervous. 
 
 What a creature ! Imagine shag tobacco hanging 
 from his nostrils as long as the King of Sardinians 
 moustaches ! But this_, the reader will say, is simply 
 an allowable exaggeration, in keeping with the pre- 
 vious picture. Not a bit of it. Here are his own 
 consecutive remarks upon it : — 
 
 The preceding is neither a caricature nor an exaggerated account 
 of the fearful extent to which the use of tobacco is carried, not 
 
218 
 
 THE NEW COUNTEEBLAST TO TOBACCO. 
 
 only in Europe, as we know, but, as there is every reason to 
 fear, in every quarter of the globe where it either grows or is 
 unhappily conveyed. 
 
 Pray remember^ good readers, Mr. Lizars delibe- 
 rately affirms that the preceding is neither a caricature 
 nor an exaggerated account ! 
 
 So much for the accuracy of Mr. Lizars^ descrip- 
 tions as a philanthropist. They are somewhat incon- 
 sequential and over-coloured, it must be admitted; 
 but still, when gentlemen deal with large problems 
 out of their own direct line, allowances may be made 
 for them. But let us now listen to what he says with 
 respect to tobacco as a direct agent in propagating 
 disgusting surgical diseases : — 
 
 The practice is by no means uncommon, in some ranks of life, 
 for two individuals to smoke the same pipe or cigar alternately, 
 the one taking a puff or draw after the other ; and in this way the 
 morbid poison produces a similar effect to what is exemplified in 
 the communication of yaws or sibbens, by drinking out of an 
 infected cup or vessel. I have often been consulted by gentlemen 
 having marked ulcerated throat, which they could not account for. 
 On interrogating them, they have admitted lighting a pipe used by 
 another, or having accepted of a puff of a friend’s cigar. 
 
 Labouring men may pass round the cutty pipe, but 
 we never heard of gentlemen smoking a cigar alter- 
 nately. However, we will take Mr. Lizars^ word for 
 it that some people are dirty enough to do so, and 
 that contagion is thus passed on with it. What does 
 this prove, however ? That tobacco is therefore 
 pernicious ? Certainly not. He might as well, on 
 the same plea, object to drinking-glasses. Tobacco 
 not only inoculates the blood with a deadly poison. 
 
THE NEW COUNTERBLAST TO TOBACCO. 
 
 219 
 
 but it is_, according to Mr. Lizars^ the cause of 
 carcinoma in the tongue ! some horrible examples of 
 which he gives in the book before us in excessively 
 highly coloured plates. 
 
 I have received several communications from professional friends, 
 strongly indicating the strength and extent of medical testimony 
 against the use of the poisonous weed, and out of these I have 
 selected one sent to me by a physician who has long enjoyed exten- 
 sive opportunities of witnessing the very prejudicial effects which 
 tobacco-smoking exercises on the digestive organs. In the course 
 of my professional experience,” he writes me, two or three cases 
 of decided carcinoma of the under-lip, all of which terminated 
 fatally, have come under my care, and which could be unmis- 
 takeably traced to a sore, occasioned by a burn from a hot cutty 
 pipe.” 
 
 Now this extract from the friend^s pen may be 
 translated to mean nothing more than what has long 
 been suspected but never proved — namely^ that the 
 sore created by the corrosive action of a tobacco-pipe 
 may act as an exciting cause in producing epithelial 
 cancer in a person so predisposed. Even here 
 tobacco is only an accidental offender ; but at page 14 
 Mr. Lizars, in commenting upon a case of cancer 
 which had so arisen^ would seem to set the weed up 
 as the cause of cancer : — 
 
 Here I may remark, how many narrow escapes of having cancer 
 of the tongue must every smoker have had, when we consider that 
 every one with a disordered stomach has had one or more pimples 
 on his tongue, which, had they been irritated with pungent tobacco- 
 
 smoke, as in Dr. B ’s case, would in all probability have ended 
 
 in ulceration, becoming cancerous, and ending fatally. 
 
 Does Mr. Lizars mean to aver that cancer may be 
 induced in every smoker who happens to have a 
 
220 
 
 THE NEW COUNTEEBLAST TO TOBACCO. 
 
 pimple on his tongue^ which the pungent tobacco- 
 smoke irritates ? If this is his position^ our inquiries 
 into the causes of carcinoma have received an 
 immense impetus. We fear^ however^ that our 
 author means no such thing. No other interpretation 
 can be put upon his words^ however ; and we 
 therefore draw attention to the statement^ in order 
 that it may be either disavowed or more deliberately 
 affirmed. We are far from saying that tobacco- 
 smoking is at all times a wholesome habit^ or one that 
 can be indulged in with impunity by every individual. 
 That it has an injurious effect upon the nervous 
 systems of individuals out of health, and on those of a 
 particular idiosyncrasy, there can be little doubt ; but 
 so also has tea. Indeed, we believe that green tea, 
 universally adulterated as it is, has much more to 
 answer for, in producing nervousness than tobacco. 
 Be that as it may, however, what we wish to insist 
 upon is, that glaring exaggerations will never serve 
 the truth ; and we feel convinced that not one cigar 
 the less will be smoked in consequence of the highly 
 coloured statements of Mr. Lizars, to whom we would 
 apply his own phrase with respect to tobacco, only a 
 little altered — Throw aicay exaggeration for ever, 
 
 Mr. Solly, who is the chief leader of the anti- 
 tobacco party, has certainly this great advantage over 
 Mr. Lizars — ^he argues temperately, and does not deal 
 in those gross exaggerations which, as we pointed out 
 a short time since, render the opinions of the Edin- 
 burgh surgeon worthless and mischievous. We must 
 confess, however, that Mr. Solly has not put forth any 
 
THE NEW COUNTEEBLAST TO TOBACCO. 
 
 221 
 
 facts wMcli are indisputable with respect to the ill 
 effects of the moderate use of tobacco. We are quite 
 willing to grant that the immoderate use of smoking 
 is exceedingly prejudicial to the young, but what 
 earthly good is not open to the same objection ? Are 
 we justified in preaching a crusade against religion 
 because in some minds it degenerates into fanaticism ? 
 Must we abjure wine because some blackguard sots, 
 and beats his wife ? We ask these questions because 
 we believe that these solemn leagues and covenants 
 against creature comforts of all kinds are symp- 
 toms of a disorder which characterizes the age. 
 Surely the Almighty gave us reason in order that we 
 may use it — that we may be able to rely upon our 
 judgment and say, Now I have had enough. If 
 we are to taboo everything which may prove injurious 
 if carried to excess, we shall end in isolating man 
 from every good that God has given him. And let us 
 add, that in attempting to do so much in the tabooing 
 system, we are, in our opinion, emasculating the 
 human mind ; for what becomes of our self-reliance, 
 if we lock up the will at every conceivable avenue, 
 and stir no foot for fear of stumbling ? 
 
 If tobacco is really prejudicial to the human consti- 
 tution, taken, as most men take it, moderately, we 
 shall be glad to see its use wholly abolished ; but we 
 find no proof of the fact is forthcoming. Most 
 certainly, as yet we have seen no tittle of evidence to 
 that effect. We have read an infinity of letters upon 
 the subject in the Lancet, but we must confess they 
 contain nothing but the personal impressions of their 
 
222 
 
 THE NEW COUNTERBLAST TO TOBACCO. 
 
 writers^ and tliat^ if the weight of these airy nothings 
 were pitted against each other^ the moderate smokers 
 have the . advantage. Mr. Solly appears to see this 
 difficulty ; and in his attempt to escape it he appeals 
 to wider fields of experience. He asserts that high 
 intellectual activity is interfered with by the habit 
 of smoking ; and he rather inaptly seeks to prove his 
 position by stating that Lord Raglan and Sir Charles 
 Napier gave up smoking as soon as they entered 
 upon their respective commands in the late war ! 
 We fear the tobacco-smokers will say^ that was the 
 reason they made such a mess of it — had they gone 
 on smokings they would have been more successful.^^ 
 Be that as it may^ however^ we think Mr. Solly^s 
 appeal to the manes of the illustrious dead is rather 
 unfortunate ; for^ if our memory serves us_, the great 
 intellects of the past were notorious smokers — to wiL 
 Baleigh_, Newton^ Hobbes^ Locke_, Milton^ Byron^ 
 Coleridge^ Charles Lamb (see his ode to Tobacco)^^ 
 Moore^ Shelley,, Scott,, Robert Hall,, Burns. These 
 are only a few that come to mind at this moment,, 
 but they certainly contain the cream of the human 
 intellect of the last three centuries in England. 
 Among living great men who smoke habitually^ are 
 Tennyson^ Guizot,, and Louis Napoleon. If we look 
 abroad^ the smokers are equally in the ascendant; 
 in large-brained Germany all the philosophers,, past 
 and present^ with Goethe at their head^ were and 
 are smokers. 
 
 After this evidence^ we think Mr. Solly must con- 
 siderably modify his statement that smoking is incom- 
 
THE HEW COUNTERBLAST TO TOBACCO. 
 
 223 
 
 patible with a high state of intellectual activity. We 
 do not thinks however^ that the defence of a moderate 
 use of tobacco rests upon the support of even these 
 gigantic exemplars of the human mind : it has a far 
 surer foundation in the universality of its use. Surely 
 a substance which is used almost as commonly as food 
 itself — which finds equal favour in the hut of the 
 savage and the homes of the first cities in the world — 
 must be something more than a mere vulgar mistake^ 
 a noxious blunder^ which has only to be exposed to be 
 abolished. It must be en rapport with maifis nature 
 itself to have spread even farther than the use of wine. 
 Let our controversialists consider this fact in its broad 
 and ineffaceable meanings and we do not fear that they 
 will pooh-pooh it as unworthy of being considered^ as 
 Mr. Solly does. 
 
 Mr. Solly asks if our psychologists or mental 
 physicians cannot give us some account of the average 
 number of lunatics who have been habitual smokers. 
 Is this eminent surgeon_, who has devoted himself to 
 brain diseases all his life^ unaware that tobacco is^ 
 almost without exception^ used as a common article 
 of consumption^ and as a sedative^ in our public and 
 private lunatic-asylums ? We select^ for instance^ the 
 following items from the reports of lunatic-asylums on 
 our own table : — Colney Hatch : tobacco and snuff for 
 one year^ £271. 2^. ; North and East Hiding Lunatic 
 Asylum : tobacco^ 2101b._, £36. 15,9. ; snuffy 81b._, 
 £1. 176'.; Wilts County Asylum: tobacco^ 227|lb.^ 
 £37. 106. lid.; snuffy 37^1b.^ £6. 126. 8d. We may 
 go through the reports of every county asylum in 
 
224 
 
 THE HEW COUHTEEBLAST TO TOBACCO. 
 
 England and find similar entries. This^ if not an 
 exact answer to Mr. Solly^s question^ at least shows 
 what are the smoking habits of our lunatics. The 
 medical superintendents of our asylums must be pre- 
 pared to defend this practice against the wholesale 
 denunciations of Messrs. Lizars and Solly; and we 
 call upon them publicly to give the reason that is in 
 them^^ for what they do. As far as we have been able 
 to observe^ it would appear that excessive smoking is 
 more particularly confined to very young men — a class 
 of persons who are generally apt to run into excesses 
 of all kinds. To such persons the habit is^ we believe, 
 injurious, as the nervous system in youth is particularly 
 sensitive. In middle age, we question whether there 
 is such a thing as immoderate smoking to any extent ; 
 certainly the habit is not so universal among men of 
 the world as it was in the reign of the first and second 
 Georges, when the pipe and the pot, or the punch- 
 bowl, were the sole solace of the age. 
 
 After a certain period of life the human frame seems 
 capable of resisting the influence of any amount of 
 tobacco-smoking. Those who have noticed the habits 
 of very aged people know full well that many of them, 
 especially in the lower ranks, consider the pipe to be 
 the chief enjoyment of life. There was a few years 
 ago an old woman at Swansea, 108 years old, whose 
 cutty pipe was never out of her mouth ; and we have 
 remarked that of late most old women who have died 
 at a very advanced age, beyond a hundred years, have 
 retained the habit until the latest moment of their 
 existence. W e do not wish to put forward these old 
 
THE NEW COUNTERBLAST TO TOBACCO. 
 
 225 
 
 women as any argument in favour of immoderate 
 smoking, as we know the worthlessness of arguing 
 from the special to the general, hut simply to show 
 that tobacco, even taken largely, in a certain stage 
 of hfe, and after the establishment of a habit, becomes 
 quite inert. 
 
 
POETSMOIJTH DOCKYAED. 
 
 Foe tlie small sum of half a crown you may in the 
 summer season leave hot and dusty London behind 
 you^ traverse the South Downs^ skirt the South coast, 
 spend a day in the great naval arsenal of Portsmouth, 
 and be back again in town to a late tea : that is, those 
 who like cheap trips and this kind of racing within an 
 inch of their lives may do so if they like — which I 
 do not. Wanting a holiday last summer, and having 
 made inquiries for the least Cockneyfied seaside place 
 within a couple of hours^ journey of London, I made 
 up my mind to spend a month at Southsea, to the 
 horror of my respectable friends. And where in 
 the name of fate is Southsea ? inquires the reader. 
 Southsea, then, is the west- end of Portsmouth, so to 
 speak, although it really lies to the east of that famous 
 port — so close, in fact, that you may throw a biscuit 
 from the Common almost into the High Street. There 
 are certain places that every Englishman must see in 
 the course of his lifetime, and the dockyard — the chief 
 cradle of our fleet — is one of them. And it is not 
 only the cradle but the destined grave of our naval 
 power, as some people will have it ; for here we are 
 
PORTSMOUTH DOCKYARD. 
 
 227 
 
 told the Frenchmen will some day catch us, and 
 smother us in our naval hive like a swarm of hornets, 
 unless we keep a good look-out. For these reasons 
 Portsmouth Dockyard, just at the present moment, is 
 one of the points on which the national eye is fixed. 
 
 There is certainly something very charming in the 
 extreme civility with which the total stranger is 
 treated in our great public establishments. He is 
 made to feel that all the treasures that he sees belong 
 to him, — in common, it is true, with the Queen and a 
 few millions besides, but still to him; and he enjoys 
 all the dignity of proprietorship. Indeed I could not 
 help feeling that I possessed more than my ordinary 
 share of those large 1 20-gun ships, &c., inasmuch as 
 a six-foot policeman was told off especially for my 
 service in surveying all the glories of the premier 
 British arsenal and dockyard. 
 
 And first about Masts. Those accustomed to sea- 
 ports and merchantmen only are struck with the 
 imposing magnitude of all the details belonging to 
 our great ships of war. Milton, when he likens 
 Satan^s spear to the mast of some tall admiral,^^ 
 conveys by his similitude only a just idea of its 
 portentous size. 
 
 Let us take the mainmast of the Diike of Wellingtony 
 for instance. Here it lies, stretching its length for 
 many a rood : not a simple spar, for no tree that 
 grows could furnish such a bulk as it presents ; but a 
 complex structure, built up of innumerable pieces, 
 with as much care as one of those tall chimney-stacks 
 which carry off the fumes of alkali works, rising to a 
 
 Q 2 
 
228 
 
 PORTSMOUTH DOCKYARD. 
 
 heiglit of upwards of 200 feet^ and surmounted on 
 the topmost spar with a truck. We shudder when 
 we see a British tar occasionally stand upon this 
 giddy height^ out of bravado ; but the feat loses 
 somewhat of its merit when we find that this same 
 truck_, which looks like a mere speck at the masthead, 
 is in reality as big as a small tea-table. 
 
 As one surveys the treasures of the masthouse — 
 sees the spars of the old Victory, of the Duke of 
 Wellington, the Victoria, the Albert, and of the scores 
 of other first-rates, that lie side by side, stacked away 
 with as much ease as though they were mere walking- 
 sticks — one feels a certain melancholy impression that 
 they belong to the Past. Never again will these 
 stately masts carry the bulging sail ; never again will 
 a fieet of three-deckers put out from our seaports to 
 fight. It is this refiection which gives such an air of 
 sadness to all our naval arsenals. The old fighting 
 ship which towered so majestically over all meaner 
 craft, and which bore some sort of relation, as regards 
 size, to the mighty deep on which it rode, is as much 
 a thing of the past as the Great Harry or a Roman 
 galley. When Turner, thirty years ago, painted his 
 touching picture of ^^The Fighting Temeraire towed 
 to her Last Berth by the little fizzing tugboat, he 
 but too truly foreshadowed the coming fate of the 
 giant race of ships, which seemed, like Ossian^s 
 heroes, to grow more vast and majestic as they finally 
 disappeared from the scene. 
 
 The revolution that is so silently and surely passing 
 over our naval system seemed to me to have struck 
 
POETSMOUTH DOCKYARD. 
 
 229 
 
 with palsy the yard itself. The ropery, where of old 
 those great cables were spun which held our largest 
 ships at anchor, now finds its chief occupation gone, 
 for iron takes the place of hemp. The smaller ropes 
 are yet spun here; and the immense length of the 
 building in which they are made — upwards of a 
 quarter of a mile in length — becomes apparent to the 
 eye as one sees the men at the extreme end advancing, 
 hke so many spiders, and scarcely as large, twisting 
 the hempen line from the flax surrounding their 
 waists, just as the insect seems to draw out its 
 delicate web from its own intestines. We looked in 
 vain, however, for the mighty twenty-five inch cables, 
 and we saw the machinery for twisting the various 
 strands that compose them now standing idle. As a 
 relic of other days, a portion of the great cable of 
 the Royal George, sunk at Spithead, hung up in the 
 ropery, is doubtlessly looked upon by the hands as 
 a Saurian is viewed by a geologist, marking the 
 gigantic creations of the elder days. But bulk does 
 not necessarily constitute strength, for iron links, only 
 a third the size, are now in common use, and con- 
 stitute the safeguard of our fleet. As we look upon 
 these links, however, we are reminded of the magni- 
 tude of the trust we place in their soundness ; on a 
 single loop of iron the fate of a ship with a thousand 
 men is often dependent as she rides at anchor during 
 the fury of a gale blowing on a lee-shore. A slight 
 flaw, which the eye cannot detect, may be pregnant 
 with the fate of this multitude of men ; the integrity 
 of each segment of the iron cables supplied to the 
 
230 
 
 POETSMOUTH DOCKYAED. 
 
 navy is therefore a necessary preliminary to its being 
 issued j and we must give the Grovernment the credit 
 of using every conceivable care in testing their sound- 
 ness. Every link is subjected to an enormous strain 
 by the application of hydraulic power before it is 
 passed^ and thus the instrument of salvation^ as well 
 as that of destruction in the shape of the cannon^ is 
 thoroughly tried before it is put to practical use. 
 We wish^ however^ we could say the same of that 
 portion of the men-of-war^s holding power which has 
 laid upon it perhaps the greatest strain of all — the 
 anchor. When we gaze upon the accumulation of 
 huge best bowers and sheet-anchors in the 
 ^^rack/^ looking like the whitened ribs of countless 
 elephants^ we are reminded of the curse that has 
 always attached to the Admiralty — the curse of sacri- 
 ficing progress to the system. The British public 
 have often asked why it is that the British navy is 
 supplied with the old-fashioned and most unscien- 
 tifically constructed anchors^ which have been so often 
 tested and found wanting^ in comparison with the 
 patent anchors of Trotman^ now used by all our large 
 ships of the mercantile marine ; and the answer is 
 characteristic enough of the Department which makes 
 it — ^^We cannot adopt the new anchor^ because the 
 contracts for the old one are not yet out^ and will not 
 be for a dozen years.^^ What would the nation say 
 if our artillery engineers had made the same 
 improvident and imbecile contract in the case of 
 guns^ and had refused our tried Armstrongs and 
 Whitworths^ because they had a contract running 
 
PORTSMOUTH DOCKYARD. 
 
 231 
 
 with the Carron Company for the old smooth-bore 
 68-pounders ? 
 
 The pointy perhaps^ of the greatest attraction^ and 
 one which the officials never fail to laud with the 
 utmost extravagance^ is the block manufactory^ where 
 the blocks^ great and small^ for the rigging of the* 
 British fleet are manufactured. When the machinery 
 for this purpose was first designed by the elder 
 Brunei^ in 1801^ it was doubtless a very great 
 advance upon the hand labour of the Yard^ and 
 probably was viewed with astonishment by the some- 
 what fossil heads of the dockyard authorities — an 
 astonishment and admiration which seems to have 
 come down to the present time ; but it is no offence 
 to the memory of the great engineer who invented it 
 to say that it is now grown very antiquated and 
 altogether behind the time^ and is not by any means 
 to be compared with many of the many new pro- 
 cesses for saving labour now to be seen in opera- 
 tion either at the small- arm factory at Enfield or at 
 the great arsenal at Woolwich. I would no more 
 have desired to have hinted as much to the six-foot 
 pohceman who acted as my cicerone^ than I would 
 have given a free opinion on a point of theology 
 to the Archbishop of Canterbury. We are told that 
 the number of blocks in a full-rigged ship is not 
 less than 1^432 : this number of course refers to the 
 old three-deckers ; but as our modern heavy frigates 
 are rigged in a far simpler manner than those sailed 
 by our fathers^ this estimate can no longer be 
 accepted; and what perhaps with our new reefing 
 
232 
 
 POETSMOUTH DOCKYAED. 
 
 apparatus^ and our shield ships^ the old-fashioned 
 block will ere long be superseded by some new 
 invention. 
 
 As we talk of shield ships^ we find ourselves; 
 beside the dry dock which holds the Boyal Sove- 
 reign — ^that is to be one day a specimen of the 
 new craft. We can imagine the inventor tearing 
 his hair — ^if the obstructions thrown in his way by 
 the Department have left him any hair to tear — and 
 exclaiming^ How long — yet how long ! The 
 Royal Sovereign, a specimen of a three-decker of 
 110 guns^ built we believe by the late Surveyor of 
 the Admiralty^ not only never went to sea_, but never 
 even left the dock in which she was built. Two years- 
 ago she stood a noble-looking crafty when that wicked 
 man^ Captain Coles^ forced his ideas upon the ^^otos- 
 eaters at Whitehall^ and the word was sent to cut 
 her down. It has been remarked that the dockyard 
 men never seem to work with such a will as when 
 they are pulling to pieces^ and in this case in a very 
 short time the mighty frame of this first-rate was 
 razed to her water-line. Here,, however^ all the efforts 
 of the shipwrights seemed paralyzed,, and the work 
 of reconstruction has since gone on with the usual 
 Government torpidity. 
 
 But can we expect the moving spirits at the 
 Admiralty to be over-anxious that the new kind of 
 war craft should succeed ? My Lords,,^^ who have 
 passed their days of service in roomy ships^ with fine 
 poop cabins and stern galleries^ and in full command of 
 flush decks^ on which our Jacks,, when work was done. 
 
PORTSMOUTH DOCKYARD. 
 
 233 
 
 danced for their own and his delectation^ to the music 
 of the merry fiddle^ cannot be expected to bear any 
 good will to these iron turtles_, the chief merit of which 
 consists in casing up their inmates in walls of iron^ 
 that let in light only from overhead (and not too much 
 of that)_, and absolutely deny a peep at anything but 
 the eternal blue of the sky above. My Lords 
 could not be brought willingly to agree to such a 
 living death as this. Moreover^ our gallant heroes 
 like to fall in the arms of Victory upon their own 
 quarter-deck; buL according to Captain Coleses scheme^ 
 this will be impracticable : at all events^ even Nelson 
 could not have died in a dignified manner upon the 
 top of the inverted kitchen candlestick — for such is 
 a Coles patent cupola^ to say the best of it. But this 
 is the British admirals point of view of the new 
 design. Possibly the British public may have a 
 different idea of the matter^ and may wonder_, as 
 we know it does^ after the experience of these 
 cupola ships gained in actual conflict on the other 
 side of the Atlantic^ that such disgraceful apathy is 
 shown in putting the new idea to the test in our 
 own waters. 
 
 The Docks — of which there are nine in the Ports- 
 mouth yard — nearly all speak of the transition state 
 of, our marine affairs. With the exception of two^ 
 they are all too short for the long frigates^ both 
 iron and wood^ which have superseded our towering 
 three-deckers. Like growing boys^ these new ships 
 have outgrown their docks^ and now the latter must 
 have their tucks let ouL if we may be allowed to use a 
 
234 
 
 POETSMOUTH DOCKYAED. 
 
 tailor^s image. On two of tlie docks this operation 
 kas been performed^ and we saw tbe famous transport 
 Himalaya higb. and dry in one of them^ exposing in 
 all her length the beauty of her finely curved lines. 
 The necessity for increasing the dry-dock accommo- 
 dation in this yard is becoming day by day more 
 apparent^ as^ since the introduction of the iron-plated 
 frigates^ it is found that the bottom- cleaning process 
 is required much more frequently than with wooden 
 ships. Both the Warrior and the Black Prince have 
 thus fouled in a very short space of time^ and no 
 composition has yet been found efiectual against the 
 barnacles and the seaweeds which cling to them. A 
 sheathing of copper^ unfortunately^ cannot be em- 
 ployed in such ships^ inasmuch as the salt water^ 
 acting upon the two metals when in contact^ would 
 produce a galvanic action which would speedily eat 
 away the copper^ as in ordinary galvanic troughs. 
 Some bold speculator has startled the slow coaches^^ 
 of the dockyards by proposing to supersede the 
 laborious and costly plan of sheathing her Majesty^s 
 ships with sheets of copper — 6^500 of which^ we are 
 informed by the guide-book^ are required for the 
 bottom of a first-rate^ and these must be fastened on 
 with a ton and a half of counter- sunk nails — by the 
 simple plan of electro-plating them. To accomplish 
 this^ the dock would be turned into a large electro- 
 bath^ the vessel of wood would simply be blackleaded_, 
 a line of wire from stem to stern would be formed to 
 complete the circuity and in an incredibly short space 
 of time the ship would receive^ without further trouble^, 
 
PORTSMOUTH DOCKYARD. 
 
 235 
 
 a clotliing of copper from Iter water-line downwards 
 without break or flaw. The deposition of iron has 
 never been yet managed successfully by means of the 
 electro-type process : otherwise we may imagine our 
 teak-built frigates thus armed with plates of metal to 
 any required thickness^ in a single nighty without the 
 weakening process of bolting on ! Our great war- 
 ships would then go to battle fully armed in coats of 
 mail^ and the act of closing rivets up ” would be 
 quietly and noiselessly performed by the blue spark of 
 Electricity alone. 
 
 We have not time to accompany the reader through 
 the Smithery^ as there really is nothing in all this 
 establishment which differs much from great private 
 shops of the same kind. The Admiralty have lately 
 taken to manufacture their own armour-plates^ but we 
 have not heard that they have succeeded in producing' 
 better work than^ or indeed so good as^ the Thames 
 Iron Company and other establishments. 
 
 The old Sultan, seventy-four^ hulk^ has for months 
 been used as a target-ship for the trial of these plates^ 
 sent by different iron-masters ; aud the significant 
 attentions of 68-pounders^ at 200 yards^ range^ are 
 visible enough on her sides. Some of her plates are 
 merely dented^ others are starred like a sheet of 
 glass ; others^ again^ have been smashed and partly 
 detached from their fastenings. An inspection of the 
 dark hold of the old ship shows most strikingly the 
 effect of the shot upon her timbers. In some places 
 the ball has gone through both sides ; in others^ huge 
 fractures appear ; and the solid oak^ in most cases^ has 
 
236 
 
 POETSMOUTH DOCKYAED. 
 
 been broken into matck-wood/^ We do not speak 
 figuratively^, but literally ; the ship-side^ in some 
 places^ being so shattered around the shot-holes that 
 it has crumbled to pieces like touchwood/^ 
 
 On a fine breezy day^ a sail up the harbour is the 
 proper addendum to an inspection of the dockyard. 
 If we take a boat at the hard/^ that spot beloved by 
 Jews and crimps_, and the richest perhaps in public- 
 houses of any like- sized spots in the worlds our desti- 
 nation is sure to be suspected to be the old Victory. 
 There she lies_, together with her companion training- 
 ship the Britannia , — two models of the old men-of- 
 war of the days of our grandfathers^ ^‘^when ships 
 were ships^^^ as the Old Salt remarked who rowed me 
 towards the mighty old hull. 
 
 There is something about the build of these old 
 three-deckers that looks more majestic than even 
 larger ships of a later build — the tumbling-in of 
 their sides gives a proud^ defiant look to them» which 
 we miss in the straighter sides of newer models. 
 Compare them^ for instance^ with the Duke of Welling- 
 ton, or the Victoria*^'n.dL Albert, the three leviathans 
 riding at anchor higher up the harbour : each of these 
 fine ships is at least a third larger than Nelson^ s old 
 ship^ but to our eye they do not make such a proud 
 appearance when viewed from a distance. These 
 latter ships are the last efforts of a bygone age : the 
 paint is scarcely dry upon their sides ; the masts of 
 the two latter have^ if we mistake not_, never been 
 shipped^ yet they are as completely things of the past 
 as the Royal Harry, Their large bulk^ instead of 
 
PORTSMOUTH DOCKYARD. 
 
 237 
 
 being a source of strength to them, is a cause of 
 weakness. A single shell pitched into their hulls 
 from a mimic gunboat by an Armstrong at a mile^s 
 distance would as effectually demolish them as Goliath 
 was demolished by the smooth stone from David^s 
 sling. What will they do with these bulky toys, just 
 completed at a cost of a quarter of a million each ? Is 
 it their fate to be cut down to the water^s edge, like 
 the Royal Sovereign ? We fear so, for they will never 
 ride the waters like a thing of life again in their 
 present form. It is positively disheartening to sail 
 up the harbour and see ship after ship past and gone 
 ere it has sailed a league. We cannot say, like Beau 
 Brummeks valet, as he carried away an armful of 
 crumpled cravats, these are our failures but we 
 should be glad to know when we have a ship that 
 we can really call a ship, and not a mere helpless 
 target for those horrid guns, which go, bang, bang, 
 from the Storh gunboat higher up the harbour ; 
 possibly, as we listen. Captain Coleses cupola has 
 been smashed into a cocked hat by steel- 
 headed bolts. 
 
 They ainT contented wi^ cannon-balls, as they was 
 in my day,^^ remarked the boatman, dolefully; and 
 dolefully we rowed on beneath the shadow of the 
 131 -gun ship, almost doubting if Britannia did indeed 
 rule the waves, and if the broadside threatening above 
 us was only a delusion and a snare. As we passed on, 
 the long, low raking hull of the Warrior lay alongside 
 the dockyard wall, looking vixenish and cruel : her 
 gun-ports contracted to the smallest possible size, her 
 
238 
 
 PORTSMOUTH DOCKYARD. 
 
 guns of the deadly Armstrong make ; no ornament, 
 no open stern galleries, no projecting angles to be 
 knocked about ; but a smooth hard nut> very hard, we 
 doubt not, to crack, but to be cracked, as sure as fate, 
 by that dreadful Whitworth, who grimly sits at home 
 making his punches and steel bolts to smash our 
 gallant navy to smithereens. 
 
 It is positively a relief to turn away from this head- 
 aching game of attack and defence, to watch those 
 two little brigs of war making out to sea as though 
 we were in the good old days when George the Third 
 was King. They are the Sealarh and the Racehorse — 
 old 10-gun brigs, bowling along with all sails set. 
 These are the training-ships, in which the boys and 
 naval cadets learn seamanship. They start down 
 Channel every Monday morning, and return at the 
 end of the week, and train the young English tar in 
 the way he should go. Let guns beat ships, or ships 
 guns, Ave may be sure that it is the true British stuff 
 that fights them, — that will give us the lead as hereto- 
 fore ; and as we see the young scamps crowd the 
 rigging and run like cats along the yards, we feel that 
 here at least we are doing the right thing, beyond 
 cavil or dispute. 
 
 Not to loiter longer among the melancholy ships 
 laid up in ordinary, dressed in their Quakerish suits of 
 drab, let us pass by the steam-ferry over to the Gos- 
 port side, in order to inspect the Gunboat Slip. If 
 anything in England can be like China, we should say 
 that the country in the neighbourhood of the Govern- 
 ment estabhshments very much resembles it. There 
 
POETSMOUTH DOCKYAED. 
 
 239 
 
 are salt-water swamps in any number^ with creeks 
 running through oozy mudbanks^ and across a small 
 inlet of the sea a bridge^ which rises at a pitch that 
 Lreminds us of the bridge on the willow pattern 
 plate. Gloomy and solemn looks the Great Naval 
 Hospital of Haslar on our right hand ; but the inmates 
 have a charming view over Spithead and the lovely 
 Isle of Wight beyond^ and there is a liberty accorded 
 to the convalescents which may well be copied in 
 other hospitals. If the visitor looks seaward_, over the 
 terrace^ some fine day^ he may probably see an eight- 
 oared cutter moving about. This is the mad-boat of 
 the establishment : the insane are permitted to row^ 
 and fish^ and sail on their old element^, and no harm 
 comes of it. 
 
 But the Gunboat Slip ? says the reader. Well^ the 
 Gunboat Slip is perhaps the oddest place in the whole 
 naval establishment. At first the visitor thinks he is 
 in a railway- station^ as on either side long rows of 
 sheds are placed^ and between them lines of rails — one 
 line running down into the salt water^ with others 
 crossing it at right angles^ just in fronts and parallel 
 with the long row of sheds^ which open end-ways upon 
 the open shore. Peering out from the sheds^ on the 
 opposite side^ seem to be a goodly company of white 
 owls of Brobdignagian proportions. On inquiry^ 
 however^ they are found to be only mortar-boats laid 
 up in ordinary. Their hawse-holes^ however_, look just 
 like eyes^ and their cut-waters like beaks^ and the 
 whole expression of their bows is wonderfully like that 
 of the night-loving bird. 
 
240 
 
 POETSMOUTH DOCKYARD. 
 
 That longer row of slieds, facing the water and the 
 landing-slip^ is divided off into numberless pigeon- 
 holes, out of which peer as ill-tempered a set of gun- 
 boats as well could be got together, if we may judge 
 from the names conspicuously painted on their bows 
 — SnapjperSy Growlers^ Biters, Vixens, Termagants, 
 Bruisers, Snarlers, &c,, all looking at you out of their 
 houses, just like so many bulldogs in a sporting dog- 
 dealer^ s yard. 
 
 But how do these bulky gunboats perform the feat 
 of getting so comfortably on dry land ? There is a 
 huge locomotive, and before you are the rails. The 
 Qriper steams up to the landing-slip, already fixed in 
 a cradle which runs upon the rails. This cradle is 
 attached to long iron rods, which are hauled inland 
 by means of a powerful screw, and up comes the long 
 black hull, and in a few minutes it is landed like a 
 great whale. Once fairly on shore, she has to be 
 shunted to her appointed shed; this is done by means 
 of the cross-rail ; the locomotive, butting at the ship^s 
 side, pushes her broadside along, just as elephants are 
 pictured as shoving before them great guns in India. 
 This is certainly a most novel contrivance. 
 
 The Steam Bakery is close at hand : the flour put in at 
 the top of the mill comes out finished biscuit at the bot- 
 tom, and Jack, who is not supposed to be over-fastidious, 
 has long been the only person in herMajesty^s dominions 
 who has tasted this article of food made by the aid of 
 machinery alone. He is now, we hear, to have bread 
 whilst ashore. Better late than never. If the reader 
 has ever eaten a captain^s biscuit against time for a 
 
PORTSMOUTH DOCKYARD. 
 
 241 
 
 wager, lie will be able to appreciate the boon this will 
 be to poor Jack. 
 
 But we fear we are drawing out this article to an 
 inexcusable length, and yet we have not said our say 
 about the fortifications that girdle round this naval 
 treasure. These, like everything else at Portsmouth, 
 are rendered useless by the long ranges of our modern 
 artillery. Of old the only means by which our arsenal 
 could be reached was by way of the deep channel 
 inside the spit and close alongshore. This passage was 
 sufficiently guarded by the outer forts ; but now that 
 a hostile fleet can anchor three miles off and plump 
 down shell out of their reach, the whole existing line 
 of fortifications is rendered useless. Hence an outer 
 range of forts is rising out to seaward : we see the 
 piles driven for ocean forts in the various spits of 
 sand, and along the crest of Portsdown Hill the deep 
 chalk cuttings show the progress made in covering 
 the dockyard in the rear. The question may naturally 
 be asked, why go to such an expense to defend stores 
 that could much more securely be moved to an arsenal 
 in the interior ? But this, we know, is dangerous 
 ground to tread upon, and we have no wish to 
 risk a collision with our reader, or with the powers 
 that are.^^ 
 
 E 
 
AIR TRACTION. 
 
 How many of the toys of our childhood contain the 
 scientific principles with which^ in advanced manhood^, 
 we push on the civilization of the world ! Boys^ for 
 instance^ have gone on pea- shooting for generations^ 
 and nothing has come of it ; but in our day a clever 
 engineer has asked himself^ If a pea can travel by the 
 mere pressure of the breath along its peashooter, 
 why should we not turn atmospheric pressure seeking 
 to fill a vacuum to some account in the affairs of men, 
 and shoot, not peas, but letters, parcels, and other 
 light articles, through Brobdignagian peashooters from 
 point to point under our streets ? Mr. Eammell has 
 asked this question, and finding men of substance to 
 believe in the feasibility of his plan, has set to work, 
 and is now shooting heavy mails of letters day by day 
 under the streets between the North-Western Railway 
 Station and the North-West District Post Office. The 
 pedestrian passing along Crawley Street and Ever- 
 sholt Street in that neighbourhood may hear a loud 
 rumble under ground, but he little dreams that, like 
 swift shuttles, carriages are shooting to and fro all day 
 
AIR TRACTION. 
 
 248 
 
 long beneath the roadway between the two points we 
 have mentioned ; and_, as a consequence^ that the red 
 mail-carts that of old tore along the highway are now 
 seen no more^ being beaten out of the field by the 
 peashooter beneath his feet. 
 
 The cradle of this new drudge that man has called 
 into service to do his bidding is a modest brick shed 
 near the bottom of the Euston-square Station^ which 
 any one is free to enter^ and when he does so he is 
 puzzled mightily to understand the use of the strange 
 engines he sees before him. There is the mouth of 
 the tube^ and there are the travelling trucks^ ready to 
 be thrust into it ; and as we look^ a bell rings at some 
 little distance up the rail : this is a signal that a 
 mail-train has arrived at the Camden station^ and that 
 it will speedily be at Euston Square. At this signal 
 we hear a shovel of coke thrown into a furnace^ 
 a small steam-engine begins to beat swiftly, and 
 a whirring sound is heard within a great iron case 
 which is noticed on one side of the shed. This, we 
 are informed, is the pneumatic wheel — the mouth, in 
 fact, which is to propel or draw the trucks through 
 the tube. This wheel is twenty-one feet in diameter, 
 and is composed of two discs of iron, not placed quite 
 parallel to each other, but tapering ofl* from axis to 
 periphery. These discs are braced together by spoke- 
 like partitions, and these partitions communicate with 
 an opening for the entrance of air about the axis. 
 As this wheel rapidly revolves, the air is sucked in 
 at its centre, and thrown off in a perfect gale at its 
 open rim or edge. This gale is not allowed to 
 
 R 2 
 
244 
 
 AIR TRACTION. 
 
 disperse itself^ however^ but when any work has to be 
 done^ is confined within a case, just as a paddle-wheel 
 is confined within a paddle-box, and allowed to pass 
 out at the will of the engineer through a pipe in 
 connection with the great pneumatic despatch-tube. 
 In like manner, the air that is sucked in at the 
 axle is all conducted from the despatch-tube by a 
 similar pipe. 
 
 Here, then, we have the means of pulling or pushing 
 the travelling- carriages along their subterranean road, 
 and as we speak we see it in operation ; for a mail- 
 guard opens a door, throws in two or three mail-bags 
 just snatched out of the guard^s van as it rolls into the 
 station, the iron carriages are shoved into the tube, 
 the air-tight door at its mouth is closed, and the 
 engineer, with a turn of a lever, directs a torrent of 
 air upon them, and we hear them rumbling off on 
 their subterranean journey at a rate, as we are 
 informed, of twenty miles an hour. Ere we have done 
 looking and wondering, we notice that a water-gauge, 
 on which the eye of the engineer has been fixed, 
 becomes depressed at one arm and elevated at another. 
 
 It has arrived,^^ he says ; and almost ere he has 
 said it, a bell connected with an electric telegraph 
 warns him that the attendant at the other end of the 
 tube is about to thrust the carriage into the tube on 
 its return journey. 
 
 It had been pushed along, as we have said, by the 
 pressure of air thrown out by the wheel, but it has to 
 be pulled back by suction ; the valve of the suction- 
 pipe, in connection with the centre of the disc, is 
 
AIR TRACTION. 
 
 245 
 
 accordingly opened_, and speedily we hear a hollow 
 rumblings and out shoots the carriage^ ready once 
 more for fresh bags. At present 110 mails pass in 
 this way from the station to the district post-office 
 during the day^ and not only letters but trucks of iron 
 of the weight of five tons have passed^ and adven- 
 turous visitors now and then perform the journey to 
 their great delight. 
 
 The principle having been thus practically tested^ 
 the Directors are getting ready to lay down a 4ft. Gin. 
 tube between Euston Square terminus and the W.C. 
 District Post Office at the corner of Southampton 
 Street^ High Holborn^ and thence along Holborn Hill 
 to Smithfield Market^ the General Post Office^ and the 
 depots of the great carriers in Gresham Street^ Messrs. 
 Pickford and Messrs. Chaplin & Horne^ both of which 
 firms have entered into an arrangement with the 
 Pneumatic Despatch Company to carry their parcels 
 to and from the station. 
 
 Without doubt^ before long, all the main thorough- 
 fares will be traversed by these swift shuttles, passing 
 to and fro by the impulse of the air — performing the 
 part of letter-carriers between distant parts of this 
 great metropolis, and consequently multiplying the 
 deliveries, and shortening the time in which they are 
 transmitted, giving us also an hour or more later for 
 writing our country letters than in the old days of the 
 mail-carts, which may be expected to grow as scarce 
 as mail-coaches. 
 
 But the public will scarcely gain less advantage 
 from the action of this invention as a carrier and a 
 
246 
 
 AIE TEACTION. 
 
 pare el- delivery company. Our streets are at present 
 blockaded at certain times of the day by the tbree- 
 borse railway waggons passing between the great 
 carriers and the railway termini. This traffic will be 
 greatly lessened^ if not totally annihilated^ as the 
 Pneumatic Despatch Company ramify their carrying- 
 tubes through the metropolis^ and pass underground 
 the goods going from station to station^ and again from 
 the stations to our great markets. 
 
 The magnitude of this traffic is only known to those 
 who carry it on. Taking Camden Town as one of 
 the stations which supply the London commissariat^ 
 we find that a hundred tons of meat and poultry daily 
 pass thence to Smithfield^ and ten tons of butter; 
 whilst thirty tons of fish pass daily from Billingsgate 
 to the railway station^ and an equal weight of oranges 
 and dried fruit escapes into the country by the same 
 outlet. We scarcely dare say how many tons of 
 vegetables are brought into Covent-garden Market 
 by the spring carriages of the different lines^ but we 
 may mention that the South-Eastern Railway one 
 morning delivered in that market no less than 13^000 
 baskets of fruit ; whilst as much as two hundred tons 
 a day of rhubarb and other vegetables are sent north- 
 ward from the Camden Station. A very large share 
 of this immense daily traffic will doubtless fall into the 
 hands of this company^ as they will be able to carry 
 so much cheaper and much quicker than the ordinary 
 vehicles possibly can do^ and they will be able to 
 deliver directly into the market^ and beside the rail. 
 
 BuL says the reader^ if such heavy traffic as this is 
 
AIR TRACTION. 
 
 247 
 
 contemplated by tbe promoters of the new carrying 
 system_, why not carry people as well as goods ? That 
 is just what Mr. Rammell contemplates doing. The 
 great success of the Metropolitan Railway has proved 
 that the public is not adverse to subterranean transit ; 
 and^ indeed^ the impossibility of providing sufficient 
 space above ground over the more crowded portions 
 of the metropolis has necessitated this method of 
 underground intercommunication. Hence we do not 
 fancy there will be any objection on this score. 
 
 But^ the reader will remark^ the atmospheric 
 method of propulsion has been tried^ and proved a 
 failure. But that was a system by which carriages 
 above ground were moved by a small piston working 
 in a pipe underground^ and the expense of exhausting 
 the air was too great to compete with locomotive 
 traction. A pressure of 101b. on the square inch was 
 required to move this piston; a pressure of 5oz. is 
 sufficient to move the carriages that Mr. Rammell 
 proposes to drive inside his tubes ; and the reason is 
 evident. Each carriage will present an area of say 
 nine feet square to the atmosphere ; in other words^ 
 the augmented area makes up for the diminished 
 pressure. 
 
 But^ says the affrighted reader^ this projector does 
 not intend that we are to ride in a dark tube with 
 the pressure of a gale of wind blowing upon us ? At 
 first sight the objection does seem a strong one ; but 
 we must remember that the carriages would be going 
 with the gale^ and therefore it would not be felt. 
 There is something exceedingly novel in the method 
 
248 
 
 AIE TEACTION. 
 
 by wbich Mr. Rammell proposes to work the traffic. 
 Groups of carriages would be placed at distances 
 coinciding with the stations^ and these carriages 
 would be worked by the elastic rope of air in a con- 
 tinuous circuity just as we see the buckets in the 
 dredging-machines on the Thames working in an 
 endless chain — one set of carriages going along one 
 side of the double tube, and another returning by the 
 other tube. It would be so arranged, however, that 
 between station and station only one group of car- 
 riages could be in the tube at the same time, thus 
 preventing any possibility of accident either by col- 
 lision or by one carriage overtaking another. 
 
 It is needless to say that as the atmosphere in these 
 railway tubes would be circulating every moment^ 
 there would be perfect ventilation; — we say tubes,, 
 but they may be brick arches, just such as those of 
 the Thames Tunnel, only much smaller, — a headway 
 of nine feet, with a width of eight, being quite suffi- 
 cient for the passage of very roomy carriages, seated 
 like an omnibus and lighted like an ordinary railway 
 carriage. 
 
 The plan seems so utterly strange that the reader 
 may shrug his shoulders and doubt its practicability ; 
 but that part of the business has been disposed of at 
 Euston Square, and we are informed that the whole 
 plan of operations will, in all probability, be tested in 
 public ere long. 
 
 We are told that traffic can be worked considerably 
 cheaper by this method than can be done by the loco- 
 motive, and that the cost of constructing an under- 
 
AIR TRACTION. 
 
 249 
 
 ground rail on this system would also be one-third 
 less than the cost of the Metropolitan line. These are 
 matters which have to be brought to the actual 
 working test; at the same time^ the comparatively 
 diminished area of tunnelling required^ and the great 
 gain consequent on the abolition of the heavy loco- 
 motive^ which is so destructive to the rails^ tend to cor- 
 roborate the correctness of the statement. Gradients 
 which would be impossible to the heavy locomotive are 
 ascended and descended with perfect ease by means of 
 the elastic rope of air. For instance^ the ascent and 
 descent of the Fleet Valley at Holborn Hill and Snow 
 Hill will be as easily worked as the level road^ and 
 the train can work through sinuous curves which 
 would be fatal to the locomotive. 
 
 The strong pressure public opinion is bringing to 
 bear upon the Government in favour of keeping the 
 few open spots we have in the metropolis^ will doubt- 
 less be fatal to many of the schemes which propose to 
 cut and carve our great city in all directions. It 
 seems^ therefore^ that a scheme which can be worked 
 underground in a space not larger than that occupied 
 by good-sized culverts^ and which would not interfere 
 with the great drains — for in the main thoroughfares, 
 such as Oxford Street, there is ample room between 
 them and the roadway — stands a good chance of 
 obtaining public favour. But whether this prove to 
 be only one of those abortive schemes which Time 
 gathers year by year so plentifully in his wallet, or a 
 great invention, there can be no doubt that the 
 Pneumatic Despatch Company have established their 
 
250 
 
 AIE TEACTION. 
 
 principle of workings and that this great city will 
 kenceforth have its lighter traffic and parcels and 
 letters carried on by a circulation of air ramifying in 
 a network of tubes through soil^ as the human body 
 was supposed^ before the time of Harvey^ to be 
 supplied by a similar circulation. 
 
VILLAGE HOSPITALS. 
 
 There is one great fault in our medical education : in 
 tlie great majority of cases^ the skill of the young 
 surgeon begins to rust as soon as he settles down into 
 country practice. A young man may leave the College 
 of Surgeons with a very tolerable amount of anatomy 
 at his fingers^ ends ; he may have made demonstrations 
 on the dead body to the examiners^ satisfaction^ and 
 he may leave for some country village with his diploma 
 in his pocket ; but here^ as a general rule^ his know- 
 ledge of the higher branches of the surgical art begins 
 to fade. And the reason is obvious : the great 
 majority of cases he has to treat among the poor are 
 medical cases. It is a very uncommon thing to find 
 severe accidents happening to the agricultural peasant 
 — or at least it has been so ; and where they have 
 occurred^ the appliances of their homes are so deficient^ 
 that as a rule it is the custom to send such cases to 
 the nearest county or borough hospital. 
 
 The tendency of this plan is to encourage the 
 hospital surgeon at the expense of the general prac- 
 titioner in the country ; and we may also say at the 
 expense of the poor patient^ who often has to be 
 
252 
 
 VILLAGE HOSPITALS. 
 
 removed for many miles in a rough jolting cart whilst 
 suffering great agony. Moreover much valuable time 
 is lost in the transit. In manufacturing districts, 
 where machinery at times causes frightful accidents, 
 the local surgeons are in many cases exceedingly skil- 
 ful and full of resources, for cases of great urgency 
 are occurring every day which must be treated on the 
 spot; and the fact that agriculture is now assuming 
 the form of a manufacture, in which complicated 
 machinery is employed, has led to the necessity for a 
 decentralization of our present hospital system . Such 
 frightful accidents sometimes take place with our 
 steam thrashing and ploughing machines, that the 
 man dies unles he can be treated upon the spot. 
 
 Cranley Village Hospital. 
 
 Such being the present state of things, we hear with 
 much pleasure that an experiment, hitherto very suc- 
 cessful, is being made in the village of Oranley, near 
 Guildford, in Surrey, to establish a Village Hospital. 
 We do not mean some fine establishment, with a fine 
 
VILLAGE HOSPITALS. 
 
 253 
 
 building, and a Staff wbicli eats away all tlie money, 
 but a simple cottage, with balf-a-dozen beds and one 
 good nurse and general servant. This excellent 
 institution was commenced in 1859 by the medical 
 officer, Mr. Napper, working in conjunction with the 
 clergyman of the parish, the Eev. J. H. Sapte, who 
 is the visitor and manager, and has generously pro- 
 vided the cottage. 
 
 One very important feature of this hospital is that 
 it is not altogether a charity, the patients paying a 
 weekly sum, the amount of which is dependent on 
 their circumstances ; thus the pauperizing influence 
 of a mere charity is avoided, and the strain upon the 
 pockets of almsgivers, already exerted to the utter- 
 most, is not much increased. Of course some sup- 
 plementary aid is required ; but we are glad to And 
 that the expenses of maintaining this institution are 
 so light that a very small subscription among the 
 neighbouring gentry is sufficient for the purpose. 
 
 This Cottage Hospital, which ought to be imitated 
 elsewhere, is fitted up with six beds, and during the 
 year ending October, 1861, twenty-three cases were 
 received and treated, many of them entailing ampu- 
 tations and other operations of a severe character, the 
 majority of which did well. Those who are acquainted 
 with the workings of our hospitals in large towns are 
 aware that one of the great drawbacks to them is the 
 impurity of the atmosphere. Persons coming from 
 the pure air of the country are always liable to suffer 
 ill-health from the foulness of the air in great 
 cities ; but patients taken from the breezy country 
 
254 
 
 VILLAGE HOSPITALS. 
 
 downs find themselves in the very foci of disease in 
 large hospitals. 
 
 Hospital gangrene and pyaomia are the demons 
 of destruction which ever haunt these temples dedi- 
 cated to Hygieia^ and we appeal to any medical reader 
 for a verification of our testimony when we say that 
 in all great operations the mortality is not less than 
 fifty per cent._, the greater part of which is owing to 
 the pestiferous atmosphere which we manufacture by 
 crowding together so many diseased creatures under 
 one roof. The badly wounded agricultural peasant is 
 by the present system transported to a distant city to 
 almost certain death. The superior abilities of the 
 operator avail him nothings for Nature refuses to work 
 with the surgeon^ s knife. We have no hesitation in 
 saying that the statistics of a hundred patients in 
 village hospitals would^ notwithstanding the compara- 
 tive inferiority of the operators to the picked men in 
 great metropolitan institutions^, show a very much 
 higher percentage of cures than in London_, despite 
 the magnificent scale on which hospitals in the latter 
 are conducted. The modest plan on which this 
 little hospital is worked may be gathered from the 
 balance-sheet^ made up to October^ 1861^ by which it 
 appears that the whole expenses for the year were only 
 £140. 9s, 7d,y whilst the receipts were £177. 7s. lld.^ 
 a state of things which many of our larger hospitals 
 might envy. 
 
 We hear that the success of the Cranley Village 
 Hospital has caused similar institutions to be esta- 
 blished in other quarters^ and this is a matter in which 
 
VILLAGE HOSPITALS. 
 
 255 
 
 selfish considerations as well as philanthropic ones 
 should weigh with gentlemen living in the country. 
 If the village doctors_, by means of the training and 
 experience these village hospitals afford^ were all 
 clever operators^ very many valuable lives would be 
 saved that otherwise perish. The fee of a London 
 surgeon^, if summoned any distance^ is so large that 
 none but the wealthy can afford to meet it. Persons 
 of limited means must go to the nearest town^ at a 
 vast inconvenience_, for the very same skill they might 
 get by this decentralizing arrangement at their own 
 doors. In the interest of the poor and the middle 
 classes dwelling in the country^ therefore^ we beg to 
 call the attention of our philanthropic readers to this 
 admirable institution^ in the hope that its example 
 may be followed. 
 
ILLUMINATIONS. 
 
 If we are to judge by the standard of the celebration 
 of the Prince of Wales^s marriage^ the English certainly 
 do not yet understand the art of illuminating. It is 
 true we have not had much practice^ as it is but once 
 in the last twenty years that our streets were ablaze 
 with a public rejoicing ; but in twenty years the world 
 has been transformed^ and we did expect now a little 
 more artistic skill than we witnessed on the marriage 
 of the Queen. But we fear the public at large have no 
 instinct for the beautiful, and do not take kindly to 
 the decorative arts. What acres of bunting and what 
 miles of gas-piping ahght we witnessed during that 
 w^eek, and what distinct impression have they left 
 upon the mind ? An Englishwoman will hang her 
 shawl upon her back in such a manner that it shall 
 look like a boy^s kite ; the Frenchwoman will drape 
 herself with it that it shall set off the figure to the 
 best advantage. 
 
 This instance is very typical of our general unhandi- 
 ness in such matters. How a Frenchman must have 
 raved at the way in which London, for a week, dis- 
 played its flags across every street ! Inspired by the 
 
ILLUMINATIONS. 
 
 257 
 
 genius of the washerwoman^ enormous pieces of 
 coloured bunting have been hanging from ropes^ like 
 so many coloured table-cloths from a clothes-line. 
 To the middle-class Englishman a flag is a flag^ and 
 the manner in which it is arranged has very little to 
 do with it. Such a thing as grouping never occurs 
 to him^ and probably he thinks that to do so would 
 be to hide too much^ not knowing that sometimes 
 the half is better than the whole. In some instances^ 
 where the clothes-line method of flag-hanging was 
 departed from^ even greater absurdities were observ- 
 able. Thus^ at the Ordnance Office^ in Pall Mall^ the 
 whole fa9ade of the building was festooned with 
 buntings v/hich hung against the bare brickwork 
 just like the chains of sausages draping a Christmas 
 turkey ; whilst at the Mansion House the City archi- 
 tect — who should have known better^— apparently 
 ashamed of the handsome Corinthian columns^ mufiled 
 them up from base to summit in red baize_, making 
 them look like so many aldermanic legs in flannel. 
 
 The same want of originality was observable in the 
 illuminating. The tasty Englishman hung out 
 his star upon the external wall with a total disregard 
 to any general effect_, and the first letter of the 
 alphabet was in request to a fearful extent ; indeed 
 we strongly suspect that the old for Victoria has 
 simply been inverted for Alexandra. At all events^ 
 beyond the ‘‘A.’’ and the and the Brunswick 
 
 Star^ the shopkeeping minds of the metropolis never 
 ventured to advance. There were transparencies of 
 the happy pair^ the Princess suffering under a fearful 
 
 s 
 
258 
 
 ILLUMINATIONS, 
 
 obliquity of vision^ and tbe Prince smiling gravely 
 with a bulged cheek ; the motto never venturing 
 beyond the wish May they be happy^^^ which^ to 
 judge from their looks^ they certainly were not when 
 they were taken. The fearfully monotonous effect of 
 such devices repeated by hundreds was an undoubted 
 reproach upon the public taste^ and strongly pointed 
 to the fact that illuminating to be effective should 
 be the result of combined action rather than of indi- 
 vidual effort. What^ for instance^, could have been 
 more simple and effective than the grand double semi- 
 circle of light which met the eye in the Quadrant ? 
 If all the gas of stars that paled their ineffectual fires 
 in back streets where they were never seen had been 
 thrown into one common fund^ there would have been 
 sufficient to have traced St. PauTs and Westminster 
 Abbey in Ijving fire_, and a scene would have been 
 presented to the public mind which never would have 
 been forgotten. We know that the genius of the 
 nation is to do everything for ourselves ; but if we 
 allow the parish authorities to light our streets for us 
 on ordinary occasions^ surely on extraordinary nights 
 of rejoicing we might do the same thing ; and by 
 selecting some striking municipal buildings we may 
 concentrate our means upon it^ so as to produce a 
 noble effect. Indeed^ we have only to look at what 
 was done by the authorities for the public buildings 
 to see that there is plenty of ability at command. 
 The group of buildings by the Exchange^ and the 
 Government offices in Whitehall^ told admirably by 
 the mere force of the uniformity of the style of 
 
ILLUMINATIONS. 
 
 259 
 
 lighting adopted ; whilst the National Gallery^ with 
 its coloured fires and the fountains in the square 
 scattering their shower of silver under the influence 
 of the electric lights was a real success. 
 
 But there was an aerial illumination far more 
 beautiful and poetical than anything that our ugly 
 streets_, cabined and confined as they are^ could 
 show. The spectator^ lifted above in a balloon^ might_, 
 on that nighty have witnessed a scene of surpassing 
 beauty. The attempt to hght the dome of St. PauPs^ 
 partial failure as it was^ yet showed that the true light 
 for illuminating purposes will find its birth in the 
 electric battery. Standing upon Blackfriars Bridge^ 
 we saw the dazzling sun^ planted under the cross of 
 the great cathedral_, sending its vast ray now and then 
 out into the dark void^ lighting up spire after spire^ as 
 though the metropolitan mother- church were counting 
 its distant children^ touching with fiery finger the 
 glittering vanes^ from far-off Bow in the east to 
 Chelsea in the west^ — all the while the great dome 
 itself lay hidden in the darkness of nighty its outline 
 only being marked by the circles of lamps which rose 
 tier above tier^ reminding one of that strange picture 
 by Martin^ Satan in Council/^ in which the sky is : 
 illumined by the like circles of fire. 
 
 On the western verge of the metropolis a sight was 
 witnessed^ for only a few minutes^ which was scarcely 
 less beautiful — the illumination of the summit of the 
 Clock Tower at Westminster. As a distant spectator 
 watched^ he saw what looked like a fairy palace in 
 the air^ the lovely pavilion-like tracery showing all 
 
 s 2 
 
260 
 
 ILLUMINx^ONS. 
 
 its glided outlines like some vision in the Arabian 
 Nights/^ In other directions the distant observer 
 might have seen great statues standing out against 
 the darkness^ lit with all the vividness of day : the 
 Duke of York^ on his tall column; Nelson^ with his 
 sad brow; the Iron Duke^ with truncheon pointing 
 towards his place of sepulture. Meantime^ citywards 
 the flames of fire shone on the summit of the Monu- 
 ment^ and beside the opposite shore a phoenix^ traced 
 in fire^ gleamed from the lofty tower of the glass- 
 works. In the dark night there was something inex- 
 pressibly fine in the appearance of these strange 
 apparitions^ seemingly suspended in the air^ and 
 nearly all illumined by the unearthly electric light. 
 In any futm*e illuminations we hope to see more made 
 of these points, so eminently calculated as they are 
 to produce an abiding impression. 
 
 But we must not forget London Bridge, the dim 
 outlines of which vanished and reappeared with the 
 flickering of the fires in the tripods ranged along its 
 parapet. The statues of the Danish kings, holding 
 aloft their banners, every now and then came into 
 light as the flames blazed up aloft. There was some- 
 thing strangely magnificent in the whole effect, and 
 we congratulate the City architect upon his success in 
 producing a scenic effect which had a touch in it of 
 the grandeur of antique days. Neither must we 
 overlook Temple Bar. Wlio could recognize the old 
 black and grimy gateway in the festal arch, shining 
 in white and gold, adorned with white statues of 
 Hymen flaming his saffron torch, and blazing genially 
 
ILLUMmATIONS. 
 
 261 
 
 with clustered jets of gas ? Never before did the old 
 arch look so jubilant^ and never before_, most certainly^ 
 did it look down upon such a surging^ shrinking multi- 
 tude as that which swayed to and fro like a solid wave 
 beneath its arch. Of all the fearful sights of this 
 nighty when the streets were filled with such a multi- 
 tude as the world has never seen but in the hosts of a 
 Xerxes or a Napoleon^ the most fearful was vdtnessed 
 at this point and in the middle of Ludgate Hill^ where 
 four poor women vioro crushed to death in the frantic 
 crowd. This occurrence was all the more sad^ inas- 
 much as the lighting of the dome of St. Paufis was 
 far more effectively seen from any of the bridges than 
 from the narrow gully in which the crowd was wedged.. 
 Vfe cannot help remarking here^ that we trust on. 
 anjr future occasion carriages will not be allowed to 
 traverse the streets. Half the mischief occurred on 
 this occasion in consequence of the roadway being 
 jammed with vehicles of every description^, which 
 could neither get on themselves nor allow pedestrians 
 to proceed. Those who attempted to ride found out 
 what a hopeless method of progression it was ; and we 
 hope that in future the police will prevent its being 
 adopted_, as it is quite clear that they are utterly 
 powerless to direct its circulation^, or to organize its. 
 progress in any way. 
 
 The use of gas almost entirely displaced the old 
 oil-lamps ; but there was one disadvantage in its 
 adoption — its flickering in the wind^ which we are 
 glad to find was obviated in many instances by the 
 use of screens of crystal drops. By far the most 
 
262 
 
 ILLUMINATIONS. 
 
 perfect illumination in tlie metropolis was tliat of 
 Mr. Harry Emmanuel^ the Court jeweller. Here 
 evidently a true artist had been employed^ and the 
 result was a magnificent piece of illuminated crystal 
 jewellery — ^we can call it by no other name — in which 
 the pattern was formed by very perfect imitations of 
 precious stones. We have spoken rather harshly^ 
 perhaps^ of individual efibrts at illuminating^ but 
 there can be no doubt that this one was absolutely 
 perfect. Poole^ the Princess tailor^ also had a magni- 
 ficent piece of architectural effect in crystal glass_, 
 with coloured shields^ but although more favoured 
 by the crowds it was very far from being so artistic 
 as the gem that shone over the establishment of 
 Mr. Emmanuel. 
 
EAILWAYS, THE GEEAT CIVILIZEES. 
 
 When we contemplate the changes that have 
 been wrought in British society during the last 
 thirty years^ we are lost in astonishment^ and our 
 astonishment is all the more increased when we 
 reflect that these changes have been brought 
 about by the application of forces that had been for 
 half a century already well known. Steam and Elec- 
 tricity — the strong brother and the subtle_, quick- 
 witted sister — have so transformed this island of ours_, 
 that our fathers^ if they could come from their graves^ 
 would scarcely recognize it as the country of their 
 youth. Since the middle of the last century^ the 
 conditions of our locomotive conveniences have been 
 the measure of the civilization of its people. Before 
 the days of Macadam and the accelerated mail system 
 of Palmer^ our great towns were almost as much 
 isolated from each other as islands of the Eastern 
 Archipelago. The distances^ reckoned by time^ were 
 so great^ and the cost of travelling so exorbitant^ 
 that the wealthy only could afford to travel^ and the 
 vast majority of the nation rarely moved further afield 
 than their own immediate neighbourhood. The age 
 
264 RAILWAYS^ THE GREAT CIVILIZERS. 
 
 of stage -coaclies somewliat ameliorated this condition 
 of things^ and distant towns may be said to have 
 become on terms of speaking acquaintanceship. It 
 could not be said_, however^ that in the days of the 
 road any great mutual relationship existed between 
 provincial towns and the metropolis. They retained 
 their distinctive characters up to the time of the last 
 George^ and action or reaction between them_, in a 
 social point of view^ there was none. 
 
 At the entrance of one of the northern railroads 
 there is still preserved the first rude locomotive that 
 ran for passage-traffic on any railroad. This rusty^ 
 clumsy -looking machine changed the face of the 
 world. On its battered boiler may be inscribed with 
 truth the v^ords_, Alone I did it.-’^ When those 
 wheels first revolved_, civilization had entered into a 
 new phase — it began to rush where it had hitherto 
 only crept^ and the momentum gained in a few years 
 seems to be accelerating every day. 
 
 It has often been remarked that one great invention 
 is the inevitable precursor of others equally great to 
 minister to the necessities it has called forth. The 
 Electric Telegraph was the new-comer. All the con- 
 ditions of its existence were already at hand when 
 Wheatstone put them together^ and henceforth the 
 Railway and Telegraph were wedded^ and ran side by 
 side through every civilized land. The first evident 
 fruit of the twin powers was the equalization of prices 
 which it produced throughout the country. The 
 superfluity of one part of the island flowed by a 
 natural law towards the scarcity of another part. 
 
r.AILV/AYS^ THE GREAT CIVILIZERS. 265 
 
 This tendency towards equalization has at length 
 grovm even into an extreme^ which is well expressed 
 by Punch when he asks — What advantage has East- 
 bourne over London ? — ^You get the Times there by 
 nine oYlock ! And what advantage has London over 
 Eastbourne ? — You get all the best and freshest fish 
 there ! The railroad^ like water^ has a tendency to 
 make things find their level. In addition to this great 
 advantage it has resulted in at once rendering available 
 for general use the thousand and one materials that 
 had been formerly precluded from other than local 
 advantage by the charges of conveyance. We may 
 instance the building-stones that are now transported 
 from one side of the island to the other ; the small 
 coal that is now made into blocks^ and brought from 
 distant pits to London ; the fish that is hurried 
 every morning towards London from every sea that 
 washes our shores ; and the fruits of the earth that 
 by a natural gravitation find their way towards the 
 metropolitan mouth. 
 
 Even the horticultural capabilities of our most 
 remote counties have been called out by the luxurious 
 classes of London. Co vent Garden in the early spring 
 is fed by the distant gardens of Cornwall_, where the 
 mildness of the climate produces an earlier vegetation 
 than is found in the eastern districts of the island. 
 All our early peas and potatoes^ which command such 
 extravagant prices at Covent Garden^, are called into 
 existence by the Great Western Eailway. In return 
 for these natural advantages^ which have kept down 
 the price of living in the metropolis — the metropolis^ 
 
266 EAILWAYS^ THE GREAT CIVILIZERS. 
 
 the centre of thouglit^, literature^ and the arts^ spreads 
 her streams of knowledge throughout the island^ and 
 vivifies it with her own intelligence. The railroad and 
 the telegraph are fast breaking down the narrow ideas 
 of a limited society^ and are replacing them every- 
 where with larger views drawn from the life of the 
 nation as a whole. Wherever the great trunk-lines 
 radiate from the metropolis there you will find the 
 propaganda of civilization the strongest. 
 
 A line of railroad is nothing more than a great 
 nerve and a muscle which communicates to its utmost 
 extremity the brain-power of the capital; it is an 
 acoustic tube^ along which vibrate the thoughts and 
 ideas of the rest of the world. There is no such thing 
 now as stale news in our great provincial towns ; the 
 daily broadsheet has been called into life by the 
 electric telegraphy and Edinburghy GlasgoWy Liverpooly 
 Hully and Bristol now know what is going on to the 
 utmost limits of telegraphic communication as soon 
 almost as in London itself. If this were the only 
 fruit of telegraph and raily it would be sufficient to 
 account for the strides civilization has made of late 
 in our island. But the gains are more than we 
 can count. 
 
 The Railway system has been made subservient to 
 a grand educational movement. With a few unim- 
 portant exceptionSy all the bookstalls opened upon 
 the different stations throughout the country have 
 been gradually converted into circulating libraries. 
 Any book a subscriber may desire is ordered by 
 telegraphy and is sent down on one clear day^s notice. 
 
EAILWAYS^ THE GEEAT CIVILIZEES. 267 
 
 Thus the ideas of the capital permeate the whole 
 population along our great lines of rail^ and old 
 modes of thought and action are riven^ as it were_, by 
 these wedges driven throughout the length and breadth 
 of the land. In the slow course of time we shall see 
 provincialism succumb before their pressure^ and the 
 very dialects which now make such a curious patch- 
 work of English as one journeys from north to south 
 will be swept away ; nay^ the written language itself 
 is undergoing certain modifications to suit the exigen- 
 cies of railway despatch. All the superfluous letters 
 are disappearing from the directions on our parcels^ 
 and the cost of transmitting lengthy messages by 
 telegraph has induced a conciseness of expression by 
 which our tongue is likely to gain in compactness 
 what it will lose in picturesque detail. The railway 
 may also be considered a propaganda of archi- 
 tecture j there cannot be the least doubt that the 
 station^ with its airy and spider-web-like roof^ has 
 become the model on which all our great warehouses 
 are being built. Lightness and strength^ produced 
 by a combination of iron and glass^ are everywhere 
 taking the place of those dark and cumbersome 
 structures which of old seemed to be the national 
 expression of the English solidity of character. Nay^, 
 if we mistake not^ this English heaviness is itself 
 being modified^ like its architecture^ by the action of 
 the great civilizing agents. The facility with which 
 young Englishmen move about enlarges their ideas^ 
 and makes them a far more conversable race than 
 were their fathers before them^ and there is_, if we 
 
268 EAILWAYS^ THE GEE AT CIVILIZEES. 
 
 mistake not^ a greater versatility and brightness in 
 their minds. 
 
 There can be no doubt that the whole aspect of 
 what is called good society has been changed since the 
 advent of railroads. Thirty years ago the upper ten 
 thousand were so exclusive that they never seemed 
 to enlarge their boundaries. A new face among 
 society was immediately noted. Now ^^nous avons 
 change tout cela.'’^ With the railway_, town is every 
 season inundated with the representatives of the 
 great moneyed classes^ vfho have found their way into 
 the best society^ and have^ without doubt^ with their 
 new blood brought new ideas. Of old this class, 
 insignificant as it then was, never thought of its 
 season in town,^^ — • now it has become a necessity 
 to them ; and for its accommodation we see the 
 dear and dirty old hotel expanding into the monster 
 hostelries which are rearing their magnificent facades 
 beside all our great railway termini. When this 
 annual wave of provincialism retreats once more into 
 the country, it carries with it the fashions, refinements, 
 and tastes of the better classes ; thus the manners of 
 the whole country are becoming by degrees assimilated 
 to those of the metropolis. And it is not only the 
 moneyed classes who take advantage of the railways to 
 enjoy the season of London, but the very poorest of 
 the poor can now and then, in some cheap trip, come 
 for the day from great distances to see the metropolis. 
 
 It would be a curious calculation to compare the 
 percentage of persons that had travelled a hundred 
 miles from their home thirty years ago with those who 
 
EAILWAYS^ THE GREAT CIVILIZERS. 269 
 
 now do so. The difference would form a good indi- 
 cation of the expansion of ideas among the population. 
 But if the country is getting into the habit of coming 
 up to town^ through the facilities given it by rail- 
 roads^, the town is reciprocating the compliment by 
 retreating into the country. 
 
 Brighton and Back every Sunday for Two Shil- 
 lings and Sixpence here is an astounding fact for 
 the cockney. The railways give him eight hours by 
 the seaside for the sum that it would have cost him^ 
 in the days when George was King^ to get to Rich- 
 mond and back. What to him^ however^ is a luxury, 
 has become to the merchant and professional man a 
 necessity; the five o^clock express to Brighton dots 
 London Bridge with a struggling stream of human 
 life, all pressing to their homes across the Sussex 
 Downs. The same may be said of all our great lines 
 of railways ; the stations within an hour^s ride of town 
 are becoming the centres of towns of villas, and the 
 price of the annual railway-ticket is calculated as a 
 small addition to house-rent. The city of London, 
 through the instrumentality of railways, is emptied 
 overy night, and filled again in the morning. The 
 hard faces that are blanched in the office or counting- 
 house during the day, in the summer evenings recover 
 the florid hue of health in the bright air of sunny 
 retreats, where roses and children bloom. The same 
 process of interchanging city for country life is going 
 on in all our large towns supplied with railways. Can 
 the importance of this influence of the rail upon health 
 be over-estimated? 
 
270 EAILWAYS,, THE GEEAT CIVILIZEES, 
 
 There can be little doubt^ we thinks that the Rail 
 has been mainly instrumental in shortening the hours 
 of labour and of business. Thirty years ago there 
 was no incentive for the City population to close 
 early. The country was so far away that they could 
 not take advantage of spare hours after work was 
 done to get a mouthful of fresh air in the fields ; the 
 Saturday half-holiday would only have been a move- 
 ment in favour of the publicans. Now^ when half an 
 hour takes the pent-up cit to Hampton Courts or in 
 half a dozen directions^ for revival from London 
 smoke^ the habit is growing upon us to fly out into 
 the country as often as possible. As far as the health 
 of the population is concerned^ however^ we think the 
 railroad has not yet been sufficiently utilized in the 
 direction of the working man. The extraordinary 
 increase of value of all building-ground in the metro- 
 polis is beginning to tell most seriously on the 
 working classes ; in order to economize room^ houses 
 are built back to back^ without the slightest attempt 
 at ventilation^ and in these dens the ingenious work- 
 men of London are forced to house themselves. The 
 smallest room cannot be obtained near the heart of 
 the City under five shillings a week^ and for this rent 
 it has been proved over and over again that a cottage_, 
 together with a pass by railway^ may be obtained in 
 good air seven or eight miles from town. Surely^ as 
 Mr. Pearson has pointed ouL if raikoads can carry 
 coals at the low rate they do^ they could afford to 
 carry workmen at an equally low rate. 
 
 We are given to understand that at least one of 
 
EAILWAYS^ THE GEEAT CIVILIZEES. 271 
 
 tlie railway companies has seen the force of this argu- 
 ment^ and is prepared to enter into a contract with an 
 association engaged in building a workman's village^ 
 to bring the men up by an early train in the mornings 
 and carry them home again^ for an annual ticket^ 
 which^ added to the rent^ would still bring it under 
 that charged for the dog-holes which they at present 
 inhabit. Convinced as we are that the very founda- 
 tion of the elevation of the masses lies in the housing 
 question^ we look upon the agency of the railway in 
 this direction as one of the most important social 
 schemes of the day^ and we feel that it is destined 
 to work a revolution in the condition of the bone and 
 sinew of the population of all great towns. Whilst 
 the action of the Rail upon great cities is undoubtedly 
 centripetal^ as we see in the mighty mansions of 
 London and Paris^, since their introduction^ it is at 
 the same time centrifugal^ — wherein lies the secret of 
 its mighty civilizing power. For whilst large aggre- 
 gations of people are necessary to raise the intellect 
 to its highest pitch of refinement and power_, large 
 and constant dispersions of them are imperatively 
 called for to produce that high physical condition on 
 which all sound civilization must rest. We mighty 
 then_, safely assert that the Rail and the Telegraph have 
 accelerated the onward march of the human race in a 
 greater degree than any other human invention since 
 that of Printing and the discovery of the Compass. 
 
BOAT-BUILDING BY MACHINERY. 
 
 Mr. Thompson's system of Boat-building by Machinery^ 
 wbicb has just been introduced to the British public^, 
 is one of the most ingenious applications of labour- 
 saving machines we have yet seen. We have been so 
 accustomed to see Brother Jonathan supersede skilled 
 labour by clever mechanical appliances^ that we cease 
 to wonder at any new contrivance^ and are quite pre- 
 pared to find human fingers improved by him off the 
 face of the earth. The sewing-machine laughs to 
 scorn the fingers of the sempstress ; the labour-saving 
 machinery of Springfield enables us to manufacture 
 every portion of the Enfield rifle without the inter- 
 vention of the human hand ; we reap and mow by the 
 tireless muscles of iron^ instead of those of flesh and 
 blood ; and our own Babbage shows us how to calcu- 
 late by machinery ; yet we question if any great branch 
 of human industry seemed less likely to be invaded 
 by iron limbs than the handicraft of the boat-builder. 
 Wdien we are told that a cutter^ 30 feet in length and 
 of 25 tons burthen^ can be turned out by machinery 
 in five and a half hours^ we have a right to feel 
 
BOAT-BUILDING BY MACHINERY. 
 
 273 
 
 incredulous. a toy boat would take longer. 
 
 Moreover^ tlie application of rigid machinery to such 
 a matter seems incomprehensible. In the lines of a 
 boat not two curves are alike^ and at every step the 
 intelligence of the workman would seem called upon 
 to meet the varying conditions of the task before him ; 
 yet this is just the handicraft the ingenious Hew York 
 mechanic has undertaken to whip out of the fields and 
 we must say he has succeeded in proving that he 
 can do so. 
 
 The factory in which we saw this process at work 
 was situated in the wilds of Bow ; and there was only 
 one man to attend to the different machines. Conse- 
 quently^ it gave no adequate idea of the speed with 
 which the different portions of the boat can be manu- 
 factured when the system is in full work_, and the 
 principle of minute division of labour is carried out by 
 each mechanic working at his limited task. But the 
 visitors saw quickly enough that the different cutters 
 driven by steam beat the efforts of skilled labour ; 
 and^ what is of some importance in these days of 
 trades-unions combinations^ that the work can be pro- 
 duced under the superintendence of persons of very 
 average ability. There are^ we believe^ in the Haval 
 Service twenty-four different patterns of boats^ and 
 in the Mercantile Marine fifteen. The machinery is 
 calculated to produce any of these patterns^ the 
 appliances being adjustable to any size up to that 
 of a yacht of a hundred tons. Every portion of the 
 boat is thus made^ and hand labour is only employed 
 in putting together the different portions^ which fit 
 
 T 
 
274 
 
 BOAT-BUILDma BY MACHINERY. 
 
 quite accurately. Anotlier advantage of Mr. Thomp- 
 son's method is^ that as the different parts are made 
 in exact duplicate^ they are at any time interchange- 
 able j and^ in case of damage to any portion of a boat_, 
 a new piece can be put in without the necessity of the 
 ship-carpenter^s labour. Immense fleets of boats may 
 be packed up and transported from place to place like 
 so many bedsteads_, and then put together again by 
 unskilled persons. 
 
 It is no easy matter to give the general reader 
 an idea of the working of complex machines^, — indeed 
 it is an almost impossible task. We must content 
 ourselves^ therefore^ with noticing the more prominent 
 appliances by which the fifty and upwards distinct 
 operations are carried on. At the very outset our 
 ideas of a boat-builder^s shop are completely violated 
 by the absence of the ordinary tools. Where are the 
 adzes^ hammers^ saws^ and planes we usually meet 
 with in such places ? Instead of them^ a few tables 
 are dotted about here and there_, made of maple or 
 other dark woods_, looking more like pieces of furniture 
 than benches. On these work circular saws or odd- 
 looking cutters^ projecting at an angle from the centre. 
 Powerful nondescript machines loom in the back- 
 ground. Segments of huge barrels_, with moveable 
 hoops — for such they appear to be — puzzle the un- 
 initiated. The circular saw and the simple cutter 
 seem the only instruments employed to perform so 
 many diverse operations. The flrst machine we saw 
 put in action cut the plank to the exact size and 
 bevil it was required to take when flxed upon the 
 
BOAT-BUILDINa BY MACHINERY. 
 
 275 
 
 ribs. Another machine took it within its teeth^ and 
 hollowed out one side^ whilst it gave the other its 
 convex form. Another machine rebated and bearded 
 the keel in a manner which the highest skilled labour 
 would have failed to have performed. The Drunken 
 Saw will excite the admiration of the visitors : by 
 simply fixing a circular saw out of its true plane^ 
 it cuts with astounding rapidity grooves of any 
 width. This simple application of a well-known tool 
 is used in making the trellis-work or gratings which 
 is placed fore and aft in man-of-war boats. In the 
 course of five minutes a yard of this trellis -work was 
 made and put together by one man. The bending 
 of the ribs was the next operation proceeded with. 
 They are steamed in the ordinary way_, and then they 
 are placed on the solid blocks before likened to seg- 
 ments of barrels^ or rather of cones^ for these shapes 
 so vary that a number of different degrees of curvature 
 can be got off each block. To the circumference of 
 this block the rib is bent^ and retained there by a band 
 of iron. It is then placed in the drying-room^ and 
 in an hour it will be fixed in the curve it is desired 
 to take. 
 
 There is a machine to plane the ribs on three sides 
 at once^ and when all the different parts are com- 
 pleted^ an assembling form^ for holding them together 
 while they are fastened in the usual way by bolts and 
 screws : this last operation of fastening is the only one 
 done by manual labour. 
 
 Mr. Thompson tells us that he can erect suflSicient 
 machinery in a space 300 feet long and 150 wide to 
 
 T 2 
 
276 
 
 BOAT-BUILDING BY MACHINERY. 
 
 produce 6_,000 boats a year^ ortliree times the number 
 HOW manufactured in tbe three kingdoms by hand 
 labour. With true Yankee sharpness^ the inventor 
 hints at the tremendous advantage the possession 
 of the sole patent for these machines would confer 
 on any maritime Power having an aggressive turn. 
 There is^ no doubt_, something in this ; but we 
 cannot help reflecting for a moment on the tremen- 
 dous aggressive force possessed by any man of inge- 
 nuity and perseverance over the old handicrafts of 
 the country ; while communities of workmen^ whose 
 occupations were heretofore considered safe heirlooms 
 to the end of time^ are^ one by one^ vanishing before 
 the subtle combinations of the scheming machinist. 
 Howe^ the American^ with his little sewing-machine^ 
 has not only commenced the rout of whole classes 
 of skilled tailors^ but of shoemakers^ sempstresses, 
 and harness-makers. Dr. Dauglish, with his bread- 
 making machine, will sound the first note of the 
 flight of the unwholesome hardworking bakers. The 
 gun-making machines at present employed at Enfield 
 must ultimately destroy the trade of the skilled 
 armourer of Birmingham. 
 
 It is sad to think that whole classes of skilled 
 workmen may be thrown out of employ by the 
 invention of some ingenious machine, or some 
 subtle application of chemistry. The silver-platers 
 of Sheffield possibly thought theirs -would be a staple 
 for ever, when lo ! a little blue spirt of electricity 
 at once takes the bread out of their mouths, and 
 scatters the plating-trade in all directions. This same 
 
BOAT-BUILDING BY MACHINERY. 
 
 277 
 
 blue spirt of electricity lias already begun to under- 
 mine the very feet of our errand-boys^ and where it 
 will end the labour-market little dreams. That society 
 gains by all machinery which helps us to produce 
 cheaply is admitted^ but it cannot be denied that 
 individuals suffer just in proportion as the community 
 is enriched. Craftsmen who have spent their lives 
 in acquiring skill in any particular line^ cannot turn 
 their hands profitably to any new occupation^ and 
 consequently every successful labour-saving machine 
 is a source of great suffering to a few. If our social 
 philosophers could in any way manage to soften the 
 painful transitions which are now perpetually taking 
 place in the labour-market_, they would accomplish 
 a great good. We must all admit the truth of Jeremy 
 Bentham^s proposition^ of The greatest happiness 
 for the greatest number/^ but humanity revolts at the 
 idea of purchasing its infinitesimal blessings at the 
 price of the starvation of its units. 
 
 These reflections are suggested by Mr. Thompson's . 
 idea that his invention will at once sweep away the- 
 greater part of the boat-building trade of the country.. 
 We know that^ happily^ new inventions are not 
 adopted in quite such a hurry as inventors could wish_, 
 but there is a tendency^ we must admit^, to more rapid 
 changes in this direction^ — there are less prejudices 
 against machinery on the part of masters^ and conse- 
 quently we can foresee increased suffering for the men.. 
 Looking at Mr. Thompson's invention in a commercial 
 point of view^ there can be little doubts we think^, of 
 its success. If we are not misinformed^ our Admiralty 
 
278 
 
 ]BOAT-BUILDINa BY MACHINEKY. 
 
 have at once given in^ and boat-building by machinery 
 will reheve our national shipyards of one branch 
 of their labour. If this is the case,, we may feel 
 pretty sure that the Mercantile Marine will not be 
 far behind^ and that the handicraft of the boat-builder 
 is doomed. 
 
ON TAKING A lOITSE, 
 
 In the Vivarium at the Zoological Gardens^ Eegent^s 
 Park^ the curious spectator may watch with interest 
 the actions of the Hermit Crab whilst in search of a 
 new house. The corpus of this crab^ which appears 
 to be of a remarkably jnicy and tender description^ 
 unfortunately comes into the world without that crus- 
 taceous house with which his commoner brethren are 
 provided; consequently he is obliged to seek some 
 habitation built by other architects^ and the domicile 
 he generally prefers is the spiral conch of some defunct 
 whelk. It is the funniest thing to watch him looking 
 out for a new house. With his long claws he turns 
 over the shells that strew the bottom of the vivarium^ 
 and when he sees one to his liking he tries it on with 
 the delicacy of a swelP^ easing on a coat by Stultz. 
 He gently backs in with a wriggle^ backs out^ and tries 
 a fresh method of investiture^ and if it finally is found 
 to fit walks off with the whelk-shell over stones and 
 rocks in the most dainty manner. He is not satisfied 
 long, however, for as his corpus grows, the fit becomes 
 too tight, and larger premises are required. How 
 
280 
 
 ON TAKING A HOUSE. 
 
 many of us are in a dilemma somewhat similar to the 
 hermit crab ! Our premises are getting too small for 
 the increasing family ; consequently we have to crawl 
 and poke over empty whelk-shells scattered about the 
 West End to find one fitted to receive our growing 
 and tender nursery. We don^t know what the feelings 
 of the hermit crab may be at trying on a new whelk^ 
 shelly but this we know^ — a change of house is a thing 
 which disturbs us mightily. Even an old pair of 
 slippers are not easily replaced by new ones. How 
 much^ then^ must a sensitive man dislike to change 
 his house,, full of associations ; where his children 
 have been born and brought up ; behind the doors 
 of which you leave the marks of their growth ; per- 
 chance in whose chambers yet hover the ghosts of 
 departed dear ones ? An old house so grows upon a 
 man that it is some time before he can believe in any 
 other ; it has been^ as it were,, a part of his being, 
 and he can no longer judge fairly of its defects than 
 he could judge rightly of the defects on his own face. 
 What a common thing it is to hear one friend say of 
 another,, I wonder how he can live in such a place.'’^ 
 Possibly he may have wondered himself how he could 
 have done so at firsts but in this instance familiarity 
 breeds quite the opposite feeling to contempt. This 
 settled feelings which every man has,, that, all things 
 considered, his own house is the best within his 
 reach, considerably prejudices him in looking out for 
 a new one. 
 
 When you have really set out in search of a new 
 house, how little the house-agent^s catalogue tells 
 
ON TAKING A HOUSE. 
 
 281 
 
 you ! What brave representations and what bald 
 results encounter you! As well may you depend 
 upon the auction stock phrase_, all that capital mes- 
 suage/^ as upon the descriptions clever agents beguile 
 the public with. When the hunt is not too much 
 prolonged^ there is^ to some^ a singular fascination in 
 looking out for a house. To settle where you shall 
 strike your roots for the next fourteen years is no 
 inconsiderable matter. In a degree it is like moving 
 into a new country. What streets you will have to 
 traverse on your way home^ what is the look-out_, what 
 are the neighbours like^ — all these are questions which 
 are anything but trifles to a man who will be exposed 
 to their influences for years. 
 
 But the aspect of the house itself is enough^ gene- 
 rally^ to determine the choice of a sensitive person. 
 Who^ with a fine sense of the fitness of things^ would 
 willingly^ for instance^ take a house approached by a 
 steep flight of steps ? When a man comes home tired 
 from his day^s work^ his door should seem to welcome 
 him^ instead of repelling by keeping him off until 
 he has performed a certain amount of treadwheel 
 motion. 
 
 In large towns^ and especially in the metropolis^ no 
 house is allowed to have a character of its own^ either 
 good or bad. Our domiciles are like ourselves^ too 
 much alike. How could any man^ possessing a marked 
 individuality^ take a house in Belgravia or Tyburnia^ 
 where whole streets of houses seem cast in moulds^ 
 like so many bullets? What a weariness of mind 
 takes possession of a man who has to perambulate 
 
282 
 
 ON TAKING A HOUSE. 
 
 / 
 
 such, neighbourhoods ! The policeman^ for instance^ 
 whose beat is along Harley Street, or one of those 
 deep trenches — for they can scarcely be called streets — 
 which run north and south, and see the sun but for 
 half an hour in the day, — what vacuity of mind must 
 possess him ! 
 
 That our new neighbourhoods thus finished all to 
 one pattern by some great builder are productive of a 
 certain amount of mental disease we have no doubt. 
 How infinitely preferable to such thoroughfares are 
 those old straggling streets where different men have 
 age after age moulded their houses into a hundred 
 quaint and irregular forms ; even if the forms be ugly 
 they are diverse, and therefore a thousand times more 
 interesting to the eye than the dull monotony of pillar 
 and cornice, cornice and pillar, which the architect 
 fiatters himself represents the grace and purity of 
 some Grecian order. If a man of intellect takes such 
 a house, he takes it as a dog would seek a kennel — 
 merely as a place to go in and out of; it represents 
 no human thought or mental impression. Fancy the 
 difference of feeling the member of some old family 
 must experience on entering his old house at home 
 and his new house in town. This is an extreme case, 
 but it shows how man can stamp his own mind upon 
 even bricks and mortar. 
 
 If a man is on the look-out for a town house, where 
 can he turn in the hope of having his ideas fully 
 satisfied ? At South Kensington they are repeating 
 the errors of Belgravia and Tiburnia ; he feels as 
 much a want of individuality wherever he goes as 
 
ON TAKING A HOUSE. 
 
 283 
 
 a bee must among his honeycomb cells. Ground 
 landlords measure out one^s habitations into limited 
 squares as remorselessly as the instinct of the bee 
 packs together his domiciles into hexagons. 
 
 Any man accustomed to the rambling, irregular 
 nature of country houses, open to the wind and 
 weather on all sides, feels an absolute sense of suffo- 
 cation at being boxed up in a row — crushed in, as it 
 were, by the rank-and-file of houses on either hand, 
 which seem to be continually dressing up to make 
 the sense of suffocation greater. If fashion will 
 crowd together, however, fashionables must expect to 
 be pinched. Yet our great-grandfathers managed to 
 consult fashion and convenience at the same time. 
 There is an old neighbourhood, much beloved of 
 lawyers with large families, which represents the 
 haut ton of houses a hundred and fifty years ago ; 
 Great Ormond Street and Queen Square, Bloomsbury, 
 belong to the period when fardingales were so big 
 that staircases were spacious enough for the passage 
 of a coach. In Great Ormond Street, especially, there 
 are some noble mansions — a little gloomy, perhaps, 
 but stamped with the heavy dignity of the period 
 they represent. The wainscoting of polished oak or 
 cedar may not be quite so lively as a French paper, 
 but possesses much more character; moreover, the 
 possessor was never annoyed to find that his rooms 
 were lined with exactly the same sprig pattern as a 
 score of new houses to the right and left of him. 
 There is something, too, in the fine brickwork of that 
 period, which takes a critical eye. It was substantial 
 
284 
 
 ON TAKING A HOUSE. 
 
 without any pretence^ — unlike our modern mansions_y 
 daubed over with a certain odious cement^ which 
 gives fashionable London the appearance of having 
 been moulded out of mud ; nay^ we are assured that 
 the plaster is_, in some cases^ adulterated with road 
 sweepings_, — hence the stains of green vegetation 
 which make them look so hideous. The author of 
 
 Vanity Fair/^ in taste as in story^ thus reverts 
 to the time of our great- grandfathers_, and his 
 new house in Kensington Palace Gardens may have 
 been one of the old Bloomsbury mansions bodily 
 removed. 
 
 As men must be content to live in streets and rows 
 in great towns^ there is nothing more to be said 
 about the matter ; but there is as much difference^ 
 we contend^ between street and street as between 
 face and face. A street may be gloomy or bright^ 
 damp or dry_, hot or cold^ according to the manner in 
 which it is built and the direction in which it lies. 
 We have already entered our protest against the 
 Harley-street class of thoroughfare^ for the reason 
 that it runs north and souths and rarely lets in the 
 sunlight. But there is another class of street equally 
 objectionable; and as the objection arises out of the 
 cupidity of builders^ we fear it will be an increasing 
 one. We allude to the tendency to build tremen- 
 dously high_, regardless of the width of the roadway. 
 Let us take_, as an instance^, Victoria Street^ West- 
 minster. To justify such elevations^ the thoroughfare 
 should have been double its present width. As it 
 is^ the part that is finished presents such a sullen, 
 
ox TAKING A HOUSE. 
 
 285 
 
 forbidding aspect^ that half the finished houses are 
 imlet, and the builders seem in despair at finishing 
 the gaunt carcases which stand so black and sunless 
 on either hand. Then_, again^ its length is very 
 objectionable. A street of a mile in lengthy even 
 filled^ like Oxford Street^ with shops^ is fatiguing 
 enough; but imagine, good reader, having to tra- 
 verse three or four hundred doors with exactly the 
 same knockers and the same amount of social dis- 
 tinction between servants and visitors in the bell 
 department, with the self-same style of windows and 
 window-blinds ! 
 
 If w'e seek the suburban districts, we are met, for 
 the most part, with the like sameness of design as 
 W'e find in town, though of a different kind. The 
 semi-detached villa is the height of gentility, fitted 
 for genteel people with about £300 a year. How 
 these genteel people can find any pleasure in con- 
 templating a strip of fore-court, misnamed a garden 
 on the strength of a stunted cyprus-tree not much 
 bigger than a fox^s brush, in a centre bed, and a 
 wretched shrub or two at the sides, is always a 
 mystery to us. Do the genteel people who inhabit 
 them never grow sick of contemplating the rows of 
 foxes^ tails, as they pass along in the street ? and are 
 they not tired of the monotonous manner in which 
 the laburnum-trees join hands, as it were, over the 
 damp garden-walls ? and do they not see the imbecility 
 of having to traverse a meandering narrow slip of 
 gravel path, laid out in an artful, romantic manner, 
 with an eye to direct the attention from the ash-pit 
 
286 
 
 ON TAKING A HOUSE. 
 
 behind the laurestinus-bush ? From the thousands of 
 such pretentious mockeries lining our great suburban 
 roads in all directions^ we fear these genteel abodes 
 must exactly hit the taste of a very large percentage 
 of the population. Better far a wayside cottage_, with 
 an ivy-covered porch^ or a clustering jassamine^ 
 picturesque in its weather-worn walls^ and tiles bright 
 with emerald stonecrop. As a rule^ all good suburban 
 houses rather avoid than seek to display their graces 
 to the passer-by. If in your rambles you come upon 
 some old place with its back turned^ curmudgeon-like^ 
 to the road^ be sure the sunlight plays brightly on the 
 other side upon green swards and gay parterres. In 
 house-hunting_, make a point of looking behind these 
 forbidding old houses as eagerly as you would get inside 
 an old convent wall. In the neighbourhood of London 
 there used to be scores of these old mansions^ dull^ 
 demure-looking structures^ generally of red bricky 
 time-stained until they harmonized with the verdure 
 around. At the side^ perhaps^ you would see the 
 black branch of a cedar of Lebanon projecting like a 
 witches lean and meagre arm. These houses are 
 disappearing fasL to make way for the snug citizen^s 
 villa ; but a few yet remain^, to tell us of the 
 stately tastes of those ancestors we are so apt 
 to despise. 
 
 It is among such old places that we generally look 
 for haunted houses. We suppose it is impossible for 
 ghosts to live in well-liL cheerful domiciles ; at all 
 events^ they never take up their quarters in new 
 houses^ and genteel villas they seem to detest; and 
 
ON TAKING A HOUSE. 
 
 287 
 
 we confess we ratlier applaud tlieir taste in this par- 
 ticular. Your fine old solemn mansion is^ however^ 
 sure at some time of its existence to contract a ghost^ 
 and if it is gloomy enough^ or has a dark yew-tree or 
 two shading its courts^ it is pretty sure to keep it. 
 Spiritual personages of all kinds^ from the old monks 
 downwards^ are certain to be associated with comfort- 
 able quarters^ and be sure that a haunted house has 
 some very good parts about it ; an advertisement 
 for one of these afflicted tenements will often succeed 
 in procuring the very kind of place a person with a 
 little poetry in his composition would like to have. 
 There is another kind of haunted house^ however^ 
 which always strikes us with dismay — the house 
 haunted by the Court of Chancery. In the country 
 there may be something sentimental in the dreary^ 
 hopeless state of a human habitation^ as poor Hood 
 has shown ; but there is something horribly repulsive 
 in the appearance of a house in town in this deplorable 
 condition. There is a place on Snow Hill which is 
 slowly perishing of law^ dirt^ and filthy in the midst 
 of the ever-flowing stream of human life ; and in 
 Stamford Street Southwark^ again^ there are several 
 in a like condition — their windov/s smashed_, their 
 paint decayed^ and the ironwork rusting^, but still 
 holding out — ghastly spectacles of the self-imposed 
 ruin of their owners. Sometimes the bill-stickers 
 will boldly take possession ; and we remember a house 
 in Long Acre that was in this way pasted up_, her- 
 metically sealed^ by huge posters^ displaying gigantic 
 trowsers equally tenantless. 
 
288 
 
 ON TAKING A HOUSE. 
 
 Wliat a cliapter might be written on the class of 
 Arabs who take care of houses ! This subject^ how- 
 ever^ is a psychological study that cannot be discussed 
 at the end of an article_, and we may take another 
 opportunity of considering the subject in the light it 
 deserves. 
 
THE EEEECTS OF EAILWAY 
 TEA YELLING HPON HEALTH. 
 
 The Editor of the Lancet has published a series of 
 sensation articles on this interesting subject. 
 We have been so long accustomed to consider 
 the Railway as a means of redressing the evils 
 consequent upon continuous labour in crowded 
 cities^ that we are somewhat startled to find it 
 looked upon askant by medical authorities. The 
 means of escaping from the over-fatigues of com- 
 mercial and professional life are denounced as produc- 
 tive of evils even of a more deadly nature. This is a 
 matter which directly affects the daily habits of 
 thousands of the flower of the metropolitan popula- 
 tion. The bankers^ the lawyers^ the merchants^ and 
 even the retail tradesmen have been migrating every 
 afternoon from this brick Babel of ours to the quiet 
 and seclusion of the country. Villages of luxurious 
 villas have sprung up along the lines of our railroads^ 
 and Brighton has, in fact^ been rendered a mere 
 suburb of the metropolis by the aid of the five o^clock 
 express. The early morning sees these human 
 
 u 
 
290 
 
 THE EFFECTS OF 
 
 swallows return^ and the steady sterling Englishman 
 who never strayed of old beyond the sound of Bow 
 Bells^ is now become a bird of rapid passage. All he 
 loves lies far beyond his ken^ far away over the breezy 
 doAvns or bright pastures. To fly by night to the sea- 
 coast^ he takes the train_, as his father would an 
 omnibus journey to Brompton^ and the season ticket 
 which enables him to do his hundred miles a day 
 is reckoned as a portion of his rent. But is this rapid 
 change of venue a thing of such unmixed good ? This 
 question has been gravely asked^ and we think 
 answered^ in the most unmistakable manner^ in the 
 negative. Take a glance at the stream of respectable 
 men^ carpet-bag in hand^ to be seen hurrying over 
 London Bridge any evening about a quarter to flve. 
 You see at a glance that they are well-to-do citizens_, 
 who have attained_, if not passed^ the prime of life. 
 Indeed^, it is only Paterfamilias who can aSbrd to 
 indulge in his marine villa. Now^ it so happens that 
 this specimen of humanity is the very worst that could 
 be selected for this daily process of being twice 
 bumped or concussed across the South Downs. Dr. 
 Waller Lewis^ in his report to the Lancet, tells us that 
 it is practically known that only young and selected 
 men can be found to bear the wear and tear of acting 
 as travelling Post-oflice clerks^ sorters^ and guards on 
 the great lines of railway^, and that only those are 
 allowed to do the duty. Drivers and stokers are 
 selected in the same careful manner by the railway 
 medical officials. Yet your rich stockbroker or 
 merchant with a well-filled purse^ and possibly a 
 
EAILWAY TRAVELLING UPON HEALTH. 
 
 291 
 
 fatty heart/^ tMiiks that he can undertake the same 
 duty^ and flatters himself that he catches health as he 
 flies. We believe this to be one of the great delusions 
 of the mercantile worlds and that Brighton season 
 tickets have been guilty of more premature deaths to 
 respectable gentlemen than the worst air of the worst 
 part of the metropolis ever has. To begin — the 
 hurry and distress of mind to make his business fit so 
 that he shall not lose his train and his dinner, is in 
 itself a source of daily worry to Paterfamilias which 
 he scarcely realizes himself. Then the hurry to the 
 station, the dodging the crowd on the bridge, and 
 the rush for tickets, is in itself a serious cause of 
 mental perturbation. We put it to any Brighton 
 season-ticket holder whether he is not at times obliged 
 to run to catch his train, and we beg to say that 
 gentlemen who have lost the bend in their backs 
 cannot always run with impunity. A friend tells us 
 that he was greatly surprised some time since to find a 
 gentleman sitting in a chair, with a handkerchief over 
 his face, in the open space where they take tickets at 
 the London Bridge Station : on inquiry of one of the 
 porters, he was told that he had just dropped down 
 dead in the room after running to save the train. It 
 is not often that we see such an awful example of the 
 effects of forced bustle thus dramatically placed before 
 our eyes, but be sure that scores of persons drop down 
 dead in the counting-house, or sleep the last sleep in 
 their beds, from this very cause. True, there are some 
 men who keep stop-watches, and who seem born 
 merely to mark exact time, who are not put out by 
 
292 
 
 THE EFFECTS OF 
 
 this daily struggle to fit their minutes ; but these are 
 not made of the finest clay — these are not over- 
 burthened with that nervous sensibility which is never 
 absent from high-class organizations, and may bear 
 the fret with impunity ; but to the average or better- 
 class man this kind of preparation entirely disturbs 
 his equanimity before he puts his foot into the rail- 
 way carriage. And here the worry to his nervous 
 system only exchanges its moral for a physical cause. 
 Every man who has travelled by railway must have 
 perceived that, notwithstanding all the appliances to 
 minister to his comfort, he is fatigued in a much 
 shorter time by this method of conveyance than by 
 the rougher journey by comxmon road. He feels quite 
 sore and tired, although he may not have moved — his 
 head aches, and he feels sick ; all these are symptoms 
 of concussion of the brain and spinal marrow, and 
 they are, in fact, direct consequences of that cause. 
 When a collision takes place we have concussion in its 
 active form, and mortal injury is done in a moment to 
 passengers exposed to its effects ; but in ordinary 
 express travelling, especially on the narrow-gauge 
 lines, the whole journey is made up of an infinite 
 series of minute shocks. ^‘^Man and wife,^^ as George 
 Stephenson called the wheel and rail, do not agree. 
 As the carriage oscillates at high speed, the former is 
 continually jolting against the latter, and at every ten 
 or twelve feet the joints of the rails, v/hich are very 
 imperfectly made, cause a jerking motion. In passing 
 rapidly round curves, the oscillation is sometimes 
 frightful, and it is this action wdiich produces the 
 
EAILWAY TEAVELLING UPON HEALTH. 
 
 293 
 
 sense of fatigue and soreness felt in the back_, after 
 taking long journeys by express. The reason is 
 obvious. The great nervous high road traversing the 
 spine has to be protected from shock or motion as 
 carefully as a transit instrument in an observatory; 
 and in order to accomj)lish this^ the long case in 
 which it is enclosed is padded in every direction^ and 
 innumerable fine ligaments and muscles are attached 
 to it in order that it may be automatically kept 
 in its normal position. Now^ the tumbling and 
 jolting of the carriage are constantly calling forth 
 this automatic action of the muscles : hence the 
 tiredness and soreness we experience after a pro- 
 tracted journey. In the well-padded first-class 
 carriages this motion is not so much felt^ but in the 
 second and third it is very obvious. The hard 
 wooden seats and backs convey the motion direct to 
 the body_, and especially so when the head is inclined 
 against the back^ as in that case the minute concus- 
 sions are carried directly by the bony case of the skull 
 to the brain^ and headache and nausea are the imme- 
 diate results. Persons should never go to sleep so 
 touching the woodwork^ as the result is sure to be 
 injurious. Persons who live_, as it were^ upon the rail^ 
 find it absolutely cheaper^ on the score of healthy to 
 travel in fxrst-class carriages^ in order to avoid the 
 unnecessary evils which penurious Directors inflict - 
 upon those in the second. But the nervous system is 
 reached also by the special senses ; the perpetual 
 grating and grinding of wheels upon rails keeps the; 
 tympanum of the ear in constant agitation^ and tho 
 
294 
 
 THE EFFECTS OF 
 
 eye is tired by the rapid fliglit of objects. Tbus for 
 two hours daily the Brighton season-ticket holder is 
 subjected to nervous concussions and assaults^ con- 
 veyed to him by half-a-dozen different avenues. Can 
 it be wondered at that^ with the feeble and middle- 
 aged^ the process is sure to be detrimental ? It 
 may have been observed/^ says the Lancet, that the 
 Brighton season-ticket holders rapidly age/^ and 
 certainly we could expect no other result from the 
 pounding of the nervous system to which they volun- 
 tarily submit themselves^ under the mistaken idea 
 that they are in search of health. We feel bound to 
 say^ however^ that well-selected lives^ at an early age^ 
 seem to take no injury from daily travelling on rail- 
 ways. Dr. Waller Lewis even says that some of the 
 letter-sorters and clerks in the flying post-office 
 actually improve in health and get fat after a few 
 months journeying in this manner. But they have 
 none of the preliminary worry which ordinary pas- 
 sengers have to go through. It is their business 
 to start every day at a certain time^ and they have 
 not to struggle for tickets. Dr. Lewis has much 
 mitigated the evils which arise from concussion^ by 
 providing the officials with caoutchouc mats. WTiy 
 should not Railway Directors follow this excellent lead ? 
 or why^ again we may ask, do they not supply some 
 proper means of ventilation ? As it is, when the 
 carriages are full, we must either close the windows, 
 and suffer all the evils of foul air, or subject ourselves 
 to a hurricane by pulling them open. And why 
 should we not have our carriages warmed ? Cold is 
 
EAILWAY TRAYELLmG UPON HEALTH. 
 
 295 
 
 one of the great antagonists with which the railway 
 passenger has to contend in winter. A night journey 
 to the North is one of the most depressing things in 
 life_, for however we may wrap ourselves up^ the dawn 
 of morning always finds us out. We very much ques- 
 tion if old stage-coach passengers felt so chilled even 
 in crossing Hounslow Heath in the olden time^ as a 
 second-class passenger feels in the railroad carriage in 
 winter after a long ride ; and the reason is obvious^ — 
 rushing through the air at the rate express trains go 
 necessarily intensifies the cold to an alarming degree^ 
 and the wrappers and furs that would be ample for 
 ordinary temperatures are found to be far from suffi- 
 cient for the cramped passenger in the arctic night of 
 a railway carriage. 
 
 As railway travelling is at present conducted^ we 
 cannot in the least doubt that the use of daily season 
 tickets for such lengths as between London and 
 Brighton is a gross violation of the laws of healthy 
 and that those who use them^ in the majority of cases^ 
 are riding to their own destruction. We are given to 
 understand that people are finding this out^ and that a 
 great decrease in the issue of long-journey season 
 tickets is the result. But we cannot help thinking 
 that as regards short suburban journeys the gain is 
 entirely on the side of the new method of transit. 
 We are now speaking of those who can afford to ride 
 in first-class padded carriages ; second-class riders 
 must suffer if they have to perform their journeys in 
 mere wooden boxes^ made as uncomfortable as pos- 
 sible^ apparently on principle. Since the injurious 
 
296 
 
 THE EFFECTS OF EAILWAY TEA YELLING. 
 
 nature of these unstuffed carriages has been demon- 
 strated^ we think Directors should be forced to fit 
 them up in a better manner. The advantages of 
 transporting our toiling population from crowded 
 cities to the good air of the country are immeasurably 
 greater than the evil done by the half-hour^ s journey^ 
 performed at low velocities^ which is sufficient to reach 
 the most secluded and healthy country districts. 
 
PHOTOGKAPHIC POETEAITUEE. 
 
 Ten years ago^ when the miniature-room of the Royal 
 Academy used to be mobbed by fair women^ bent 
 either upon criticising their friends or furtively 
 admiring their own portraits^ who could have foreseen 
 that Sol was about to wrest the pencil from the hand 
 of the cunning limner^ and annihilate one of the oldest 
 callings connected with the Fine Arts? The income 
 of a Thorbnrn or a Ross seemed as assured as that of 
 an archbishop against change or curtailment^, and no 
 high-born lady^s boudoir was complete without a 
 portrait of herself paid for at a princely price. The 
 introduction of the Daguerreotype process^ some five- 
 and- twenty years ago^ seemed only to fix more firmly 
 the claims of the brush against the art of the photo- 
 grapher. Tompkins or Hopkins may submit to go 
 down to posterity as livid corpse-like personages; 
 but the Lady Blanche or the fair Geraldine^ forbid 
 iL oh Heavens ! Presently_, however^ Fox Talbot 
 appeared upon the scene^ and the dull metal_, which 
 only enabled you to see your friend glaring at you at 
 an almost impossible angle_, gave way to photography^ 
 in which the image was fixed upon paper. The 
 
298 
 
 PHOTOGEAPHIC POETEAITUEE. 
 
 / 
 
 Collodion process followed^ and from this moment the 
 occupation of the miniature-painter was gone. A 
 truer draughtsman than either Thorburn^ Ross^ or 
 Cooper of old had appeared on the scene^ and year 
 by year we looked with a diminished interest for 
 England's beauties in the miniature-room of the Royal 
 Academy screen. 
 
 Our International Exhibitions^ in these days of rapid 
 progress^ serve the purpose of estimating our advance- 
 ment since the last decade ; and in no department of 
 science or industrial art had such an advance been 
 made^ between the years 1851 and 1862^ as in that 
 of Photography. In the former year_, a few portraits 
 exhibited by Messrs. Henneman of Regent Street^ 
 who at that time held the exclusive patent to produce 
 photographs by Mr. Fox TalboPs process^ represented 
 the art as it then existed. In 1862^ the splendid 
 collection of sun-pictures in the glass-room of the 
 International excited the admiration of visitors to 
 such a degree^ that exclamations were heard on all 
 hands against the Council for placing them in such an 
 out-of-the-way place in the building. 
 
 Photography has now become an institution ; its 
 professors are counted by the thousand in the metro- 
 polis alone^ and portraits^ once obtainable only by the 
 rich^ now hang on the walls of the meanest cottage. 
 Take a walk down the New Cut^ Seven Dials^ or any 
 other unsavoury locality^ and there you will see how 
 Sally the cook and Billy the potman^ or the wooden 
 visage of Policeman are exhibited to an admiring 
 New Cut circle ; and who shall say that^ if not quite 
 
PHOTOGEAPHIC POETEAITUEE. 
 
 299 
 
 SO fine^ yet that they do not look far more natural 
 than ^‘’portraits in this style^ IO5. Qd,” of a dozen 
 years ago ? 
 
 But every art that ministers to the vanities of the’* 
 public is liable every now and then to run riot in 
 matters of taste ; and so it is with photographic por- 
 traiture. Let us take the carte-de-visite mania for 
 example^ and turn over the album at home^ which by 
 mutual exchanges contains all our friends. There is 
 Mrs. Jones^ for instance^ who does the honours of her 
 little semi-detached villa so well : how does she come 
 to stand in that park-like pleasure-ground^ when we 
 know that her belongings and surroundings donT 
 warrant more than a little back-garden big enough to 
 grow a few crocuses ? Or Miss Brown^ again_, why 
 should she shiver in a ball-dress on a verandah_, and 
 why should we be called upon — instead of looking at 
 her good honest face — ^to admire the far stretching 
 lake-like prospect at her back? Then there^s Mr. 
 Robinson_, standing in a library with a heap of 
 books put within reach of his hand. 'Now^ all 
 Mr. Robinson^s little world know that he never 
 looked into any book but a ledger in his life. It will 
 be observed that it is the photographic artists who 
 court the lower stratum of the middle class^ who most 
 delight in these scenic arrangements; and no doubt 
 they know what they are about. But sometimes it 
 happens that people who ought to know better permit 
 themselves to be made the lay-figures of the photo- 
 grapher's ideal landscapes. We suppose that beset- 
 ting evil of society^ the love of appearing what 
 
300 
 
 PHOTOGRAPHIC PORTRAITURE. 
 
 Yie are uot^ is at the bottom of this small but very 
 prevalent sin. 
 
 If the class of individuals who love to be surrounded 
 with these fictitious landscapes had the slightest know- 
 ledge of art^ they would perceive that^ independently 
 of the humbug/^ the cutting up of a portrait with 
 balustrades_, pillars^ and gay parterres is fatal to the 
 effect of the figure^, which should be the only object to 
 strike the eye. For instance^ we saw the other day a 
 carte de visite in which a young lady was represented 
 readings with her back to an ornamental piece of 
 water^ on which two swans were sailings and appeared 
 to be grubbing with their bills at the sash behind her 
 back. Again^ there is a portrait of Her Majesty to 
 be seen in the shop-windows^ in which she is so posed 
 that a tuft of verdure in the background appears to 
 form a head-dress such as Eed Indians wear — the 
 ludicrous effect of which may be imagined. 
 
 It must be confessed that the Eoyal Family have 
 fallen into very bad hands^ for their photographs are^ 
 one and all^ slanders upon the Royal race. There is 
 one of the Queen and Prince Albert standing up 
 looking at each other like two wooden dolls ; and there 
 is another of the Princess Beatrice seated upon a 
 table^ with her frock so disposed that it appears to 
 form but one piece with the tablecloth^ the effect 
 being that this infant of five seems planted upon the 
 full-blown crinoline of a woman of forty. The Heir- 
 Apparent and his young wife fare no better ; indeed_, 
 the familiarities taken with the future King and Queen 
 of England are of a far more offensive kind^ as they 
 
PHOTOGEAPHIC POETRAITURE. 
 
 301 
 
 sin against propriety and good taste rather than 
 against artistic rules. What would have been thought 
 of Sir Thomas Lawrence if he had left us portraits 
 of the Prince of Wales and Caroline of Brunswick 
 indulging in those little familiarities which lookers-on 
 goodnaturedly avoid seeing? But the Photographer 
 Boyal of Bruxelles has not hesitated to take advan- 
 tage of the natural frankness and amiability of their 
 Boyal Highnesses, to pose them in a manner which, 
 to say the least of it, jars on the good taste of 
 the fastidious beholder. Princes of the most exalted 
 rank clasp each othePs hands, we suppose, like 
 other people, and an arm rests as naturally around 
 a Boyal neck as it would round a peasant's; but there 
 is a sense of propriety about these matters, without 
 being prudish, which all understand but this unlucky 
 photographer. 
 
 No photographic portrait looks so well as one with 
 a perfectly plain background ; and we advise all our 
 readers to avoid those who put us into splendid 
 domains and far- stretching forests, either with or 
 without our will. But there is the question of 
 dressing to sit to the sun just as there would be 
 to a Boss or a Wells — indeed, the sun is more 
 exacting than either of those artists. 
 
 If the photograph is to be coloured, it matters little 
 what the tint of the costume may be as far as the 
 fidelity of the portrait is concerned ; but it is other- 
 wise with those that are to remain plain. For 
 instance, an English ofiicer taken in his uniform is 
 surprised to find that instead of a shade representing 
 
302 
 
 PHOTOGEAPHIC POETEAITUKE. 
 
 red it turns out black. The charming mauve of a 
 lady^s bonnet is transformed into white in the same 
 manner. On the contrary^ a yellow dress is repre- 
 sented in a photograph by pure black. The reason 
 of this is that the blue rays of the spectrum (and all 
 the intermediate shades of mauve^ purple^ puce^ 
 lavender^ &c.^ in a more or less degree) act upon 
 the nitrate of silver of the negative in a most 
 powerful manner^ whilst the yellow ray does not 
 ajBTect it at all : this may be seen by a visit to the 
 photographer's room where he prepares his plates^ 
 the windows of which are shaded with a yellow blind 
 to prevent the light affecting them. Now, as the 
 positives, or portraits, are printed from the glass 
 negatives by the simple plan of allowing the light 
 to fall through them upon the prepared paper, the 
 lights and shades must be reversed. 
 
 The moral to be drawn from this little story is, not 
 to indulge in the colours we have mentioned when we 
 visit the photographer. The good sense and the good 
 taste of most ladies lead them to this conclusion, 
 however, without knowing , anything of the chemistry 
 of the matter ; and black silk • is now almost univer- 
 sally worn for photographic purposes. Mind, good 
 reader, it must be. silk, not bombazine, or any of the 
 cotton varieties of black, as the admirable effect of 
 silk depends upon its gloss, which makes the garment 
 full of those subdued and reflected lights which give 
 motion and play to the drapery. A dead-black cotton 
 or woollen material would be represented by a uniform 
 blotch, like a smear of soot ; and a white dress, on 
 
PHOTOGEAPHIC POETRAITUEE. 
 
 303 
 
 the other hand^ would appear like a flat film of wax^ 
 or a piece of cardboard. A combination of black 
 net over white is^ however^ very effective ; and an 
 admirable softness and depth of colour is given to 
 a photograph by the use of sealskin or velvet. 
 This^ though but the millinery of the art, is very 
 necessary to be attended to, as otherwise the efforts 
 of the best photographer will be of no avail. 
 
 The commercial value of the human face was never 
 tested to such an extent as it is at the present moment 
 in these handy photographs. No man, or woman 
 either, knows but that some accident may elevate 
 them to the position of the hero of the hour, and 
 send up the value of their countenances to a degree 
 they never dreamed of. For instance, after the great 
 fight with Heenan, Tom Sayers was beset by photo- 
 graphers, anxious for the honour of paying for a 
 sitting j but his reply was, It’s no good, gentlemen^ 
 Pve been and sold my mug to Mr. Newbold,^^ that 
 sporting publisher having seen betimes the advan- 
 tage of securing the copyright of his phiz. Thus a 
 new source of income has. been opened to first-rate 
 photographers, besides 4he profit arising from taking 
 portraits. A wholesale trade has sprung up with 
 amazing rapidity, and to obtain a. good sitter, and 
 his permission to sell his carte de A^isite, is in itself *an 
 annuity to a man. For instance, all our public men 
 are what is termed in the trade sure cards there, 
 is a constant demand for them — a much greater one, 
 indeed, than can be supplied. It must be remembered 
 that every picture has to be printed from the original 
 
304 
 
 PHOTOGEAPHIC POETRAITURE. 
 
 negative^ and the success of the printing process 
 depends upon the weather ; in foggy^ dark days no 
 impressions can be taken from the negative. It is 
 true that negatives can be taken from positives^ or 
 from cartes de visite already in existence ; but the 
 result is a deterioration of the portrait^ a plan never 
 resorted to by first-class photographers such as Lock 
 and Whitfield^ or Silvy^ although dishonest persons 
 are to be found who will commit piracy in this manner 
 for money. 
 
 The public are little aware of the enormous sale of 
 the cartes^ de visite of celebrated persons. An order 
 will be given by a wholesale house for 10^000 of one 
 individual — thus £400 will be put into the lucky 
 photographer's pocket who happens to possess the 
 negative. As might have been expected^ the chief 
 demand is for the members of the Royal Family. 
 Her Majesty^s portraits^ wFich Mr. Mayall alone has 
 taken^ sell by the 100^000. Ho greater tribute to 
 the memory of his late Royal Highness the Prince 
 Consort could have been paid than the fact that within 
 one w^eek from his decease no less than 70^,000 of 
 his cartes de visite were ordered from the house of 
 Marion & Co._, of Regent Street. This house is by 
 far the largest dealer in cartes de visite in the country ; 
 indeed^ they do as much as all the other houses put 
 together. The wholesale department of this estab- 
 lishment^ devoted to these portraits^ is in itself a 
 sight. To this centre fiow all the photographs in the 
 country that will run.^^ Packed in the drawers and 
 on the shelves are the representatives of thousands of 
 
PHOTOGRAPHIC PORTRAITURE. 
 
 305 
 
 Englishwomen and Englishmen awaiting to be shuffled 
 out to all the leading shops in the country. 
 
 What a collection of British faces ! If a box or 
 two of them 'were to be sealed up and buried deep 
 in the ground^ to be dug up two or three centuries 
 hence^ what a prize they would be to the for- 
 tunate finder ! Hitherto we have only known our 
 ancestors through the pencils of certain great artists^ 
 and the sitters themselves have all belonged to the 
 highest class. Hence we are apt to attribute certain 
 leading expressions of countenance to our progenitors 
 which are rather owing to the mannerism of the 
 painters than to the sitters. Thus all Eeynolds^s 
 beauties possess a certain look in common ; if we 
 believed his brush without any reserve^ we should 
 fancy that the English race of the latter part of the 
 last century were the noblest-looking beings that 
 ever trod the earth. No portrait of man or woman 
 ever came from his easel with a mean look. The same 
 may be said of those of Gainsborough and Hoppner^ 
 and the result is that all our knowledge of the faces of 
 the last century is purely conventional. But it is far 
 different with the carte de visile. Here we have the 
 very lines that Nature has engraven on our faces^ and 
 it can be said of them that no two are alike. The 
 price^ again^ enables all the better middle class to have 
 their portraits ; and by the system of exchange^ forty 
 of their friends (happy delusion) for two guineas ! 
 
 Let us imagine,, then^ a box of such pictures dis- 
 covered of the time of the Commonwealth^ for instance^ 
 or a few years later. What would we give to have 
 
 X 
 
806 
 
 PHOTOGEAPHIC POETRAITUEE. 
 
 such pictures of old Pepys^ his wife^ and Mistress Nip ? 
 Yet treasures such as these we shall be able to hand 
 down to our posterity ; for there is little doubt that 
 photographs of the present day will remain perfect^ if 
 carefully preserved^ for generations. Some of our 
 leading photographers have the negatives of sitters in 
 number equal to the inhabitants of a large country 
 town^ and our great thoroughfares are filled with 
 photographers ; there are not less than thirty-five in 
 Regent Street alone^ and every suburban road swarms 
 with them. Can we doubt^ therefore^ that photo- 
 graphic portraits have been taken by the million? 
 Out of these the great wholesale houses^ such as 
 Marion & Co._, have the pick. Every day brings up 
 scores of offers of portraits^ which are accepted or 
 not^ according to circumstances. In many cases the 
 sale is wholly locals in others nearly wholly metro- 
 politan. Some have a perpetual sale ; others_, again, 
 run like wildfire for a day, and then fall a dead letter. 
 Some special circumstance or action scatters these 
 portraits wholesale : for instance, the pluck displayed 
 by the Queen of Naples resulted in a sale of 20,000 
 of her portraits ; and Miss Jolly was not long ago the 
 rage in Ireland. The sudden death of a great man, 
 as we have before said, is immediately made known 
 to the wholesale carte de visite houses by an influx of 
 orders by telegraph. When the report Avas abroad 
 that Lord Palmerston was dead, his carte de visite was 
 immediately in enormous request j and Lord Herbert 
 to this day sells as well as any living celebrity. 
 
 Literary men have a constant sale : Dickens, 
 
PHOTOaEAPHIC POETEAITUEE. 
 
 307 
 
 Thackeray_, and Trollope are bought for every album. 
 Scientific men^ again_, sell well ; but theatrical or 
 operatic celebrities have a run for a short time^ owing 
 to some successful performance^ and then are not 
 sought for more. The series of Mademoiselle Patti 
 has_, however^ already circulated to the extent of 
 40^000 copies. It is a curious fact that the cartes de 
 visite have for the present entirely superseded all other 
 sized photographic portraits. This is rather singular^, 
 inasmuch as we did not adopt it until it had been 
 popular in Paris for three years. Possibly however_, 
 the rage has its foundation in two causes. In the 
 first place^ a carte-de-visite portrait is really a more 
 agreeable-looking likeness than larger ones ; it is 
 taken with the middle of the lens^ where it is truest ; 
 hence it is never out in drawing : and then^ again^ it 
 rather hides than exaggerates any little roughness of 
 the face^ which is so apparent in large-sized portraits. 
 Secondly_, when a man can get forty portraits for a 
 couple of guineas^ his vanity is fiattered by being able 
 to distribute his surplus copies among his friends. It 
 enables every one to possess a picture-gallery of those 
 he cares about^ as well as those he does not^ for we 
 are convinced some people collect them for the mere 
 vanity of showings or pretending^ they have a large 
 acquaintance. There is still another advantage : cartes 
 de visite are taken two at a time^ stereoscopically — that 
 is^ a little out of the same line; hence solid portraits 
 can be produced by the aid of the stereoscope. 
 
 When we remember the old style of portrait we 
 were obliged to be contented with ; the horrible 
 
 X 2 
 
308 
 
 PHOTOGRAPHIC PORTRAITURE. 
 
 limning a lover got of liis mistress for five guineas ; 
 the old monthly-nurses they made of our mothers ; 
 and the resplendent maiden aunts^ with their gold 
 chains^ watches^ and frightful turbans ; and the race 
 of fathers we keep by us in old drawers^ gentlemen 
 built up stiflBy^ and all alike in blue coats and 
 brass buttons^ with huge towels round their necks 
 by way of cravats ; when we remember the art at the 
 command of the middle classes not forty years since^ 
 we are deeply thankful for the kindness of Sol in taking 
 up the pencil and giving us a glimpse of Nature once 
 more. But even the great Apollo himself has his 
 mannerism^ and it is easy enough to detect a Lock & 
 Whitfield^ a Mayall^ a Herbert Watkins^ a Maull & 
 Polyblank^ or a Claudet carte de visite by the manner 
 in which it is posed^ or the arrangement of the light 
 upon it. It is a great mistake to suppose that the 
 art of portrait-taking has degenerated into a mere 
 mechanical trade ; the difference between a good 
 photographic portrait and a bad one is nearly as 
 great as between a good miniature and a bad one. 
 How difficult it is to pose a sitter well^ and how this 
 difficulty is increased where the artist has to work 
 with the sun ! Of old_, in the course of three or four 
 sittings^, the natural attitude and best expression of 
 the sitter was pretty sure to come out ; but now the 
 difficulty is greatly increased — when a picture has to 
 be taken^ say^ in half- a- minute^ wdiat natural apti- 
 tude the photographic artist ought to possess^ to seize 
 the best attitude and position at once. To produce 
 a good photograph it requires a thoroughly artistic 
 
PHOTOGRAPHIC PORTRAITURE. 
 
 309 
 
 hand^ and that hand must work_, also^ with the best 
 tools ; consequently^ the lenses now in use for first- 
 rate work are exceedingly valuable^ and the stock of 
 cameras required by the producers of our best cartes 
 de visits costs a little fortune. 
 
 Then there are^ in addition^ all the accessories to 
 make up backgrounds — properties^ in fact (which we 
 have denounced) — the most elaborate carved wood- 
 Avork^ the rarest statuettes^ shifted and combined in 
 endless variety^ so as to give every portrait some 
 distinctive character of its own. All these things cost 
 money^ and the tendency is to throw the best business 
 into the hands of a few skilled capitalists ; and in 
 London half-a-dozen men entirely command the 
 patronage of the fashionable part of the community. 
 
 The establishment of a first-rate photographer is at 
 the same time a counting-house_, a laboratory^ and a 
 printing establishment. One room is found to be full 
 of clerks keeping the books_, for at the West End 
 credit must be given ; in another a score of employ^ 
 are printing from the negatives. In a third room are 
 all the chemicals for preparing the plates ; and again 
 in another we see a heap of crucibles glittering with 
 silver. All the clippings of the photographs are hero 
 reduced by fire^ and the silver upon them is thu& 
 recovered. Large apartments are appropriated to the 
 baths in which the cartes de visite are immersed^ and 
 a feminine clatter of tongues directs us to the rooms 
 in which the portraits are gummed on cardboard and 
 packed up. Every portrait taken is pasted in a book^ 
 and numbered consecutively. This portrait index-book 
 
810 
 
 PHOTOGEAPHIC POETEAITUKE. 
 
 contains many thousands of cartes de visite, and a 
 reference to any one of them gives the clue to the 
 whereabouts of the negative. 
 
 In comparing the Parisian and London cartes de 
 visite, it is important to observe the wide difference 
 which exists between the class of portraits that sell. 
 In Paris^ actors and singers and dancers are in 
 demand^ to the exclusion of all other kinds of por- 
 traits. A majority of these portraits^ indeed^ are 
 aimed at sensual appetites. Statesmen^ members of 
 the Legislature^ and scientific men, do not sell at all. 
 In England^ we know how different it is : we want to 
 know our public men^ our great lawyers^ painters^ 
 literary men^ travellers^ and priests ; in Prance^ there 
 seems to be no respect or reverence for such people — 
 at leasL people do not care to invest a couple of francs 
 on their cartes de visite, and consequently they are 
 not produced. 
 
 The universality of the carte-de-visite portrait has 
 had the effect of making the public thoroughly 
 acquainted with all its remarkable men. We know 
 their personality long'before we see them. Even the 
 cartes de visite of comparatively unknown persons so 
 completely picture their appearance^ that when we 
 meet the originals we seem to have some acquaintance 
 with them. ^^I know that face,, somehow/'’ is the 
 instinctive cogitation^ and then we recall the portrait 
 we have a day or two past seen in the windows. As 
 we all know^ the value of the photographic portrait 
 has long been understood by the police^ and knoAvn 
 thieves have the honour of a picture-gallery of their 
 
PHOTOGRAPHIC PORTRAITURE. 
 
 811 
 
 own in Scotland Yard, to wliich. we shall refer in some 
 future paper ^ but the photograph is also useful for 
 rogues as yet uncaptured and uncondeinned. Thus, 
 when Redpath absconded, it was immediately sus- 
 pected that a negative of him must be lodged at some 
 of our photographers. The inquiry was made, and 
 one of them was found in Mr. Mayalhs possession. 
 An order was given for a supply to the detective force, 
 and through its instrumentality the delinquent, though 
 much disguised, was arrested on board a steamer 
 sailing from some port in the North of Europe. 
 
 As regards the merits of Photography itself versus 
 the Pencil, it cannot be gainsaid that, although the 
 sun is a better draughtsman than any human hand, 
 yet there are certain drawbacks connected with it 
 which are of moment. And, &st of all, it rarely 
 reproduces the best expression of the highest kind 
 of beauty : in this respect it is certainly inferior to 
 the old miniature. The reason is this. The highest 
 kind of beauty consists in expression — it is the play 
 of features which charms, not the mere beauty of the 
 human mask, unimpassioned by the soul beneath. 
 And this expression is just the thing that photo- 
 graphy misses. When a man or woman, and 
 especially when a woman sits to the sun for her 
 portrait, the first thing she does is to make up a 
 face — she canT help it, my good reader: let the 
 muscles of your mouth play naturally, whilst your 
 friend is daring you to do so, if you can. The 
 consequence is, that the likeness taken of you has 
 either an affected simper, as unlike a natural smile 
 
312 
 
 PHOTOGRAPHIC PORTRAITURE. 
 
 as German silver is like the real argent^ or it is 
 a set and rigid effigy cast in iron. 
 
 The old portrait-painter proceeded about his 
 business leisurely — no pistolgrams for him. If the 
 sitter should have happened to have made up a face^ 
 it relaxed before the artistes colours were mixed; 
 but the grim camera staring you in the face^ and the 
 operator demanding that yon stop as yon are/^ to 
 say nothing of having your head placed in a vice^ put 
 to flight the rippling lines about the mouthy and set 
 the eyes in a stony stare. By making a great many 
 photographs of the same person^, the unnatural rigidity 
 of the features^ it is trne^ relaxes ; but we fear that 
 the plain photograph never will reproduce a charming 
 face^ in which the chief beauty lies in expression. 
 When the beauty_, however^ depends upon form 
 merely^ the photograph is perfect ; hence classical 
 faces should seek the sun as the most effective artist. 
 
 But art is capable of correcting^ to a very large 
 degree^ the photographic shortcomings we have spoken 
 of. We have seen many coloured photographs which^ 
 taken as a whole^ neither Thorburn^ Ross^ nor Wells 
 could have equalled. The mass of coloured photo- 
 graphs we see about are^ we confess^ beneath con- 
 tempt ; but the manner in which the artists have 
 worked is alone accountable for their failure. The 
 real excellence of a coloured photograph results from 
 the artist following only the outlines which photo- 
 graphy has given him on the paper ; but the bungling 
 dauber proceeds to destroy this beautiful drawing 
 by painting with solid colour^, which effectually 
 
PHOTOGEAPHIC POETRAITURE. 
 
 313 
 
 hides all the wonderful delicacy of the sun^s pencils 
 touch beneath. 
 
 We were charmed with nothing at the International 
 Exhibition more than with the coloured photographs 
 of Messrs. Lock & Whitfield^ of Regent Street. The 
 transparency and delicacy of touch left nothing to be 
 desired. It is obvious that the artist has obtained 
 his admirable results by the use of the most trans- 
 parent water-colours alone; hence all the wonderful 
 drawing remains intact^ and gives the perfect likeness^ 
 which even the most consummate artist of old was 
 apt to miss. From these portraits it is evident that 
 the most pearly greys and the most transparent 
 shadows can be rendered on photographic drawing 
 with perfect truth; and the beauty^ too^ is there. 
 Mr. Lock evidently can catch the fleeting expression^ 
 and flx it for ever with his brush — at least all the hard- 
 ness so usual in the plain photograph vanishes under his 
 hand ; and if a foreigner would like to see what the 
 better class of young Englishwomen are like^ we 
 should recommend him to look at the glorious faces 
 which he may see in the studio of this Arm. 
 
 But will these coloured photographs last ? asks the 
 reader. Time^ we reply^ is the only test. We have 
 seen photographs ten years old^ and these are as good 
 as the first day they were taken. We see no reason 
 that the chemicals should change to a greater degree 
 than the ivory on which miniature-painters were wont 
 to work_, and the colours are of course identical in 
 both cases. 
 
 A new art has arisen^ however^ in connection with 
 
314 
 
 PHOTOGEAPHIC POETEAITUEE. 
 
 photography^ which will possibly satisfy those who 
 are doubtful as to the permanency of photographs 
 produced in the ordinary way. Photographs are now 
 taken on porcelain^ plain or coloured^ with tints 
 prepared with a vitreous medium^ and then burnt in_, 
 like an ordinary enamel. These are of course in- 
 destructible^ as far as fading goes^ and they look 
 like the rarest works of Boucher ; but they are pro- 
 portionately expensive_, and we do not think they are 
 likely to supersede the method now employed. 
 
 We must not omit to mention a very charming 
 compromise between the water-colour art and pho- 
 tography which Messrs. Lock & Whitfield have 
 brought into fashion. In order to give the likeness 
 and correct drawings the face and bust and hands 
 of portraits are taken by the lens_, and then enlarged 
 to the size of an ordinary water-colour sketchy which 
 the artist colours and finishes off in the form of a 
 vignette portrait^ by a few free washes of the brush. 
 It is almost impossible to tell these exquisite works 
 of art from an ordinary water-colour^ but that the 
 drawing of the face and hands is beyond the human 
 draughtsman's power. 
 
 The value of the carte de visite as an advertising 
 medium is^ we perceive^ not overlooked^ especially by 
 the great sensation preachers. For instance, there is 
 Mr. Bellew, who appears to have exhausted every 
 posture, in order to obhge an approving public. We 
 remember his first likeness, in which he burst upon 
 the town as an ethereal young priest in full canonicals, 
 expressed in the most delicate fioatiug drapery — 
 
PHOTOGEAPHIC POETRAITUEE. 
 
 S15 
 
 evidently a copy from a drawing from some female 
 hand. His later hebdomadal portraits represent the 
 cnrled darling a little more substantially. Appa- 
 rently tired of giving the public a full view of his 
 sacerdotal legs^ a last effort has been concentrated 
 upon his vignetted head. And Mr. Spurgeon — why 
 should we be admitted into the bosom of his family so 
 familiarly? We have no doubt that the tenderest 
 relations exist between him and his spouse^ but what 
 necessity is there for exhibiting the pair^ in every 
 shop-window^ on a rustic seat in the midst of a wood ? 
 With respect to his many varied cartes de visits whilst 
 in the act of preachings we may perhaps be permitted 
 to remark that if we saw a little more of the wood^^^ 
 and a little less of hims it would be a great advantage^ 
 as an open rostrum does not set off his person well. 
 
 The clergy are a little too fond of seeing themselves 
 in the shop -windows. There is scarcely a pastor in 
 the metropolis whose carte de visits is not to be seen in 
 the booksellers^ windows. We can understand a flock 
 desiring a remembrance of their pastor^ and a private 
 circulation of such portraits may be excusable; but 
 the public can feel no particular interest in preachers 
 the world has never heard of. It may be a convenient 
 fiction to excuse the publication of mediocre charity 
 sermons^ on the plea that they were put in circulation 
 at the request of some friends/^ but vanity can 
 scarcely be excused so easily. On the other hand^ the 
 use of the carte de visits, in making us familiar with 
 the features of those who have made themselves 
 famous^ is indubitable. 
 
316 
 
 PHOTOGEAPHIC POETEAITURE. 
 
 It seems as if we could not realize the nature of a 
 man^s sayings or doings unless read by the light of 
 his countenance. When the mind is left to paint its 
 own picture,, how we idealize portraits ! We cannot 
 help it ; we must match the appearance of the indivi- 
 dual to the nature of his performances ; and how often 
 we find that our ideal and the reality are utterly 
 opposed to each other,, and what a confusion the 
 discovery makes in the mind ! But in these days the 
 photographer does not leave us time to draw our ideal. 
 If a general wins a battle on the other side of the 
 Atlantic^ a fortnight afterwards we find his portrait in 
 our windows almost as soon as the news arrives. If a 
 traveller discovers some unknown river or country^ 
 before the details of his journey are forwarded we are 
 taking stock of his face in Regent Street. It may 
 puzzle some people to know how the savages in the 
 desert,, which he is still traversing^ should know any- 
 thing of photography ; but the difficulty is explained 
 when we remember that there is always some one — 
 a sister or brother/^ or one dearer than all other 
 — who has cherished a miniature at home. By some 
 unaccountable means the fact is made known to a 
 pushing photographer,, and before a week is over,, the 
 secret portrait^ yet warm from some loving bosom^ 
 is scattered by photography broadcast over every 
 European capital. 
 
 But who shall estimate the value of the photo- 
 graphic art in a domestic and affectionate point of 
 view ? What rude means were only lately at our dis- 
 posal for estimating the development of our children ! 
 
PHOTOGRAPHIC PORTRAITURE. 
 
 317 
 
 The mark behind the door kept a register of children^s 
 altitude^ and there our power ended of putting on 
 record all the wonderfully delicate changes our little 
 ones underwent from childhood to manhood. Now 
 the light comes to our aid_, and_, month by month_, if 
 need be^ we can permanently put on record every 
 opening charm of youth. What a loveable thing it is to 
 run through the domestic carte de visite alburn^ and to 
 note how^ year by year^ the flaxen-curled darlings have 
 silently grown into the dear^ clumsy Newfoundlandish 
 hobbledehoys^ and how^ by degrees^ they have fined 
 down into the perfect beauty of thek premiere 
 jeunesse ! Who shall estimate the pleasure that 
 photography has conferred on mankind ? 
 
THE WOEKIM MEN’S FLOTO-SHOW. 
 
 A MOVEMENT is taking place in the parish of Bloomsbury 
 which would have cheered the spirit of Mark Tapley. 
 As far as we can see^ there is no possible credit in 
 growing grapes at the rate of a guinea a pounds and in 
 turning out fine plants where untold wealth is at com- 
 mand ; but it certainly is a test of care and ability to 
 make flowers grow in the back slums of Bloomsbury. 
 A few individuals a year or two since^ at the sugges- 
 tion of the clergy of St. George^s^ formed themselves 
 into a society for giving prizes to the working classes 
 for the best flowers grown in pots and windows. To 
 insure their being really tended by the proprietors,, 
 and not bought for the occasion^ a rule was instituted 
 that the plants should be entered at least six weeks 
 before the adjudication of the prizes^ between which 
 times they were visited and watched by the gentlemen 
 interested in the movement. By this means a genuine 
 exhibition was insured,, and the show took place in 
 July last,, in the garden of Bussell Square. The prizes 
 were for different classes of exhibitors — to wit,, first 
 for adult persons living in the Little Coram Street 
 district ; for persons living in the Mews ; for persons 
 
THE WOEKINa MEN^S ELOWEE-SHOW. 319 
 
 living elsewhere ; and for domestic servants. Secondly 
 for children in National^ Infant_, and Parochial Schools^ 
 and for children in Eagged Schools. The interior of 
 Eussell Square certainly never looked so gay as on 
 this occasion^ for all the inhabitants of the neighbour- 
 hood were present to watch the proceedings. The 
 plants were ranged in a gay tent^ and certainly did 
 credit to their growers. Decidedly the best show was 
 made by the persons living in the Little Coram Street 
 district. If the reader happens to know that dingy 
 neighbourhood^ he will be able to appreciate the merit 
 of rearing fine geraniums and fuchsias in its dark and 
 noisome courts. The flowers from the Mews were also 
 very good. There is a tendency to grow flowers in 
 Mews — the heart yearns to see some bright green 
 thing in those brick trenches^ for they are certainly no 
 better ; and it is curious to see what trouble grooms 
 will take to make mimic palings and five-barred 
 gates^ brightly painted^ to set off their little planta- 
 tions round their windows. But still more touching 
 was it to see attached to some well-grown plant such 
 
 a label as this : Grown in the workhouse by 
 
 We all know what consolation the little Picciola plant 
 was to the prisoner in the grim Austrian fortress ; and 
 doubtless the ^^balm geraniums/^ which flourished so 
 kindly in the workhouse^ gave new heart to some poor 
 inmate. But we look upon this Flower-Show Exhibi- 
 tion as a sanitary movement of no mean importance. 
 Where a geranium will not live and flourish^ we may 
 be sure the far more tender human plant will not 
 exist. We trust the tlealth Officer of the parish will 
 
320 THE WORKING MEN^S FLOWER-SHOW. 
 
 take cognizance of these plants^ and will consider 
 them as a test of the condition of the atmosphere of 
 the courts under his supervision. 
 
 The plants exhibited by the children of the different 
 schools were generally gTown from seeds. The stone 
 of a cherry^ or the pip of a lemon^ or an orange 
 dropped into the flower-pot^ has engaged the anxious 
 care of little urchins for months^ and the result is a 
 series of little seedling-trees. This may be a small 
 matter horticulturally^ but morally it is a large one. 
 With the dropping of this little vegetable-seed in the 
 earth there is also a dropping of good seed into the 
 heart^, which one day will bear good fruit. Side by 
 side with the Flower-Show movement for the working- 
 classes is another^, called The Clean and Tidy Eoom 
 Movement/^ and it will not surprise the reader to 
 hear that many of those who carried oft’ the prize for 
 the best plant also gained the prize for the clean room. 
 A great many prizes were distributed by Lord Shaftes- 
 bury^ under a wide-spreading tree_, in quite a patri- 
 archal fashion^ and possibly a ten-shilling prize for a 
 well-grown plant may be the means of weaning many 
 men from the habit of drinking and from the low 
 tastes in which some of them indulge. We hear that 
 similar working meiFs flower-shows are to be held this 
 year in different parishes in London. We most 
 heartily trust they will succeed. We hail them as a 
 means of bringing together the difterent classes of 
 society^ and also as a means of promoting a taste for 
 pure and simple pleasures suited to the hearths and 
 homes of working men. 
 
DOCTOES’ STUFF. 
 
 ScAECELY a more curious chapter in the history of 
 events could be written than one which would trace 
 the beliefs and fashions which have obtained among 
 the community with respect to the use of medicines,. 
 Taking up an old book the other day in a medical library^ 
 entitled The Ladies^ Dispensatory/^ we caught a 
 glimpse of the ideas of our ancestors on this subject^, 
 which may compare — not much to our own advantage^ 
 we fear — with the practice of the big-medicine men of 
 some remote African tribe. If our reader happen to 
 have lived in the good old time — the Arcadian period 
 of Merrie England/^ when^ according to romantic 
 writers^ a few herbs and simples sufficed to medicine 
 the ills which flesh was heir to in those robust days — 
 a falling sickness/^ we find_, would have been treated, 
 with any of the following recipes^ or perhaps with a 
 succession of them. The blood of a weesil^ to be 
 drunk ; the liver of an asse roasted^ eaten fasting ; 
 an assess hoof burned^ to be drunk ; the brine excres- 
 cence growing on the coronet of a horse^s hoofe^ bruised 
 and drunk in vinegar ; stones found in the belly of the 
 swallows^ first brood tied in a piece of buckskin and 
 
 y 
 
322 
 
 DOCTOES^ STUFF. 
 
 worn about the neck ; cud of a sea-calf^ to be drunk ; 
 gall of a beare ; gall of a tortoise^ put in the nose ; 
 storks^ dung^ drunk in water.^^ These are recipes 
 taken exactly as they come from the book of domestic 
 medicine of the days of Cromwell. If we consult the 
 prescriptions of the regular physicians of that day^ we 
 find the same spirit running through the loathsome 
 messes they gave to their patients. The dung of all 
 kinds of animals was a favourite piece de resistance 
 with them^ and next to that their blood formed the 
 staple of their nostrums. 
 
 There was a higher class of prescription^ however^ 
 then in use^ which was evidently aimed at the super- 
 stitious feelings of the poor people drugged. The 
 moss from a dead man^s skull is recommended for a 
 patient by Sir Kenelm Digby j scrapings from human 
 bones^ poundings of a wolPs teeth^ and even the hemp 
 of a rope with which a man had hung himself, are to 
 be found among the remedies prescribed less than 
 two hundred years ago by learned Doctors of the 
 College of Physicians. Our surgery was quite as bad. 
 If a wound inflamed^ a plaster of new dung of oxen 
 at grasse would have been applied^ fresh and fresh^ 
 from day to day. We find even verdigrease/^ a 
 most virulent poison^ recommended in a like case. 
 God must have been very merciful to the afflicted in 
 those days^ for man^ in his crass ignorance^ was 
 certainly very cruel. Errors of this kind are trace- 
 able in the use of remedies down to the middle of the 
 eighteenth century. 
 
 After this time a marked amendment appeared in 
 
DOCTORS^ STUFF. 
 
 323 
 
 the British pharmacopoeia. Drugs proper took the 
 place of the disgusting refuse of animals^ and the herbs 
 of the garden gave place to medicines of a more potent 
 nature. Prescriptions became less offensive^ but we 
 much question if they were quite as harmless as here- 
 tofore. The physician^ as if to make up for the disuse 
 of articles in his prescriptions calculated to strike 
 terror into his patienPs mind^ loaded his recipes with 
 every drug that he could well remember. Some of 
 these prescriptions might almost be measured by the 
 foot-rule_, and often the ingredients were of so diverse 
 a character that the object of the prescriber appears to 
 have been to have aimed the remedy at his patienPs 
 complaint^ as a timid householder would a blunder- 
 buss at a robber^ in the hope that some of the 
 projectiles at least would hit. 
 
 We have got rid of these long prescriptions^ it is 
 true ; but even at the present day the middle classes 
 are bedrugged in a manner it is fearful to contem- 
 plate. The medical service of the country is mainly 
 supplied by what is termed the general practitioner^ 
 — a gentleman who possesses the double licence of the 
 College of Surgeons and the Apothecaries^ Company. 
 The latter Society is nothing more than a company 
 trading in drugs^ and of course it is their interest to 
 increase the consumption of their staples as largely 
 as possible. The general practitioner is entitled by 
 the Apothecaries^ Act to make certain charges for 
 drugs sent to his patients^ and this practice has now 
 become general throughout the country. 
 
 The public are^ we fear^ wholly to blame for this 
 Y 2 
 
324 
 
 DOCTOES^ STUFF. 
 
 very objectionable practice. An attempt lias been 
 made by tlie medical profession to break throngii it 
 by charging for time instead of physic — a much more 
 sensible method of payment^ and one calculated to 
 save the patient from the infliction of unnecessary 
 drugs ; but this plan as yet has failed altogether^ in 
 the provinces at least. People^ as a rule_, like to be 
 drugged ; they prefer the practitioner who takes 
 active measures ; they like something, they say, for 
 their money, and they unfortunately prefer to pay for 
 the coloured bottles of stuff that come into the sick- 
 chamber with such alarming rapidity, to paying the 
 medical man for his time and skill. In the larger 
 towns the patients are more reasonable, and see 
 through the absurdity of putting the medical man 
 under the necessity of supplying drugs that are often 
 hurtful to them. 
 
 As a general rule, however, the people like strong 
 medicines, and will have them ; hence the doctor, if 
 he will live, must bow to the popular decision. The 
 lower we go in the social scale, the stronger is its 
 tendency to rely upon strong drugs to cure disease. 
 We have only to glance .over the pages of newspapers, 
 to see the swarms of patent medicines which address 
 themselves to the eye of the public. Every druggist 
 thinks he is entitled to find out some specific for all 
 the ills that flesh is heir to ; and some gigantic profes- 
 sors in this art astound us by the magnitude of their 
 operations. Mr. Holloway, to wit, sends out his pills 
 by the ton weight ; and Mr. Morison, with his gam- 
 boge boluses, is equal to a persistent diarrhoea 
 
DOCTORS^ STUFF. 
 
 325 
 
 throngliout the country. There is a tendency^ how- 
 ever^ in medicine to rush to extremes^ and the abuse 
 of the drugging system has led to the adoption of a 
 doctrine which is tantamount to a practical denial of 
 the value of medicine altogether. It cannot be gain- 
 said that the upper classes of this country are deeply 
 bitten with the doctrine of Homoeopathy. Disap- 
 pointed with the present routine system of medicine_, 
 they fly to one which appeals to their imagination. 
 There is something truly wonderful in the power of 
 remedies which they believe to act in billionth doses^ 
 and forthwith they give themselves up to the simple 
 treatment of Nature; for to say that homoeopathic 
 doses can have any eflect upon the human body is a 
 simple absurdity. 
 
 The pleasure of doctoring one^s-self — no slight 
 pleasure^ as the practice of mankind shows — can be 
 indulged in by its believers to their hearths content. 
 The little cabinets of bottles and the handbooks of 
 symptoms are at hand to minister to the belief that 
 every man can be his own doctor. We have no 
 doubt^ that after the use of these pretty little trifles 
 people get well^ for it is the tendency of the minor 
 disturbances of health to right themselves. We may 
 concede, perhaps, that the very belief in infinitesimal 
 doses may have some effect towards a cure, for we 
 know how great is the effect of the mind over the 
 body; but this we know also, that where indisposition 
 grows into downright illness of a serious character, 
 either of two things happens. The homoeopathist 
 varies his doses to allopathic proportions, or the 
 
326 
 
 DOCTORS^ STUFF. 
 
 patient has recourse to the legitimate practitioner. 
 Nevertheless^ we cannot help admitting that the very 
 fact of the existence of homoeopathy is a proof that 
 there is something wrong or deficient in our present 
 state of knowledge as to the action of drugs. 
 
 Wliilst in every other department of medicine 
 our advance has been great^ whilst our knowledge 
 of the minute structure of the body has been 
 thoroughly elucidated by the use of the microscope, 
 whilst the science of physiology has taught us the 
 method of action of healthy structure, whilst patho- 
 logy has gone far to teach us how disease alters these 
 different structures and interferes with their functions, 
 there is one department of medicine the advance of 
 which has been entirely of a negative kind. Thera- 
 peutics, or the art which treats of the action of 
 remedies, is very little advanced from what it was in 
 the time of Galen. We cure ague with quinine, and 
 give colour to the cheek by the aid of iron ; we subdue 
 delirium tremens with opium, and so forth, but the 
 modus operandi of the action of these drugs upon the 
 various organs they effect, we know no more really 
 about than the big-medicine man of the North 
 American Indian. 
 
 It may be a melancholy fact to confess, but we 
 know well the best-informed medical men will agree 
 with us that our knowledge of the action of remedies 
 upon the human body is at present entirely empirical. 
 We do not by any means say that an able empiricism 
 in such matters is not a very good thing, and that 
 practically it is of little importance to the patient that 
 
DOCTORS^ STUFF. 
 
 327 
 
 liis doctor should know the how_, as long as he gets 
 cured ; but it must be confessed that it is some reproach 
 to Medicine that there should be such profound 
 darkness as regards the true theory of action of 
 medical remedies^ and it is not a little remarkable 
 that it has neither been the fashion of the profession 
 to make deep inquuy into this subject^ nor has the 
 bent of any distinguished individual led him into this 
 httle-beaten track. 
 
 Our experience^ day by day^ is^ however^ con- 
 tracting the number of drugs that we know to be 
 efficacious empirically. Out of the thousands of drugs 
 that load our chemists^ shops^ and among the num- 
 berless preparations authorized to be used by the 
 Pharmacopoeia/^ we may safely say that we may count 
 on our ten fingers the number of drugs that are really 
 valuable ; and whilst the tendency of modern medicine 
 is to simplify the manner of prescribing^ the skill of 
 our pharmaceutical chemists is to reduce the bulk of 
 our medicines. Instead of the decoctions^, and infu- 
 sions^ and huge boluses with which the sick man was 
 nauseated of old^ it is the growing practice to pre- 
 scribe the active principles alone of medicines^, and 
 thus all the woody particles and the thousand and one 
 adulterations occurring in the raw drug, which only 
 passed through the patient to the injury of his stomach, 
 are now being eliminated. Thus far, doctors^ stuff is 
 reforming itself in the right direction, and we trust 
 that the thoughtful minds of the profession will turn 
 their attention towards building up what may with 
 truth be called a rational system of therapeutics. 
 
MESSAGES UNDEE THE SEA. 
 
 It required many years to bring our system of Land 
 Telegraphs to its present state of perfection. For a 
 long time it was found impossible to send a message 
 a further distance than twenty miles. This feat could 
 be performed only in fine weather; when a storm 
 came on^ or a fall of snow covered the poles and wires-, 
 it was found impracticable to sustain the insulation 
 of the conducting- wire, and consequently the electricity 
 escaped by way of the suspending poles to the earth. 
 Is it wonderful, then, that our early efforts in Sub- 
 luarine Telegraphy have been marked by so many 
 failures ? Instead of passing the wire through the 
 air, which in its dry condition is a good non- 
 conductor, we boldly pass it under the ocean, where 
 it is surrounded by a medium whence its electric spark 
 is eager to escape. We condemn the subtle flame 
 to traverse thousands of miles of wire under the 
 sea, and yet are surprised that in the long jom-ney 
 it finds a minute pinhole by which to escape. 
 
 If we could catch a glimpse of the physical 
 formation of the ocean depths, we should, without 
 jdoubt, find that it possesses precipices as abrupt as 
 
MESSAGES UNDEE THE SEA. 
 
 329 
 
 those to be found on dry land^ mountains as higii^ 
 and volcanic formations as rugged as those still 
 pouring forth their lava : yet upon this irregular and 
 unknown surface we cast forth a slender line thousands 
 of miles long^ but not more than an inch and five- 
 eighths in diameter (as in the case of the Atlantic 
 cable) ^ allow it to sink for miles through rapid 
 and sometimes diverse currents_, and trust that it 
 will remain perfect not only in its conducting-vfire 
 but in the delicate gutta-percha sheath which 
 insulates it. 
 
 Is it wonderful^ we ask^ that in too many cases 
 cables thus cast forth to seek an unknown bottom_, 
 surrounded on every side by an element working 
 against the efforts of man^ are cast forth but to 
 destruction ? That this is unfortunately the case is 
 but too evident. Out of^ say^ 12^500 miles of cable 
 so laid^ at the present moment not more than 7^000 
 miles are working. As might have been suspected^ 
 the failure has been almost entirely in the deep-sea 
 cables. We lay our shallow or channel cables with 
 almost as much certainty as we erect land telegraphs ; 
 and if the community were to find itself one morning 
 cut off from telegraphic communication with the 
 Continent_, it would feel as surprised and indignant 
 as it would at being cut off from its usual supplies 
 of gas or water. With the deep-sea cables, however, 
 it is the exception rather than the rule to lay them 
 successfully. Out of the thousands of miles which 
 are now the exclusive possession of coral insects, 
 zoophytes, and other sea creatures, no less than 6,949 
 
330 
 
 MESSAGES UNDEE THE SEA. 
 
 miles belong to four undertakings — ^viz.^ the Atlantic^ 
 2^200 miles ; the Red Sea and Indian^ 3^499 miles ; 
 the Sardinia^ Malta_, and Corfu, 700 miles; and the 
 Singapore and Batavia, 550 miles. 
 
 The ordinary obstacles to the laying of a cable in 
 a deep ocean are without doubt very great. In the 
 first place, the paying-out process, as at present 
 conducted, is barbarous in the extreme. In but 
 too many cases steam-vessels have to be employed, 
 which are utterly unfitted for stowing away the cable. 
 When great lengths have to be laid, the coils are of 
 such magnitude that they cannot be stowed away in one 
 j)art of a ship^s hold, and consequently in the midst of 
 
 pajdng out,^^ the manipulators have to shift from one 
 part of the ship to another. Then, again, a storm 
 suddenly arises, and the cable hanging over the stern 
 is liable to constant and severe jerks and strains, as 
 the ship pitches in a broken sea. Whilst paying out 
 a cable a vessel must steam right ahead, and has no 
 power to accommodate herself by meeting a sea. Hence 
 she is subjected to greater motion than an ordinary 
 vessel. Again, the difficulty of taking soundings at 
 a depth of two or three miles is so great that it is not 
 to be wondered at that cables are now and then laid 
 on ocean beds which are sure to destroy them almost 
 as soon as deposited. 
 
 When to these natural impediments to success we 
 add those created by carelessness, or worse ; when we 
 find that, in the language of telegraphy, cables are 
 
 starved,^^ or made so slight, in order to save 
 expense, and that they are known to be failures 
 
MESSAGES UNDEE THE SEA. 
 
 331 
 
 before tbey have ever seen salt-water^ we cease to 
 wonder that innocent shareholders within these last 
 ten years have cast upwards of two millions of money 
 hopelessly into the sea. 
 
 The two great failures which have occurred 
 destroyed for a time public faith in Ocean Tele- 
 graphs. Our deep-sea cables were known from the 
 first to have been far too slim and weak to sustain 
 the spark intact during the long journey it had to 
 make. It was jestingly said that putting down an 
 inch and five-eighths cable to cross the Atlantic was 
 like entering a pony for the Derby^ and that the Eed 
 Sea line (less than an inch in diameter) was as in- 
 adequate for its work as a donkey would be to run 
 for the St. Leger. 
 
 The history of the Atlantic Cable is caution/'^ 
 to use an American phrase^, to the speculating public. 
 Considering that it was the longest cable that possibly 
 we shall ever see in one length (2_,500 miles) and 
 destined to traverse an ocean whose sounding is 
 measured by miles_, the reckless manner in which 
 every step of its progress was conducted is some- 
 thing marvellous. The very seeds of its destruction 
 appeared at its birth. The Company having undertaken 
 that it should be laid in 1857^ on pain of losing their 
 concession, and having but little time to carry out their 
 engagement, it was determined that the construction 
 of the cable should be divided between the two great 
 manufacturers — one half being given to Messrs. Glass, 
 Elliot, & Co., and the other to Messrs. Newall. No 
 standard for the conductivity of the copper wire was 
 
332 
 
 MESSAGES UNDEE THE SEA. 
 
 laid down^ and nearly tlie whole of the cable was 
 furnished before this very necessary preliminary was 
 settled : the consequence was^ that different parts of 
 the cable tested very differently. 
 
 A more ‘ fundamental erroi% however^ arose in the 
 course of the construction of the portion manufactured 
 by Messrs. Glass & Elliot. It will be remembered that 
 the month of June^ 1857_, was almost tropical in heat^ 
 and unfortunately the cable^ when manufactured^ was 
 coiled in a tank open to the sun; the consequence 
 was^ that the gutta-percha covering^, which formed the 
 water-tight envelope to the wire^ became so soft that 
 it allowed the conductor to get out of the centre ; in 
 some cases it actually sunk through the gutta-percha_, 
 and was visible at the under side. Wherever this was 
 the case^ the piece was cut out ; but it was not con- 
 tended^ even by the manufacturers^ that all defects 
 were removed by this botching. The invaluable pro- 
 cess of testing the cable imder hydraulic pressure^ as it 
 was manufactured^ was not adopted^ and consequently 
 the exact value of its conducting power was not ascer- 
 tained ; indeed^ throughout the whole transaction there 
 was an evident disinclination to allow science to prepare 
 the Avay carefully for a permanent success; and the 
 Directors seemed to have looked upon the undertaking 
 as highly speculative, and to have cared more for 
 the shares showing well for a few days, than for its 
 stability. 
 
 The cable, in this lame condition, in one of its halves 
 at least, was completed in July, and in August was 
 shipped in equal moities in the United States^ frigate 
 
MESSAGES UNDER THE SEA. 
 
 333 
 
 Niagara, and her Majesty^s ship Agamemnon, The 
 first attempt to lay it was unsuccessful : a neglect to 
 ease the cable as the stern of the vessel lifted with the 
 rollino* sea, broke it at a distance of 335 miles from 
 Valentia. The ships now returned to Plymouth^ and 
 the cable was coiled into tanks at Keyham^ where it 
 underwent more surgical operations ; indeed^ if there 
 was any real and lasting vitality in it before^ here it 
 was extinguished. If a test was wanted^ the first 
 thing done was to cut the cable^ and then cobble 
 it up again. Those who had charge of it state that 
 from first to last it was cut into at least a hundred 
 pieces ! Of course the result was that it was cut up 
 into a hundred clumsy joints^ many of which were 
 made in the course of paying out the cable at sea^ and 
 any one of which endangered the life of the wire. The 
 leakage,, or the escape of the current through these 
 fractures^ v^as declared to be ^Wery high/^ even at 
 Keyham ; but the poor cable had yet much more to 
 endure ere it found its resting-place at the bottom 
 of the Atlantic. 
 
 In the spring of 1858^ the cable was again stowed 
 on board the two ships^ and after two unsuccessful 
 attempts they proceeded to mid-ocean,, and there 
 joining hands^ or^ in other words, the two ends of the 
 electric cable, they steamed away for either shore. 
 During the paying out, a regular communication was 
 kept up between the two ships ; these, however, Avere 
 so feeble, that some serious damage was made evident. 
 On one occasion the current ceased to flow, and it was 
 anticipated that a fatal fracture had taken place ; but 
 
334 
 
 MESSAGES UNDEE THE SEA. 
 
 the current^ after a short time^ came as well as before,, 
 and it became evident that the internal copper wire 
 must have snapped from the strain whilst the cable 
 was paying out^ the two ends^ however^ being brought 
 together again when at the bottom of the sea by the 
 elasticity of its sheath. 
 
 From the 5th of August to the 1st of September 
 England and America were on speaking terms with 
 each other. Eegular messages were not^ however^ 
 attempted until the 18th of the former month,, and 
 at first the utterances of the cable were very feeble. 
 The manipulators principally confined themselves to 
 sending' single letters of the alphabet and single 
 words,, Newfoundland continually informing Valentia 
 that she could not understand^ and urging her to 
 ^^send slower/^ and to ^^send something please 
 send something.-^^ Newfoundland appeared to be able 
 to converse much more fluently than her Irish sister. 
 Among the more curious messages sent was one from 
 Valentia. It appears that the keys of a cupboard in 
 which some of the electrical apparatus was stowed 
 were missings and the question of where they were 
 placed was asked and answered in a few minutes 
 across the breadth of the Atlantic. The only prac- 
 tical use to which the wire was ever put was the 
 transmission of a message from the Horse Guards^ 
 countermanding the embarkation of some troops. 
 The conversation went on in a hesitating^ half-unin- 
 telligible way^ until the 13th^ when a communication of 
 some length was received, and on the 16th the Queen^s 
 memorable message of greeting to the President was 
 
MESSAGES UNDER THE SEA. 
 
 335 
 
 carried across. All New York of course went wild^ 
 and a furor was excited throughout the States hj the 
 Directors^ which England viewed with wonder^ but 
 which those in the secret perfectly understood. Then 
 came the President's reply^ and the currents were 
 reported to come much stronger. It must be remem- 
 bered, however, that increased battery power was 
 continually being applied, and there can be little 
 doubt that the forcing of the messages through the 
 disabled wire materially aided in its final destruction. 
 
 The conversation was carried on between the two 
 countries, with many interruptions, until the 1st of 
 September, when the following broken message was 
 received at Newfoundland : — C, W, Field, Neio Yorl:. 
 Please inform American Government we are noiv in a 
 position to do best to forward — Here, unfortunately, 
 the cable became dumb for ever, and refused to finish 
 the end of the sentence — Government messages to 
 FnglandP 
 
 As we have said before, the current appeared to 
 flow much more freely from America to Ireland than 
 vice versa ; for, on comparing the number of messages 
 which passed between the two countries, we find that 
 whilst America sent us, in the twenty-three days, two 
 hundred and seventy-one messages, containing 13,968 
 letters, Ireland could only forward in twenty days one 
 hundred and twenty-nine messages, containing 7,253 
 words. Thus Newfoundland was nearly twice as 
 voluble as Valentia. 
 
 Many attempts have been made to raise and repair 
 the cable ; but, owing to its very light construction. 
 
336 
 
 MESSAGES UNDER THE SEA. 
 
 the oxidation of the very fine wire in which it is 
 enveloped^ and the great depth from which it has 
 to be lifted^ it has invariably broken. Pieces will 
 perhaps be recovered from time to time ; but the 
 only use of all that remains from the splendid fortune 
 thus wilfully cast into the sea^ in spite of all the 
 warnings of competent electricians^ will be to make 
 gutta-percha dolls — the destination of the cores of all 
 worn-out cables. 
 
 It is not^ however^ a matter of entne regret that 
 this cable failed^ inasmuch as from its method of con- 
 struction^ so far as the conducting- wire was concerned^ 
 it is very doubtful whether it would have been such 
 a success as to have satisfied the shareholders. The 
 Atlantic Telegraph_, to pay^ must be able to send a 
 certain number of words per minute ; otherwise the cost 
 of transmission would be so enormous as to prevent its 
 being generally used. Now_, it is very questionable 
 indeed if the old cable (even supposing its insulation 
 to have been perfect) could have worked this paying 
 number. Some of our most eminent electricians said^ 
 No. And for this feebleness of conduction there were 
 two causes. In the first place^ the wire^ or wires^ 
 were very fine ; and as it is a rule in conducting- 
 bodies that their swiftness of conductibility depends 
 upon their diameters^ or bulk^ it must be evident that 
 these small wires were a great mistake^, inasmuch as 
 they retarded the current. Another advantage of a 
 large conductor is^ that it is not much affected by 
 
 leakages that would paralyze a small one. The 
 experience gained in laying cables since the failure of 
 
MESSAGES UNDER THE SEA. 
 
 337 
 
 tlie Atlantic Cable has been very great. Trne^ we da 
 not find such vast stretches of ocean as the Atlantia 
 to span every day^ but cables have been laid in more 
 difficult water and on a less advantageous ocean-bed. 
 with success. We have read dreadful descrip tions^, it 
 is true^ of a precipice in the bed of the sea off the 
 west coast of Ireland ; but the survey of the ground 
 lately made by Captain Hoskin in Her Majesty^S' 
 ship PorciipinG has dispelled this dismal statement. 
 According to his careful soundings^ the descent from 
 the Irish bank to the bed of the ocean presents^ at its 
 steepest part^ a dip of only 19 in 100 — an incline’ 
 vfhich is represented in the following diagram : — 
 
 Dip of 19 in 100. 
 
 Up such an ascent a locomotive may run with ease^ 
 The bottom is composed of a soft ooze^ formed by the 
 debris of the millions of organic beings which act as 
 scavengers of the ocean^ and then^ their work being 
 done^ descend like fine dust to the bottom^ sealing up^^ 
 beyond power of being disturbed_, any cable that may 
 be deposited there. 
 
 It must be remembered that the average depth of 
 the water covering the level terrace which runs 
 between Valentia and the coast of Newfoundland is 
 not more than two miles^ a depth which is crossed by 
 the cable from Toulon to Algiers^ laid by Messrs. 
 Glass & Elliot three years since^ and now in perfect 
 
 z 
 
338 
 
 MESSAGES UNDER THE SEA. 
 
 working order. Neither is there wanting experience 
 in cables of great length. Let us instance that 
 between Malta and Alexandria^ which was laid by the 
 same firm^ and is about 500 miles shorter than the 
 Atlantic Cable^, the difficulties of laying which have 
 been so exaggerated. It must be remembered that 
 Submarine Telegraphy has arrived at a perfection 
 which is almost marvellous_, considering the little time 
 that has elapsed since the first cable was laid — not 
 more than twelve years since. From that period to 
 the present time fifty-one lines of electric cables have 
 been submerged^, forty-four of which are at present 
 in working order^ and out of these Messrs. Glass & 
 Elliot have laid no less than thirty. Indeed^ so cer- 
 tain seems^ to this eminent house^ the success of a 
 second attempt at depositing a working cable^ that 
 they have agreed to undertake the contract on the 
 conditions of receiving their actual disbursements for 
 labour and material_, and a further profit of twenty 
 per cent, on the actual cost of the line in the shares of 
 the Company^ whilst they will make a cash subscrip- 
 tion of £25^000 to its ordinary capital. This certainly 
 looks like business^ and we hope the offer will be 
 accepted. We understand tJiaL towards the new 
 capital of £600^000^ upwards of two-thirds has already 
 been subscribed ; and^ as the faith of the public in the 
 prospects of success in the undertaking is slowly but 
 surely increasing^ we may safely anticipate that^ ere 
 long^ the whole sum will be made up. 
 
 It is not our province to enter into details of the 
 monetary part of the scheme^ but we cannot help 
 
MESSAGES UNDEE THE SEA. 
 
 339 
 
 stating tliat^ if all the promises of returns held out 
 should be fulfilled^ there is yet to be reaped a splendid 
 harvest from this field of enterprise. Thus ten words 
 per minute — an estimate below that given by electri- 
 cians — with the proposed heavy conducting- wire^ for 
 sixteen hours a day^ at a tariff of 2s. 6d. per word^ 
 would yield a revenue of £1^200 per day^ or of 
 £360^000 a year of 300 working days. This sum^ 
 together with Government subsidies and other sources 
 of income^ will yields we are told^ a gross income of 
 £438^000 : a sum which it is estimated will not only 
 pay working expenses and a handsome dividend to 
 both old and new shareholders^ but will yield a 
 balance for a reserve fund more than sufficient to lay 
 a second cable in every two-and-a-half years. Be this 
 as it may^ the advantages of connecting the New with 
 the Old World by such a line of communication are 
 boundless^ to this country especially^ whose posses- 
 sions northward and southward of the United States^ 
 so constantly threatened^ it would knit together and 
 place within instant call of the mother-country. At a 
 moment when the value of our distant colonies is 
 being questioned by grave professors at our seats of 
 learnings this new instrument of civilization appears 
 upon the scene^ destined^ in all probability, to solve 
 many of the difficulties in the path of government 
 which of old the sundering ocean placed in our way. 
 It is proposed to employ the Great Eastern to lay the 
 new cable, and by this means to get rid of the dangers 
 of laying it incident upon the pitching of a smaller 
 vessel in bad weather. The Great Eastern, it is true, 
 
 z 2 
 
340 
 
 MESSAGES UNDER THE SEA. 
 
 knows how to roll ; but this motion is of little conse-^ 
 quence compared with the fatal strain put upon a cable 
 by the sudden lifting of the stern whilst great lengths of 
 rope are being payed out in deep water. We see by the 
 last Message of the President that he proposes to lend 
 his countenance to the new scheme : we don^t know 
 if this includes the loan of hard dollars or not^ but we 
 cannot conceive a scheme which may more legiti- 
 mately appeal to Government aid in the two coun- 
 tries than the Atlantic Telegraph Cable. Our own 
 Government have already taken under their wing 
 the cable now constructing, to place our Eastern 
 empire in communication with home ; but surely the 
 East is not more important than the West, and we 
 should sail along the stream of events like a bird with 
 but one wing, if we neglect to bridge the Atlantic 
 Ocean. It would be a disgrace to us, who were the 
 first to traverse the deep sea with the blue electric 
 spark, big with the fate of nations, if we allowed news 
 from the New World to come to us across the deserts 
 of North America and Siberia and Eussia, as it 
 speedily will do, while we are hesitating about a paltry 
 2,000 miles of ocean, where the cable once laid will 
 never be disturbed. The pathway to the Yankees 
 should not be allowed to pass the Czar^s doorway, or 
 possibly he may refuse us a key at a moment when 
 these loving friends may fraternize as they have done 
 before in the hour of England's difficulty. 
 
 One would think that 2,500 miles of ocean would 
 prove an obstacle to personal altercations, but this 
 appears not to be the case. Telegraphic clerks, we 
 
MESSAGES UNDER THE SEA. 
 
 341 
 
 are told^ are very apt to quarrel witli each other if 
 messages are not sent correctly. Mr. Varley^ the 
 Electrician of the Telegraph Company^ says that tele- 
 graph work causes great nervous irritation. If/^ 
 says he_, a clerk be thoughtless and do not key 
 very accurately^ and so cause one or two words in a 
 message to come indistinctly^ the clerk at the distant 
 end^ after this has been repeated two or three times^ 
 will frequently become so excited as to refuse to 
 work ; quarrelling commences^ which ends frequently 
 in serious delay to the working of the line.^'’ Con- 
 sidering the dilapidated condition of the Atlantic 
 Cable^ we may consider it a mercy that a fresh source 
 of quarrel has not been thus mechanically produced 
 between England and the United States. We do not 
 want the relations of the two countries to be further 
 involved by the irritability of telegraphic clerks. 
 Another cause of delay which occurs in telegraph- 
 ing through such great lengths of ^vater as that 
 which the Atlantic Cable had to traverse^ is the 
 retardation which takes place in the current through 
 the charged condition of the wire. To use the words 
 of the report of the Submarine Telegraph Committee^ 
 When a metallic wire is enveloped by a coating of 
 some insulating substance_, as gutta-percha or india- 
 rubber^ and is then surrounded by w'ater or damp 
 earthy the system becomes exactly analogous to a 
 Leyden jar or coated pane ; the insulated covering 
 represents the glass_, the copper wire the inner metallic 
 coatings and the water or moist earth the external 
 coating. The electricity with which the wire is 
 
342 
 
 MESSAGES UNDER THE SEA. 
 
 cliarged^ by bringing tlie pole of an active battery in 
 contact with, it^ acts by induction on the opposite 
 electricity of the surrounding medium^ which in its 
 turn reacts on the electricity of the wire^ drawing 
 more from the source^ and a considerable accumulation 
 is thereby occasioned^ which is greater in proportion 
 to the thinness of the insulating covering. Thus it 
 will be seen that in any case telegraphic communica- 
 tion between us and America must be much slower 
 than it would be by a land line^ where the same 
 impediment to the transmission of the current would 
 not exist. When the Atlantic Submarine Cable was 
 defunct^ the electricians held an inquest upon its 
 remains^ and^ according to the conclusions arrived at 
 by the most eminent of the jury^ three faults were 
 found in the cable; one at a distance from Valentia 
 varying between 245 and 300 miles^ another at 650 
 miles^ and a third near the coast of Newfoundland. 
 A substitute for the Atlantic Submarine Cable is about 
 to be given us in an overland route. Kussia will ere 
 very long complete her land line of telegraph to the 
 mouth of the Amoor ; when this is completed^ a short 
 cable thrown across Behring^s Straits will connect 
 this line with the American wire already extending 
 between California and Cape Eace on the Atlantic,, a 
 distance of 5^000 miles. England will thus be put in 
 communication with America by an eastern instead 
 of a western route — a roundabout way without doubt, 
 and presenting just sufficient difficulties to stimulate 
 the two countries to the completion of the direct ocean 
 path. The Eed Sea Cable, intended to put England 
 
MESSAGES UNDEE THE SEA. 
 
 343 
 
 in communication with, her Indian empire^ was laid 
 after the final failure of the Atlantic Cable^ and one 
 would have thought its engineers would have profited 
 by the errors of the former undertaking. Every cir- 
 cumstance was in favour of this scheme. The Govern- 
 ment gave an unconditional guarantee of 4^ per cent, 
 for fifty years upon the whole capital required for its 
 construction. It was the longest cable yet manufac- 
 tured^ being 3^043 nautical miles in length ; but then 
 it had the great advantage of being divided into 
 several sections. The portion between Suez and 
 Aden was laid in three sections. The firsts between 
 Suez and Cossire^ is 255 nautical miles in length; the 
 second^ between Cossire and Suaken^ is 474 miles ; 
 the thirds between Suaken and Aden^ is 629 miles in 
 length. The second portion^ between Aden and 
 Kurrachee^ our most north-western port in India^ is 
 also divided into three parts. The whole of this line 
 was finished early in 1860 ; but unfortunately one 
 section after another failed^ and at the present moment 
 the Red Sea Cable is as mute as the Atlantic Cable. 
 Within these last three months a neYf Company has 
 been formed to restore the communication^, and it is 
 intended shortly to complete that portion of the cable 
 which runs between Suez and Kurrachee. The suc- 
 cessful laying of the Malta and Alexandria Cable^ just 
 announced^ will thus bring us within five days of India. 
 The failure of the original cable is^ we think^ justly 
 ascribed by the Submarine Telegraph Committee 
 to the fact of its having been designed without 
 regard to the conditions of the climate^ or the 
 
344 
 
 MESSAGES UNDEE THE SEA. 
 
 / 
 
 character of the bottom of the sea over which it had 
 to be laid. 
 
 It has been well said that all our experience with 
 regard to Submarine Telegraphy has been gained by a 
 tentative process. No experience of land lines has 
 been of any avail whilst traversing the ocean depths 
 with the electric spark. The submarine cable has to 
 contend with scores of difficulties and obstructions 
 which no previous knowledge could have avoided ; 
 and our present experience has been purchased at the 
 cost of upwards of eight thousand miles of cable ! It 
 was perhaps an unfortunate thing that the first sub- 
 marine cable laid between Dover and Calais in 1851 
 should have been such an entire success^ inasmuch as 
 in subsequent cables the method of its manufacture 
 and the proceedings of its engineers were servilely 
 copied^ even where nearly every condition was altered. 
 It cannot be doubted that the conditions of each cable 
 should form a separate study^ — the form^ the weighty 
 and the size being entirely dependent upon a hundred 
 varjdng circumstances of sea^ air^ and land. 
 
 Thus it was found that the light cables submerged 
 in the shallow sea between this and Holland were 
 continually being dragged and broken by anchors^ 
 and a steamer and staff were constantly employed in 
 repairing the breakages thus produced. Since a heavy 
 cable^ containing four conducting-wires^ has been sub- 
 stituted for the four single cables used of old^ ships 
 moor to the cable without injmfing it. On the other 
 hand^ there is a limit to the laying of very bulky 
 cables^ especially in great depths^ from the fact that 
 
MESSAGES UNDEE THE SEA. 
 
 345 
 
 there is a difficulty in finding shipping to carry them. 
 Thus the Atlantic Cable^ though a particularly light 
 one^ employed two of the largest vessels that could 
 be found to carry it — the Niarjara, of 5^000 tons^ and 
 the Agamemnon, of 3^200 tons. No single vessel but 
 the Great Eastern could have accomplished the task 
 single-handed. Had the cable been as thick as it 
 should have been^ no steain-vesse]_, or two vessels at 
 present built^ would have been of sufficient tonnage 
 to carry it. Again^ a cable once sunk in these depths 
 is irrecoverable ; indeed^ it is now understood that no 
 submarine telegraph can be fished up at so great a 
 depth as 400 fathoms. The nature of the bottom on 
 which a cable rests has a great deal to do with its 
 preservation or destruction. It has been observed 
 that wherever a cable rests upon ironstone rocks^ a 
 galvanic action is set up which speedily oxidizes its iron 
 wires. Sometimes zoophytes attach themselves to 
 the wires^ and do serious mischief. When the Hague 
 Cable was lifted it was found that^ in one place_, it was 
 loaded with ten miles of rare and fine zoophytes.^^ 
 Where could Mr. Gosse have been on this momentous 
 occasion? These creatures seem to attach themselves 
 to the oxide of the iron wire^ which they further cor- 
 rode by the secretion of an acrid juice from then* 
 footstalks. An immense mass of mussels was found 
 attached to the Channel Islands Cable ; in some 
 instances such an agglomeration of marine creatures 
 is found sticking to the telegraph lines that they 
 measure a foot in diameter. 
 
 A very singular accident hapioened to the cable laid 
 
346 
 
 MESSAGES UNDEE THE SEA. 
 
 in Basses Straits^ Tasmania. This line^ which weighed 
 ten tons per mile^ was absolutely floated by the 
 immense quantities of kelp or seaweed which became 
 attached to it. Again^ it often happens that fatal 
 injury to a cable is produced by seaweed attaching 
 itself to a line situated in a great tideway. The cable 
 is swayed about and speedily becomes abraded^ espe- 
 cially if there happens to be a rocky bottom. The 
 Channel Islands Cable once suffered in this way^ and 
 gave a singular example of the slight pathway along 
 which the electric current will And its way. The cable 
 had been completely destroyed as regards one side of 
 the hemp^ gutta-percha envelope^ and wire^ and no 
 conducting material remained for three inches but an 
 oxide of copper resting on the other half of the insu- 
 lating sheath. Nevertheless^ along this oxide the 
 current was found to flow. Lightning in one instance 
 struck a cable and ran along under the sea for sixteen 
 miles^ when it forced its way out and produced a 
 destructive fault in the insulating envelope. 
 
 The ocean bed and its inhabitants^ however^, are not 
 always the enemies of telegraphy. For instance^ it is 
 found thaL when the cables have worked themselves 
 into the sand or mud^ they are well preserved. The 
 coral insect of warm latitudes appears also to be 
 friendly to telegraphic cables. . When the Malta and 
 Cagliari line was taken up^ in 1858^ after having lain 
 in the water for three years^ a most lovely sight 
 presented itself. Mr. Webb^ the engineer,, who 
 recovered it,, says that about Cape Spartivento^ ‘'^the 
 cable appeared to have been suspended free from the 
 
MESSAGES UNDEE THE SEA. 
 
 347 
 
 ground^ for the young clean coral completely enve- 
 loped it^ and appeared to grow out from it equally in 
 every part of the circumference and in a radiating 
 direction. In some places it was so completely 
 covered that not a particle of the cable was visible for 
 forty or fifty fathoms consecutively^ and as it came out 
 of the water it had the appearance of a huge but 
 beautiful coral necklace.-^^ 
 
 The cable had indeed 
 
 Suffered a sea change 
 Into something rich and strange, 
 
 but it had been perfectly protected from rust. 
 
 Besides the causes of destruction which have to be 
 provided against or avoided when the cable is sub- 
 merged^ it has to contend against microscopic mis- 
 chiefs in the course of manufacture^, which speedily 
 enlarge into fatal faults. Thus whilst the copper wire 
 is being insulated with its sheath of gutta-percha_, 
 which is laid on in a fiuid state_, minute air bubbles, 
 scarcely perceptible to the naked eye, create fine 
 punctures in it. When the cable is laid the electric 
 current finds its way . out by these channels, and 
 gradually burns the hole until the entire electric fluid 
 is enabled to escape into the surrounding water. It is 
 hoped that the use of india-rubber as an insulator will 
 in future obviate the difficulty. 
 
 But there are wilful accidents against which Science 
 is indeed helpless. Thus in laying the Ostend Cable, 
 one of the persons engaged in paying it out, in spite 
 or from some other bad motive, furtively drove a nail 
 through the core, so as to bring into contact the 
 
348 
 
 MESSAGES UNDEE THE SEA. 
 
 copper conducting-wire and the outside protecting 
 wire. The consequence was that the current ceased 
 to flow. Had such a piece of spite been perpetrated 
 upon a cable as long as that crossing the Atlantic^ a 
 third of a million would have been cast into the sea at 
 once: the Koh-i-Hoor thrown overboard wmild 
 not have been so great a loss. 
 
 Our belief in the practical application of Submarine 
 Telegraphy to any lengthy thanks to our advanced 
 knowledge upon the subject^ need not be in the 
 least shaken by the mishaps that have already taken 
 place. Our knowledge^ gained by a bold tentative 
 process^ has solved many difficulties that before 
 seemed insurmountable ; and it is also cheering to 
 know that nearly every failure that has taken place 
 is attributable to deflned and preventible causes. 
 Numerous advances have been made in the manufac- 
 ture of the cables themselves. Difficulties of insula- 
 tion have been entirely overcome^ and the application 
 of india-rubber in this service Avill eliminate in deep- 
 sea cables frequent sources of danger arising from the 
 use of indifferent gutta-percha. 
 
 A frequent cause of the retardation and the 
 weakening of electric currents was of old owing to 
 the imperfect plan on which the copper wire v/as 
 selected. It is now known that the coppers of com- 
 merce vary immensely in their j)ower of transmitting 
 the electric fluid. Thus^ taking 100 as the mean of 
 the pure metal^ it is found that copper from Lake 
 Superior has a conducting power represented by 
 92*57^ whilst Spanish or Eio Tinto copper has only a 
 
MESSAGES UNDER THE SEA. 
 
 349 
 
 conducting povfcr of 14*24_, or not greater than that 
 of iron. So essential is the good transmitting power 
 of the metal along which our messages fly considered^ 
 that contractors have now to supply it for electric 
 purposes according to its conductivity rather than by 
 weight^, a regular standard being always referred to. 
 With regard to the mishaps of paying out deep-sea 
 cables_, the Submarine Telegraph Committee of the 
 House of Commons attribute them mainly to the 
 employment of ships not fitted for the duty^ and they 
 recommend that special vessels should be constructed 
 with a capacity to admit of cables being coiled easily 
 without injury^ and with holds isolated from the 
 engine-rooms. Power and steadiness are other essen- 
 tials required in vessels employed for laying cables 
 which should not be overlooked. When our great 
 submarine -cable contractors have availed themselves 
 of the suggestions which Science has made^ and when 
 shareholders see the necessity of insisting that the 
 cables shall not only be laid but maintained in perfect 
 working order for a certain time^ we feel confident 
 that the era of disaster^ as regards our means of 
 sending messages under the sea^ will have finally 
 passed away. 
 
SMALLPOX IN LONDON. 
 
 An epidemic of smallpox in London in the year 1863 
 — people packing and running into the country — 
 letters in the Times giving certain cures for this 
 loathsome disease ; other letters detailing the best 
 means of preventing pitting^^ — persons blotched 
 with scarcely- dried pustules meeting you in every 
 street ! Shade of Jenner^ is the merciful shield which 
 thy genius has held over us for more than half a 
 century pierced and broken at last ? And are we to 
 mourn the reappearance of a once-conquered plague^ 
 and to bewail afresh its ravages upon youthful beauty? 
 There is scarcely warranty for all these fears^ but 
 there is quite enough warning given to show us that^ 
 although the shield is as impervious as ever^ we are 
 neglecting from time to time to use it. The Kegistrar- 
 Generahs returns for these last eight or nine months 
 prove that smallpox is gradually gaining upon us^ and 
 that for months past the deaths from this disease have 
 averaged something higher than sixty weekly. 
 
 The cause of all this is the difficulty of getting the 
 public to take even the smallest trouble for the sake of 
 warding off a merely prospective evil ; or perhaps we 
 
SMALLPOX IX LOXDOX. 
 
 351 
 
 may rather ascribe it to that immobility of the human 
 mind which is such a bar to progress of every kind. 
 
 Without going into a detailed history of the pro- 
 ceedings of Jenner_, we may say that the tardy dis- 
 covery of vaccination itself affords one of the best 
 examples of the length of time the seed of an idea 
 calculated to save an enormous amount of human 
 suffering to all posterity will sometimes lie in the 
 mind before it bears fruit. Let us take inoculation 
 as an instance. 
 
 At a time when smallpox was as destructive as the 
 plague itself^ Lady Mary Wortley Montagu^ happening 
 to be at Adrianople^ was struck with the fact that the 
 Turks were in the habit of making terms with the 
 disease^ by receiving it into their system by way of 
 the skin^ instead of by the lungs^ as in the natural 
 mode of infection. Possibly the lively nature of the 
 lady^s letters had more to do with the sensation this 
 new practice created in England than the magnitude 
 of the truth she made known^ and to this day we 
 believe that the public have some idea that it was a 
 discovery made by her ladyship^ and which she had 
 the boldness to put in practice upon her own son. 
 Yet no fact is more certain than that throughout Asia 
 the practice of inoculation had obtained for ages ; and 
 that the Chinese — the inevitable nation to which we 
 have always to go back for the birth of any great dis- 
 covery — systematically employed inoculation as early 
 as the sixth century. YeL strange to say^ in Asia this 
 precious knowledge came to a dead standstill; and 
 had it not been for the lively English lady^ inoculation 
 
352 
 
 SMALLPOX IN LONDON. 
 
 might not have been introduced into England for 
 another half-century^ and possibly vaccination would 
 even now be in the womb of Time. 
 
 That inoculation was a grand step towards the 
 practice of vaccination there can be little doubt_, 
 although Science did not at the time appreciate the 
 fact. It taught us that the disease received into the 
 circulation by the skin was infinitely less dangerous 
 than the disease caught by inhalation through the 
 lungs^ a circumstance which medicine cannot explain 
 to this day. The deaths from smallpox during some 
 of the severe epidemics of the last century were not 
 less than a third of those attacked^ but the improved 
 practice of inoculation reduced these deaths to one in 
 two hundred ! 
 
 This in itself^ no doubt^ was a grand result^ but 
 unfortunately it told only for those who were inocu- 
 lated ; for inasmuch as it was the practice of physicians 
 to send their patients into the open air^ and as inocu- 
 lated smallpox was as contagious as the disease pure 
 and simple^ those persons in their turn became centres 
 of contagion. If it had been possible to have insulated 
 every inoculated person until he had passed the stage 
 of infection^ it is just possible that vaccination might 
 not yet have been discovered^ inasmuch as half- 
 measures often keep off for a long time sweeping 
 reforms ; but as this was not possible^ inoculation only 
 made matters worse. 
 
 This fact was clearly proved by the London Bills of 
 Mortality^ which showed that during the first thirty 
 years of the eighteenth centmy (before inoculation) 
 
SMALLPOX IN LONDON. 
 
 353 
 
 out of 1^000 cleatlis^ those from smallpox were seventy- 
 four^ whilst during an equal number of years at the 
 end of the century^ after inoculation^ they amounted 
 to ninety-five — ^thus proving that the practice had 
 increased the deaths in a proportion of five to four. 
 This result^ however_, came from putting the practice 
 in force in a crowded city ; no doubt the result would 
 have been widely different in country places and 
 among thinly-populated districts^ otherwise it w^ould 
 not have been handed down for centuries over vast 
 continents. 
 
 But the extreme difficulty wfith which the idea of 
 vaccination germinated was still more remarkable than 
 the slow progress made by inoculation. It must not 
 be supposed that Jenner was the first to discover that 
 the inoculation of the matter from pustules in the 
 cow^s teat afforded a protection to the milkers against 
 smallpox. So far from this being the case^ the fact 
 was noticed in a Gottingen paper as early as 1769; 
 and at Keil^ in Germany^ and also in Holstein^ the 
 protective influence of the cowpox eruption was 
 recognized nearly as early. Strange to say^ in Asia 
 also^ in the province of Lus^ the milkers have a 
 disease long known as Photo- Shooter^ contracted from 
 milking the camel in the same way as cowpox is 
 contracted from milking the cow^ and it is found to 
 be equally protective against the smallpox. It was 
 Jenner^ s glory that^ having become acquainted with 
 the fact from the Gloucestershire dairymaids^ by a 
 pure process of induction he proved the value of the 
 protective agent^ by first inoculating the boy Phipps 
 
 2 A 
 
354 
 
 SMALLPOX IN LONDON. 
 
 with the cowpox^ and^ after the lapse of some little 
 time^ testing its protective power by inoculating small- 
 pox^ the failure of which to produce the dread disease 
 affording the final proof of the value of vaccination. 
 From the lymph taken from this boy^s arm^ he drew 
 and put in circulation the new life-protecting agent. 
 All the early vaccinations were made from him^ and 
 indeed there can be no doubt that a large quantity of 
 the vaccine matter at present in existence took its rise 
 from the ferment promoted in the boy^s blood by the 
 original operation performed in 1796. In justice^ a 
 bas-relief of this bold youth should have been placed 
 on the basement of the statue to Jenner^ as a reward 
 for allowing so doubtful an experiment to have been 
 tried upon his own person for the good of mankind. 
 
 Although he suspected the fact^ it was not certainly 
 known to Jenner that smallpox and cowpox were the 
 same thing ; or rather^ that the latter is only a modified 
 form of the former^ its venom having been destroyed 
 by passing through the body of the cow. 
 
 In the year 1801^ Dr. Gassner^ of Gunzburg, after 
 many trials^ managed to inoculate smallpox into a cow, 
 and from the lymph thereby produced he vaccinated 
 four children successfully ; and forty years afterwards 
 Dr. Thiele, of Kasan, not only repeated this experi- 
 ment, but carried it a step further by placing the 
 vaccinated children in the same bed with smallpox 
 patients, and even had them vaccinated with smallpox 
 matter, with perfect impunity. Since that time, Mr. 
 Badcock, of Brighton, has put this discovery to a 
 highly practical use, inasmuch as by inoculating cows 
 
SMALLPOX IN LONDON. 
 
 355 
 
 with smallpox he has from time to time been enabled 
 to put large quantities of vaccine lymph into circula- 
 tion^ — a very important matter_, as there can be little 
 doubt that the old stock has become deteriorated^ 
 and has ceased to be so protective in its influence as 
 heretofore. 
 
 Dr. Jenner_, we know_, put upon record ^^his full 
 and perfect confidence that it (the protective influence 
 of vaccine lymph) might be continued in perpetuity by 
 inoculating from one human being to another in the 
 same way as smallpox/^ and this opinion the Vaccine 
 Board has very lately endorsed. Theoretically this is 
 perhaps true ; nevertheless^ there is good reason to 
 doubt the fact practically^ as operators sometimes 
 take their lymph from imperfectly-formed or over-ripe 
 vesicles_, a known cause of enfeeblement of its action. 
 It is well known^ at all events^ that fresh lymph from 
 the cow takes better/-^ gives signs of producing more 
 constitutional disturbance,, and forms a truer Jennerian 
 vesicle (the great proof of successful vaccination)^ than 
 is produced by lymph which has passed through a long 
 descent from the cow. As this is a statement which 
 especially refers to the comparatively deficient quality 
 of the general current lymph of the country^ it is 
 highly important^ and^ as Mr. Simon very justly says,, 
 it points to the necessity for a periodical renewal of 
 lymph. 
 
 It is pretty generally allowed^ however,, that even 
 when vaccination is performed on children in the most 
 perfect manner with the purest lymph^ there is a 
 necessity for a re-vaccination about the age of puberty ; 
 2 A 2 
 
356 
 
 SMALLPOX IN LONDON. 
 
 lienee the rush we see for a re-assurance against 
 infection during the existing epidemic. 
 
 We have no longer^ it is true^ the absurd charges 
 against vaccination so strongly urged at the com- 
 mencement of the present century. Boys are no 
 longer instanced who^ in consequence of the influence 
 of the beastly vaccine matter introduced into their 
 bloody have been heard to bellow/^ we hear no 
 more of patches of hair resembling cow^s hair ; horns 
 have ceased to grow from children's foreheads; but 
 the cry is not altogether dead^ and we hear from time 
 to time of eruptions over the head and body following 
 the lancet^s puncture. 
 
 These are mild charges, faults which the great 
 discovery can afford to have placed to its debit, even 
 when untruly made ; but in France a far graver 
 offence has been of late imputed to vaccination, and 
 one which has attracted the attention of all the 
 scientific professors of medicine. It was asserted that 
 vaccination was chargeable with inoculating a loath- 
 some disease into the blood. The evidence given was 
 pretty conclusive, and for a time JenneFs discovery 
 seemed to be placed once more upon its trial. The 
 discussion which ensued did not reach the public ear, 
 but it was fierce enough to shake the faith for a 
 moment of good men and true. At last, however, to 
 the intense relief of Medicine, it was ascertained that 
 although the disease had undoubtedly been trans- 
 mitted with the vaccine lymph, yet it had not been 
 transmitted in it, — an unskilful vaccinator having 
 removed some of the blood as well as the lymph of an 
 
SMALLPOX IN LONDON. 
 
 357 
 
 infected cliild^ the consequence was that the next 
 child vaccinated received a double infection. This^ 
 was no charge against vaccination^ but only against 
 the manner in which the act had been performed. As 
 there is but one blood disease that can possibly be 
 thus inoculated^ and that but under the rarest possible 
 combination of circumstances which may never recur 
 again^ all fear under this head may be said to have 
 gone by. 
 
 Thus the last chance has passed away of justifying 
 the extraordinary epitaph erected in the church of 
 Rood Lane^ City^ by the sister of Mr. Birch^ one of 
 the surgeons of St. Thomases Hospital^ which comme- 
 morates that the practice of cowpoxing, which first 
 became general in his day^ undaunted by the over- 
 whelming influence of power and prejudice,, and the 
 voice of nations^ he uniformly and until death (1815) 
 perseveringly opposed.^^ Mankind are fond enough of 
 proclaiming themselves true prophets after the events 
 but perhaps this is the first instance on record in 
 which a man^s friends have been so proud of his 
 having been a false prophet as to proclaim the fact in 
 enduring stone. 
 
 But^ it will be asked,, how was it vaccination 
 having been so thoroughly proved an absolute pro- 
 tection against smallpox^ that we meet persons in 
 crowded places with the eruption still full upon them^ 
 and that more people died in the months of March 
 and April last^ from a disease we had fondly imagined 
 banished^ than in any two previous years ? Nay^ so 
 severe has it become,, especially among children^ that 
 
358 
 
 . SMALLPOX IX LONDON. 
 
 there has been a regular panic in town respecting it^ 
 and there were^ at one time^ fears among the West- 
 end tradesmen that it would cause the session to 
 come to an untimely end. 
 
 Let us admit it at once. This result is only one 
 •example of the price we pay for our determined oppo- 
 sition to centralization. We put the liberty of the 
 individual above every other consideration^ and we 
 see that public danger is the result. 
 
 In comparison with most of the great European 
 nations^ England^ the very source of vaccination^ is by 
 far the worst protected against smallpox of them all. 
 Sweden^ Denmark^ Prussia^ and Austria stand parti- 
 cularly high in this respect^ for the simple reason 
 that children are vaccinated in those countries with 
 the same certainty that they are registered at 
 birth in this. 
 
 Some ten or twelve years ago^ chiefly at the instance 
 of the medical profession^ a compulsory Act was 
 passed^ directing that all children should be vacci- 
 nated within four months from birth. The sages^ 
 however^ who passed this law forgot to enact ma- 
 chinery by which it could be worked. There were 
 penalties^ it is true^ for non-compliance with the AcL 
 but no reasonable means of putting them in force. 
 When the Act first passed^ the public for a time were 
 frightened into a steady compliance with its require- 
 ments ; but they soon found out that the law if it 
 barked could not bite^ and by degrees parents, 
 especially among the poorer classes, began to 
 neglect an act which, for the preservation of their 
 
SMALLPOX IN LONDON. 
 
 359 
 
 children's lives^ was just as essential as their clothing 
 and food. 
 
 Moreover^ the duty of vaccination was by some 
 unaccountable blunder placed under the direction of 
 the Poor-law Board, which contracted with medical 
 men for the vaccination of their respective districts. 
 In some cases there is at present such competition for 
 contracts, that there are two vaccinators for one child : 
 consequently poor parents imagine that they are 
 conferring a favour upon the vaccinator in allowing 
 the child to be protected against death ; and they will 
 attempt to make a bargain with the doctor, saying. 
 
 You shall vaccinate baby if you will give so and so 
 a bottle of physic,^^ or if you will give us a jiot of 
 beer."^^ The most rooted antipathy to allow children 
 to be vaccinated — we are again told by the Inspector 
 of Vaccination — is removed by twopence, or the 
 presentation of a toy. Can anything be more absurd 
 than this ? If there are faults upon the part of parents, 
 there are also faults in the kind of vaccination which 
 is offered or rather thrust upon them. Upon the 
 efficient manner in which the act of vaccination is 
 performed depends the success of the operation. It 
 is a delicate, if not a difficult, act to perform ; but 
 will it be believed that a duty which is necessary to 
 shield the population from a terrible disease is not 
 taught in one of our public hospitals ? 
 
 The student passes from these great places of study 
 as ignorant of vaccination as the savage in the woods. 
 When he gets into practice he manages to pick up 
 his information as best he can. Consequently, the 
 
360 
 
 SMALLPOX IN LONDON. 
 
 method of transferring the vaccine lymph from arm to 
 arm^ or from the vaccine point to the arm^ differs as 
 widely as the ideas of men can differ who have to act 
 without any previous knowledge on a given subject. 
 Some merely scratch the skin; others make a deep 
 puncture ; in some cases only two incisions are made, 
 but the perfect vaccinator will always make three 
 incisions on each arm. In many cases through igno- 
 rance the lymph is taken from the arm when it is 
 over-ripe, and the consequence is not only a source of 
 failure in its power of protection, but a fear that it 
 may cause many of those unsightly eruptions which 
 are known to follow the act of vaccination from 
 impure lymph. 
 
 We have said enough, and more than enough, to 
 show that in the present state of the law we can never 
 be certain either that the population is well vaccinated, 
 or that the lower stratum of it is vaccinated at all. 
 When an epidemic arises, people rush to the vacci- 
 nation stations to protect their little ones against the 
 arrows of pestilence which they see flying around them 
 and striking here and there to the death ; but the 
 epidemic passes, and their fears with it — a new crop of 
 unvaccinated children springs up, and a new epidemic, 
 to be repeated every four or five years, sweeps off these 
 neglected children, and spreads terror and contagion 
 amon^ adults. 
 
 o 
 
 The Government have yet to realize the fact that 
 we must create a standing army of well- trained medical 
 men, well officered, and ready to meet this enemy 
 day by day, and beat him in detail, and not to allow him 
 
SMALLPOX IN LONDON. 
 
 361 
 
 to overwhelm us by sudden onslaughts. To give this 
 protective force due efficacy^ it should have a medical 
 organization^ and not be frittered away among poor- 
 law boards^ vaccine boards^ or the many conflicting 
 authorities which now create such friction^ and make 
 the working of the Vaccination Act a perfect nullity. 
 We have an Officer of Health; why should not the 
 working of the machinery of vaccination be entrusted 
 wholly to him ? And if^ having given him the proper 
 instruments and subordinates for the due carrying out 
 of Jenner^s discovery, he fails (which he would scarcely 
 do), we should dismiss him, and appoint another, as 
 our Yankee friends are now doing with those com- 
 manders -in-chief who have failed against the pubhc 
 enemy in the field. 
 
TOWN TELEOEAPHS. 
 
 Whilst this metropolis and all other parts of the 
 civilized world have long been put in speedy connec- 
 tion by means of the Electric Telegraphy the three 
 millions of people living within the Post-Office radius 
 havey until very latelyy been denied the use of this 
 necessary of life. This fact is the more strange inas- 
 much as the dealings of the great public are much 
 more with their immediate neighbours than with those 
 who live at a distance. Yet while any one could be 
 put in instant communication with the mountaineers 
 of Switzerland or the Tyroly he had not the means of 
 talking across the town with his own wife or servants 
 at Hampstead. Like some pious missionarieSy in 
 looking too much abroad we had overlooked the needs 
 of home. Howevery the pedestrian who makes his 
 way along the streetSy on looking upy discovers that 
 the town is being gradually wired in overhead like the 
 cage of the polar bear at the Zoological GardenSy must 
 have discovered that this omission is in rapid progress 
 of being corrected. In facty telegraphic companies 
 are running a race to take possession of the air over 
 our headsy which almost equals the speed with which 
 
TOWN TELEGRAPHS. 
 
 363 
 
 the engineers are burrowing underground with their 
 rails. Look where we will alofL we cannot avoid 
 seeing either thick cables suspended by gossamer 
 threads^ or parallel lines of wdre in immense numbers 
 sweeping from post to post^ fixed on the house-tops 
 and suspended over long distances. Two companies 
 at present contest the aerial right of way^ the District 
 Telegraph Company and the Universal Private Tele- 
 graph Company. The wires of the former may be 
 known by their being hung in parallel rows like those 
 we see running beside the railway lines^ and the latter 
 by the thick cable slung from the two wires above. 
 
 As the public have the more direct dealings with the 
 former company^ we may first describe its method of 
 action and organization. Originally the wires of this 
 company^ insulated by gutta-percha_, ran underground 
 in pipes sunken beneath the pavement^ but the difii- 
 culty of preventing injury from the damp has induced 
 the engineer to adopt in most recent lines the over- 
 head system; consequently not more than one-third 
 of the wires are now subterranean^ whilst two-thirds 
 are hung aloft_, and simply galvanized to prevent 
 oxidation. Within a radius of two miles of Charing 
 Cross^ the crossing and recrossing of these wires over- 
 head is incessant^ and the public are never distant 
 more than five minutes from any office for the recep- 
 tion of messages. As the area becomes more 
 extended these stations are more scattered ; but 
 along all the great lines of road telegraphic stations 
 are sure to be found within a mile of each other. At 
 the present moment there are upwards of eighty 
 
364 
 
 TOWN TELEGRAPHS. 
 
 stations in the metropolis and its environs belonging* 
 to this Company^ all of which are in direct communica- 
 tion with the head office in Cannon Street ; indeed^ all 
 the lines must^ by present arrangements^ speak 
 through this centre^ just as all nervous impressions 
 must be conveyed through the brain. This is by no 
 means a necessity of the system^ but only a condition 
 of progressive development^ which will be altered as 
 the public call for more accommodation^ — and they are 
 doing so every day. Before long^ district centres 
 for collecting and re-distributing messages will be 
 adopted^ as they have been by the Post-Office autho- 
 rities. Meanwhile^ the delay caused by the circuitous 
 routes taken by the wires is not very great. We wish 
 particularly to call attention to the question of time in 
 the forwarding of messages by this Company^ as many 
 persons are under the impression that a commission’- 
 naire can do his spiriting quicker in consequence 
 of the delays in transmitting a message and its 
 porterage. We may say that in no case^ except by 
 culpable neglect^ should a telegraphic message take 
 more than half an hour in reaching its ultimate tele- 
 graphic destination^ a delay sometimes unavoidable^, 
 in consequence of the wires being already engaged; 
 but all delays consequent upon the little boy who 
 generally acts as Mercury being out or engaged when 
 the message arrives at the suburban or other stations^ 
 are inexcusable^ as by a rule of the company the office- , 
 keeper_, who is generally either a proprietor of a district 
 post-office or a small tradesman^ is empowered_, after ten 
 minutes^ delay^ to call in an extra messenger^ of which 
 
TOWN TELEGRAPHS. 
 
 365 
 
 there are always plenty hanging about. If, then^ 
 any person should experience extraordinary delay in 
 receiving a message^ he should^ as a matter of duty^ 
 complain to the Secretary in Cannon Street^ for it is 
 only by so doing that the sound working of the 
 system can be insured. We have been very slow in 
 adopting the new system_, but the public are beginning 
 rapidly to see the value of the wire in intra-metro- 
 politan communications. For instance^ the messages 
 have increased from 73^480 received in 1860^ to 
 251^548 received in 1862 ; and the trading community, 
 as well as individuals for domestic and social purposes, 
 are beginning to use it. For instance, Mr. Chubb 
 notifies, through public advertisements, that in case 
 any person should have left the key of his safe or desk 
 at home, by telegraphing to him he will send a dupli- 
 cate to any address. Tradesmen, again, inform their 
 customers that they may give their orders free of 
 charge by means of the telegraph. In order to foster 
 this branch of business, messages at the rate of one 
 hundred for twenty shillings are now issued. As the 
 head office in Cannon Street (City) is in communica- 
 tion with all the electric lines both land and sub- 
 marine, these district offices may be considered as not 
 only for the use of the metropolis, but as gathering- 
 points for the country and continental telegraphs. 
 The London District Telegraph Company have been 
 laying out private wires for the use of individuals 
 requiring to telegraph between their own establish- 
 ments, but this is a line of business in which they 
 cannot compete, we think, successfully, with the 
 
366 
 
 TOWN TELEGEAPHS. 
 
 Universal Private Telegraph Company^ for reasons 
 which we shall explain. 
 
 The Universal Private Telegraph Company make no 
 outward sign like the District Company ; indeed^ they 
 have no points of contact with the crowds who pass 
 along the streets.’ The Company simply undertakes 
 to put the merchant's country-house in direct com- 
 munication with his ofhce^ houses of business with 
 their branches^ public offices with public offices; in 
 fact^ its mission is to supply renters with so many 
 miles of private wire to run between house and house 
 at a given price^ and to provide telegraphic apparatus 
 which can be worked by persons in the office^ or 
 counter^ or drawing-room^ as the case may be. Of 
 course^ it would be impossible profitably to provide a 
 separate wire with its appropriate suspending posts to 
 every renter at any reasonable price. Consequently^ 
 a system of combined action has been adopted for 
 which Professor Wheatstone has taken out a patent. 
 Por instance^ supposing that a hundred renters of 
 wires lie on either hand of some great main thorough- 
 fare^ these hundred wires^ for such a distance as they 
 can be conveniently made to run together^ are 
 enclosed in one cable^ carefully insulated from each 
 other by india-rubber. These cables are so arranged 
 as to form nearly equilateral triangles^ each angle 
 having a base of nearly a mile ; the cable, however_^ 
 being supported by wires slung from posts erected on 
 the tops of the houses at every two hundred yards. 
 At the intersection of every angle a mile apart, strain- 
 ing posts are erected for tightening the wires and for 
 
TOWN TELEGRAPHS. 
 
 367 
 
 giving each individual wire its direction of departure. 
 If the spectator only observes one of these posts, he 
 will see that it gives off filaments of wire in every 
 direction : these private wires, having come along 
 the cable in common with others for a given distance, 
 are now making their way down into the offices and 
 houses of their renters in the most direct way they 
 can consistently with the triangular system of laying 
 out the lines we have mentioned. Although a 
 hundred wires are in some instances embedded |^in 
 the same cable, the Company find no difficulty in 
 discovering immediately the fault that may occur in 
 any one of them, as at every two hundred yards the 
 suspending pole is provided with a connecting box or 
 plate pierced with small holes, through which every 
 
368 
 
 TOWN TELEGEAPHS. 
 
 separate wire^ C)r returning^ spreads out from 
 
 tlie cable^ and having thus passed^ is bound together 
 again on the other side and proceeds to the 
 next point. 
 
 These holes are all numbered; consequently any 
 failure of the electric current can be narrowed to a 
 distance of 200 yards^ and at once set right. By this 
 system of telegraphy the communication is instanta- 
 neous ; there is no waiting until other messages have 
 passed^ for the simple reason that no one else but the 
 renter can possibly use it. Its speed is also greatly 
 in its favour ; as. many as 150 letters a minute can be 
 telegraphed by a nimble hand^ whilst any person can 
 send and read messages by it. The needle telegraph 
 used by the skilled operators on the long lines is 
 perfectly unintelligible to the uninitiated ; but the 
 
 The Communicator. 
 
 child who can spell is as capable of sending a message 
 as the egcjoerty when these simple telegraphs of Wheat- 
 
TOWN TELEGRAPHS. 
 
 369 
 
 stone are employed. The Communicator looks like a 
 small clocks with the twenty- six letters of the alphabet 
 and the nine numerals inscribed on its face ; each of 
 these letters and numerals is moved by a small lever. 
 The person telegraphing^ by pressing down the pedal 
 or lever attached to each letter^ sends a pulse of 
 electricity through the length of wire^ which makes a 
 needle point to a similar letter on the face of an 
 Indicator at the other end of the wire^ which is being 
 watched by the person receiving the message. We 
 may remark here that it has been objected that unless 
 a person is always in the room where the message is 
 received^ and whose attention would have been 
 attracted to the Indicator by the ringing of its bell^ 
 
 The Indicator. 
 
 that messages would in these private transactions 
 often be told to the barren air ; but Professor Wheat- 
 stone has just completed a most extraordinary instru- 
 ment^ by which messages are printed in ordinary 
 letter type on slips of tinfoil^ and no human receiver 
 
 2 B 
 
370 
 
 TOWN TELEGEAPHS. 
 
 is at all necessary : all that a man has to do when he 
 comes into his room^ is to unlock a box and take out 
 the roll of tinfoil^ and read the message that has been 
 sent in his absence. This automatic action^ which 
 acts perfectly is one of the most astounding things in 
 the world; and the self-acting printing-box^ to any 
 uneducated person^ must look like nothing else than 
 magic. The private telegraph of this Company is 
 becoming a necessity of every large public or private 
 establishment having separate places of business. All 
 the Government offices are about to possess them. 
 The different stations of the Fire Brigade are thus 
 bound together ; and the police-stations are similarly 
 connected. At the time of the great fire in Tooley 
 Street^, on which occasion an excited and densely- 
 packed crowd completely prevented the passing of 
 any messenger through it^ these telegraphs did 
 immense service in enabling the authorities to hold in 
 their hand the means of instant communication with 
 distant divisional station-houses. In case of a serious 
 riot it would be inva^luable^ as the wires could not be 
 cut unless entrances to the private houses over which 
 they passed were first obtained. M. Eeuter has not 
 been slow to see the advantages of these private 
 telegraphs^ as by their means he sends his telegrams 
 directly into the editors^ room of nearly every daily 
 paper in London. The London and Westminster 
 Bank is now in instant communication with all its 
 branches^ and the importance of this new agent in 
 banking affairs will most certainly be seen and fol- 
 lowed by all the other houses. Even medical men 
 
TOWN TELEGRAPHS. 
 
 371 
 
 have laid them down^ or rather hung them up^ between 
 their private houses and consulting-rooms. 
 
 It is but due^ however^ to the enterprising North to 
 say that the great merchants in its teeming cities have 
 been the first to promote the further extension of the 
 system^ not only between house and house^ but 
 between town and town. Thus^ nearly all the great 
 manufacturers in the towns surrounding Manchester 
 possess private lines of telegraph with each other^ and 
 with the central capital around which they are 
 grouped. In Liverpool and Glasgow cables are 
 radiating in all directions^ to the thickly populated 
 neighbom-hoods in their vicinity. Indeed_, before 
 long, these private telegraphs will be as universal as 
 the use of bells, and the time is not distant when, so 
 far as great public and private establishments are 
 concerned, everybody will be able to talk with every- 
 body without going out of the house. We may state, 
 in conclusion, that there is no possible connection 
 between the wires of these two Companies, except as 
 the effect of mere accident. Thus, on one occasion, 
 an uninsulated filament descending from one of the 
 cables belonging to the Private Telegraph Company, 
 broke, and fell across one of the naked wires of the 
 District Telegraph Company. The consequence was 
 a violent quarrel between the private sender of the 
 message and the public receiver, on to whose wire the 
 errant message had wandered ; but these incidents 
 belong rather to the curiosities of Telegraphy than to 
 the ordinary incidents connected with the rivalry of 
 the different Companies. 
 
 2 B 2 
 
HOSPITAL DISTRESS. 
 
 The foreigner wtio looks into the advertising pages 
 of the morning papers^ cannot fail to be struck with 
 the apparently bankrupt condition of our London 
 Hospitals. Day by day a column and a half of most 
 urgent advertisements assure the public thaL unless 
 immediate aid is given^ half their wards must be shut 
 up. Side by side with these begging appeals are to 
 be found others^ equally pathetic^ imploring aid for 
 the completion of hospitals the necessity for which is 
 more than doubtful. 
 
 But let us ask in sober calmness^ what is the cause 
 of the growth of charitable bricks and mortar^ and 
 what is its tendency ? To read the carefully worded 
 advertisements^ it would appear that hospitals_, in the 
 metropolis at leasL were erected solely on the behalf 
 of suffering humanity ; and that the more we build^ 
 the better for society. Anyone who knows anything 
 the working of our metropolitan charitable insti- 
 tutions^ is fully aware how far this is from the real — ■ 
 •and we must add^ in too many cases^ the vulgar — 
 fruth. It is noticeable that most of our new hospitals 
 are dedicated to the treatment of special diseases ; 
 
HOSPITAL DISTEESS. 
 
 373 
 
 and it is further observable that most of these have 
 originated in the energetic action of some individual. 
 The germ of such, buildings is the Dispensary. An 
 energetic surgeon makes up his mind to step to fame 
 and fortune by means of bricks and mortar. But^ 
 first of all^ he must hit upon some striking speciality 
 — the Dispensary for the Treatment of Inverted 
 Eyelashes/^ for instance. A quiet house is taken in 
 a side street^ patrons and patronesses are canvassed 
 for^ and in an incredibly short space of time a goodly 
 sprinkling of the aristocracy have been found to 
 pledge themselves to serve suffering humanity and 
 
 Mr. ^ in the matter of inverted eyelashes. There 
 
 is an annual list of subscribers^ and the accounts are 
 of course audited ; but possibly a more searching 
 inquiry than dilettante auditors are likely to give 
 
 would prove that Mr. in his account with poor 
 
 humanity has much the best of it. This goes on for 
 a certain number of years^ when it is found that eye- 
 lashes are becoming inverted in alarming numbers ; 
 indeed^ there are carefully got up statistics to prove 
 that every tenth person is suffering from this terrible 
 disease^ the study of which needs a larger sphere than 
 the Dispensary^ with its 20^000 (!) cases j)er annum^^ 
 can possibly afford — in shorty the dispensary bud 
 must expand into a hospital. There are certain 
 persons who seem to have been born only to be 
 manipulated out of their money for the erection of 
 new hospitals. It may be incontestably proved that 
 inverted eyelashes can be treated in the old-established 
 hospital close at hand ; but that fact seems never 
 
374 
 
 HOSPITAL DISTEESS. 
 
 to have entered the thoughts of the gentlemen 
 and ladies who so obsequiously follow the lead of 
 
 the ambitious Mr. who is determined that there 
 
 shall be a building devoted to nothing but misplaced 
 eyelashes, and perhaps — ^but this is of course quite 
 under the rose — to himself. 
 
 In due course of time, the special hospital is 
 completed. The old woman who used to sweep 
 out the Dispensary is converted into the proud 
 hall-porter ; the small table in the back room is 
 developed into the ample board-room; the matron 
 and the house-steward stand in respectful attitudes ; 
 
 and Mr. is proudly conscious of the pinnacle of 
 
 human greatness that he occupies (in his subordinates^ 
 eyes at least), when the Board become perfectly con- 
 scious that the establishment is eating up all them 
 means, and that, unless a charitable public,^^ &c., 
 come forward, thousands of inverted eyelashes will 
 be left to their miserable fate. Such is the history 
 of half the special hospitals at present existing in the 
 metropolis. Founded in the grossest self-seeking on 
 the part of some individual^ they are matured only 
 through a system of mendicancy already strained 
 to the uttermost, and which sooner or later must 
 give way. 
 
 But let us ask, — Do these special hospitals subserve 
 to the education of pupils? Most decidedly not. 
 Their tendency is to starve the general hospitals, 
 where the schools are established, of that variety 
 of cases which is so instructive to the future prac- 
 titioner. Moreover, this splitting up of specialities 
 
HOSPITAL DISTRESS. 
 
 375 
 
 with a more than Egyptian minuteness has a tendency 
 to destroy that unity of disease which the philosophic 
 mind should always keep in view. The hospitals for 
 inverted toenails and for inverted eyelashes may turn 
 out clever operators in their very confined depart- 
 ments of surgery ; but they will never furnish great 
 surgeons^ or advance the art beyond mere manipu- 
 lative smartness. 
 
 There are certain large specialities^ of course^ to 
 which our argument does not apply ; but these excep- 
 tions must be patent to the reader. It is in surgery^ 
 more than in medicine^ that we have erred in this 
 respect. Independently of the scientific and edu- 
 cational evidence against these trivial special hos- 
 pitals^ there is the one great financial reason^ that 
 they squander the means of the charitable. Every 
 one of these petty hospitals has its working staffs 
 besides the building itself^ the expense of keeping 
 up which^ in many cases^ is the chief charge which 
 tender-hearted and humane people are called upon to 
 pay. It is this useless multiplication of machinery 
 which is tending to exhaust the purses of the cha- 
 ritable^ and to bring the principle of voluntary con- 
 tribution ynto bad odour ; and we most heartily hope 
 and trust that our great provincial cities and towns 
 will^ in this respect^ look upon our London practice 
 as a matter to be avoided^, rather than to be servilely 
 followed. 
 
THE BREAD WE EAT. 
 
 Any one who travels along the bye-streets of London 
 comes now and then across what is called a cutting 
 baker^s shop/^ If he be a family man^ and knows the 
 current price of the four-pound loaf^ he is surprised to 
 find the cottage and tin that he sees marked 
 up in the shop-window^ sold at a penny or twopence 
 lower than he is in the habit of paying at home. If 
 he goes in and examines the staff of life^ he is struck 
 with its whiteness and apparent fineness. At first 
 sight it would seem that the poor man got a better 
 article for less money than the rich and well-to-do 
 classes ; but a little inquiry into the method by which 
 these cutting bakers ^‘'make things pleasant soon 
 dissipates this seeming anomaly. The size of the loaf^ 
 for instance^ is by no means commensurate with the 
 amount of nutriment it contains^ for the simple reason 
 that it may be made with more or less water. The 
 cheap baker_, for the sake of pumping up his loaf to 
 the biggest size^ mixes his dough very thin^ and^ by 
 only three-parts baking it, makes the steam swell it 
 enormously. Consequently,, the poor man who buys 
 nevf bread pays,, say sevenpence or sevenpence half- 
 
THE BKEAD WE EAT. 
 
 377 
 
 penny a pounds for so much steam. These pufiy 
 loaves^ again^ are generally made with damaged flour_, 
 which will not by itself make a white loaf ; to correct 
 this^ alum is added, which so whitens the bread that it 
 looks even fairer than that made from the best wheat : 
 indeed, great whiteness in the household loaf must 
 a%ays be looked upon with suspicion. This process 
 of mixing the thin dough, and then imperfectly baking 
 the loaf, not only takes in the poor man, but enables 
 the baker to make more loaves out of a sack of flour. 
 The conscientious baker makes, on an average, ninety 
 loaves out of a sack ; the under-seller, however, 
 manages to turn out from ninety-four to ninety-six. 
 If he makes ten sacks a week (a low average), he thus 
 fraudulently obtains some flfty four-pound loaves over 
 and above the respectable baker. This will account 
 for the fair appearance of the bread in the windows 
 of the cutting baker,^^ and also for the sensa- 
 tion announcements posted in their shops : Down 
 again,^^ Bread a penny cheaper,^^ which in many 
 cases may be read more water in it.^^ The process 
 of adulteration by means of alum is not only a fraud 
 upon the purchaser, but also positively injurious to all 
 delicate adults and young children ; indeed it is the 
 sole cause of nearly half the troubles of babies fed 
 upon bread and milk, since the astringent nature of 
 the alum entirely deranges the digestion of their 
 delicate stomachs. Further, as a rule, the cheaper 
 the bread, the more of this deleterious substance is 
 to be found in it. 
 
 Yet now and then it is to be discovered in the 
 
378 
 
 THE BEEAD WE EAT. 
 
 bread of the most respectable bakers. When Dr. 
 Hassalhs analysis of bread appeared in the Lancet, 
 some of the most respectable men in the trade were 
 surprised to find that he had detected alum in their 
 loaves. Knowing they were innocent of putting it 
 in during the process of baking, it occurred to some 
 of them to have the fiour analyzed ; and lo ! the 
 delinquent turned out to be the miller — a well-abused 
 individual from the earliest ages. 
 
 But even these impurities are found to form only a 
 small part of the charges laid at the door of the master 
 baker. The journeyman has for years groaned under a 
 system of extreme labour calculated to break down the 
 strongest constitution. As a general rule he labours, 
 with shght intermissions of sleep, from eighteen to 
 twenty hours a day, but on Fridays he often works for 
 a day and a night together. This slavery, combined 
 with the unwholesome nature of the occupation, which 
 renders the baker^s trade one of the most unhealthy 
 trades in existence, led some short time since to the 
 men^s grievances being laid before Parliament, and to 
 the appointment of a Commission to inquire into the 
 condition of journeymen bakers and bakehouses gene- 
 rally. The Report of the Commissioner, Mr. Tremen- 
 heere, has been laid before Parliament, and now, in 
 the form of a Blue-book, has given us such a sickening 
 as we never experienced in crossing the Channel in 
 the roughest weather. 
 
 We do not, as an inspired writer says, ^^ive by 
 bread alone and, according to the Report, it is well 
 that we don^t. The corn comes out of the ground, 
 
THE BREAD WE EAT. 
 
 379 
 
 and the bread comes out of the ground — or^ at leasts 
 from a foetid basement^ — but the one is turned into 
 nutriment by the aid of the refuse of the animal body ; 
 would that we could say the same of the other ! There 
 are some subjects so disgusting that there is no excuse 
 for the bad taste that dwells upon them in the press ; 
 but we feel that the full force of public disgust is 
 required to reform our present system of bread- 
 making. Paterfamilias^ when he cuts the loaf for 
 breakfast on the Gothic wooden platter^ surrounded 
 by some highly spiritual motto^ is certainly not aware 
 of the physical impurity he is manipulating. But it is 
 well that he should know the whole truth at once^ for 
 the remedy lies in his own hands. It is scarcely 
 necessary to say that the art of bread-making has not 
 advanced in the least from the condition it was in 
 thousands of years ago. If the reader would verify 
 this assertion^ he has only to look at the process of 
 bread-making as represented on the Assyrian marbles 
 in the British Museum. We make the toys our chil- 
 dren play with^ the pins we use^ the pens we write 
 with — the smallest items^ in fact^ that are called for 
 by our civilization — by the most elaborate machinery ; 
 yet the bread we eat is made by the naked arm, the 
 rough hairy arm of the not over- clean workman. 
 
 Everybody knows the whereabouts of a London 
 bakehouse by the indescribable hot odour that comes 
 up the gratings ; but we are not all permitted to see 
 the den whence, issues the main food of the people. 
 We must, therefore, depend upon the descriptions of 
 Mr. Tremenheere. In all cases there is defective ven- 
 
380 
 
 THE BREAD WE EAT. 
 
 tilation ; in many cases the most polluted drains are 
 to be found in the bakehouse itself ; and as the ovens 
 are generally placed in the cellar under the pavement_, 
 the inevitable result is that the foul air in its draught 
 towards the fire is drawn over the dough while it is 
 being manipulated. In many bakehouses the heat^ 
 often at 90°^ causes the apartment to swarm with rats 
 and rnice^, beetles^ ants^ and even worse vermin ; and 
 its action on the human skin during prolonged exertion 
 may be imagined. Now^ the first process of bread- 
 making — the kneading process^ or making the 
 dough/^ as it is called_, — is a very laborious piece 
 of business. The kneading process is carried on 
 in a trough^ the dough having to be turned over 
 and over and thoroughly mixed with the bare arms. 
 If you can imagine^ good reader^ a person making 
 a bed at the bottom of a bath^ the bed being very 
 weighty^ and the operation being carried on for half 
 an hour in a temperature of 90°^ the person leaning 
 over the process the whole time^ the inevitable result 
 must be a copious perspiration which flows from the 
 face and arms and drops down into the dough — 
 plenty of it/^ as one of the witnesses says^— and 
 becomes incorporated with the bread. This sickening- 
 process is inseparable from the handicraft ; and we may 
 say^ without fear of contradiction^ that no loaf we eat^ 
 or that any one eats^ from the Queen to the beggar_, 
 is free from some admixture of this vile animal 
 impurity. But this is not all : one witness^ James 
 Beilly^ says_, After the dough is made the journey- 
 men first rub their arms out/^ — get off all the 
 
THE BREAD WE EAT. 
 
 381 
 
 dough they can by rubbings and using dry flour to 
 remove what adheres ; after that they wash off the 
 rest in a pail. If they are not looked after they will 
 throw this away; hut a careful master heejps it, and 
 compels them to use it in the next hatch, with the rest 
 of the water used in making the dough. Item^ 
 as old Pepys would say^ beware of the careful 
 master baker. 
 
 But these exudations of the human body are by no 
 means all the impurities the dough contracts whilst in 
 the process of being made into bread. After speaking 
 of the heavy festoons of cobwebs which hang from 
 the roofs of many bakehouses^ and which become 
 detached by a heavy blow on the floor above^ and 
 fall into the mixing trough_, the Commissioner goes 
 on to say^ Animals^ such as beetles^ ants_, and cock- 
 roaches^ in considerable numbers^ crawled in and out 
 of and upon the troughs where the bread was made^ 
 
 and upon the adjoining walls The smells from 
 
 the drains were very offensive^ the draught of the 
 oven continually drawing the effluvia through the 
 bakehouse. 
 
 On this point Dr. Ure says_, ‘^^If we reflect that 
 bread_, like all porous substances^ readily absorbs 
 the air that surrounds it_, and that even under the 
 best conditions it should never^ on that account^ be 
 kept in confined places_, what must be the state 
 of bread manufactured in the manner common in 
 London ? 
 
 What indeed ! This paragraph was written by 
 Dr. Ure many years agp, but still we have gone on 
 
382 
 
 THE BEEAD WE EAT. 
 
 eating oiir peck of dirt with a most praiseworthy 
 perseverance^ and in all probability should continue 
 to do so but for this Eeport^ and the fact that^ almost 
 simultaneously with its appearance^ mechanical science 
 has stepped in to remedy the evils it makes us 
 acquainted with. It is a fact that in most public 
 charities and establishments^ such as workhouses^ 
 blind asylums_, and orphan schools in the neighbour- 
 hood of the metropolis^ the inmates are supplied with 
 machine-made breads quite free from the disgusting 
 impurities with the details of which we fear we have 
 sickened our reader^ while at the same time the most 
 delicate and fastidious members of the community are 
 still depending upon the bakers^ bare arms for the 
 bread they daily eat. Mr. Stevens has now had for 
 some time a very effective machine for the making 
 of breads by which the whole operation is performed 
 without the aid of the hand at all. This is a very 
 useful apparatus^, and is made to suit the requirements 
 of both large and small bakers^ and even private 
 persons who love home-made bread. This machine, 
 however, is calculated to make fermented bread only 
 — food which strong stomachs can manage well 
 enough, but which those suffering from dyspepsia 
 cannot so conveniently digest. 
 
 The public are now pretty familiar with the 
 aerated bread, the invention of Dr. Dauglish. This 
 bread is also made by machine, it is not raised 
 by the ferment of yeast, but by the introduction 
 of carbonic acid gas into the dough whilst being 
 mixed in an exhausted receiver. The carbonic acid 
 
THE BREAD WE EAT. 
 
 383 
 
 gas in this manner becomes thoroughly incorporated 
 with the elements of the bread_, and as it issues from 
 the machine the gas gives it that highly vesicular 
 appearance on which its extreme lightness depends* 
 Flour^ salt^ and water are thus the only ingredients 
 to be found in the aerated bread. But the purity 
 of the loaf made by this process is not its only 
 recommendation to weak stomachs. The flour from 
 which it is made is prepared by an American process, 
 which removes the outer coat of the grain — a silicious 
 matter wholly indigestible — without injuring or re- 
 moving the internal coat, which is the most nutritious 
 part of the grain. By the ordinary method -of 
 grinding, this coat disappears with the bran, and 
 thus at least twenty per cent, of the value of the 
 wheat grain is lost. The flour, thus rich in what 
 is termed cerealine,^^ by the ordinary process of 
 bread-making, however, turns out a rather brownish 
 loaf, to which the public, as a rule, object, as it is 
 supposed to exert certain laxative qualities, after 
 the manner of the well-known brown bread. Now, 
 although this is an error (the peculiar properties of 
 the brown bread depending upon the silicious coat 
 which is retained in it, whilst it is rejected from this 
 new preparation), yet the public cannot be convinced, 
 and the invaluable process of unbranning wheat would 
 have been rejected but for the simultaneous invention 
 of the aerating machine which Dr. Dauglish has 
 brought before the public. The aerated loaf made 
 from this exceedingly rich flour having no fermenting 
 process to go through turns out a beautifully white 
 
384 
 
 THE BREAD WE EAT. 
 
 breads which is certainly the pleasantest^, whilst it is 
 the most nutritive^ of all kinds of food made from the 
 wheat grain. Some time since^ the aerated bread was 
 all made at the extensive steam bakery of Messrs. 
 Peek^ Frean^ & Co.^ at Dockhead^ Bermondsey. The 
 distance from the west-end consumers of the new 
 bakery made the difficulty and cost of distribution so 
 great^ that it was necessary to come to some other 
 arrangement. Consequently^ Dr. Dauglish^ instead 
 of concentrating his manufacture in one place,, deter- 
 mined to set up separate bakeries in different centres 
 of the town. Three bakeries of this description are 
 now at work — one at Islington,, one at Hackney^ 
 and one at Kennington Park^ and these will speedily 
 be followed by other establishments in different 
 quarters of the metropolis^ and thus the difficulty of 
 distribution^ which prevented many from procuring 
 the bread who really preferred it to all other^ will 
 be superseded. The complaint of the journeymen 
 bakers against the long hours of work^ and the foul 
 conditions under which they labour^ will be wholly 
 disposed of by the introduction of these bread-making 
 machines,, as the work which formerly employed the 
 men,, off and on^ for eighteen or twenty hours^ can 
 now be performed under two hours,, and in a 
 perfectly well- ventilated apartment ; thus affording 
 another instance of the value of machinery^ not 
 only by saving humanity much most offensive 
 drudgery^ but by eliminating those sources of 
 disease which so often sacrifice the life of the 
 workman to the necessities of our civilization. 
 
EXCURSION TRAINS. 
 
 As Excursion Trains have now as distinctly marked 
 a season as any of the sports and pastimes of the 
 people,, we may perhaps be permitted a few words 
 touching that development of the locomotive habits 
 of the age. Far be it from us to disparage in any 
 way that thorough ventilation of our population^ so 
 to speak^ which has been one of the most notable 
 results of the invention of railway-travelling. That 
 the people of this island were existing in a thorough 
 state of stagnation before Stephenson commenced 
 his transformation- scenes with the locomotive^ we 
 know too well ; and the experience of these last 
 twenty years has given ample proof of the effect 
 the Eail has had^ in breaking up the condition of 
 isolation in which every class but the very highest 
 was placed before that period. It would ill become 
 us^ therefore^ to speak ill-naturedly of excursion 
 trains,, which bring the advantages of this great 
 invention to the doors of the very lowest of the 
 artisan class. But we cannot help^ at the same 
 time,, seeing that some very grave disadvantages 
 accompany the present method of airing our holiday 
 
 2 c 
 
386 
 
 EXGUESION TEAINS. 
 
 people^ and of interchanging for the day our rural 
 and urban populations. 
 
 We may liken a railroad_, with its various branches 
 and the rolling stock at work upon them^ to one great 
 machine — the different trains forming as much a 
 portion of the instrument as the piston-rod forms a 
 portion of a steam-engine. The exactitude with 
 which these trains keep their time is also as essential 
 to the good order of the traffic as a whole^ as would 
 be the exactitude with which one of the driving- 
 wheels kept time with the other. This being the 
 case^ what shall we say to the temerity of Directors 
 who^ in working this delicate machine^ the combined 
 movements of which^ to insure the safety of its living 
 freight^ depend upon a clock-like regularity^ drop into 
 it with deliberate carelessness a disturbing element^ 
 the shock of which is felt throughout its entire frame- 
 work^ and which throws out the precision of time 
 so requisite for its safety? Is it not as foolish a 
 thing to do as it would be to drop a screw into the 
 works of a chronometer ? or rather^ is it not a far 
 more foolish thing? — for_, in the one case^ only deli- 
 cate workmanship is at stake^ in the other^ human 
 creatures^ lives. 
 
 Whenever the Directors of a railway start an excur- 
 sion train they commit this error. The time of the 
 regular traffic of the road is entirely thrown out for 
 the day ; and in many cases lives are jeopardized 
 where^ through the abrupt curves of the road or the 
 ill working of a switch^ this disturbing element makes 
 its appearance at distant parts of the line at unlooked- 
 
EXCURSION TRAINS. 
 
 387 
 
 for moments. It may be said tbat these excursion 
 trains should be made such regular irregularities^, that 
 their amount of disturbance would be a fixed quantity^ 
 to use a term of the physicist ; but all those who have 
 watched the manner in which these monster trains 
 are despatched^, and have noticed the habits of that 
 class of people who travel by them_, will at once 
 understand how hopeless it would be to attempt any 
 order or method in their despatch^ or to look for any 
 possibility of their starting by an appointed time. 
 In the first place^ the ofl&cials themselves seem wholly 
 incompetent to deal with the enormous pressure of 
 the crowd which the announcement of a cheap trip 
 calls to their platform. A sudden irruption of fifteen 
 hundred or two thousand people is met by the ordinary 
 staff at the station of departure ; and the consequence 
 is a most awful confusion^ which is increased into a 
 scene of yelling and fighting that would scarcely be 
 believed^ when the one clerk opens the one cheque- 
 taking window^ and the fight for tickets commences. 
 This want of all proper arrangement would in itself 
 be sufficient hopelessly to delay the departure of the 
 train at the appointed time^ were not that difficulty 
 further augmented by the amount of impedimenta that 
 the cheap trippers and excursionists invariably 
 carry. The chief mistake of women on these occasions 
 is in the number and the helplessness of the babies 
 with which^ by way of taking pleasm^e^ they encumber 
 themselves ; and the less amiable weakness of the 
 men is for four-gallon jars filled with beer. These^ 
 the more lively elements of enjoyment^ are placed in 
 2 c 2 
 
388 
 
 EXCUESION TEAINS. 
 
 the foreground ; but the solid food^ without which 
 the Briton of a certain class cannot move five miles 
 from his door_, is not wanting. The general state of 
 bewilderment^ also^ which appears to take possession 
 of the cheap-tripper the moment he puts foot into 
 the station_, together with the unwieldiness of his 
 belongings^ render him the most difficult animal to 
 embark that can well be conceived. But there is 
 yet another element of delay in excursion trains^ — the 
 difficulty the officials have in estimating the number of 
 riders they will have to provide room for^ — a difficulty 
 which is generally met by simply building up the train 
 to meet the requirements of the multitude pouring in 
 upon them. As this system of building up the train 
 is generally allowed to progress at a pace suited to 
 that of the most dilatory or the most baby-burthened 
 mother_, and as length seems to be of no account_, it 
 is not surprising that a monster excursion train often 
 starts as late as two hours after the appointed time ; 
 and when it finally draws its slow length along from 
 the platform^ it is seen that the people in this pleasure 
 excursion are designedly placed between an engine at 
 the tail of the train and two in front. Now let us 
 imagine the state of excitement which the passage of 
 such a train as this must cause ; the strain which is 
 put upon every station-master^ pointsman^ and guard_, 
 along a hundred and twenty miles of rail^ having to 
 provide against accidents to intermediate trains whilst 
 this excursion train is whizzing about the country at 
 no given time. Imagine fogs coming on (and the 
 foggy month of September is generally chosen for 
 
EXCURSION TRAINS. 
 
 389 
 
 excursions) ^ when signals are of no avail ; and then 
 consider if the chances of excursion trains coming in 
 collision with express trains^ which generally have to 
 pass them on the same line_, are less than passengers 
 on board steamers have of shipwrecks from icebergs 
 or the rocks of Cape Race ! Indeed^ it is to us aj 
 most extraordinary thing that^ with these excursion 
 trains flying across and athwart the island in every 
 direction^ we do not hear more of serious accidents to 
 railway travellers than we do. 
 
 But^ it may be asked_, cannot we in any way avoid 
 the causes of danger and disturbance which at present 
 render excursion trains such a nuisance to the ordi-^ 
 nary railway traveller? It seems to us that the- 
 difficulty of obtaining tickets may be obviated by 
 issuing them a day or two beforehand. Railway 
 companies may urge that this plan would not answer^^ 
 as holiday folks would like to make sure of a fine day 
 before investing their money in a ticket. If this 
 really be a valid objection^ the only way to meet it 
 would be to distribute the tickets when the carriages 
 were in motion. By so doing very much valuable 
 time would be saved^ and one element of danger would 
 be eliminated. It is quite clear that the system of 
 adding carriage after carriage to a train^ until it 
 attains a length which is unmanageable without the 
 aid of a locomotive to push behind as well as to pull^ 
 should be entirely prohibited. The multitude who 
 trust themselves to a train so propelled are placing 
 their lives between an upper and a nether millstone ; 
 and if a stop be not put to this most perilous method 
 
390 
 
 EXCUESION TEAINS. 
 
 of progression^, some catastrophe will inevitably 
 happen^ to which those we have already experienced 
 will be as nothing. It immediately suggests itself 
 that the difficulties attending these monster trains 
 may be avoided by breaking them up into two or 
 three trains ; but this would only be to multiply the 
 chances of danger^ unless the intervals between the 
 starting times were amply sufficient to prevent the 
 chance of their overtaking each other. But even 
 then the auxiliary aid of the telegraph would be 
 needed^ in order to insure the safe passage of a quick 
 succession of trains^ treading upon each other^s heels 
 as it were. The frightful accident that happened to 
 an excursion train on the Lynn and Hunstanton Bail- 
 way^ by which five persons were killed and five-and- 
 twenty more or less wounded^ was an example in point. 
 It appears that one of these excursion trains was started 
 a quarter of an hour only after the other ; the first train 
 passed a bullock on the line^ but the driver seemed 
 to take no notice of it ; at all events^ he did not 
 inform the station-master of the next station he 
 arrived at ; consequently no warning was given by 
 telegraph to the on-coming train. The result of this 
 was^ that a collision with the beast threw the carriages 
 off the line^ and unfortunately it was not in this case 
 the worse for the ^^coo^^ only^ as old Stephenson 
 predicted would be the case under such circumstances_, 
 but for the poor excursionists also. Perhaps^ after 
 all^ the most efficacious means of correcting the delays 
 and inconveniences that are caused by these excursion 
 trains^ which interfere so greatly with the ordinary 
 
EXCURSION TRAINS. 
 
 891 
 
 traffic of the line^ would be to make arrangements for 
 their being started at a separate platform and siding, 
 which should be provided at the railway terminus, 
 entirely independent of that used for the ordinary 
 traffic of the station, as well as for the employment of 
 a staff of clerks, police, and porters, who should be 
 specially told off for this particular work. If this were 
 done, and a sufficient telegraphic communication were 
 kept up between train and train, it seems to us that 
 the danger and the nuisance which confessedly arise 
 from the system of excursion trains would be very 
 much abated, though not perhaps entirely removed. 
 It is quite clear that, as things are at present managed, 
 Sunday excursion trains are by far safer than those 
 that run during the week, inasmuch as they have 
 the rails comparatively to themselves on that day. 
 And this, so far as we can see, is a very practical 
 argument against the entire abolition of those Sunday 
 excursion trains. 
 
EARLY WARNINGS. 
 
 The spirit of man is ever busy pushing his investiga- 
 tions farther and farther into the secret workings of 
 Nature — step by step he is tracking her into her inmost 
 recesses ; and if he despairs of ever reaching the final 
 cause of things^ he at least is rewarded by the ample 
 knowledge and subtle beauty he finds on the way. 
 Before the microscope was discovered^ what realms 
 lay unknown at his feet ! The mind has no micro- 
 scope^ it is true^ by which immaterial things can be 
 tracked upwards to their source; but its penetrative 
 powers grow vastly subtle by the habit of concentrating 
 them upon any particular study^ and the merest trifie 
 to the educated eye assumes proportions not to be 
 estimated by the superficial observer. We remember 
 hearing it said of the late Dr. Marshall Hall^ that he 
 could not bring his acute and persistent mind to bear 
 upon a gooseberry without finding out some fact and 
 deducing some great truth from it that had never 
 struck any person before. Of late years the science 
 of mind^ healthy and diseased^ has been placed^ as it 
 were^ in the field of the intellectual microscope^ and 
 since the appearance of Dr. Abercrombie^s Inquiries, 
 
EAELY WAENINGS. 
 
 393 
 
 Concerning the Intellectual Powers/^ which created 
 such a profound sensation thirty years ago^ numerous 
 investigators have been engaged in following up the 
 clue he placed in their hands. That there is an 
 immense amount of latent brain disease in the com- 
 munity^ only awaiting a sufficient exciting cause to 
 make itself patent to the worlds there can be no 
 manner of doubt. In the Annual Reports of our 
 Lunatic Asylums^ we see tables of the causes of the 
 insanity of the inmates^ which would lead the public 
 to believe that certain powerful emotions were sufficient 
 to disorganize the material instrument of thought : thus 
 we find love and religion figuring for a very large pro- 
 portion of the lunacy in our asylums^ whilst a fire^ a 
 quarrel with a friend^ are set down as the causes which 
 precipitate an individual from a state of sanity to 
 madness. We do not mean to say that any sound 
 psychologist imagines that these causes are any- 
 thing more than proximate ones^ but the public^ 
 and possibly medical men little versed in mental 
 alienation^ seem to think that a healthy mind can be 
 suddenly dethroned by some specific emotion^ just 
 as a healthy body may be suddenly prostrated by 
 fever. There is^ in fact_, no such thing as sudden 
 insanity^ or at least it is of the rarest possible occur- 
 rence. Coroners^ juries may imagine that a person 
 who has committed suicide became insane only at the 
 moment of inserting his neck in the fatal noose^ but 
 every one who has studied the human mind must be 
 aware that it is not constituted like a piece of cast- 
 iron^ which snaps suddenly under the influence of a 
 
394 
 
 EARLY WARNINGS. 
 
 sudden frost. The grey fabric of the brain^ before it 
 gives way^ always affords notable signs^ easily capable 
 of being read by an accomplished physician^ of a 
 departure from a state of health. 
 
 It often happens that impending lunacy is known to 
 individuals themselves long before any sign is made to 
 others. There is a terrible stage of consciousness^ in 
 which^ unknown to any other human beings an indi- 
 vidual keeps up^ as it were^ a terrible hand-to-hand 
 conflict with himself^ when he is prompted by an 
 inward voice to use disgusting words which in his 
 soul he loathes and abhors : these voices will some- 
 times suggest ideas which are diametrically opposed 
 to the sober dictates of his conscience. In such 
 conditions of mind prayers are turned into curses, 
 and the chastest into the most libidinous thoughts. 
 It does not necessarily follow, because a man is thus 
 haunted by another and evilly-disposed self, that he 
 has reached the stage of lunacy, if his reason still 
 retains the mastery. It is said that Bishop Butler 
 waged, for the greater part of his life, a hidden 
 warfare of this kind ; and yet no one ever suspected 
 him of unsoundness of mind. It is indeed strange 
 what wayward and erratic turns the mind wiU take 
 even in robust health. For instance, every one must 
 have felt the difficulty now and then of suppressing 
 the inclination to cry out in church, or to prevent the 
 rebellious muscles of the face from expressing a smile 
 on occasions when the utmost gravity of demeanour 
 is called for. Again, we are often haunted by an air 
 of music, or some voice will repeat itself with such 
 
EAELY WARNINGS. 
 
 395 
 
 obstinacy as to annoy and distress the mind^ and 
 often to prevent sleep. These curious phenomena 
 are not symptomatic of brain disease^ but they are 
 singular examples of transient conditions of mind, 
 which, when persistent, are clearly allied to insanity. 
 When, however, this persistence in morbid thoughts 
 does arise, a man may be sure that he requires the 
 attention of his physician, and that there is some 
 cause at work which is breeding mischief ; unless he 
 does this, the probability is that the malady will 
 take a more serious turn, and that the voices, before 
 believed to be internal ones, will appear external, and 
 lead the unhappy sufferer to desperate courses. 
 
 Possibly the stage of consciousness is the most 
 terrible of all the conditions of mind which lead the 
 way to insanity. The struggles with the inward fiend 
 which the reason finds that it cannot exorcise, must 
 be far more appalling than a condition of absolute 
 madness, in which very often the mental delusions are 
 of a pleasing character. 
 
 A patient, writing to Dr. Cheyne, says : Such a 
 
 state as mine you are possibly unacquainted with, 
 notwithstanding all your experience. I am not con- 
 scious of the decay or suspension of any of the powers 
 of my mind. I am as well able as ever I was to 
 attend to my business. My family suppose me in 
 health ; yet the horrors of a madhouse are staring me 
 in the face. I am a martyr to a species of persecution 
 from within which is becoming intolerable. I am 
 urged to say the most shocking things ; blasphemous 
 and obscene words are ever on my tongue. Hitherjto, 
 
396 
 
 EARLY WARNINGS. 
 
 thank God^ I have been able to resist; but I often 
 think I must yield at last^ and then I shall be dis- 
 graced for ever, and ruined.^^ Dr. Wigan gives an 
 account of a worthy but poor clergyman, who was 
 possessed, as it were, in this manner, when he was 
 suffering from over-study or want of rest. At these 
 times, when preaching, there would seem to be placed 
 before his eyes some profane book, which the devil 
 tempted him to read in lieu of his sermon. This was 
 a case where the brain was suffering from a want 
 of duly arterialized blood, as he found that violent 
 exercise with the dumb-bells effectually cast out the 
 fiend which tormented him. Exhaustion of nervous 
 power, over-work, anxiety, or other causes, is, we 
 believe, the spring of mental distress of this nature to 
 a much greater extent than the public apprehend. In 
 this age, when the race is neck-and-neck, and the 
 struggle for life is ever straining men^s minds to the 
 breaking-point ; when the boy has to go through an 
 examination for a clerkship of a more severe character 
 than was demanded for a university degree of old ; 
 when the professional man serves a seven years’ 
 apprenticeship to Science, and but too often a second 
 seven to Starvation, is it to be wondered at that the 
 mental fibre becomes weakened, and unable to resist 
 the strain of any great excitement or further process 
 of exhaustion? 
 
 It too often happens that the stage of consciousness 
 is allowed to progress unperceived — the unfortunate 
 sufferer concealing the agony that is eating into his 
 very soul with the utmost jealousy from the wife of 
 
EAELY WAENINGS. 
 
 397 
 
 Ms bosom_, and from Ms dearest friends. We have no 
 doubt in our own minds that innumerable acts which 
 appear totally unaccountable to friends and strangers 
 are the results of mental conflicts hidden in the depths 
 of the patient^s mind. In such cases the demon in 
 possession would seem to select those very moments 
 in which the enjoyment of other men is found : at the 
 festal boards in the moments of conversation with 
 friends^ in the company of ladies_, when everything is 
 couleur de rose, this conflict will sometimes rage the 
 fiercest^ and lead the would-be placid partaker of them 
 to sudden movements or fits of abstraction which 
 puzzle and confound those who watch his conduct. 
 And yet^ in the great majority of such cases^ medicine 
 (and by this term we use the phrase in its largest 
 sense_, such as change of scene and air_, and rest^ with 
 proper medicaments) is potent to exorcise the foul 
 fiend^ and to restore the sufferer to his usual mental 
 health. The dependence of the mind upon the body 
 is often proved in the most unmistakable manner in 
 such cases. A single prescription^ like the Abraca- 
 dabra of the Magician^ will convert the man on the 
 verge of insanity to his old serenity of mind. An 
 anecdote is told of Voltaire and an Englishman which 
 admirably illustrates the position. The conversation 
 between the two happening to turn upon the miseries 
 of life^ the ennui of the Frenchman and the spleen of the 
 Englishman both so far agreed that they decided that 
 existence was not worth having_, and they determined 
 to commit suicide together on the following morning. 
 The Englishman punctually arrived^ provided with the 
 
398 
 
 EAELY WAENINGS. 
 
 means of destruction^, but tbe Frencbman appeared to 
 be no longer in tbe suicidal mood; for^ on tbe other 
 proceeding to the execution of their project^ Voltaire 
 amusingly interposed^ Pardonnez moi^ monsieur^ 
 mais mon lavement a tres-bien opere ce matin^ et cela 
 a change toutes idees la/^ 
 
 Feuchlersleben^ in his Mental Physiology/^ has 
 very subtly said^ that if we could penetrate into the 
 secret foundations of human events^ we should fre- 
 quently find the misfortunes '.of one man caused by the 
 intestines of another ! This may appear a phantastic 
 proposition on the part of the learned German ; but 
 do we not^ as men of the world_, act upon the know- 
 ledge of this fact every day of our lives ? Who would 
 be fool enough to ask a man a favour whilst he was 
 waiting for his dinner ? The irritation Paterfamilias 
 labours under during these few minutes is clearly 
 attributable to an impoverished condition of the blood ; 
 it is^ in fact^ a fleeting attack of that temper-disease 
 which Dr. Marshall Hall has proved is an abiding 
 condition of some persons — particularly among the 
 female sex. How many professional men^ wearied all 
 day by press of business^, their blood poisoned by 
 sitting for hours in the dark stagnant air of city 
 chambers^ will resume their work after dinner^, and 
 even prolong it into the night ? How many clergy- 
 men_, ambitious of distinction in the pulpit_, will 
 exhaust their brain by the incessant manufacture of 
 bad sermons ? Happy the man who retires behind his 
 bandanna^ and aids digestion and refreshes his brain 
 by the legitimate forty winks. No man after middle 
 
EARLY WARNINGS. 
 
 399 
 
 age^ if he hopes to keep his mind clear^ should think of 
 working his brain after dinner/ a season which should 
 be given up to enjoyment. The immediate result of 
 post-prandial labour is always inferior to that pro- 
 duced by the vigorous brain of the morning. When 
 mental labour has become a habit^ however_, we know 
 how weak are the words of warning to make a 
 sufferer desist ; and we are reminded of the answer 
 made by Sir Walter Scott to his physicians^ who^ in 
 his last illness^ foresaw that his mind would break 
 down unless he desisted from brain- work. As for 
 bidding me not work/*’ said he_, sadly, Molly might 
 as well put the kettle on the fire, and then say, 
 
 ^ NoWy donH hoilJ 
 
 It must not be supposed, however, that we wish to 
 deprecate even severe mental labour; on the con- 
 trary, a well- organized brain demands exercise, and, 
 like the blacksmiths arms, flourishes on it. We 
 believe that pleasurable productive brain-work can be 
 carried on to an almost limitless extent without 
 injury. A poet in the full swing of his fancy, a 
 philosopher working out some scheme for the benefit 
 of humanity, refreshes rather than weakens his brain. 
 It will be found that the great majority of those who 
 have gained high honours in our universities have also 
 distinguished themselves greatly in after-life. It is 
 the hard, thankless task-work which tears and frets the 
 fine grey matter of the cerebrum ; it is the strain and 
 anxiety which accompanies the working-out of great 
 monetary transactions which produces that silent 
 and terrible ramollissement which gradually saps the 
 
400 
 
 EAELY WAENINGS. 
 
 mind of the strong man^ and reduces him to the 
 condition of an imbecile. 
 
 When we warn the reader to take notice of early 
 warnings^,^^ it matters not whether the symptoms 
 are those which lead to the entire destruction of the 
 motive force^ and the obliteration of his powers of 
 action_, or whether it takes the road to the mere 
 derangement of the moral and intellectual capabilities; 
 if allowed to proceed unchallenged^ they lead alike 
 to the destruction of the individual as a free agent. 
 They are equally brain diseases^ for the old idea that 
 there is such a thing as derangement of mind without 
 any lesion of the instrument of thought^ has long 
 been exploded. This idea probably arose from the 
 fact that^ in the vast majority of the brains of the 
 insane^ when examined after deaths there was no ap- 
 preciable sign of change — nay^ the brain has suffered 
 very severe injuries and yet been followed by no 
 symptom of mental disturbance. The changes that 
 take place physically are of too delicate a nature for 
 our science to reach in its present condition; but 
 there seems to be no doubt that all abnormal mental 
 phenomena depend upon some unhealthy state of the 
 blood. Polished steel is not quicker dimmed by the 
 slightest breath than is the brain affected by some 
 abnormal condition of the vital fluid. In the horrible 
 phantoms simulating the thoughts of the insane^ 
 which haunt us in nightmare, we have a familiar 
 example of the manner in which an over-loaded 
 stomach will disturb the mind ; in the ravings of the 
 insane consequent upon the drinking of salt-water in 
 
EAELY WARNINGS. 
 
 401 
 
 cases of shipwreck ; in the temporary effect produced 
 upon the temper by waiting for dinner ; and^ finally^ 
 in the delirium attending fevers and drinkings we 
 have other and equally well-known causes of mental 
 disturbance inevitably following the absorption of 
 some poison into the bloody or of the starving it of its 
 proper nutritive constituents. 
 
 The more the fact of the physical nature of insanity 
 is acknowledged — the more it is recognized as an 
 ailment which can be reached by physical agents — • 
 the greater will be its chance of successful treatment. 
 If a man shivers and feels depressed^ he seeks his 
 physician^ that he might meet the coming fever with 
 the best resources of his art. If a man feels his 
 brain disturbed — if he feels the early warnings 
 of which his friends as yet know nothing — would it 
 not be equally wise of him to summon the aid of 
 medicine before it is too late? Insanity taken in 
 its earliest stage^ is more easily cured than many 
 diseases which a man passes through without any 
 great fear ; for instance^ we question if pneumonia is 
 not far less curable than simple insanity that is not 
 hereditary. If such a mystery were not made of 
 mental disease^ it would be deprived of half its terrors 
 and of half its evil consequences at the same time. 
 
 Whilst we should be keenly alive to the first 
 symptoms of a departure from an ordinary state of 
 mind or habit^ it must not be supposed that we see a 
 madman in every individual who thinks for himself or 
 acts in a manner different from his neighbours. We 
 wish to drag no garden-roller^ as it were^ over 
 
 2 D 
 
402 
 
 EARLY WARNINGS. 
 
 character^ and to declare that any person who goes 
 out of the general dead-level is to be suspected of 
 being what is popularly called touched.*^^ There 
 are naturally crooked sticks as well as straight ones. 
 If, however^, a man habitually of an eccentric turn of 
 mind were to become all at once like other people, 
 and remained so, we should feel certain that some 
 mental mischief was brewing. It is the sustained 
 departure from a normal condition of mind and mode 
 of life which should cause a grave suspicion of 
 impending insanity. When we find a modest man 
 become boastful and presumptuous, — a lover of truth 
 transmuted into an habitual liar, — a person of known 
 probity condescending to petty thefts, — a humane 
 individual suddenly turned cruel, — and a cautious man 
 wild, reckless, and extravagant, — then we may be 
 sure that there is mental disturbance of a very grave 
 character. The reasoning power may remain clear, 
 and the intellect as bright as ever, and in the course 
 of a long conversation friends may not perceive the 
 slightest cloud upon the understanding. Nevertheless, 
 the reader may be certain that these deviations of the 
 moral sentiments are the switch-points which indicate 
 the fact that the mind is leaving the main line, and that, 
 if left to itself, it will speedily career to destruction. 
 It sometimes happens that such changes of mind take 
 place without their being made apparent even to the 
 nearest friends ; and that some trivial conversation or 
 circumstance having led to a suspicion of mental un- 
 soundness, upon inquiry it has been discovered that the 
 individual has already half-ruined himself. Esquu*el 
 
EARLY WARNINGS. 
 
 403 
 
 mentions a case of this kind^ the subject of which was 
 a merchant of considerable position and fortune^ 
 whose hidden alienation of mind was brought to light 
 by his having purchased at a high price some very 
 inferior pictures ; a dispute respecting their value 
 thereupon arising with his children^ he flew into a 
 passion^ and his insanity became evident. His chil- 
 dren^ alarmed at his condition^ looked into his affairs^ 
 when they were found to be utterly in disorder^ and 
 full of blanks. This irregularity had existed for six 
 months^ and had there been no discussion respecting 
 the pictures^ leading to the discovery of the state of 
 his mind^ one of the most honourable mercantile 
 houses in France would have been seriously com- 
 promised^ for a bill of exchange of a considerable 
 amount had become due^ and no means had been 
 taken to provide for its payment. 
 
 The latent seeds of insanity very often become 
 knovm to the world through unusual physical signs. 
 Muscular agitation succeeds to the ordinary repose of 
 the individual. The man whose manner in a state of 
 health is grave and gentle,, suddenly puts on a brus- 
 query which astonishes his friends. It would seem as 
 though he sought to stifle his agonizing thoughts by 
 the exhaustion of his physical strength. ^^In this 
 state/^ says Dr. Winslow^ the patient resembles a 
 ferocious animal removed from his native forest and 
 confined in a cage. He paces and repaces the room,, 
 night and day^ in a condition of extreme perturbation, 
 rarely sitting or standing in a state of repose for 
 many consecutive minutes. He suddenly starts from 
 2 D 2 
 
404 
 
 EARLY WARNINGS. 
 
 Iiome^, being tormented by a peevish^ irresistible rest- 
 lessness — a constant^, unwearied^ never-satisfied desire 
 for change ; walkings nnfatigued^ long distances^ with 
 great apparent fixedness of purpose and accompanying 
 vehemence of gesture^ Vvdthout having in view a sane 
 or rational object. These rapid strides^ forced and 
 ^dolent movements^ appear to originate in an instinc- 
 tive desire to throw off a morbid accumulation of 
 
 muscular force In vain the unhappy man 
 
 struggles to obtain peace of mind by yielding to an 
 irresistible and uncontrollable desire to rush almost 
 unceasingly from place to place. Fruitless are his 
 endeavours to arrest the creation of the morbid^ 
 gloomy imagery desolating and bewildering his 
 thoughts. . . . Alas ! he cannot fly from himself.^^ 
 But these are the more prominent warnings of 
 coming trouble which cannot well be overlooked. 
 The symptoms we wish to draw attention to are those 
 slight deviations from a normal condition which are 
 but rarely observed either by the sufferers themselves 
 or their friends. One of the most constant and 
 characteristic is a debilitated power of attention. 
 Possibly_, the most comprehensive definition of genius 
 is the power of concentrating and prolonging the 
 attention upon any one given subject. It is the 
 quality of the mind which raises one man above 
 another_, and it is the parent of all creations and of 
 most discoveries ; and^ we may add_, it is the morbid 
 excess and indulgence of this quality which leads 
 sometimes to mental disease : hence the common 
 vobservation that genius and madness are only divided 
 
EARLY WARNINGS. 
 
 by a very tliin partition. The difference^ says Sir 
 William Hamilton_, between an ordinary mind and the 
 mind of Newton^, consists principally in this^ — that the 
 one is capable of a more continuous application than 
 the other ; that a Newton is able_, without fatigue^ te 
 connect inference with inference^ in one long series 
 towards a determined end^ while the man of inferior 
 capacity is soon obliged to break, or let fall, the thread 
 which he had begun to spin. This is, in fact, what 
 Sir Isaac Newton, with equal modesty and shrewdness, 
 himself admitted. To one who complimented him 
 on his genius, he replied, that if he had made any 
 discoveries it was owing more to patient attention 
 than to any other talent. There is, however, a certain, 
 morbid attention, w^hen directed towards supposed 
 ailments of the body and mind, which is to be espe- 
 cially deprecated. A man may so concentrate hi3> 
 attention on certain organs of the body as to produce 
 disease in them. The hypochondriac, for instance,, 
 never ceases to dwell upon the condition of his diges- 
 tive organs, and the consequence in the end is that he 
 directs so much nervous energy to the spot as to cause 
 congestion and actual disease. We see no reason to 
 doubt that mere disordered functions of the brain may 
 be converted by the same undue attention into positive 
 disorganization. Hence, over- studiousness on these 
 points is to be avoided. We have no fear that in the 
 great majority of cases there is any danger of such a 
 result ; but in persons of a highly nervous tempera^ 
 ment it is different, and with them the very first step 
 towards health would be to enable them to get rid of 
 
40G 
 
 EAELY WAENINGS. 
 
 themselves. Of a very different nature to this exalta- 
 tion of the faculty of attention is the exaggeration 
 which often takes place of the special functions of 
 sense. The approach of brain disease is often heralded 
 by the most marvellous exaltation of sights smelly 
 taste^ and hearing. Dr. Elliotson mentions a patient 
 who^ previous to an attack of hemiplegia^ felt such an 
 extraordinary acuteness of hearings that he heard the 
 least sound at the bottom of his house. The vision 
 was also exaggerated to that degree that he could tell 
 the hour by a watch placed on a table at such a dis- 
 tance as would_, in a state of healthy have precluded 
 his even distinguishing the hands. In another case^ a 
 gentleman^ previous to an attack of inflammation of 
 the brain^ remarked to his son that he could hear a 
 conversation that was taking place in a distant part of 
 the house^ when those around him could not even 
 distinguish voices. The sense of smell is often equally 
 increased in force^ and the slightest odours are exagge- 
 rated into the most disgusting smells. In this condi- 
 tion of brain the avenues by which the outward world is 
 brought in connection with the inward man are thrown 
 open so widely that it would seem as though the 
 unhappy person projected his special organs of sense 
 outward until they absolutely came in contact with 
 the objects or manifestations submitted to them. A 
 more distressing condition it would be difficult to 
 imagine^ or one which more clearly points to an 
 inflammatory state of the brain. ^^In the incipient 
 stages of the various forms of cerebral disease/^ 
 says Dr. Winslow^ the sensibility is not only 
 
EASLY WARNINGS. 
 
 407 
 
 lieiglitened^ impaired^ and paralyzed^ but it shows 
 marked evidence of being vitiated. The patient com- 
 plains of the existence of pricking sensations in 
 various parts of the body^ as well as of the existence 
 of formication^ particularly at the extremities of the 
 fingers and toes. For some time previously to the 
 development of well-marked symptoms of cerebral 
 disease^ a patient remarked that everything he touched 
 was extremely cold. In some cases a gritty body^ like 
 that of sand^ and a piece of cloth appeared to be inter- 
 posed between the patienFs fingers and whatever they 
 came in contact with. Other invalids have affirmed 
 that whatever they touched felt like a piece of velvet. 
 Andral noticed this phenomenon. Six weeks before a 
 paralytic attack^ a patient complained of one-half of 
 the scalp feeling like a piece of leather. In the case 
 of a gentleman who died of apoplexy_, there was for 
 some time previously to his illness a feeling in both 
 hands as if the skin were covered with minute and 
 irritating particles of dust or sand. He repeatedly 
 complained of this symptom^ and was frequently 
 observed to wash his hands_, with the view of remov- 
 ing the imaginary annoyance. Impoverishment of 
 sensibility in the arms_, preceded first by a feeling of 
 intense cold in the part^ and subsequently of numb- 
 ness^ followed this perverted state of sensation. In 
 another case_, some time prior to a paralytic seizure^ 
 the patient imagined that he had extraneous particles 
 of dirt and stones in his boots_, or inside his stockings^, 
 irritating his feet^ and interfering with his personal 
 comfort as well as freedom of locomotion. This per- 
 
408 
 
 EAKLY WAENINGS. 
 
 verted state of sensation was observed for two months 
 previously to his attack of acute cerebral disorder/^ 
 A patient under my own care^ suffering under symp- 
 toms of brain disease^ fancied everything he touched 
 was covered with grease^ to get rid of which he was 
 incessantly washing his hands ; indeed^ his whole body^ 
 according to his own account_, was contaminated in 
 the same manner^ and in order to cleanse himself he 
 was always taking baths. In fact^ he lived in cold 
 water^ and yet always protested that he was as greasy 
 as ever. Ultimately this gentleman was obliged to 
 give up his appointment^ and is now quite incapaci- 
 tated for any employment. 
 
 To those unaccustomed to read the subtle indications 
 by which the brain gives its warnings^ these trifles 
 light as air may seem to be of too trivial a nature to 
 warrant the interposition of medicine^ and those who 
 venture to draw attention to them are liable to ridicule. 
 On the occasion of the discussion on the Lunacy 
 Amendment Bill not long since^ the Lord Chancellor 
 remarked the tendency of medical men to intrude 
 their theories respecting insanity when acting as 
 witnesses in the law courts. In confirmation of this 
 opinion he read from Dr. Bucknill and Tuke^s Psy- 
 chological Medicine a passage which spoke of a 
 shrivelled ear^^ as being symptomatic of a certain 
 mental condition. Now^ curiously enough^ this 
 
 shrivelled ear^^ and bristling hair/^ which their 
 lordships laughed at so immoderately, is a most 
 undoubted sign of chronic dementia. 
 
 The premonitions of epileptic attacks are but too 
 
EARLY WARNINGS. 
 
 409 
 
 well known to requii’e attention at our hands^, and 
 tkey are at the same time so varying in their character 
 as to preclude the reliance upon any one warning 
 symptom. Herein the patient must minister to 
 himself.^^ But the community is not aware that 
 epileptic attacks may go on for years without dis- 
 covering themselves either to the individual or to 
 his friends or medical man. In children^ especially^ 
 attacks sometimes come on in the nighty and pass 
 away without leaving any sign. Dr. Marshall Hall 
 has done lasting service by drawing the attention of 
 the public to this obscure form of a well-known 
 disease_, and the nursery is thus supplied with a hint 
 of great use to the rising generation. These hidden 
 seizures^ however^ sometimes take place in after-life ; 
 and the slightly bitten tongue^ often so slightly 
 indented that it is scarcely perceptible^ is the only 
 indication that a symptom of approaching brain 
 disease of a severe type has visited the individual 
 in his sleep. Strange as it may appear^ however^ 
 the most marked and terrible seizures are sometimes 
 mistaken by persons suffering them for the visitations 
 of preternatural agents. Dr. Gregory^ of Edinburgh^, 
 used to give a case of this kind in his lectures which 
 is so curious that we shall here relate it. One of his 
 patients told him that he was in the habit of dining 
 every day at six^ but that he was plagued with a 
 visitor at that hour^ who always greatly distressed 
 him. Exactly as the horn." struck^ the door opened^ 
 and an old hag entered with a frowning countenance_, 
 and^ with every demonstration of spite and hate^ 
 
410 
 
 EARLY WARNINGS. 
 
 rushed upon him and struck him a severe blow upon 
 the head^ which caused him to swoon for a time of 
 a longer or shorter duration. This apparition^ he 
 asserted^ was of daily occurrence. Dr. Gregory^ 
 guessing that some mental delusion was at the 
 bottom of this singular attack^ invited himself to 
 dinner with his friend_, addings We will see if 
 your malignant old woman will venture to join our 
 company.-^^ The gentleman gladly accepted the pro- 
 posal^ expecting^ however^ the doctor^s ridicule rather 
 than his sympathy. When the dinner arrived^, the 
 doctor exerted his powers of conversation^ which 
 were of a very brilliant character^, in the hope of 
 diverting his friend^ s attention from the thoughts of 
 the approaching visits supposing that he was suffering 
 from some nervous attack^ and he so far succeeded 
 that the hour of six came almost unnoticed^, and he 
 was hoping that the dinner would pass without the 
 unwelcome interruption. The clock had scarcely 
 struck^ however^ when the gentleman exclaimed sud- 
 denly in an alarmed voice^ ^^The hag comes again 
 and dropped back in his chair in a swoon^ in the 
 way he had described. These periodical attacks were 
 clearly traced to sudden head seizures^ which gave 
 way to the appropriate remedies. 
 
 Whilst an exaltation of the faculty of attention 
 points to insanity^ the growing deficiency of it points 
 as certainly to a coming imbecility^ and especially of 
 an impending attack of softening of the brain — that 
 terrible affliction which may be termed the stock- 
 brokers^ disease^ so liable do the habitues of Oapel 
 
EARLY WAKINGS. 
 
 411 
 
 Court seem to its visitations. The first beginnings 
 of this disease very often come upon a man in the 
 height of his prosperity^ and its approach is so 
 insidious that^ although he may be walking about 
 and transacting his business^ this fatal rot may have 
 already commenced. As in the Vision of Mirza/^ a 
 passenger is every now and then missed from the 
 ever ebbing and flowing stream of life^ and none but 
 the physician notes that he has dropped through the 
 pitfall on the bridge^ and will never mix in the busy 
 haunts of man again. 
 
 Dr. Winslow^ in a few graphic touches_, thus paints 
 the onset of this sad condition : In the incipient 
 stage of cerebral softenings as well as in those organic 
 disintegrations of the delicate nerve vesicle observed 
 in what is termed progressive^ generals and cerebral 
 paralysiSs the patient often exhibits a debility of 
 memory (long before disease of the brain is sus- 
 pected) in regard to the most ordinary and trifling 
 matters connected with the every-day affairs of life. 
 He forgets his appointmentSs is oblivious of the names 
 of his most intimate friendSs mislays his bookSs loses 
 his paperSs and is unable to retain in his mental grip 
 for many consecutive minutes the name of the month 
 or the day of the week. He sits down to write a 
 letter on some matter of business^ and the attention 
 being for a moment diverted from what he is engaged 
 in^ he immediately loses all recollection of his cor- 
 respondence^ and leaves the letter unfinished. In 
 this condition of mind he will be heard constantly 
 inquiring for articles that he had carefully put aside 
 
412 
 
 EARLY WARNINGS. 
 
 but a few minutes previously.^^ The Handwriting will 
 often afford very conclusive proof of tHe failing mind 
 of the writer^., and we may quote that of a gentle- 
 man^ whose case came under our own notice^ whose 
 correspondence thus betrayed him. On his being 
 removed from business^ it was discovered that for some 
 time previously to any disease of the brain being sus- 
 pected, his letters were found to be full of erasures, 
 words misspelt, and calculations remarkable for their 
 inaccuracy. At times, there was a recovery for a 
 period of a week or so from these inaccuracies, which 
 were altogether foreign to the nature of the gentleman 
 when in a sound state of health. These temporary 
 recoveries, however, were always followed by the 
 blundering we have noticed, and he ultimately died 
 of softening of the brain. 
 
 We are inclined to think that the sign of cerebral 
 softening most to be dreaded is the want of power 
 to fix the attention. A person might suffer from 
 temporary loss of memory from very slight causes ; 
 such, for example, as exhaustion. Sir Henry Hol- 
 land, in his very interesting Mental Pathology,^^ 
 tell us that, having descended two deep mines in 
 the Hartz Mountains, and having undergone much 
 exertion without food, he found himself suddenly 
 deprived for a short time of his memory, which re- 
 turned again immediately after taking food and wine. 
 A copious draught of wine will often restore these 
 momentary fits of loss of memory, which are depen- 
 dent upon no organic disease, but arise from a want 
 of proper circulation in the brain. We all know. 
 
EAELY WAENINGS. 
 
 413 
 
 wlien we have forgotten a particular name> or things 
 the pertinacity with which it seems to recede farther 
 from the memory_, the more we try to recall it to mind 
 — it remains upon the tip of the tongue^ but will not 
 come forth. These are familiar examples of transient 
 loss of memory^ which only prove how often the 
 healthiest brain is for a moment plagued with 
 momentary symptoms of no account which^ when 
 persistent^ are the invariable precursors of serious 
 brain disease. There are certain significant^ although 
 but slightly-marked^ signs of softening which tell 
 clearly to the eye of the practised physician the 
 approach of the disintegration of the cerebral matter. 
 The trained eye will observe a loss of muscular 
 power ; the patient will slip on one side ; the leg is 
 put forward with great premeditation ; volition ceases 
 to act unconsciously ; certain acts are performed 
 as though the sufferer were pulling the wires of a 
 doll j the hand cannot grasp with a healthy grip. 
 A minute degree of facial paralysis will sometimes 
 disturb the wonted expression of the countenance^ 
 without even friends knowing the cause. A very 
 slight elevation of one eyebrow^ a drawing aside of 
 the mouth a hair^s-breadth^ will materially alter the 
 look of a person; and paralysis of this kind often 
 exists without any one suspecting that softening 
 of the brain is impending. This partial paralysis_, 
 which is indicative of approaching apoplexy^ very 
 often shows itself in a personas speech. When we 
 remember the number of muscles which must co-ordi- 
 nate to enable a man to articulate^ it will be readily 
 
414 
 
 EARLY WARNINGS. 
 
 understood tliat any loss of power in these delicate 
 muscles must show itself in the speech. It often 
 happens that the first sign will be a clipping of the 
 Queen^s English ; the person will speak as though 
 he were drunk; indeed_, drunkenness does produce 
 the very temporary paralysis we allude to. 
 
 A still more singular sign of softenings and the 
 apoplexy which results^ is the odd way in which 
 persons in this condition will transpose their words. 
 Dr. Beddoes mentions the case of a gentleman who^ 
 previous to an attack of brain disease^ used to commit 
 laughable blunders of this kind : for instances he 
 would says Everybody feels very languid this loet 
 weather — I mean this hot weather ; ors Comes who 
 vfill sit down to supper ? Here is cold meat and 
 pudding — I mean pieJ^ Undiscovered and partial 
 paralysis is the cause sometimes of odd mistakes. 
 ThuSs a gentleman angrily demanded of his servants 
 whilst at dinners why he had brought him a broken 
 wine-glass. The servants on examining its affirmed 
 it was a sound one. The master again scolded him ; 
 but on inspecting it himselfs found it to be really un- 
 broken. The explanation of this circumstance was that 
 the gentleman had suddenly been seized with paralysis 
 of the nerves of sensation of one side of the lip; 
 consequentlys as there was no feeling there within 
 a certain circumscribed spaces naturally concludeds 
 without lookings that a piece of glass had been broken 
 away. In other caseSs a person will declare that his 
 finger feels like a sausage. Early warningSs theses 
 that should not be neglected for one moment. 
 
EARLY WARNINGS. 
 
 415 
 
 The sights also^ gives warnings that are equally 
 unmistakable to the physician of coming trouble^ and 
 more especially the dread symptoms of double vision. 
 Dr. Gregory tells a curious and highly instructive tale 
 of a sportsman^ who_, when out shooting one day with 
 his gamekeeper^ complained of his bringing out so 
 many dogs — asking why he required eight dogs. 
 The servant said there were only four ; but his master 
 persisted that there were double that number. Con- 
 vinced_, however_, of his mistake^ probably by the 
 touch, he immediately became aware of his condition^ 
 mounted his horse, and rode home ; and had not long 
 been there, before he was attacked with apoplexy, and 
 died. Had this gentleman been treated on the field, 
 when the warning was first given, in all probability 
 he would have been saved. 
 
 It is not very easy to distinguish softening 6f the 
 brain from another malady which is equally terrible. 
 We allude to the general paralysis of the insane. 
 Indeed, the latter disease is very often but a result 
 of the other. In some cases, however, it is recog- 
 nized as a substantive malady. Dr. Winslow says 
 he has seen symptoms of it impending for many years 
 before it has unmistakably shown itself, or at least 
 the altered mental condition of the individual has 
 clearly been seen — read by the light of the subsequent 
 event. For a long period,^^ he observes, before 
 any mental disorder is generally suspected, the ideas 
 are noticed to be of an absurd and extravagant 
 character. The patient talks of the amount of money 
 he has made, of the success of his commercial specu- 
 
416 
 
 EAELY WAENINGS. 
 
 lations^ liis grand prospects, extraordinary luck, and of 
 the bright future in store for himself and family. He 
 magnifies the amount of his daily or weekly receipts, 
 whether realized in the practice of his profession, in 
 trade, or commerce. I have known this tendency 
 simply to distort facts and look extravagantly at the 
 bright side of things through an intensely magnified 
 and highly coloured, because morbid, medium (when 
 the actual circumstances of the party did not in the 
 slightest degree justify such sanguine ideas), to exist 
 for five or even ten years before the mind presented 
 any decided and recognized symptoms of alienation. 
 
 As the paralysis slowly commences, the sufferer will 
 be observed to speak with a slow and measured 
 intonation, as if he selected his phrases with the 
 utmost care. Sometimes, indeed, the lips open and 
 shut as if trying to speak without the ability to do so ; 
 assuming the action of the lips in smoking a pipe. 
 Hence the French designate it le maladefiime la pipe. 
 The aspect of the face also becomes changed, the 
 mouth opens and shuts in one piece, as Dr. Skae 
 observes, without any play of the lips indicative of the 
 sentiments or passions. From this point the whole 
 powers of the man, physical and mental, seem gradu- 
 ally to fade away — every power of life is, by the 
 gentlest possible gradation, lost ; even those refiex 
 actions which preside, as it were, over so many func- 
 tions of the body, die; and it often happens that a 
 patient is suddenly choked by the passage of food 
 down the windpipe instead of the gullet — the epiglot- 
 tis, that sensitive lid which, in a state of health, so 
 
EARLY WARNINGS. 
 
 417 
 
 jealously closes and guards the air passage^ being 
 paralyzed^ and standing open^ as if it were to invite 
 the dissolution of the body^ thus reduced to a 
 living death. 
 
 The injurious effects of blows upon the head are not 
 sufficiently considered^ for the reason that in many 
 cases they do not show themselves for years. Where 
 any serious concussions of this kind have taken place^ 
 the individual receiving them should always beware 
 of the first signs of distress in the brain. Numberless 
 cases are on record in which a fatal termination has 
 ensued from a blow on the head received years pre- 
 viously. A sailor fell from the mainyard of a ship 
 upon deck^ and was removed below in a state of 
 unconsciousness. He speedily recovered his senses^ 
 however^ and in a fortnight resumed his work. No 
 bad symptoms occurred for four years_, after which ho 
 was occasionally attacked with headache^ and twentj^- 
 six years afterwards he became paralytic^ in which 
 state he continued for eight weeks^ when he died^ and 
 on examination it was discovered that a large abscess 
 existed in his brain. In another case^ a boy received 
 a violent blow on the head from a cricket-bat^ from 
 vfhich he did not suffer any inconvenience for ten or 
 eleven years^ when he became liable to attacks of 
 headache of a severe nature ; epileptic seizures fol- 
 lowed^ and he ultimately died^ when an encysted 
 abscess_, of the size of an egg^, was found in tho 
 cerebrum. Whilst afterclaps of this kind may always 
 be looked for when any serious injury to the head has 
 arisen from blows or other causes^ it does not always 
 
 2 E 
 
418 
 
 EAKLY WARNINGS. 
 
 follow that the presence of abscess^ even in the sub- 
 stance of the brain^ is accompanied by any serious 
 symptoms. Dr. Wollaston^ who lived to a good age_, 
 did his philosophical brain-work with a tumour in his 
 cerebrum which must^ from its size and nature^ have 
 existed there many years before his death ; and the 
 most serious injuries to the convolutions of the brain 
 have been received without causing much mental dis- 
 turbance to the individual. These are_, however^ rare 
 cases^ much cherished in the records of brain disease 
 rather as curiosities than as tending to serve any 
 practical scientific purpose ; and^ as a general rule^ it 
 must be considered that no lesion of the cerebrum can 
 take place without its showing itself outwardly in the 
 most unmistakable manner. 
 
 If there is any terror in the pictures we have 
 painted, let it not be supposed that our object has 
 been gratuitously to conjure up revolting images for 
 the mere sake of playing upon the feelings of the 
 reader. If the first beginnings of brain disease were 
 generally known and acted upon, the examples we 
 have quoted of the deplorable condition to which 
 human life is sometimes reduced by its unchecked 
 progress, would be greatly diminished. 
 
 The slightest settlement in a wall is watched day 
 by day by the architect with the greatest anxiety and 
 solicitude, and every precaution is taken to strengthen 
 the weak place, and to relieve it of all unnecessary 
 weight ; and many a stately building has thus been 
 preserved for ages, through the timely substitution of 
 a few sound for unsound stones. Oh ! that we 
 
EARLY WARNINGS. 
 
 419 
 
 watched with half the care the delicate human brain_, — - 
 source of mental thought^ — as we do this senseless wall^ 
 — that we took note of the faint rents and sinkings of 
 the organ of the mind with as much anxiety as we 
 watch perishable stone ; many a noble understanding 
 would then be preserved to us that otherwise becomes 
 torn and shattered^ hopelessly beyond the restorative 
 powers of man. 
 
 E 
 
 O 
 
 o 
 
/ 
 
 1 
 
 \ 
 
 n 
 
 
POEMS. 
 
 A GAEDEN SCENE. 
 
 How the great sun is shining on the slope 
 Of strawberry-roots ! Ah ! there^s my pet^ 
 Running her white hands under the cool leaves^ 
 Diving for the red fruit tassels. I^d have 
 Some painter now to catch her eager look^ 
 
 Arch brows and lips out-blushed by berry juice; 
 And just that glint of gold athwart her brow_, 
 Let through the rent in her broad summer haL 
 That droops as languid as a poppy-flower 
 On her sunned shoulders. ^Twould be a sketch 
 To hang in my Sir Joshua gallery. 
 
 A single word would bring her running up^ 
 
 Her finger-tips like honeysuckle buds 
 Five-parted^ deeply dyed with odorous stains 
 And holding some seed-speckled shining prize 
 Plucked with its brother-blossom. Pll take 
 The shady holme- walk leading to the root-house. 
 Old Joseph sees me coming down the path_, 
 
 And wipes his forehead with a serious look. 
 
 1^11 warranty now^ he^s got some curious graft 
 
422 
 
 A GAEDEN SCENE. 
 
 Or monster flower to show. I hate such tricks 
 On Nature (plague take the parchment names 
 The pruning knave gives to God^s simple flowers). 
 And yet there^s something in the earthy man 
 That poses one; his shoes look just like roots. 
 
 IVe watched him in the hothouse^ muttering 
 To the long^ hairy creeping plants hung up 
 By four thin threads to the great branching vine; 
 And slow Pve seen him dodge the bluebottles 
 With thick^ unwieldy fingers ^cross the panes ; 
 
 Then stealthily go feed the Yenus fly-trap_, 
 
 And as the delicate green leaves curled round 
 The glistening villains^ how the clod would grin ! 
 And then^ he grows such rare prize orchises^ 
 
 Close- winged papilions, and hum-ceased bees 
 So delicately poised^ they^d cheat a boy 
 With ready cap — heTl win the medal yet. 
 
 The broad sunflowers at the high noon stare^ 
 
 Their comb-stored discs alive with busy drones ; 
 Wide open stand the bell-mouthed cactus-plants — 
 Like thirsty tongues their golden pistils loll 
 Over the flaring scarlet; flashing spar^ 
 
 Piled rockwise round the pond^ burns up 
 The fine streaked feather-grass. Such noons 
 I love my great north drawdng-room sketched round 
 With sheathed water-lilies_, and children white knee^d 
 Striving Against soft streams with minnow-nets ; 
 
 And as the gauzy curtains swells 
 To w^atch the black and yellow belted bees 
 Towards the south peach w^all_, with dreamy sound 
 Sail slowly by. 
 
423 
 
 WESTMINSTER CLOISTERS. 
 
 The thirteentlL day of June— Twas hot enough 
 For one of those old summer noons^ before 
 They meddled with the calendar^ and nipped 
 Us of a fortnights comfortable sun — 
 
 Thanks give I to the monks^ with all my soul_, 
 For their cool cloister roof^ and lay me down 
 Full length along the mouldering Gothic bench^ 
 Envying almost that ancient abbot stern_, 
 
 Gervatias de Blois^ who close beneath 
 
 Lies cut in stone. What might one better do 
 
 On sultry days^ than lie upon one^s back^ 
 
 Along a cold stone flag^ clothed all in stone^ 
 
 In full straight folds down to one^s very feet ; 
 Whilst pendant gossamers^, from bosses hung^ 
 Rising and falling with slow stately swing_, 
 
 Wave one asleep; or^ as the eve came on^ 
 "Marking the bats across the cloister grass 
 Hurl themselves edgeways with delicious rush : 
 
 Such were cool dreaming_, for the weather fit. 
 
 That old De Blois_, he was a priest^ indeed^ 
 Clutching his crosier on his carved grave 
 As though heM rule them from his very tomb. 
 
 The monks who stole here from refectory 
 To cool an after-dinneFs bursting paunchy 
 Crept curve -wise round some yard or two_, in awe 
 Of the old Norman^s irritable bones; 
 
 Though^, for the love they bore him^ had they dared_, 
 His very name and date they would have scuffled out. 
 
424 
 
 BE TEUSTEUL. 
 
 Abbot and priest^ tliey\"e time enough^ at last^ 
 In purgatorial graves to clear themselves. 
 
 Bach slab we step on ^s answered from below^ 
 
 By the fat marrow of some ancient monk^ 
 
 Who yet grins up in hate through brass and stone^ 
 As overhead some evangelic dean 
 Trips past in haste^ to fill with serious look 
 The chair at Pastoral Aid Society. 
 
 Pastoral aid_, indeed ! listen beneath^ 
 
 And hear them crunch their metacarpal bones^ 
 
 As they would fix him there in grisly clutch^, 
 
 His weasand clipping with their rosaries^ 
 
 To stop his scheming Against the Churches good. 
 But^ hark ! the diapason^s throbbing bass 
 Trembles through windows pictured with the saints. 
 
 Now^ by the sweat of tempted Anthony^ 
 
 Were I the veriest mummy of a priest^ 
 
 The sacred wafer in my gorge would rise^ 
 
 To listen to these hated heretics ! 
 
 ^Tis Tallis day_, and nimble-fingered Turle 
 Is torturing with stern Lutherian hymn 
 The rare organ^s fine old Catholic breath. 
 
 BE TEUSTFHL. 
 
 It was the morning early^ 
 
 The sun shone on the grass^, 
 The dew-drops_, pure and pearly^ 
 Hung like fair beads of glass. 
 
BE TEUSTFUL. 
 
 425 
 
 A little child lay playing 
 
 Upon the smooth-shaved lawn; 
 Seemed it the sun was saying — 
 ^^Oh^ youth^ l^by dawn/^ 
 
 Then moved a shadow slowly^ 
 
 A shade new born with day^ 
 
 Until it wrapt him wholly^ 
 
 The while in thoughtless play. 
 
 ^Tis thus/^ said repining, 
 
 ^^Weak child and strongest man 
 When at their gladdest shining 
 Pass under Sorrow^s ban.'’^ 
 
 Within the heart of laughter 
 A secret fear is bred. 
 
 And the darkness of hereafter 
 From present joy is shed. 
 
 Amidst these mnsings gloomy. 
 Despairing thus of life. 
 
 Calm, hopeful thoughts came to me ; 
 Faith conquered in the strife. 
 
 With countless frank-eyed daisies 
 The shadow seemed thick laid. 
 
 Like little children's faces 
 
 The world^s not made afraid. 
 
 They had not much of beauty. 
 
 But constant looks of praise. 
 
 And a calm and fixed duty 
 
 Shone through their steadfast gaze. 
 
426 
 
 AUTUMN ON THE HILL SIDE. 
 
 So^ God^ my lieart to freshen 
 And free me from my care^ 
 
 Had taught me a great lesson 
 By little daisies fair. 
 
 Again ^twas sunny mornings 
 And sweet as sweet could be^ 
 The birds^ the dull earth scorning. 
 Sung from each branching tree. 
 
 AUTUMN ON THE HILL SIDE. 
 
 Upon the upland, slanting to the plain 
 
 (Gently as slants a bird with outstretched wings). 
 
 Dreaming, with half-closed lids, I listless lie. 
 
 The thistle-downs float slowly past ; each seed. 
 Pendulous swaying from its parachute. 
 
 Skims lightly o^er the hindering blades of grass : 
 The purple heath-bells, swayed by gentle gusts. 
 Knock timidly against my brow and cheek : 
 
 Whilst ever, in the amber fields below. 
 
 The flashing sickle, by brown Labour urged. 
 Gleams crescent-wise through falling threads of corn. 
 Far off, along the tranquil landscape, creeps 
 The smokers thin azure from the stubble fires. 
 
 AlUs gentle motion and continual calm. 
 
 Oh, that the scene^s content we could drink in ! 
 With thirsty eyes and realizing brow 
 I gaze, and it is gone; just like some star. 
 
AUTUMN ON THE HILL SIDE. 
 
 427 
 
 That^ in perusing, fades — to dreamy eyes. 
 
 The vividness returns. Westward I look. 
 
 The setting sun upon the hilTs brim rests, 
 Shooting a golden weft along the ground. 
 
 In life-lines o^er the bosom of the steep 
 The sheep-tracks run, and ever from the sheep 
 Long shadows stream. Over the broken wall. 
 With bended knees, a ram leaps suddenly 
 And stares, tinkling at intervals the bell 
 Half muffled hieath his woolly throat ; full browed 
 Between his rib-carved horns, firmly he stands ; 
 And round him gather up the scattered flock. 
 
 Till like a cloud the whole drive swiftly past. 
 Seized with a panic fear. Upon the hills 
 And o^er the plain, still crowned. Summer sits; 
 But in the vale sad Autumn slowly steals. 
 
 How melancholy, in my homeward walk. 
 
 Between the avenue of limes, to see 
 The leaves fall undulating one by one. 
 
 And then upon the ground in eddies whirl ! 
 
 There are no bees about, no busy drones 
 Curious within the painted chalices. 
 
 The sun-dial in the garden day by day 
 More idle seems. The pathway weedy grows; 
 And we do watch no more a favourite flower. 
 Counting the buds. 
 
428 
 
 A WATER SKETCH. 
 
 Thor old, Here^ love^ towards this islet let us steer^ 
 Flush in this bay^ thick paved with lily leaves_, 
 
 The clear white cups our keen keel swirling down ; 
 And^ see ! up the dumb water-beetles dart^ 
 
 Then dive again among the swaying stems " 
 
 Our boat glides over. Hark ! how fresh the sounds 
 As ^twixt the reeds we crash upon the bank : 
 Firm footing here this tuft of rushes gives ; 
 
 One step_, and those twin-daisied feet we land 
 Upon the swarded green. See^ darling ! here^ 
 Among the weeds^ the glistening pieces stilly 
 Of the Venetian glass I broke last springs 
 Toasting The lady with the Greek-waved hair/^ 
 Till the last bubble burst upon my lip. 
 
 Here I remember on the ground I lay^ 
 
 Noting the silver satin^s changeful flush^ 
 
 And the long feathers nodding courtesies^ 
 
 Beneath that murmuring shade of sycamores_, 
 
 Where now the cloud of insects rise and fall ; 
 Then came a laugh^ and then — your deep blue eyes 
 And yellow hair^ of leafy shade grown tired^ 
 Towards yon tree, came out into the sun ; 
 
 Down dropped the ruffles from your loving arm 
 Upstrained to switch the chestnut^s budding cones. 
 Which scattered all around their little stars, 
 wish I had the giraffe^s neck,^^ you said. 
 
 To snap that tantalizing upper bud ! 
 
A WATER SKETCH. 
 
 429 
 
 And then turned round_, as if a friend were nigh^ 
 To where I stood admhnng. That curtsey proud ! 
 Look^ love^ and see_, from out the rustling reeds 
 The swan sail past. No Roman galley-beak 
 Back-curved disdained the water so — Twas thus 
 You drew up seeing me : ^twas all rare art — 
 Confess how much? 
 
 Millicent, See my poor finger now_, 
 
 How you have bruised it with my opal ring ! 
 
 Well^ then_, what cared I for the chestnut buds? 
 They said Sir Owlet there was quizzing them^ 
 
 And so I volunteered unearthing you^ 
 
 Hid close among the waving screen of ferns ; 
 
 ^Tis still continual mirth — how suddenly 
 I froze that pert assured smile of yours. 
 
 IVe often thought I should have lost you then^ 
 Had not that glorious Lanner^s Waltz struck up, 
 And swiftly into Pity^s melting drops 
 All my hoar-frosted haughty pride dissolved. 
 
 Then your revenge ! — Up sprang the gladdening 
 strings, 
 
 Beneath the harper^s spirit-stirring hand; 
 
 And round you whirhd me till my hair blew back. 
 And pants broke up my set-rehearsed speech : 
 
 IVe scarce forgiven you for so cheating me 
 Into acquaintanceship. 
 
 Thorold, Loop back your shawl. 
 
 Let thus your bonnet from the ribbons swing. 
 
 Just as, the music ceased, you wandered with me 
 Through the woods. Pd picture oVr again 
 
430 
 
 THE TWO PICTUKES. 
 
 That scene — remember how polite we were^ 
 Growing botanical o^er every flower; 
 
 Then the blue sky^ its deep intense admiring^ 
 
 And the grey shadows on the rounded clouds^ 
 Afraid to say what most we had at heart. 
 
 Then the beech wood came — the tall wood of masts 
 Branchless and still ; what wonder sweet^, my love^ 
 That here we let our golden secret out? 
 
 The rest you know. — Pve felt so happy now. 
 Watching the sun-waves^ ceaseless flickering 
 Upon the boat-side dance, just as old joys 
 Come gently rippling Against the saddened heart. 
 And break in glowing lines. — Pve scarce perceived 
 The tide has left these flags ; we Ve barely time 
 To clear the shallows in the upper reach. 
 
 And bring our skiff up to her mooring-ring 
 By the old willow shadowing the creek. 
 
 THE TWO PICTURES. 
 
 One wintePs evening, just as light had fled. 
 
 And noiseless glowed the keen bright frosty Are, 
 Mary and I, close drawn up side by side. 
 
 With eyes dilated, on the caves of gold 
 And shining castles in the embers clear. 
 
 Sat musing on the features of the Past. 
 
 And Retrospection many times arose. 
 
 Soft as a diver rising through the sea. 
 
 And showed old sorrows that, like softest pearls. 
 
THE TWO PICTURES. 
 
 431 
 
 ^Mid tangled fragments of forgotten things^ 
 
 I^is liand had rescued from deep Lethe^s stream. 
 And in the midst of those old faded scenes 
 The wicker of the little cot it creaked^ 
 
 Eousing the quick-eared mother from her dreams. 
 You should have seen her with fresh parted lip 
 And hushing finger^ though the sound was past^ 
 Hanging upon the gentle breath of sleep^ 
 
 The perfect picture of maternal care. 
 
 And then (so runs the music of the heart 
 That one sweet note remembers yet another) 
 
 Once more to me she turned_, and with white hand 
 The silken curtain of her hair drew back^ 
 
 And fondly pressed her loving cheek to mine_, 
 
 As though she^d coin her heart out at a touch. 
 
 Thus as we sat, my fancies found them words, 
 And Mary listened, with her hand in mine. 
 
 The whilst I visions of the future drew. 
 
 I told her of the early morns of June 
 (Ere yet the starlings underneath the eaves 
 Lifted their joyous songs, or swiftly ran 
 With dewy breasts upon the meadow grass) — 
 When little voices, freshly waked from sleep. 
 
 From distant rooms, and laundries, full of sound. 
 Like to the charming of young birds, would come. 
 I drew a picture of an eager group 
 Clustered in quiet by the evening fire; 
 
 Their breathless faces fast upon me fixed. 
 
 As little leaves enforced by the sun, 
 
 The whilst I told them of the bloody key. 
 
432 
 
 THE TWO PICTUEES. 
 
 And fearful Blue Beard calling up the tower 
 To Fatima^ who^ in her utmost need^ 
 
 Saw no help coming but the flock of sheep. 
 
 I showed her all their faces flushed with joy — 
 Their clapping hands when giants dire were slain^ 
 And the deep wonder dwelling in their eyes 
 At the unfolding of bright fairy tales^ 
 
 These marvels that invisibly seem writ 
 Within our hearts^ till little children come^ 
 
 And warm their hidden characters to life. 
 
 And then in fancy up the toilsome stairs 
 My wife I took^ and^ through the half-open door^ 
 Showed her our little children on their knees^ 
 
 Palm unto palm their placid hands upraised^ 
 
 And j)rayer escaping from their parted lips 
 
 Gently as odorous exhalations creep 
 
 From out the bosom of an opening rose. 
 
 And further pictures then I should have drawn 
 Of gallant boyhood^ generous and free^ 
 
 But that my Mary pressed my arm^ and said^ 
 
 One moment^ love — a little let me dwell 
 Upon this joy : your words within my soul 
 Have set a golden ladder up^ whose end 
 Is lost in shining clouds of happy light^, 
 
 On which my thoughts^ like angels in the dream^ 
 Climb with a glory burning on their wings. 
 
 Ah^ me ! I fear this heaven is too glad^ 
 
 And that swift shadows bar the happy light.^^ 
 
 Thus as she spoke^ there rose within my heart 
 A picture full of sorrowful regrets. 
 
THE TWO PICTURES. 
 
 433 
 
 I see/’ said the shadow that you dread^ 
 
 As ^mid the dim green underlight of leaves 
 A desolate nest among the branches stands^ 
 Emptied of brooding love and cheerful song; 
 
 So stands our household in my second dream. 
 
 No more from out the sunny garden comes 
 The shout of boyhood swinging on the branch; 
 Fled are our little birds^ and we^ dear vs^ife^ 
 
 Old joyless people^ in the vale of years^ 
 
 To the dim memories of our children gone^ 
 
 Are left alone within the dreary house. 
 
 Canst thou not see us wandering through the rooms^ 
 Each one the prompter of some perished hope? 
 Here died our fairest girl^ and ^mid our tears 
 Bade that we kept it evermore the same; 
 
 Bade us be careful of her little birds^ 
 
 Her plants^ her range of poets on the shelf; 
 
 She loved them so^ be sure sheM come again 
 To haunt once more the old familiar place. 
 
 The room remains through twenty years the same^., 
 Still in her careful drawers her long white frocks^ 
 With lavender all scentless now with age^ 
 
 Lie stored^ and tell of summers long ago. 
 
 Or^ Tis the sad mute playroom that we tread^ 
 
 The echoes of old sounds within our ears; 
 
 Old toys they lay about to touch our hearts 
 With the sad dew of tears^ that never more 
 They shall be cause of joyous mirth again. 
 
 Along the floor with silent foot of gold 
 Steals the warm sunlight^ freshly as the day 
 It glittered on our darling^s flaxen hair. 
 
 2 F 
 
434 
 
 MY EOOM IN THE COUNTEY. 
 
 Our eldest boy_, noisy with drum and iife^ 
 
 Saying he^d be a soldier when a man: 
 
 Ab^ me ! we dreamt not then the end — 
 
 It was God^s will it should be as it is. 
 
 There hangs upon the wall his silken sash^ 
 
 Faded beneath a burning Indian sun. 
 
 Poor boy ! he bravely died ; we had his captain^ s word 
 For the young ensign^ s honour in the field. 
 
 Poor boy^ he was our last 
 
 Upon my hands 
 
 Hot tears^ large as the drops of summer^ fell^ 
 Stopping my speech. Alas ! these were but dreams 
 That I wove sitting by a winters fire^ 
 
 Which faded in a moment from my brain; 
 
 But in her woman^s heart long time they dwelt^ 
 And the bright angels that before did climb^ 
 
 One after one^ with shadows on their wings^ 
 Slowly she saw descend. 
 
 MY EOOM IN THE COUNTEY. 
 
 Y/^ith aspect bright^ my little room 
 Should ever be exempt from gloom ; 
 
 In straight white shafts the morning sun 
 From the east should inward run ; 
 
 And the last faint streak of day 
 Through the western pane should stray. 
 And cooling chintz of fashion old^ 
 Eetaining still its careful fold^ 
 
MY EOOM IN THE COUNTEY. 
 
 Should cover all the spacious chairs^ 
 
 And seem to speak of housewife cares. 
 
 So dumb the carpet should be wrought^ 
 
 No sounds of footsteps might be caught^ 
 Much less sly Nan^s^ whose sweet surprise 
 Should be to creep with laughing eyes 
 On fearful tiptoe up behind^ 
 
 With little hands to make me blind ! 
 
 Of pictures round I shall have few_, 
 
 But all of Nature speaking true. 
 
 A Constable^ so lucid sweety 
 On sultry days my eyes to greet; 
 
 As boys who splash beside a brook^ 
 
 So dewy cool should be its look. 
 
 And Danby^ chiefest of his band^ 
 
 Within the compass of my hand 
 Should picture me a desert vast^ 
 
 A toiling caravan o^ercast^ 
 
 And foundered ■’mid the burning sand. 
 
 And on the wall toward the east 
 I would have an endless feast^ 
 
 A landscape of that rare old Cuyp^ 
 
 Of breathing full^ and sun- warmth ripe; 
 And when the great orb downward rolled^ 
 Along the wall the squares of gold 
 Athwart its face should slowly melt^ 
 Whilst Nature art^ Art nature felt. 
 
 • 
 
 Not all alone Vd keep apart 
 This room from her who shared my heart, 
 
 2 F 2 
 
436 
 
 MY EOOM IN THE COUNTEY. 
 
 And as affection ever masks 
 The sacredness of pure love tasks^ 
 
 My own dear girl should often find 
 Excuses perfect to her mind : 
 
 ^^Her fuchsia^, lacking water^ drooped 
 Or^ The long curtains were unlooped/^ 
 
 And on such small pretexts as these^ 
 
 She should be my fondest tease ; 
 
 Disturbing me from deepest books 
 By constant hindrance of sweet looks. 
 
 One Avindow should be trellissed deep 
 With jasmine stems_, and you should peep 
 An arm^s depth through the sheltering green; 
 And there should struggle up between 
 A rose-tree^ and its blooms above^ 
 
 Heavy as woman^s heart with love^ 
 
 Should^ when the fitful winds bode rain^ 
 
 Throb gently Against the casement pane. 
 
 The lattice Bd have open wide 
 
 (The hindering stems just pushed aside) 
 
 Upon the cool deep grass of June, 
 
 ^Tlwart which there should be swathes beat down^ 
 Such as we trench with feet all white 
 From dusty roads with pure delight. 
 
 Just issuing from a city hived. 
 
 With delight, and heart revived 
 
 That we have lived once more to feel 
 God^s breath about the country steal. 
 
 And when an idle fit came on, 
 
 Fd ope the window, and the song 
 
ASSOCIATIONS OF A SHELL. 
 
 437 
 
 Of birds in bigb-np brancbes clear 
 Let in upon my charmed ear. 
 
 And as I lay at length^ tbe breeze^ 
 
 From base to spire^ tbe poplar-trees 
 Should ever stir with slumbrous song^ 
 
 Whilst quivered all their leafy throng. 
 
 And^ like a fall of summer snow^ 
 
 The apple-blooms should softly flow^ 
 
 '’Till every nook within the room 
 Was filled with drifts of fresh perfume. 
 
 Then musing_, half awake,, Fd lie,, 
 
 And,, as I gazed^ a bird should fly 
 Swiftly across the window pane,. 
 
 And then a full shrill note should strain 
 Eight in my ear. And as I mused,. 
 
 Both sight and sound should grow confused; 
 But still,, within my inmost brain,. 
 
 That bird’s song should bring back again^ 
 With one sad touch of sense refined^ 
 
 Some old forgotten state of mind. 
 
 ASSOCIATIONS OF A SHELL. 
 
 Can I forget that calm long evening 
 When last we walked together by the sea? 
 Can I forget ? Ah,, no ! Each image clear 
 Eemains of that glad season in my soul^ 
 
 As did our footsteps then upon the sand. 
 
 It was the flooding of the great spring tide. 
 
438 
 
 ASSOCIATIOXS OF A SHELL. 
 
 And slie would have me to tlie headland stroll^ 
 
 To watch the white spray showering o^er the rock. 
 It was a glorious sights as we passed on : 
 
 The sweeping bay with golden sands lay rimmed^ 
 On which the proud imperious sea advanced^ 
 
 With heavy murmurs each translucent scroll. 
 
 Now can I picture^ as Twere yesterday^ 
 
 How fair she stood^ as through her summer dress 
 Faintly the breeze her slender figure sketched. 
 
 Her curls (almost too heavy for the wind) 
 
 Beneath her chin she held with one white hand^ 
 Laughing so merrily with half-closed eyes 
 When the gusts thickened. Then as I said 
 (What I had said a thousand happy times) ^ 
 
 Dear Letty/^ whilst her willing hand clasped mine^ 
 A clear-necked wave impetuous on the strand^ 
 Urged with a singing sound its thin smooth fiood^ 
 Glassy the sand on its retreating shone^ 
 
 And there^ neglected by the tide^s reclaim, 
 
 A curious shell upon its spines stood poised. 
 
 I was the servant of her eager eyes. 
 
 And ere the foam-bells from the sea-gift died. 
 
 The prize was hers. ^Twas the last evening. 
 
 Ere she sailed from us in that fatal boat — 
 
 How long that time ago ! All the old haunts — 
 The shallow pools, for the fine sea-weed famed — 
 The limpet rocks, where first her gentle hands 
 She bade me help to pluck the stubborn cones. 
 And the tall fishing stakes — long gone are they. 
 Deep merged in the overwhelming sea. 
 
 This little shell alone to me remains 
 
THE ANCIENT GAEDEN. 
 
 439 
 
 Of all tliat vivid scene of long past years; 
 
 There lies it on the polished mantel-piece^ 
 
 Its pink lip turning to the marble chill. 
 
 An image of that miserable noon. 
 
 When passionate my lips to hers death-cold 
 I pressed, and the awed fisherman knelt by. 
 
 His rude hands (corded as his own strong net) 
 The sea-weeds plucking from her drowned locks. 
 
 How my life centres in that cheerless day. 
 
 And how this little shell brings back again 
 That clear bright picture and its heavy shade ! 
 
 THE ANCIENT GARDEN. 
 
 About the middle of a summer^ s day 
 Once was I wandering in the silent paths 
 That lay within an ancient garden^ s gloom ; 
 Stirring the night-moths underneath the leaves 
 Of the fresh privet hedges, white with bloom. 
 
 So on, adown the solemn yew-tree walk. 
 
 That cast a shadow like a solid wall. 
 
 Until I reached that gloomy garden^ s heart, 
 
 A little space, that, free to sun and air. 
 
 Lay damasked with the painted spires of flowers. 
 Fast in the centre stood an ancient dial. 
 
 That seemed the solemn spirit of the place. 
 Severe in silence, mid the flood of hght. 
 
/ 
 
 440 THE ANCIENT GAKDEN. 
 
 I leaned my elbow on the crumbling stone, 
 Painted witb lichen and green canker stains; 
 
 And whilst I rested for a season brief. 
 
 My spirit fell into a quiet muse; 
 
 And soon I peopled all the space around 
 Quaintly in fashions of a day gone by — 
 
 The footsteps heard of all that trod those paths. 
 The old, who tottered in the burning sun — 
 
 The lovers, hand in hand, who sought the shade. 
 In the fresh mornings counted with the Past. 
 
 All these, thought I, within this little space 
 Stood here awhile, and marked with different mood 
 How the black shadow of the tooth of Time 
 Devoured the shining circle of the dial. 
 
 First came the old man, trembling on his stick ; 
 A moment gazed — then shook his withered hand — 
 Alas ! my time is very short, said he ; 
 
 And, feeding on the faded picture of his youth. 
 He passed. Next, came young manhood flushed. 
 What of the clock it was, at leisure read. 
 
 The whilst into the Future fast he pushed. 
 
 And then a maid with yellow hair blown back 
 (Like tearful angel in some missal old). 
 
 Who read of broken trysts in ages past, 
 
 A moment glanced to see how late the day. 
 
 And still no footstep down the pathway came. 
 
 Where are they gone — the old and withered man. 
 And the first fresh glorious dew of youth ? 
 
 A passing bell— the fall of bitter tears, 
 
THE PASSINa OF THE STOEM. 
 
 441 
 
 And now upon the hill-side^s gentle slope 
 The sheep are wandering o^er forgotten graves ! 
 And so the people of the garden passed. 
 
 Not so the garden. With each gladdening spring, 
 The old roots stir within its ancient breast. 
 
 The hollyhock shoots spirewise through the air. 
 And hangs her crimson bells out to the bee. 
 The rose unfoldeth to her inmost leaf. 
 
 The vine creeps on. The cedar^s tardy growth 
 Has jostled out the mossy, crumbling seat. 
 Where once the lovers idled in the shade. 
 Perfect the picture — as it was of old, 
 
 Save human hearts which have for ever passed. 
 
 Thus musing, down a shady walk I turned. 
 This life, said I, slips very fast away; 
 
 But who would stop the running of the sand? 
 ^Twere but the folly of a child, who grasps 
 The waters' of some swiftly running stream. 
 
 Which mocking through each vacant finger flows 
 Down to the great inevitable Sea. 
 
 THE PASSING OP THE STOEM. 
 
 Slowly had sailed away the heavy rack 
 
 That hung between us and the god of day; 
 And there remained but one lone cloud and black. 
 That noiseless moved against the sunny way. 
 
442 
 
 THE PASSING OF THE STORM. 
 
 And as it passed^ beneath its under-edge^ 
 
 The Sun sent down his smile upon the earth ; 
 
 Spreading from field to fields from tree to sedge_, 
 As laughter spreads around a tale of mirth. 
 
 The sunshine now with joyous step moved on 
 Until it reached a corn-field^ spreading wide^ 
 
 That^ pale before the wind_, ran swift along^ 
 
 All blanched with fear_, like foam- waves on a tide. 
 
 But every ear soon felt the sunlight fall^ 
 
 And quick upreared its head against the sky^ 
 
 And shook its yellow beard and form so tall^ 
 
 As cowards do when danger has gone by. 
 
 Released^ the glorious orbed sun did rise^ 
 
 And Earth smiled gladly through her crystal tears^ 
 
 Glad as the looks that gleam from brimming eyes 
 When joy doth take the place of haunting fears. 
 
 And then the splendours of the arch did grow^ 
 
 The moist earth spanning with its glorious sweep ; 
 
 A frame of coloured tears its gentle bow^ 
 
 For many a village spire and rural peep. 
 
 Slowly away I saw that lone cloud ride^ 
 
 Its sluggard shadow loitering o^er the plain ; 
 
 But swift anon it climbed the mountain side^ 
 
 Contorted strange^ like some huge thing in pain. 
 
443 
 
 THE DESERTED COTTAGE. 
 
 Rank nettles grew sidling tlie barren walls. 
 Grass peeped atween the pathway stones. 
 
 Green thistles and long ivy falls 
 At night made sighs and inoans. 
 
 Yet were there lingering remnants there, 
 Between the tangling of the weeds. 
 
 Of plats, and such trim gardening care. 
 
 That still showed faintly through the reeds. 
 
 High up the second lattice frame. 
 
 Showed all a hollowness behind ; 
 
 No light was there, no cheerful flame. 
 
 No shadow moving thwart the blind. 
 
 This mouldering lattice-sill upon, 
 
 A large dog-daisy breezes wooed ; 
 
 And by it when the eve came on, 
 
 A lizard crept to seek for food. 
 
 The noontide ever found all peace. 
 
 No latch did clink, or creaked the floor; 
 
 No motion for a lengthened lease 
 The spider had across the door. 
 
444 
 
 LIFE AFTER DEATH. 
 
 With dancing plumes they brought me up here dead : 
 Dead^ and to lie until the end of time. 
 
 They cursed me ere the priest had shut his book_, 
 And cast a stone down for the clod of earth ; 
 
 And here they left me on this hill-side bleak_, 
 
 Face unto face with my offended God. 
 
 Day after day^ until the end of time^ 
 
 Here must I lie within my narrow bed^ 
 
 And ever gazing upwards must I read 
 The sneering lies theyVe graven on my tomb^ 
 Touching the merits of the rich deceased; 
 
 Whilst texts of Scripture^ .chicled round with clouds^ 
 And gilded angels at the corners set^ 
 
 Mask with a smile my dark and utter woe. 
 
 Welcome to me each little sound that breaks 
 The hideous vigil that I^m forced to keep — 
 
 The sheep^s short bite upon a neighbouring grave — 
 The stranger^s tread in summer evenings calm, 
 Wandering from stone to stone with pace subdued, 
 
 Of epitaphs and ancient dates in search — 
 
 And, more than all, the Sabbath^ s simple bell. 
 
 My only measure for the passing time. 
 
 Quickly my darkened ear doth catch each sound. 
 The old rope fraying Against the belfry beam ; 
 
 The pathway swarming with quick children's feet, 
 
 As files along the punctual village school; 
 
LIFE AFTER DEATH. 
 
 445 
 
 From every side^ the people as they pour^ 
 
 Some from across the scented fields of bean^ 
 
 Some through the breast-deep^ poppied^ waving corn^ 
 The village spire a central point to all. 
 
 A hundred knees soon meekly bend them down_, 
 
 So still in prayer the little bee^s clear hum 
 Entering the porch fills all the listening aisle 
 (For none might hear the angehs rustling wing 
 Who at God^s altar ever humbly tends). 
 
 0 Christ ! for one short hour of living breathy 
 One little hour_, the meanest listener there^ 
 
 The meanest hind who at my ^scutcheon stares 
 With awe and wonder at its bloody hand^ 
 
 That palm to palm thy pardon I might crave. 
 
 To lift away my heavy load of sin ! 
 
 The preacheFs voice into my prison sinks, — 
 
 As falls the tree so ever must it lie.^^ 
 
 My prayers they stop, my supplicating hands 
 Dismayed fall down beneath the damned dead. 
 
 Too late ! too late ! religioids tender dew 
 Falls but to mock upon my house of clay ; 
 
 Fool that I was, the faintest word of trust, — 
 
 Late as the dying thief upon the cross. 
 Tremblingly breathed into his SaviouFs ear, — 
 
 Pure as the morn had sent my soul to God. 
 
 The smiling people pass out through the porch. 
 And thread the green graves to their happy homes ; 
 
/ 
 
 446 LIFE AFTEE DEATH. 
 
 The meagre sexton shuffles down the path^ 
 
 The hatchway shuts^ and alPs again at rest 
 Within the circle of the churchyard wall^ 
 
 Death^s dismal pounds upon the lonely hill. 
 
 Here must I lie until the end of time, 
 
 A faithless servant trembling at the door. 
 
 Who waits in fear his angry master^ s call. 
 
 And the inevitable doom to come ! 
 
 THE END. 
 
LONDON ; 
 
 EOBFET HAEDWICKE, PKINTER AND PUBLISBEE, 
 
 192 , PICCADILLY. 
 
USEFUL WORKS 
 
 PUBLISHED BY 
 
 ROBERT HARDWICKE, 
 
 192 , PICCADILLY, W. 
 
 In Monthly parts^ at 5s. from Jan. 1, 18G3. Each part contains 'M 
 pages of plates and an average of 24 pages of letter-press. To be 
 completed in about 66 parts. 
 
 Sowerby’s English Botany: 
 
 Containing a description and drawing of every British Plant ; Life 
 Size, full-coloured by hand, with Illustrations of the Organs. Edited 
 and brought up to the present standard of scientific knowledge by 
 T. Boswell Syme, F.L.S.,&c., Lecturer on Botany at Charing-Cross 
 and Westminster Hospitals. With Popular Descriptions of the Uses, 
 History, and Traditions of each Plant, by Mrs. Lankester, author 
 of “ Wild Flowers worth Notice,” “ The British Ferns,” &c. The 
 Figures by James Sowerby, F.L.S., J. de C. Sowerby, F.L.S., 
 J. E. Sowerby and J. W. Salter, A.L.S. 
 
 The Distinctive Characteristics of this edition are. 
 
 1. A life-size drawing of every British plant, arranged according to 
 the natural system of De Candolle. 
 
 2. Where necessary, the plates are accompanied by illustrations of the 
 structure of the various organs of the plant, especially those structures 
 discovered within the last few years by the use of the microscope. 
 
 3. All the illustrations are full-coloured, instead of half- coloured, as 
 in the second edition ; and the utmost care is taken to adhere as closely 
 as possible to nature. 
 
 Specimens may be had gratis on application. 
 
 A few Copies of the Second Edition, 
 
 12 Vols. can still be had. 
 
 £. s. d. 
 
 Vol. 1 to 7 Flowering Plants 10 10 0 
 
 Vol. 8 to 12 Cryptogamia 9 10 0 
 
 The Complete Set 15 0 0 
 
2 
 
 Robert Hardwicke, 192 , Ficcadilly^ w. 
 
 Illustrated hy more than 200 Woodcuts^ price l^. ; hound, Is. ^d, 
 
 A Manual of Structural Botany. 
 
 By M. C. Cooke, Author of “ Seven Sisters of Sleep, &c. 
 
 “ Condensed, yet clear, comprehensive, but brief, it affords to the learner a distinct 
 view.’’ — Globe. 
 
 “ This excellent little volume was more particularly intended for the use of students 
 in the Botanical Classes established for operatives, into whose hands it was most 
 desirable to place some written record of the lessons they were attending; but its 
 usefulness is by no means limited to such readers, as it forms one of the very best as 
 well as simplest and most comprehensive introductions to Botany we have ever met 
 with. Every difficult scientific word — those great stumbling-blocks to beginners — is 
 not only explained, but well illustrated by a woodcut introduced in the text, so that 
 any misunderstanding of what is meant is rendered impossible, and the learner takes 
 
 in the lesson doubly enforced : taught, that is, to both mind and eye at once 
 
 We are confidently able to recommend the little volume to public favour, its very low 
 price (Is.) bringing it within the range of all purchasers.” — Era. 
 
 Fcap. %vo. cloth, price 2s. 6fZ. 
 
 A Manual of Botanic Terms. 
 
 By M. C. Cooke. With more than 300 Illustrations. 
 
 “ We do not hesitate to say that by a careful use of this book a sound knowledge of 
 the theoretical portion of Botany may be obtained without tedious labour .” — Mining 
 Journal. 
 
 “ This elegant little volume will be a w^elcome boon to all botanical students. It 
 contains intelligible descriptions of all the terms used in botanical science, with a 
 collection of beautifully-executed illustrations at the end of the volume. To all who 
 do not, but are willing to know the full meaning of such terms as Campylospermous, 
 Sterigmate, and Perichsetium, this volume may be safely recommended.” — Critic, 
 
 “ This book affords special facilities for the acquisition of the technicalities of 
 botanical science to such as are not already masters of the dead languages. It is 
 illustrated by numerous explanatory diagrams.” — The Dial. 
 
 Handsomely hound, price One Gui/nea, A Large Edition, without 
 descriptive letter-press, One Guinea. 
 
 The Fern Collector’s Album. 
 
 A Descriptive Folio for the reception of Natural Specimens; con- 
 taining on the right-hand page a description of each fern printed in 
 colours, the opposite page being left blank, for the collector to 
 affix the dried specimen ; forming, when filled, an elegant and 
 complete collection of this interesting family of plants. 
 
 Size of the Smcdl Edition, 11 j hy 8| in. ; Large Edition, 17| hy 11 in. 
 
Robert Hardwicke, 192 , Plccadlllt/^ w. 
 
 Fcap. Svo, price ^s. 
 
 The British Fungi 
 
 (A plain and Easy Account of). With especial reference to the 
 Esculent and other Economic Species. By M. C. Cooke. With 
 Coloured Plates of 40 Species. 
 
 “ The author is a thorough mycophagist, well acquainted with the ])eculiar features 
 by which the most remarkable of the edible kinds of Fungi may be known.” — 
 Gardener^ s Chronicle. 
 
 “ A very readable volume upon the lowest and least generally understood race of 
 plants. For popular purposes the book could not have been better done.” — Athe~ 
 nceurn. 
 
 “ This is a very commendable little book. In the work before us we find asso- 
 ciated accurate scientific knowledge, full and satisfactory illustration by coloured 
 lithography and woodcuts, and ample and interesting information.” — Lancet, 
 
 “ The book is a very useful one, supplying, for a few shillings, information not 
 hitherto attainable except at a much larger cost.” — Field. 
 
 “ The author of this, at present, the only work written to popularize the study of 
 Fungi, has produced a remarkably neat and well illustrated hand-book to this tribe 
 of plants.” — Parthenon. 
 
 Fully illustrated, price 4s. coloured hy hand 2s. 6t7. plain. 
 
 The British Ferns 
 
 (A plain and Easy Account of). Together with their Classification, 
 Arrangement of Genera, Structure, and Functions, Directions for j 
 Out-door and In-door Cultivation, &c. By Mrs. Lankester. 
 
 “ Not only plain and easy, but elegantly illustrated.” — Athenoeum. 
 
 “Mrs. Lankester has given us a handy pocket volume, with a great deal of 
 information about the uses, supposed and real, of the Ferns, and hints for their 
 cultivation . ’ ’ — Guardian . 
 
 “ A charming little guide to one of the pleasantest of quiet country amusements. 
 
 It is small, cheap, elegant in form, and illustrated wdth coloured plates. Its de- 
 scription blends popular with scientific information ; there are instructions for 
 drying and collecting, and a glossary of scientific terms. The work is one that 
 may be used by a lady without any previous training as a botanist. It is elegant 
 • enough to lie on a drawing-room table, small and light enough to be carried about 
 without trouble in bag or pocket, and referred to by the heath side.” — Examiner. 
 
 “ Mrs. Lankester thoroughly understands how to make her science bend grace- 
 fully to common comprehension.” — Era. 
 
4 
 
 Robert Hardwicke, 192, Piccadilly^ 
 
 Price 2s. 6d. ; the same in Case without Description, price 2s. 
 
 Twelve British Ferns ; 
 
 Being dried natural Specimens; Named, Arranged, and Described. 
 By Joachim Otte, F.G.S. 
 
 I Fcap. Svo. cloth, coloured hy hand., 4^. ; plain, 2s, 6c?. 
 
 Wild Flowers worth Notiee. 
 
 A selection from the British Flora of some of our native plants which 
 are most attractive for their Beauty, Uses, or Associations. By 
 Mrs. Lankester. Illustrated by J. E. Sowerby. 
 
 “ Not a botanical treatise, but a practical minister to a growing taste, the parent 
 of new pleasures and improved habits ; an intelligent companion of healthful strolls 
 through sylvan glades.” — Morning Post. 
 
 “We can assure our readers that BIrs. Lankester’s accounts of her favourite 
 plants are well worth their best attention, and her little bits of folk lore and general 
 information are introduced with what we should consider great artistic skill, but that 
 i she writes so easily and naturally, that no deliberate effort seems to have been made. 
 We should say especially that any one who wishes to thoroughly enjoy the flowers of 
 their neighbourhood will do well to purchase ‘ Wild Flowers worth Notice.’ It is a 
 little book that teaches a great deal, and in so pleasant a way, that to be wearied is 
 impossible.” — Era. 
 
 “ We heartily recommend this exceedingly pretty little volume to the large class 
 who delight in fiow^ers, whether in the field or in the garden, but who, deterred by its 
 innumerable ‘ wwds of learned length and thundering sound,’ decline to enter on 
 the study of botany as a science. They will find nearly one hundred wild flowers, 
 such as they meet with in any walk, so accurately represented in colours by BIr. 
 
 I Sowerby, that the recognition will be a pleasure instead of a difficulty, and so agree- 
 j ably described by the authoress, that a new pleasure is imparted to even such well- 
 j known plants as buttercups and daisies.” — Gentleman^ s Magazine. 
 i “ We are so frequently asked by our country friends to recommend books on 
 
 Flowers and Ferns that shall be interesting without being too scientific, that we are 
 i heartily glad to have the opportunity of so doing which the present elegant but cheap 
 little volume affords.” — Practical Farmers’ Chronicle. 
 
 “ It must not be supposed that BIrs. Lankester only deals with botanical facts ; 
 she has much legendary lore to relate, and many curious anecdotes to tell ; so that, 
 whether regarded as a handbook for a country walk, or as a volume for perusal in the 
 library, ‘ Wild Flowers worth Notice’ is equally acceptable.” — Shipping and Mer can- 
 tile Gazette. 
 
 “We could while away a long summer day talking of the pleasant things sug- 
 gested by this little book. Although all intelligent persons cannot become botanists, 
 not to know the wild flowers of our country is to be ignorant both of our country and 
 ourselves. And this little book will, as a pocket companion during holiday rambles — 
 the descriptions and plates being both good— destroy this ignorance in reference to at 
 ; least a hundred plants. After mastering it, the student will be not a little astounded 
 I at his own learning, when he surveys it in the systematic chapter of contents.” — 
 Athenceum. 
 
 “ A graceful little volume. The reader may be surprised to find how many 
 flowers are properly considered wild, although they are constantly seen in cultivation. 
 BIrs. Lankester’s list comprises about a hundred, from the domestic poppy to the 
 stately water-lily ; and each has its own portrait, carefully drawn and coloured from 
 life, by a most painstaking and affectionate artist. It is the very book for an autumn 
 ramble.’’ — Illustrated Times. 
 
Robert Hardwicke, 192 , Piccadilly^ w. 
 
 Second Edition^ much improved and enlarged. Fcap. ^vo. price 2s. ^d. 
 Fully illustrated. 
 
 Bones. 
 
 Or, Notes for Young Naturalists. By the Rev. W. S. Symonds, 
 Rector of Pendock, Author of “ Stones of the Valley,” &c. 
 
 “ Although modest in its plan, it is a very superior work — broad, exact, suflS- 
 ciently explained by well-chosen examples, and amply illustrated.” — Daily News. 
 
 “ A small manual of palaeontology, very carefully compiled, and likely to be very 
 useful to those who have not the means to purchase or leisure to read Professor 
 Owen’s larger works.” — Spectator. 
 
 “A well written and admirably illustrated manual for the student of natural his- 
 tory, and one which will no doubt become extensively popular.” — Literary Gazette. 
 
 ‘‘Beautifully got up, judiciously condensed, and artistically arranged ; to say 
 nothing of its literary ability, which certainly bespeaks a close and shrewd observer.” 
 — Era. 
 
 ‘‘ The plan pursued by Mr. Symonds is a very simple one. He adopts the classi- 
 fication of Professor Owen, and carries the young naturalist from family to family, 
 beginning with man and ending with the lowest fishes, making his own remarks as 
 he goes on. We recommend these notes. The volume is neatly got up, and deserves 
 a sale amongst the class for whom it is intended.” — Athenaeum. 
 
 “ Young naturalists cannot do better than possess themselves of a copy of * Old 
 Bones.’ It is the work of an ardent lover of nature, with a mind richly stored with 
 knowledge and high scientific acquirement.” — Edinburgh Witness, 
 
 “ The pleasing and highly-interesting style of Mr. Symonds’s work is such, that 
 no sooner is its perusal commenced, than the reader becomes gradually and imper- 
 ceptibly entwined in the beauties of the subject, and willingly continues his course, 
 until at last, upon reaching the concluding pages of the work, he finds that he has 
 attained so complete a knowledge of the principles of one of the most interesting 
 sciences, that he will feel an irresistible desire to pursue his studies to the highest 
 possible point. We can unhesitatingly say that, from no work upon the subject which 
 we have seen will an equal amount of information be obtained so entirely without 
 labour, and in so short a time.” — Mining Journal. 
 
 “ A very useful little work, well calculated to afford information to the student of 
 natural history.” — Observer. 
 
 ‘‘ We cannot conclude without recommending all with whom we have influence 
 to purchase this wonderfully cheap and yet elegantly illustrated little volume.” — 
 Practical Farmers^ Chronicle. 
 
 ‘‘ To such of our readers as may be dabbling in the science, or may wish to have 
 such a general knowledge of its outlines and acquaintance with its nomenclature as 
 may enable them to take some interest in the many ways in which it meets them in 
 their literature or social intercourse of the day, we cordially recommend the book. It 
 is the work of a writer at once eloquent and scientific — a scientific man who has worked 
 up his knowledge, not by manuals or short cuts, but by hard, practical, patient inves- 
 tigation of the thing which he describes, — a clergyman, who has studied nature without 
 ever losing sight of nature’s God.” — Church Jievievj. 
 
 Post ^vo. numerous illustrations, price Ly. 
 
 Pliotographs for the Magic Lantern: 
 
 How to Take and How to Show them. By Samuel Highley, 
 F.G.S., F.C.S., &c. Being the subject matter of two Lectures 
 delivered before the Photographic Society of London, and the 
 Society of Arts, January, 1S63. 
 
6 
 
 Robert Hardavicke, 192, Piccadilhj^ w. 
 
 Complete in cloth, price 2s. 6f7. 
 
 Prof. Huxley’s Lectures On the 
 Origin of Species.” 
 
 1. The Present Condition of Organic Nature. — 2. The Past Con- 
 dition of Organic Nature. — 3. The Method by which the Causes 
 of the Present and Past Conditions of Organic Nature are to be 
 discovered. The Origination of Living Beings. — 4. The Per- 
 petuation of Living Beings, Hereditary Transmission, and Variation. 
 — 5. The Condition of Existence as affecting the Perpetuation of 
 Living Beings. — 6. A Critical Examination of the Position of Mr. 
 Darwin's Work “ On the Origin of Species," in relation to the 
 complete Theory of the Causes of the Phenomena of Organic 
 Nature. 
 
 “ Readers who cannot accept Mr. Darwin’s doptrines and conclusions will still be 
 delighted with these lectures, since they embody so much curious information and so 
 many important principles of biological science, expressed so clearly as to render the 
 book, even to readers possessing scarcely any previous knowledge of the subject, not 
 only intelligible but more interesting than any romance.” — Weldon's Register. 
 
 Price 2s. GtZ. 
 
 Landscape Photography. 
 
 Or, Complete and Easy Description of the Manipulations and 
 Apparatus necessary for the production of Landscape Pictures, 
 Geological Sections, &c., by theCalotype, Wet Collodion, Collodio- 
 Albumen, Albumen-gelatine, and Wax-paper processes ; by the 
 assistance of which, an Amateur may at once commence the art. 
 By Joachim Otte, F.G.S. 
 
 “To the commencing amateur the book seems very well adapted, and to one who 
 wishes to practise photography as an amusement or an adjunct to any other pursuir, 
 it maybe cordially recommended .” — Literary Gazette. 
 
 Demy 8vo. cloth, price 12^. 
 
 The True Figure and Dimensions of 
 the Earth. 
 
 Newly determined from the results of geodetic measurements and 
 pendulum observations ; compared with the corresponding theo- 
 retical elements, for the first time deduced upon purely geometrical 
 principles ; and considered both with reference to the progress of 
 scientific truth, and as bearing upon the practical interests of British 
 commerce and navigation ; in a Letter addressed to George Biddell 
 Airy, Esq., M.A., Astronomer Royal. By Johannes von Gum- 
 PACH. Second edition, entirely recast, with thirty illustrative 
 diagrams. 
 
Robert Hardwicke, 192, Piccadilly^ \\\ 
 
 Third Edition ^ much enlarged^ with full description of the various 
 parts of the Instrument, price 2s. 6d. plain ; 4s. coloured. 
 
 Half-hours with the Microscope. 
 
 By Edwin Lankester, M.D. Illustrated by 250 Drawings 
 from Nature by Tuffen West. 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Half-an-hour on Structure. | Half-an-hour at the Pond-side. 
 
 Half-an-hour in the Garden. i Half-an-hour at the Seaside. 
 
 Half-an-hour in the Country. \ Half-an-hour In-doors. 
 
 Appendix. — The Preparation and Mounting of Objects. 
 
 “ This wonderful anatomy of sight divides clearly one blood corpuscle from 
 another; marks distinction from the blood of a fowl and that of a frog; separates 
 the filaments of the finest plants ; delineates the bearded hair of the sowthistle ; 
 makes a picture of vine or potato blight ; pries into the hollow cells of the passion 
 flower ; and searches the warm depths of the poppy. Then it dignifies into* isolation 
 the minutest hair on the ear of a mouse, the mouth of a flea, the fang of a spider, 
 the eye of a fly, the smallest particle that goes to make up a drift of swandown. 
 Elementary Manuals of Science are seldom so well adapted to please, no less than 
 to teach. The compiler of the volume has this conspicuous merit, that he deals 
 with wonders, and never exaggerates them.’* — Athenaeum. 
 
 “ The beautiful little volume before us cannot be otherwise than welcome. It is 
 
 in fact, a very complete manual for the amateur microscopist The ‘ Half- 
 
 Hours’ are filled with clear and agreeable descriptions, whilst eight plates, executed 
 with the m.ost beautiful minuteness and sharpness, exhibit no less than 250 objects 
 with the utmost attainable distinctness.” — Critic. 
 
 “ It is a most interesting study only to observe how Nature in her smallest 
 productions, developes the figures as well as the organization by which the functions 
 of the largest animals and vegetable creations are performed. But the botanist, the 
 ph 5 ^siologist, the zoologist, the anatomist, the geologist, and the chenjist, may derive 
 assistance from this book in accomplishing their several pursuits, and exploring the 
 secret springs of the operations which they manipulate.” — Morning Post. 
 
 “ Contains some good advice as to the choice of specimens for examination, with a 
 view of gaining an insight into the structure of plants and animals, and of turning 
 a pleasant amusement into an interesting study. The collected specimens of natu- 
 ral objects are carefully described and illustrated by plates on a magnified scale. 
 To such as are beginning the study, we can recommend this manual as a useful 
 guide.” — Economist. 
 
 Demy ^vo. price ^d. 
 
 The Mechanics of the Heavens ; 
 
 And the new Theories of the Sun’s Electro-Magnetic and Repulsive 
 Influence : a Paper submitted to the British Association, at Cam- 
 bridge, with Notes and Postscript. By James Reddie, Author of 
 Vis Inertige ; or, Fallacies affecting Science. 
 
 Demy Svo. 
 
 On Atmospheric Electricity. 
 
 By Reuben Phillips. 
 
■ f 
 
 8 Robert Hardwicke, 192, Piccadilly^ w. | 
 
 PUBLICATIONS OF THE BAY SOCIETY. 
 
 8yo. pp. 498. Printed for the year 1844, 75 . Qd. I 
 
 Reports on the Progress of Zoology and Botany. ! 
 
 Translated by H, E. Strickland, Jun., Esq., M.A., F.R.S; E. Lankester, 
 M.D., F.R.S. ; and W. B. Macdonald, Esq., B.A. | 
 
 Qvo. pp. 680. Printed for the year 1847, 7s. 6d. 
 
 Reports on the Progress of Zoology. i 
 
 Translated from the German by Geo. Busk, Esq., F.R.S. ; A. H. Haliday, 
 Esq. ; and Alfred Tulk, Esq. 
 
 8vo. pp. 414. Printed for the year 1849, 7s. 6d. 
 
 Repoi’ts and Papers on Vegetable Physiology, 
 and Botanical Geography. 
 
 Edited by A. Henfrey, Esq., F.R.S. Three plates. 
 
 10s. Qd. ' 
 
 Oken’s Elements of Physio-Philosophy. 
 
 Translated from the German by Alfred Tulk, Esq. 
 
 8yo. Vols. I. pp. 502 ; II. pp. 492 ; III. pp. 657 ; IV. pp. 604. ^4. | 
 
 Bibliographia Zoologiae et Geologise. 
 
 By Professor Agassiz, of Neufchatel. Edited by Hugh E. Strickland, Esq., 
 M.A., F.R.S. 
 
 Two plates. Svo.pp. 502, 7s, dd, 
 
 ' Letters of John Ray. 
 
 I Edited by E. Lankester, M.D., F.H.S. 
 
 i Sv0.pp.364. Is. 
 
 I British Entomostracous Crustacea. 
 
 A Monograph, with 36 plates (most of them coloured), of all the species of the. j 
 i By Dr. Baird, F.L.S. 
 
 i 87}0.pp.lOO. 10s. 6c?. 
 
 1 British Angiocarpous Lichens. 
 
 I A Monograph of the. With 30 coloured plates. By the Rev. W. A. Leighton, 
 j M.A. 
 
 • 8vo. Vol. I.pp. 400, \0 plates, l6s. ; Vol. II. pp. 684, 30 plates, sCl. 6s. 
 
 ! Cirripedia. 
 
 j A Monograph of the family. By C. Darwin, Esq., M.A., F.R.S. 
 
 I 8uo. pp. 568. 12s. 
 
 j Botanical and Physiological Memoirs. 
 
 Including Braun on Rejuvenescence in Nature, With 6 plates, coloured. 
 
Robert Hardwicke, 192, Piccadilly^ w. 
 
 9 
 
 Publications of the Ray Society— continued. 
 
 Imp. Ato.pp, 119. 11s. 6^/, 
 
 British Fresh-water Polyzoa. 
 
 A Monograph of the. By Professor Allman, F.R.S. With 11 plates (10 
 coloured). 
 
 Imp. Ato. pp. 102. ^6*1. lls. M. 
 
 Recent Foraminifera of Great Britain. 
 
 A Monograph of the. By Professor Williamson. With 7 plates. 
 
 Imp. Ato.pp. 141. ^l. 11s. 6d. 
 
 Oceanic Hydrozoa. 
 
 On the. By Professor Huxley, F.R.S. With 12 plates. 
 
 8vo.pp.230, /S. 6(1, 
 
 Memorials of John Ray. 
 
 Consisting of the Life of John Ray, by Derham ; the Biographical Notice of | 
 Bay, by Baron Cuvier and M. Dupetit Thouars, in the Biographe Univer- j 
 selle ; Life of Ray, by Sir J. E. Smith; the Itineraries of Ray, with Notes by [ 
 Messrs. Babington and Yarrel, Edited by Edw'in Lankester, M.D., ! 
 
 F,R.S. Frontispiece. 
 
 8vo.pp.494. Is. Gd, 
 
 Reports and Papers on Botany. 
 
 Consisting of Translations from the German ; translated by W. B. Macdonald, 
 Esq., B.A.; G. Busk, Esq., F.R.S.; Arthur Henfrey, Esq., F.R.S.; and | 
 J. Hudson, Esq., B.M, Seven plates. I 
 
 j Svo.pp.422. 10s. 6d. i 
 
 i Meyen’s Geograpliy of Plants. I 
 
 1 Translated from the German by Miss Margaret Johnston. | 
 
 j Imp. 4to, pp. 136, 15s. 
 
 i Burmeister on the Organization of Trilobites. 
 
 j With 6 plates ; translated from the German, and edited by Professors Bell and 
 
 E. Forbes. * 
 
 j Imp. 4to. ^1. Is. 
 
 j A Synopsis of the British Naked-eyed Pnlino- 
 ! grade Medusas. 
 
 I With 13 coloured plates, drawings of all the species, by Professor E. Forbes, 
 
 I F.R.S. 
 
 I British Nudibranchiate Mollusca. 
 
 I A Monograph of the (with coloured drawings of every species). By Messrs. 
 
 Alder and Hancock. 
 
 Part I. Imp, Ato. ^'“1 10 0 
 Part II.* 1 10 0 
 
 ,, III. 1 10 0 
 
 ^ ,, IV. 1 10 0 
 
 * The Second 
 
 Part V. 
 
 ,, VI. 
 
 „ vn. 
 
 Part is now reorinted. 
 
 
 10 0 
 1 1 0 
 1 1 0 
 
10 Robert Hardwicke, 192, Piccculilly^ w. 
 
 Publications of the Ray Society— continued. 
 
 Folio, price 115. 6rf. 
 
 The British Spiders. 
 
 A History of the Spiders of Great Britain and Ireland. By John Bl.ickwall, 
 F.L.S. Part I. with 110 Examples, coloured by hand. 
 
 hi 1 voL imp. 4to. pp. SlQ, with 22 Plates ^1. 11s. 6d. 
 
 Introduction to the Study of the Fora- 
 minifera. 
 
 By W. B. Carpenter, M.D., F.R.S., F.L.S. , &c. ; assisted by W. K. Parker, 
 Esq., and T. Rupert Jones, Esq., F.G.S. 
 
 In 1 voU 8uo. cloth, pp. 50d, ivith Qb Plates. ^T. 55 . Qd. 
 
 On the Germination, Development, and Fruc- 
 tification of the Higher Cryptogamia, and 
 on the Fi’uctification of the Coniferac. 
 
 By Dr. Wilhelm Hofmeister. Translated by Frederick Currey, 
 F.R.S., Sec. L.S. 
 
 Crown ^vo. cloth, price 7 s. Qd.,ivith Illustrations from Nature by 
 Tvffen West. 
 
 On Diseases of the Kidney and 
 
 By S. J. Goodfellow, M.D., F.R.C.P., Physician to the Middle- 
 ! sex Hospital. 
 
 I “A whole profession is elevated when such creditable works are produced by any 
 j one of its members .” — DobelVs Lectures. 
 
 ! “ The work cannot fail to prove exceedingly instructive, either to the student or 
 
 to those members of the profession who have not had an opportunity of keeping up 
 their knowledge of the various discoveries which have been made of late years in renal 
 I pathology and therapeutics. ... A very good digest of all that is known of any 
 practical value upon the subject ; and at the same time forms an excellent guide to 
 enable the practitioner to discriminate the different forms of ‘ Bright’s disease ’ 
 j during life, and thereby put him in a position to conduct the treatment on the 
 soundest principles .” — Glasgow Medical Journal. 
 
 ) “To the student who desires to know what possible or presumable explanations 
 
 i can at present be suggested of the origin of the various units in the complex series of 
 morbid states therein included. Dr. Goodfellow’s work may be recommended.” — 
 Lancet. 
 
 ! “ We cannot but recommend it strongly to the profession as the result of 
 
 thoroughly conscientious hard work, embodied in a form very interesting to the 
 I intelligent reader .” — London Medical Review. 
 
Robert Hardwicke, 192 , Piccadilly^ ay. 11 
 
 Demy Svo, price bs. 
 
 j Prevention of Consumption 
 
 (Practical Observations on tlie) ; with Statistical Tables of the 
 Prevalence of the Disease, and of the comparative Salubrity of 
 various Places. By John Hogg, M.D. 
 
 “ Dr. Hogg appears to have bestowed much attention and thought much upon 
 the causes and hygienic treatment of pulmonary tuberculosis. He strives to show 
 that whilst deep and earnest study has been devoted to the etiology and pathology of 
 the disease, to the nature and quality of tubercle, to the composition of the blood and 
 ■ of all the secretions of the body, its preventive treatment has not engaged the atten- 
 fj tion of physiologists as much as the importance of the subject demands. Dr. Hogg’s 
 ■j work will afford the inquirer much valuable statistical information, and many hygienic 
 hints in connection with pulmonary tuberculosis.” — Lancet. 
 
 Croivn ^vo. cloth, price 2s. GcZ. 
 
 The Gastric Regions, and the Vic- 
 tualling Department. 
 
 ‘ By An Old Militia Surgeon. The whole outward and inward 
 
 j man, from the crown of his head to the corns on his little toes, all 
 
 j tell the sad tale of the Gastric Regions^ Wrongs. 
 
 , “ This is a most useful, and by no means a dull or heavy book. . . . The Old 
 
 Militia Surgeon gives some most useful advice, in a pleasant practical manner, 
 respecting different varieties of food and their effects upon the system.” — Observer. 
 
 I “ It is a treatise full of sense and reason, and well worth reading and study.” — 
 I Weekly Dispatch. 
 
 “ A capital chapter on what to eat and drink.” — Atlas. 
 
 “A copy of this little volume would be a very appropriate companion to the 
 Manual of Drill, which is, of course, the vade-mecum of every rightly-constituted 
 rifleman.” — United Service Gazette, 
 
 8 ? 50 . 2 ^. 
 
 The Health of the Royal Navy 
 Considered. 
 
 In a Letter to the Right Hon. Sir John S. Pakington, Bart., by 
 Gavin Milroy, M.D., F.R.C.P., Medical Inspector under the Board 
 of Health from 1849 to 1854, Medical Commissioner to Jamaica in 
 1851, and Member of the Sanitary commission to the Army in the 
 East in 1855-56. 
 
12 Egbert Hardwicke, 192, Piccadilly, w. 
 
 Fcap. %vo. cloth, price I5. | 
 
 The Influence of Railway Travel- I 
 ling on Publie Health. 
 
 From the Lancet. | 
 
 We strongly recommend the work to all who are connected with the manage- 
 ment of railways, or in the habit of travelling by them. The mass of evidence goes j 
 to prove that whilst the actual danger of life in travelling by rail is comparatively ' 
 small, that to health is, from various causes, considerable. But for the discussion 
 of these and their remedies,, we must refer the reader to the book itself.” — Dispatch. , 
 
 I Bound in Leather. 
 
 j ' 
 
 Mangnali’s (Questions, Complete, Is. I 
 
 The Cheap Edition of this valuable School Book is now ready. It | 
 has been carefully revised and brought up to the present time. It i 
 is well printed and strongly bound. | 
 
 “ Published in a compact form, neatly bound, and being condensed without being i 
 abridged, comes before us in a greatly-improved form. Few books contain so much 
 information in so small a space.” — Portsmouth Guardian. ! 
 
 “A new edition, published at a small cost, of one of the best of our standard 
 school-books; abridged from the general work, but not rendered less useful, as the I 
 curtailment has not decreased the number of questions, but merely got rid of super- j 
 fiuous descriptions.” — Plymouth Herald. j 
 
 “A most useful book for adults to refresh their memory. The present edition | 
 has been brought down to the present time, and includes a short biography of the 1 
 Duke of Wellington, Sir Robert Peel, Lord Raglan, and others.” — Portsmouth 
 Times. 
 
 “This popular school-book is here presented in a condensed rather than an 
 abridged form, and with many marked improvements, at the low price of Is. ; it w'ill i 
 no doubt come into general use.” — Kent Herald. ! 
 
 “ ‘ MangnaU’s Questions,’ arranged as they are here, form one of the most useful | 
 school-books we have seen.” — Sherborne Journal. \ 
 
 “ A very good edition.” — Cambridge Chronicle. j 
 
 “ To those engaged in tuition, and to many others, the work will be found i 
 highly useful.” — Windsor Express. ! 
 
 “ To praise this work is superfluous, since its merits are so widely known. The. j 
 present edition is well got up in every respect.” — Shrewsbury Journal. I 
 
 “ This is a cheap and improved edition of a valuable manual, for which we predict j 
 a decided preference over many other rudimental educational works of this class. An ' 
 exceedingly welcome companion to all intrusted with the office of tutor.” — Taunton \ 
 Courier. ‘ 
 
 “ ‘ Mangnall’s Questions ’ are amongst the most familiar and well-worn steps to j 
 knowledge. The edition issued by Mr. Hardwicke shows a reduction in bulk, but has | 
 been augmented in comprehensiveness.” — Brighton Examiner, ! 
 
 “ ‘ Mangnall’s Questions ’ have long since taken their place in the middle-class I 
 schools of the country, and the only ground on which they can ever be ejected is, that i 
 the lapse of time renders them defective or obsolete. Continued and careful editor- 
 ship is therefore necessary ; and this editorship the present edition has received.” — | 
 
 Sunderland Times. j 
 
Robert Hardwicke^ 192, Piccadilly^ w. 
 
 13 
 
 8^;o. price 1^. 
 
 Vegetable Cfiareoal. 
 
 Its Medicinal and Economic properties, with practical remarks on 
 its use in chronic affections of the Stomach and Bowels. By James 
 Bird, M.R.C.S. 
 
 Hardwieke’s Elementaiy Books. 
 
 PRICE TWOPENCE EACH. 
 
 Under the above title is presented to the Public a complete Library 
 of Elementary Works adapted for the use of the People. 
 
 Thousands of people at present skilled as handicraftsmen, and as 
 workers in the various arts and sciences of life, work from day to day, 
 plodding on with some vague notion that they can improve their own par- 
 ticular calling ; but it generally ends in nothing, because they are ignorant 
 of the first principles of those laws which regulate the things in which they 
 are engaged. It is a very rare occurrence to meet with workmen who know 
 anything beyond what they picked up in their apprenticeship, or obtained 
 by imitating others more skilled than themselves. 
 
 It will be the aim of Hardwicke’s Elementary Books to teach 
 these first principles. 
 
 No labour or expense will be spared to make the information of a 
 thoroughly reliable character ; and, where advisable, a free use of authentic 
 illustrations will be brought to bear. 
 
 NOW BEADY:— 
 
 Mechanics. 
 
 The principles of ]\rechanics and the elements of Machinery. Containing : — 
 Action and reaction — Aerolites — Air, compressed, power — Atmosphere, resistance 
 of — Balance — Balloon, gravitation of — Central forces — Centrifugal force — Com- 
 pound machinery — Cord, multiplied— Cordage, rigidity of — Curved surfaces — 
 Curvilinear motions — Earth, gravitative attraction of — Elasticity — Endless screw 
 — Equilibrium, or rest — Forces, composition of, parallelogram of — Fly-wheels — 
 Friction — Friction-wheels — Fulcrum, the — Gravitation, laws of — Gravity, centre 
 of — Heat as a moving power — Impulse — Inclined Planes — Levers, system of — 
 Machinery, compound — Materials, strength of— Mechanical powers — Mobility — 
 Momentum — Motion, accelerated, in curves, on inclined planes, oscillatory, rela- 
 tive, retarded, various kinds of — Moving bodies — Multiplied cord — Oblique action 
 — Orbits, motion of bodies in — Oscillatory motion — Pendulums, compensating, 
 oscillation of, relative lengths of — Percussion, centre of — Planes, inclined — Power, 
 or impulse — Powers, mechanical, moving — Projection of bodies upward — Pulley, 
 the — Pulleys, system of — Resistance — Scales — Screw, the— Stability — Steelyard 
 — Strength of animals, of man, of materials — Treadwheel — Universal joint — 
 Velocity, accelerated, of falling bodies, of moving bodies — Wedge, the — Weight 
 — Wheel and axle, and pinion, fly, friction — Whirling motion of liquids — and 
 much more useful information. Fully illustrated by nearly 100 cuts. Two 
 parts, 2d. each ; complete, 4d. ; bound in cloth, 6d. 
 
14 Robert Hardwicke, 192, Piccadilly^ w. 
 
 Hydrostatics. 
 
 Fully illustrated. Complete, 2d. ; in cloth, 4d. Containing : — Aqueducts — 
 Artesian wells — Ball-cock of cisterns — Bellows, hydrostatic — Bramah’s press — 
 Buoyancy of solids — Canals, navigable — Capillary attraction — Compression of 
 liquids— Density of liquids — Displacement — Diving— Elasticity — Flotation — Hy- 
 drometers — Hydrostatic balance, bed, bellows, press, pressure — Human body, 
 specific gravity of — Levels, Survey — Liquids, compression of, elasticity of, lateral 
 pressure of, pressure of, properties of, weight of — Locks, canal — Machines for raising 
 water — Naval architecture — Press, hydrostatic — Pressure, hydrostatic, lateral — 
 Pumps — Rain — Rain-gauge — Screw, in ships — Ships, iron, flotation of — Specific 
 gravity — Specific gravities, tables of — Spirit-level — Springs, artesian — Subterra- 
 neous lakes and reservoirs — Swimming,* art of — Siphon, the — Water- camel, falls, 
 hammer, shed — Waterworks, ornamental — Weight of liquids — Wells — and other 
 useful information. 
 
 Chemistry. 
 
 Three Parts, 2d. each ; complete, fid. ; cloth, 8d. An introduction to Chemistry, 
 
 : including a popular summary of animal and vegetable physiology, accompanied 
 
 by various chemical tables, with numerous illustrations. Containing ; — Acids — 
 j Albumen — Alcohol — Alkaloids — Atomic theory — Attraction, chemical — Bases — 
 
 Binary compounds— Carbon — Chemical affinity— Clays — Classification of metals — { 
 
 Colouring metals — Combustion — Divisibility of matter — Elective attraction — 
 Electro-chemistry — Elementary bodies — Elements — Fermentation — Fixed oils — 
 
 ■ Forms of matter — Gaseous combinations — Hydrogen — Intermediate Elements — 
 
 Life — Matter— Nitrogen — Nomenclature — Oils and fat — Organization — Oxidation 
 I — Oxygen — Primary compounds — Products of fermentation — Proximate elements 
 
 i — Salts — Simple substances — Specific gravities, tables of— Spontaneous combus- 
 
 tion — Starch — Theory of the Ethers — Vegetable acids, &c. &c. — and other very 
 useful information. 144 closely but clearly printed pages. Fully illustrated. 
 
 I Hydraulics. 
 
 j Fully Illustrated. Complete, 2d.; cloth, 4d, 
 
 j Oj3tics. 
 
 i Fully Illustrated. Two parts, 2d. each ; complete, 4d. ; cloth, fid. i 
 
 ! Other Works of a similar character are in preparation, and will 
 I shortly he announced. 
 
 I INTENDED FOR SCHOOLS OR SELF-INSTRUCTION. 
 
 ! Mackenzie’s Educational Books. 
 
 ALREADY PUBLISHED. 
 
 Mackenzie's Tables. 
 
 Commercial, Arithmetical, Miscellaneous, and Artificers’. Calculations in 
 Bricklaying, Carpentery, Lathing, Masonry, Paper-hanging, Paving, Planting, 
 Plastering, Slating, Tiling, Well-sinking, Digging, &c. &c. Fractions and 
 Decimals. Forms of Receipts and Bills. Calculations on Man, Steam, Rail- 
 1 ways. Power, Light, Wind, &c. Language and Alphabets. Calendar of the 
 
 1 Church. Scripture Money. Principal Foreign Moneys and Measures. Geo- 
 
 ■ graphical and Astronomical Tables, &c. &c. Complete, price 2d, 
 
 j Murray^s English Grammar. 
 
 I Complete, word for word with the Shilling Editions. Price 2d. 
 
 i 
 
Robert Hardwicke, 192, Piccadilly^ w. 15 
 
 Mavor^s Spelling. ^ 
 
 With numerous Cuts. Price Ad,^ or 2 parts 2d. each, 
 
 Walkinghame^s Arithmetic. 
 
 Same as the Half-crown Edition. Price Ad., or 2 parts 2d. each. 
 
 Short- Hand. 
 
 With Phrases and Exercises, to gain facility in the use of all the characters, by 
 which perfection may soon be attained. Complete, price 2d. 
 
 Phrenology 
 
 Explained and Exemplified. Complete, price 2d, 
 
 Bookkeeping 
 
 By Single Entry, with explanations of Subsidiary Books, being a useful system 
 for the Wholesale and Retail Shopkeeper. Complete, price 2d. 
 
 Price 2s. Illustrated hy Diagrams and Samplars. 
 
 Method for Teaching Plain Needle- 
 work in Schools. 
 
 By a Lady. 
 
 It is a constant source of complaint that servants know not how to work well at 
 their needle, and those who visit their poorer neighbours lament the total ignorance 
 in this respect ; many cannot cut out or make even so simple an article as a child’s 
 pincloth. Many causes combine to produce this result ; the almost universal plan of 
 allowing children to remain in the same order for needlework as for the reading and 
 other lessons, is one great reason why girls make so little progress. It is a custom 
 also in some schools to employ the girls only in some one branch in which they may 
 happen to succeed best ; a few only doing all the gathering ; some all the stitch- 
 ing ; others all the button-holes; and so on. The work thus done, of course, brings 
 credit both to the school and to the mistress ; but the child who can hem-stitch a fine 
 cambric pocket-handkerchief at school, cannot, when she returns home in the evening 
 give her parents any practical proof of the value of the instruction she has received, 
 for she can neither make their shirts nor mend their stockings. 
 
 We often hear that a school was at one time noted for its superior needlework, but 
 that succeeding mistresses have not kept it up to the same standard. Such would 
 not be the case if a regular system were observed. It is rarely the custom in schools 
 in this age, to teach the children to fix and prepare their own work, — a short-sighted 
 policy ; for the want of this knowledge not only entails much additional labour on the 
 mistress, but makes the children comparatively useless away from school. 
 
 This useful method is based on steps which are gradual, well-defined, and clear 
 to Cat perception. It is calculated to insure the improvement of each individual child, 
 and, while it offers the necessary instruction to the less talented pupil, it enables the 
 more clever one to attain the highest degree of perfection. 
 
 Limp cloth, Is. ; Bound in Leather, with coloured Maps^ Is. 6t7. ; 
 in paper, without Maps, ^d. 
 
 A Manual of Geography. 
 
 Being a Description of the Natural Features, Climate, and Produc- 
 tions of the various regions of the Earth. By Francis Morton, C.E. 
 
16 Kobert Hardwicke, 192 , Piccadilly, w. 
 
 STANDARD WORKS 
 
 By E. WALFOED, M.A., 
 
 Balliol College y Oxford; Fellow of the Genealogical and Historical 
 Society of Great Britain, 
 
 PUSXiXSHBB 
 
 The Shilling Peerage. 
 
 Containing an Alphabetical List of the House of Lords, together 
 with the date of the creation of each Title ; the birth, accession, and 
 marriage of each Peer; his heir apparent or presumptive, family 
 name, political bias and patronage ; as also a brief notice of the offices 
 which he has hitherto held, his town address, country residences, &c. 
 
 The Shilling Baronetage. 
 
 Containing an Alphabetical List of the Baronets of England, Scot- 
 land, Ireland, and Great Britain, and the date of creation of each 
 Title ; with a short Biographical Notice of the birth, succession, 
 marriage, and family connections of each individual ; the patronage 
 at his disposal, the offices and appointments which he has hitherto 
 held, and his address in town and country. A List of Baronetcies 
 in order of precedence has been added. 
 
 The Shilling Knightage. 
 
 Containing an Alphabetical List of all the Knights of the United 
 Kingdom, and the date of creation of each Title ; with a short Bio- 
 graphical Notice of the birth, marriage, and family connections of 
 each individual ; the patronage at his disposal, the offices and ap- 
 pointments which he has hitherto held, and his address in town and 
 country. 
 
Egbert Hardwicke, 192 , Piccadilly^ sw. 
 
 17 
 
 The Shilling House of Commons. 
 
 Containing an Alphabetical List of the Members of Parliament, and 
 of the places which they represent ; with a short Biographical Notice 
 of fhe birth, marriage, and family connections of each Member ; his 
 political bias and patronage, a brief list of the offices and appoint- 
 ments w’hich he has hitherto held, and his address in town and 
 country. To which is added, a List of the late and present Ministry, 
 and of her Majesty’s Privy Council. 
 
 Puhlished Annually, Second Year of publication ; Price £\, 165-. 
 
 The County Families of the United 
 
 Or, Royal Manual of the Titled and Untitled Aristocracy of 
 Great Britain and Ireland, containing a brief notice of the Descent, 
 Birth, Marriage, Education, and Appointments of each Person, his 
 Heir Apparent or Presumptive, as also a Record of the Offices which 
 he has hitherto held, together with his Town Address and Country 
 Residences. By Edward Walford, M.A., late Scholar of Balliol 
 College, Oxford, and Fellow of the Genealogical and Historical 
 Society of Great Britain. 
 
 “We find in this most convenient handbook the living representatives of those 
 who have earned rank for themselves and for their descendants. We have records of 
 the military or naval services in the titles of Wellington, Marlborough, Howden, 
 Amherst, Anglesey, Cadogan, Charleraont, Cathcart, Dartmouth, Dorchester, Gardner, 
 
 I Gough, Hardinge, Harris, Hill, Huntly, Keane, Powis, Raglan, Seaton, Stamford, 
 i Stanhope, Stratford, Vivian, Nelson, St. Vincent, Camperdown, De Saumarez, Hood, 
 
 ; Exmouth, Hawke, Mulgrave, and Sandwich. Official services are represented by 
 Clifford, Albemarle, Dunfermline, Sidmouth, Congleton, Glenelg, Holland, Lauder- 
 dale, Monteagle, Onslow, Oxford, Melville, Ripon, Salisbury, Shannon, and Sydney, 
 i Success in commerce and trade is represented in Fitzwilliam, Leigh, Petre, Darnley, 
 
 , Carrington, Overstone, Leeds, Craven, Greville, Radnor, Ducie, Pomfret, Tankerville, 
 Dormer, Coventry, Romney, Dudlow, Dacres, and Ashburton. Political services have 
 elevated Lowther and Massareene ; diplomatic services, Berwick, Cowdey, Durham, 
 Malmesbury, Granville, Harrington, Heytesbury, Rivers, and Stratford de Redcliffe. 
 The fortunate lawyers have contributed Tenterden, Thurlow, Eldon, Plunket, Redes- 
 dale, Rosslyn, Walsingham, Campbell, Stratheden, St. Leonards, Lyndhurst, Truro, 
 Ellenborough, North, Hardwicke, Cottenham, Cowper, Kenyon, Lovelace, Man- 
 I Chester, and Manners. The ‘ Romance of the Peerage’ is w’ritten in titles such as 
 I these. The mercer, the skinner, and the silk-merchant, the merchant tailor, the 
 draper, the wool-stapler, the cloth-worker, the Calais or Cheapside merchant, the 
 banker, the jeweller, the goldsmith, and the apothecary (Smithson), like the gallant 
 admiral, the general, and the gentlemen of the long robe or of red tape, have, wffien 
 enterprising and energetic, founded noble families .” — Literary Gazette, 
 
 “ It possesses advantages which no other work of the kind that we know^ of has I 
 offered hitherto. Containing all that is to be found in others, it furnishes information 
 respecting families of distinction which are not to be found in the latter. It will prove i 
 to be invaluable in the library and drawing-room.” — Spectator. i 
 
 “ To produce such a work in the perfection which characterizes ‘ County Families,* | 
 
 must have been an almost Herculean task. It is sufficient for us to say that accuracy ! 
 even in the minutest details appears to have been the aim of Mr. W’alford, and the I 
 errors are so few and slight, that they may readily be passed over .” — Weekly j 
 Register. | 
 
18 Robert Hardwicke, 192 , Piccadilly^ ay. 
 
 Royal 16mo. price 16^. 
 
 Electoral Representation of the 
 United Kingdom. 
 
 From the Reform Bill down to the year 1855 ; arranged in tabular 
 Form, showing the state of the Representation of each County and 
 Borough during that period. 
 
 Royal Z2mo. price l^. 
 
 How to Address Titled People. 
 
 Companion to the Writing-desk ; or, How to Address, Begin, 
 and End Letters to Titled, and Official Personages, together with 
 Tables of Precedence, copious list of Abbreviations, Rules for Punc- 
 tuation, and other useful information. 
 
 ‘‘A word, and more than a word, of praise is due to the Companion to the 
 Writing-Desk. Full information on every subject of importance to correspondents is 
 afforded in it. The instructions on official points will not fail to be of importance to 
 many persons unable to obtain the proper information from even much larger works 
 of the same kind .” — Court Journal. 
 
 “ This is one of the most useful little books we have for a long time seen.” — Era, 
 
 This is a capital shilling’s worth— useful, elegant, indispensable. For young 
 authors it will prove an able and reliable guide .” — Weekly Chronicle. 
 
 “A book which every one wants sometimes — some persons often .” — Wesleyan 
 Times. 
 
 “This pretty little volume, admirably printed, contains as much information on 
 the subjects comprised within the scope indicated by the title-page as could well be 
 condensed into so petit a form, and we have no doubt it will lie with many a carefully- 
 concealed but often-consulted copy of ‘ Johnson for, somehow, people do not like 
 to acknowledge the necessity for referring to works of this class. There are few who 
 do not sometimes feel the want of a book of this kind at hand .” — Penny Newsman. 
 
 j Demy 8t;o. cloth, with Illuminated Frontispiece, price 6s. 
 
 Mr. Planche’s Work on Heraldry. With more than 200 Illustrations 
 from the most authentic sources. 
 
 Heraldry founded on Facts. 
 
 Or, The Pursuivant of Arms, by J. R. Planche, Rouge Croix. 
 
 Second edition, with additional Notes and Illustrations. 
 
 “We welcome this volume as one of the many signs of an extending conviction 
 ( of the practical utility of an acquaintance with early heraldry. It is an attempt to 
 I separate the chaff from the wheat, and to arrive at a knowledge of the usage of armo- 
 rials from facts only ; discarding not only the fancies and puerile conceits of Gerard 
 Legh, and those of the same school, both in past and present times, but also such as 
 are found in the Book of St. Alban’s, and the less imaginative treatises of Upton and 
 De Bado Aureo. An excellent design is this, and well worthy of being fully carried 
 ' into execution .” — Journal of the Archceological Institute. 
 
Robert Hardwicke, 192, Piccadilly^ w. 19 
 
 Second Edition, demy ^vo. iwice 2^. 
 
 An Essay on Heraldry. 
 
 By Jacob Frederick Y. Mogg, Member of the British ArchseO' 
 logical Association. 
 
 Royal 32mo. yrice H. 
 
 Crown ^ro, price 5s. 
 
 The Common Sense of the Water 
 Cure. 
 
 A Popular Description of Life and Treatment at a Hydropathic 
 Establishment. By Captain J. H. Lukis, late of the 61st Regiment, 
 and the North Durham Militia. 
 
 ‘‘ We have seldom read a more amusing book than this. Capt. Lukis is a clever 
 well-bred gentleman, who has found the greatest pleasure of his life in the strict dis- 
 cipline of hydropathy, and in this volume he chats pleasantly about his own expe- 
 riences, and puts in a very popular form the chief arguments in favour of the water 
 cure. There is not a dull page in the book .” — Morning Herald, 
 
 Fcap. cloth, price 6s. 
 
 Waste Products and Undeveloped 
 Substances ; 
 
 Or, Hints for Enterprise in Neglected Fields. By P. L. Simmonds, 
 Author of “ Products of the Vegetable Kingdom,” &c. 
 
 “As mere reading, the Volume is interesting and instructive; but we must go 
 further, and say there are fortunes to be got out of it by those who rightly work some 
 of its suggestions.” — Builder. 
 
 “ A very useful and instructive volume, it shows to how great an extent substances 
 considered as waste or useless may be turned to good account.” — Observer. 
 
 “ Altogether an admirable little volume, perspicuously and tersely written, and 
 will make many who read it open their eyes with wonder at the neglected wealth 
 which surrounds them, and at the carelessness of mankind in neglecting it.”— 
 News. 
 
 “ An extremely interesting and useful volume.” — Standard. 
 
 New Edition, folio, fully illustrated, price 12^. 
 
 Country Cottages. 
 
 A Series of Designs for an Improved Class of Dwellings for 
 Agricultural Labourers. By John Vincent, Architect. With 
 numerous Plans, Elevations, &c. 
 
20 Egbert Hardwicke, 192, Piccadilly^ w. 
 
 Crown 8^;o. price 65. 
 
 Our Social Bees. 
 
 I Pictures of Town and Country, and other Papers. By 
 
 I Andrew Wynter, M.D. 
 
 i Contents : — The Post-office. — London Smoke. — Mock Auctions. — 
 
 I Hyde Park. — The Suction Post. — St. George and the Dragon. — The 
 India-rubber Artist. — Our Peck of Dirt. — The Artificial Man. — 
 
 I Britannia^s Smelling-bottle. — The Hunterian Museum at the College of 
 1 Surgeons. — A Chapter on Shop Windows. — Commercial Grief. — 
 
 I Orchards in Cheapside. — The Wedding Bonnet. — Aerated Bread. — The 
 German Fair. — Club Chambers for the Married. — Needle-making. — 
 Preserved Meats. — London Stout. — Palace Lights, Club Cards, and 
 i Bank Pens. — The Great Military Clothing Establishment at Pimlico. 
 — Thoughts about London Beggars. — Wenham Lake Ice. — Candle 
 Making. — Woman^s Work. — The Turkish Bath. — The Nervous System 
 of the Metropolis. — Who is Mr. Reuter.^ — Our Modern Mercury. — 
 The Sewing Machine. — The Times^ Advertising Sheet. — Old Things by 
 New Names. — A Suburban Fair. — A Fortnight in North Whales. — The 
 i Aristocratic Rooks. — The Englishman Abroad. — A Gossip about the 
 I Lakes. — Sensations of a Summer Night and Morning. — Physical 
 i Antipathies. — The Philosophy of Babydom. — Brain Difficulties. — 
 
 ! Human Hair. 
 
 : “ The papers are treated in such a manner as to form not merely an interesting, 
 
 : but an instructive contribution to the stock of popular literature, and the volume is 
 , therefore a welcome contribution to our current literature.” — Observer. 
 
 ” The ‘ Curiosities of Civilization’ contained so many amusing and important 
 details, that a second selection will be accepted at once with the utmost gratification 
 by the many readers who have already been fascinated oy Dr. Wynter’s agreeable 
 style, and the characteristic details of men and manners by which he has rendered his 
 name popular. Sometimes the first dish is more palatable than the second, — the 
 newest entremet serving to take off the pleasant taste of its predecessor. In this 
 instance it is not so, since Dr. Wynter has kept back the better portion for a second 
 course.” — BelVs Weekly Messenger. 
 
 ” Crowded with facts and sparkling with fancy ; written in a cheerful and philo- 
 sophic spirit. The writer is never unapproachable in his ideal, but shrewd, sensible, 
 and thoughtful in his mode of narration and in his way of marshalling facts.” — 
 Literary Gazette. 
 
 “ On the whole, we prefer this volume as a book of amusement, and even in- 
 struction, to the ‘ Curiosities of Civilization,’ which has enjoyed a good name and 
 sale. Dr. Wynter is an accomplished and well-informed man ; he writes well, has 
 much to tell, and even his lightest sketches convey substantial thoughts or facts in 
 their delicate outlines. This volume contains more than forty papers gleaned from 
 first-rate periodicals. It would have been a literary loss had they not been so gathered 
 and preserved. Sometimes there is a quaiutness in some of the essays whidh recalls 
 the immortal Charles Lamb.” — Era. 
 
 I “ These papers are characterized by the same breadth of view, the same felicity 
 
 1 of language, the same acuteness of thought, which distinguished the ‘ Curiosities of 
 Civilization.’ So long as Dr. Wynter continues to write papers similar to those in the 
 volume before us, and in ‘ Curiosities of Civilization,’ so long will the republication of 
 those papers be welcomed by the public.” — Standard. 
 
lloBERT Hardwicke, 192 , Piccadilly^ w. 21 
 
 Sixth Edition^ Crown Svo. price 65. 
 
 Curiosities of Civilization. 
 
 Being Essays from the Quarterly and Edinburgh Reviews. By 
 Dr. Andrew Wynter. 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 The London Commissariat. 
 Food and its Adulterations. 
 Advertisements. 
 
 The Zoological Gardens. 
 Rats. 
 
 Woolwich Arsenal. 
 Shipwrecks. 
 
 Soldiers. 
 
 The Electric Telegraph. 
 
 Fires and Fire Insurance. 
 
 The Police and the Thieves. 
 Mortality in Trades and ProfeS' 
 
 Lodging, Food, and Dress of 
 
 sions. 
 
 Lunatic Asylums. 
 
 “ We shall look in vain, for example, two centuries back, for anything like an equiva- 
 lent to the volume before us. Some of the articles are mainly derived from observations 
 made in the course of professional studies ; others are at least cognate to the subjects 
 which occupy a physician’s hourly thoughts ; all are more or less instructive as to 
 certain phases of our civilization, and the strange elements it holds in suspension. 
 Some of the incidents are of unparalleled magnitude, quite as striking as anything 
 contained in the wonder-books of our ancestors.” — Times. 
 
 “ Dr. Wynter’s papers show that he has made deep researches, and that he 
 brings to bear upon them the acumen of a well-stored mind — a perfect kaleidoscopic 
 array of subjects.” — Morning JPost. 
 
 “ Dr. Wynter has both industry and skill. He investigates all branches of his 
 subjects, and tells us the result easily and unaffectedly. In short, a better book of 
 miscellaneous reading has not come under our notice for a long while.” — Daily News. 
 
 “ One of the most amusing and best-executed works of its kind that ever came ! 
 under our notice. Every subject that Dr. Wynter handies, even if it refers to scien- ; 
 tific matters, is ground down so very fine, that it is hardly competent to human 
 stupidity to fail to understand it.” — Saturday Review, : 
 
 “ These articles form a delightful inventory of facts, in which every reader has a 
 direct personal interest, for they are such as may or do affect him and his at every 
 moment of their lives, and collectively they form a very curious insight into the 
 anatomy of some parts of our civilization past and present. Seldom have the fruits of 
 so much labour been converted into more easy and pleasant leading.” — Spectator. 
 
 “ It would have been a pity if so much that is useful and entertaining had been ' 
 entombed in the pages of a review. The subject-matter was worthy of being put I 
 into a book, and we are glad that it is done.” — Illustrated News. 
 
 “The Essays are thirteen in number, and form a very delightful, instructive 
 j w’ork. It contains many good pictures of London life, and a knowledge of this 
 j gigantic metropolis scarcely surpassed by any modern writer.” — Fress. 
 i “Among the various Essays by eminent and brilliant writers, none surpass Dr. 
 
 I Wynter in instructiveness, amusing information, and easy cleverness of style. If 
 I any one ‘ wants to know ’ how our great Babylon is supplied, with unerring certainty 
 j and sound calculation, with food and drink, day after day and year after year ; how 
 I that food is systematically and universally doctored and adulterated ; how our i 
 j thieves operate, flourish, come to grief, and are affected by the police who are 
 employed to detect or capture them ; how men are slowly murdered by unhealthy 
 I trades, and ho^y the professions kill or keep alive their members ; how fires influence 
 I fire insurance, and fire insurance influences fires ; how and what sort of people dwell 
 I in lunatic asylums ; how many romantic and least-imagined things can be learnt by 
 I studying the shipwrecks which have occurred during the last few years ; how — but 
 ; we will stop, and simply add, that whoever wants fireside book this winter, rich in 
 I useful facts, and written in a manner clear, fascinating, and original, had better 
 I purchase Dr. Wynter’s Curiosities of Civilization.^’ — Blining Review. 
 
22 lioBERT Hardwicke, 192, Piccadilly^ av. 
 
 Beautifully printed in colours ^ price £\ , Is. 
 
 Enshrined Hearts. 
 
 Enshrined Hearts of Warriors and Illustrious People. By Emily 
 Sophia Hartshorne. With Illuminated Initials, and illustrated 
 with numerous Engravings on Wood, Armorial Bearings, &c. Ac. 
 
 400 pp.f crown Si?o. clothj fully illustrated^ price Ss. 
 
 Dr. Lankester on Food. 
 
 A Course of Lectures delivered i 
 By E. Lankester, M.D., F.R. 
 Part I., One Shilling, contains : 1 
 
 Water. 
 
 Salt. 
 
 Heat-givers — Oil, Butter, 
 Fat. 
 
 Flesh-formers — Animal Food. 
 
 t the South Kensington Museum. 
 1 ., F.L.S. 
 
 art II., Eighteenpence, contains : 
 
 Alcohol. 
 
 Wines, Spirits, and Beer. 
 Condiments and Spices. 
 
 Tea, Coffee, and Chocolate. 
 Tobacco and Opium. 
 
 “ Full of sound science, curious anecdote, and quaint illustration. Dr. Lankester 
 has a singular power of illustrative keenness ; and in the discursive lessons which he 
 delivers on so many subjects, there is an overflowing wealth of minute collateral infor- 
 mation which is always brought to the level of the last achievements of science.” — 
 Lancet. 
 
 “The lectures possess the great merit of being interesting. The information, 
 although it may be gathered from sources not inaccessible to those who will read for 
 themselves, is brought together and arranged with the intelligence of a man who 
 thoroughly understands and performs what he intends to do. The facts thus presented 
 gain an additional value by bearing the impress and sanction of his own opinions. 
 There is no pretence about these lectures. The style is clear and pleasant; and, for 
 a work of general information on a subject interesting to everybody, these Lectures 
 on Food will be useful and popular. They contain information which every one ought 
 to possess ; and there is skill shown in giving as much information as is necessary, 
 and no more than is desirable. Dr. Lankester has fulfilled the task he proposed to 
 himself with judgment and success.” — Athenoeum. 
 
 “ A volume such as this muse needs be one of the very best of its kind ; and it is 
 so. It is a work full of amusement and instruction. Dr. Lankester’s very suggestive 
 and interesting book leads us to forget both our limits and our time ; and we must 
 now' take lea\’e of it with a strong recommendation to readers of all classes to pur- 
 chase, peruse, and reperuse it at their best hours of leisure.” — Builder. 
 
 “ Dr. Lankester’s style is so facile and attractive, that we know of no writer more 
 capable of bringing dry subjects before the public mind in an acceptable form. Many, 
 therefore, w ho open this volume will be carried away by the pleasure of perusal into a 
 study of useful facts, which they little dreamt of troubling themselves about.” — Era. 
 
 “These admirable lectures w'ere delivered for the purpose of exhibiting, in a 
 popular form, the scientific principles by which the supply of food for man is regu- 
 lated ; and this they do in the clearest and most captivating manner possible, being 
 almost wholly free from technicalities, and giving useful directions, the reasonableness 
 of which is apparent at a glance. The book will be read with great pleasure even 
 where there is no idea of making any practical use of the information it contains ; 
 but, in the hands of the intelligent and thoughtful man it would be an invaluable 
 guide in matters of diet, enabling him to do much, under the Divine blessing, tow'ards 
 the preservation of his owm health, and towards the building up of his children in 
 strength and vigour.” — Patriot. 
 
Robert Hardwicke, 192 , Piccadilly ^ 23 
 
 350 jyjt?. crown Svo.f clothe fully illustrated, 2^rice 3^. 
 
 Dr. Lankester on the Uses of Animals 
 
 In Relation to the Industry of Man. By Edwin Lankester, 
 M.D., F.R.S. A Course of Six Lectures, delivered at the South 
 Kensington Museum. 
 
 Part I., One Shilling, contains : 
 Silk. 
 
 Wool. 
 
 Leather. 
 
 Bone. 
 
 Soap. 
 
 Waste. 
 
 Part II., Eighteenpence, contains : 
 Sponges and Corals. 
 ShELL-'FISH. 
 
 Insects. 
 
 Furs. 
 
 Feathers, Horns, and Hair. 
 Animal Perfumes. 
 
 “The information is presented in the most lucid, graceful, and entertaining 
 manner.” — Economist. 
 
 “Every one who peruses them will be grateful to the author. The history of those 
 creatures whose products become through man’s skill so useful to him, is given with 
 such charming feeling, that the interest of the reader is attracted and enchained, 
 whether he wills or no.” — Era. 
 
 “ They are written so plainly and pleasantly, that even children can understand 
 and profit by them ; and we can therefore strongly recommend them.”— CnYjc. 
 
 “The plan of Dr. Lankester is simple and philosophical. He first introduces us 
 to the animal, then what portion of it used for the manufacture described, and lastly 
 the manufacture is descrilDed.” — Atlas. 
 
 “ A fund of information of so attractive a character, as to captivate and enchain 
 the attention of even the most illiterate .” — Weekly Times. 
 
 “These lectures explain the nature and object of those animal products employed 
 in the uses of daily life in a popular and pleasing manner, and is accompanied by 
 numerous illustrations, which heighten the value of the book. It is a good book for 
 the young, and instructive to readers of all ages .” — City Press. 
 
 Price Is. ; Interleaved as Album, 2s. 6d., gilt edges. 
 
 A Hand Catalogue of Postage 
 Stamps for Colleetors. 
 
 By Dr. John Edward Gray, F.R.S. , F.L.S., &c., of the British 
 Aluseum. 
 
 Published, Annually. 
 
 Shilling Guide to London Chari- 
 ties. 
 
 Showing, in Alphabetical Order, the Name, Date of Foundation, Ad- 
 dress, Object, Annual Income, Number of People benefited. Mode 
 of Application to and Chief Officers of every Institution in London. 
 By Herbert Fry. 
 
24 IxoBEUT Hardwicke, 192, Piccadilly^ av. 
 
 Fcap. ^vo. cloth, price 3s. 6d. 
 
 Horse Warranty. 
 
 A Plain and Comprehensive Guide to the various Points to be noted, 
 showing which are Essential and which are Unimportant. With 
 Forms of Warranty. By Peter Howden, V.S. 
 
 An idea of the scope of this book will best be conveyed by reproducing a portion 
 of the Index to it, in which we find mention of Abrasions ; Age ; Aged Horses ; Ar- 
 tificial contraction ; Asthma ; Back, croker — chinked — cradle — high — hollow — low — 
 roach — saddle ; Bald places ; Bandages ; Bar-shoes ; Bastard strangles, or vives ; 
 Bearing rein ; Bent before; Biting; Bleeding; Blemishes; Blindness, total; Blood 
 spavin; Bolting— running away; Boots; Broken back; Canker; Capped hocks; 
 Chinked back ; Clambering ; Clinking— shovel and tongs — poker and tongs ; Coat- 
 staring; CocK-throttled ; Colds; Collar-wrung; Contraction, artificial; Corns; 
 Cough ; Cough, chronic ; Courage ; Cradle-back ; Crib-biting, Prevention of; Curbs; 
 Cutting; Daisy-cutting; Dealers — horses; Diet and exercise; Dishing; Dropping 
 before ; Dropping behind ; Dulness ; Eating beds ; Enlargements, soft ; Examina- 
 tion ; Exchange — swap; Exercise and diet ; Eyes, the — wall — white of; False quar- 
 ter; Feet, contracted — contraction of the — fever in the ; Firing; Fleshy heel ; Foot, 
 flat — perfect; Galls; Glanders; Grease; Groggy; Grunting; Hackneys; Harness, 
 quiet in ; Hard mouth ; Heel, fleshy; Heals, cracked; Height and age ; Herring- 
 gutted; High-back; Hip, low; Hips, high ; Hocks, Capped ; Hollow-back ; Hoofs, 
 open; Horse, the sound — aged — dealers’ — used — trial of; Hot w'ater; Humours; ‘ 
 Hunters ; Jibbing; Joints, enlarged — other diseases of ; Knees, the ; Knees, broken ; : 
 
 Swollen ; Knuckling; Lame ; Lameness ; Cunning ; Lampas ; Large barrel ; Leather 
 soles; Legs, swollen; Loins, narrow; Long pasterns; Long waist; Low action, or 
 daisy-cutting, or going near the ground ; Low-back; Low-hip; Malformation; I\Ie- 
 dicine; Mouth, the ; Narrow loins; Neck, vein; Nervousness; Open hoofs; Over- ! 
 reaching; Paralysis; Pasterns, long; Pigeon toed; Play — Playfulness; Poker and ’ 
 Tongs ; Price ; Pumice-sole ; Quiet in harness ; Rat-tail ; Rearing ; Receipts on ' 
 warranty; Rheumatism; Ring-bones; Roach-back; Roarings; Rumbling; Run- i 
 ning- away— bolting ; Saddle-back, Cradle-back, Hollow-back, Low-back; Sand- j 
 crack; Scars; Shoulders, upright; Shovel and Tongs; Shying; Sinews; Skit- i 
 kishness ; Soft enlargements ; Spavin, blood ; Bog; Spavins; Speedy-cry; Splents ; j 
 Staring-coat; Starting; Stiff hocks; Stopping; Strangles; String halt ; Stumbling; 
 Surfeit; Swap; Thorough pins; Thrushes; Trial, the ; Tucked up ; Turning; Un- ; 
 nerving; Upright joints— knuckling; Upright shoulders; Used Horses; Trial of; i 
 Vein, neck; Vices; Vives; Waist, long; Wall-eyes; Warranties, receipts on; 
 Warranty; Warranty, use of ; Washey ; Water; Water, hot; Weaving; Weaving, 
 cure of; Wens; Wheezirg; Whistling; White of Eyes; Wide behind; Wind, , 
 broken; Wind- sucking ; Windgalls ; Work; Wounds; Young Horses. 
 
 With IllustratiQns. Fcap. 8ro. cloth, price 2s. 6rZ. 
 
 Graceful Riding. 
 
 A Pocket Manual for Equestrians. By S. C. Waite. 
 
 “ In the school, on the road, on the course, or across country, this little book 
 wdll be invaluable ; and we heartily recommend it .” — Morning Post. 
 
 “ Contains avast number of useful directions and hints to all who wish to acquire 
 a sure and graceful seat and sure hand. The engravings are well executed and assist 
 the reader in understanding the letter-press.” — Field. 
 
 ” Designed to give the timid and nervous of both sexes instructions on the ma- 
 nagement of saddle horses and the proper mode of mounting and dismounting, 
 holding the reins, and such other advice as will be of great service to lady equestrians.” 
 — Press. 
 
 “Advice to ladies forms a separate and important part of Mr. Waite’s manual, 
 and is marked by a very great degree of good sense.” — Daitj/ News. 
 
lloBERT Hardwicke, 192, Piccadilly^ av. 25 
 
 Fcap. Svo. cloth, illustrated, price 2s. (id. 
 
 I The Foot and its Covering. 
 
 i With Dr. Camper^s work on The Best Form of Shoe,’^ translated 
 from the German. By James Dowie. 
 
 “ A very sensible treatise, by one who takes an artistic and scientific interest in 
 his subject, and who has evidently well studied the mechanical structure and action, 
 as well as the anatomy and physiology, of that wonderful concatenation of bones, 
 sinews, and muscles — the human foot.” — Builder. 
 
 “ To all pedestrians it must be an object to have an easy shoe, and in the present 
 day of universal military ardour and hebdomadal marchings out, this little contribu- 
 
 I lion may prove a useful adviser upon the subject.” — Lancet. 
 
 With coloured Frontispiece, Kino, cloth, gilt edges, price 2s. 6d. 
 
 Whist. 
 
 The Laws and Practice of Whist. By Cceeebs. As played at the 
 London Clubs. 
 
 “ It is just the book that was required. The intrinsic worth of the book is to be 
 found in the downright sensible practical advice contained throughout its pages, and 
 to the lover of whist we strongly recommend the volume.” — Field. 
 
 “ After our repeated commendations of this little work, we need only express our 
 opinion that it is, par excellence, the guide for every whist player. The laws laid 
 down having been adopted by the Army and Navy Club and other clubs of London, 
 as the court of appeal, sufficiently indicate their authority, and the public generally 
 may rely upon them with confidence.” — Era. 
 
 “ There is no doubt this is the best treatise upon the subject extant, because 
 modern play and the short game have added so much to the old lore, that Hoyle, and 
 even Mathews and Major A , are now quite antiquated.” — Critic. 
 
 I Crown ?>vo. cloth, with Illustrations by George Cruihshank, price 
 I 2s. (d. ; the Illustrations on India paper, price 5s. 
 
 I Peter Selilemihl. 
 
 i From the German of Adelbert Von Chamisso. Translated by 
 I Sir John Bowring, LL.D., &;c. 
 
 Fcap. Svo. cloth, price 5s. 
 
 Scargill’s Essays and Sketches. 
 
 Essays and Sketches. By the late William Pitt Scargill. 
 
Robert Hardwicke, 192, Piccadilly^ w. 
 
 2 6 
 
 Ttoyal 32mo. cloth ^ price I 5 . 
 
 Hardwicke’s Shilling Handy-Book 
 of London. 
 
 An Easy and Comprehensive Guide to Everything worth Seeing and 
 Hearing. 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Bazaars. 
 
 Ball-rooms. 
 
 Cathedrals. 
 
 Dining-rooms. 
 
 Exhibitions. 
 
 Mansions of Nobility. 
 
 Markets. 
 
 Money-order Offices. 
 Monuments and Statues. 
 Museums. 
 
 Music-halls and Concert-rooms. 
 Out- door Amusements. 
 
 Omnibuses. 
 
 Palaces. 
 
 Parks. 
 
 Passport Offices. 
 
 Picture Galleries’ Regulations. 
 Popular Entertainments. 
 Police-courts. 
 
 Prisons. 
 
 Railway Stations. 
 
 Steamboats. 
 
 Theatres. 
 
 Telegraph Offices, &c. 
 
 “ The title-page of this little pocket volume claims for it the praise due to an 
 easy and comprehensive guide to everything worth seeing and hearing in and around 
 the metropolis, and states that it is compiled from authentic sources and personal 
 inquiry. From the examination which we have been able to make of the little 
 brochure, this promise seems to be very fairly fulfilled ; and we cannot do better than 
 recommend this seasonable little manual to the waistcoat pockets of the sight-seers 
 who come up to London. There are sixteen neat illustrations to accompany the 
 letter-press of the volume.” — Critic. 
 
 “ A compendious and useful guide to the principal places of interest in and 
 around London. Excellent woodcuts have been added, to give completeness to this 
 volume.” — Atlas. 
 
 “ This is the most portable, complete, and the cheapest guide-book of London 
 that has ever been issued, and contains a brief account of every place that by any 
 courtesy can be called a lion of the metropolis, while the illustrations that accompany 
 so many of the descriptions, though small, have the rare advantage of being most 
 accurate representations .” — Era. 
 
 “ The foreigner or provincial visitor to the metropolis will find this cheap guide- 
 book as useful as anything pocketable could be for the purpose. Every place in 
 London and the vicinity that is worth seeing is here described, and made accessible by 
 the details of ways and means for getting to it.” — Globe. 
 
 ‘‘This book has a very proper title. In every sense of the word it is a handy 
 book — a book capable of doing what it professes to do, to guide its possessor to all 
 places of note in the great city of the world, London. All those who wish to see 
 London as it really is, should purchase it .” — City Press. 
 
IloBERT Hardwicke, 192, Picccidilly^ w. 
 
 2 
 
 Crown 8z;o. cloth^ 'price 7s. 6d, 
 
 Caste and Christianity. 
 
 A Looking-glass for the Times. By Temple Christian Faber. 
 
 “ The materials are drawn from an immense number of sources, and the ‘ Faber * 
 is an earnest and a zealous one.” — Standard, 
 
 “ Written with great eloquence and power .” — Educational Times. 
 
 Fcap. 8z70. price 3s. 6d. 
 
 Autobiography of a Working-man. 
 
 By Alexander Somerville, One who has whistled at the 
 plough.’^ 
 
 “ A book to be read with great interest, not merely as affording insights into 
 worlds which persons of the middle classes visit far too sparingly, but also as offering 
 I a picture of character. BIr. Somerville’s early life is attractive, as a piece of Scottish 
 I character and scenery worthy of its place in a national biography.” — Athencsum. 
 
 “ The well-known author of this work, who has attracted much public attention 
 and has acquired a well-merited reputation, has done the public a great service in 
 j publishing his Autobiography. It adds one, in the first part, to the many genuine 
 and affecting pictures we now possess of the difficulties with which the virtuous poor 
 j manfully struggle in order to bring up a family decently ; and it is full of rich instruc- 
 tion on the manner in which those difficulties that all share, knit the hearts of young 
 and old in one common bond of affection and virtuous help. Those who pretend to 
 pity such people should study the book, and learn from it how superior in dignity, 
 how far aboves^hem, elevated in manhood’s best virtues, are such cheerful, struggling, 
 virtuous. God-fearing families.” — Economist. 
 
 \3mo. price Is. illustrated . 
 
 Hints on the Formation of Local 
 Museums. 
 
 By the Treasurer of the Wimbledon Museum Committee. 
 
 Quarterly., lOi’. By authority. 
 
 The Official Bengal Army List, 
 
 Exhibiting the Rank, Standing, Dates of Commission, and present 
 Location of every Officer in the Bengal Army, as compiled in the 
 Adjutant- GeneraFs Office. 
 
j 28 Robert Hardwicke, 192, Piccadilly^ w. 
 
 POETRY. 
 
 Crown 8i’o., cloth^ price 65. 
 
 Poems, 
 
 Descriptive and Lyrical : Illastrations of the Beauties of Tropical 
 ; Scenery, and Sketches of Objects of Interest : with Notes, Historical 
 
 and Explanatory. By the Author of “ The Nuptials of Barcelona.’^ 
 
 Crown 8t’0. cloth^ price 5^. 
 
 The Season. 
 
 A Satire. By Alfred Austin. With Frontispiece of <‘the 
 Modern Muse ’’ by Thomas George Cooper. 
 
 Demy %vo. clothe bevelled edges, price 7s, 
 
 The Human Tragedy. 
 
 A Poem. By Alfred Austin, Author of “ The Season.’' 
 
 Crown Svo. cloth, price 6s, 
 
 Songs of Italy, 
 
 And other Poems. By Caroline Giffard Phillipson, 
 Authoress of “ Lonely Hours," Eva," “ Ethel Beranger," &c. 
 
 Just Published, Fcap. Svo., price 3s. 6d. 
 
 The Poet of the Age. 
 
 A Satirical Poem, with Introductory Remarks on the decline of 
 Poetry, and Critical Notes. 
 
 Fcap. 8vo. cloth, price 3^. 6d. 
 
 The World of Phantoms. 
 
 A Poem. 
 
Robert Hardwicke, 192, Piccadilly^ w. 29 
 
 Fcap. ^vo, cloth f price ?>s. ^d, 
 
 Bernard. 
 
 A Drama of the Year 1848. By Frederick Gundash Shaw. 
 
 * 
 
 Fcap. ^vo. price hs. 
 
 Pebbles and Shells. 
 
 By Elizabeth Wilmshurst French. 
 
 Fcap. 8270. price 3 s. 
 
 Fugitive Poems. 
 
 By Tristram. 
 
 8z70. cloth, price Is. (id. 
 
 The Buried Titan. 
 
 A Drama. By Franklin Leifchild. 
 
 Demy 'ivo. cloth, price 4 s. 
 
 Poems. 
 
 By Melanter. 
 
 Fcap. 82;o. price 3 s. 
 
 Poems. 
 
 By James Macfarlan. 
 
 Fcap. 8t’0. price 2 s. (id. 
 
 Poems. 
 
 By An Architect. 
 
30 
 
 Kobert Hardwicke, 192, Piccadilly^ w. 
 
 Price 25. 6f?., Illustrated hy the Best Artists. 
 
 THE 
 
 POPULAR SCIENCE REVIEW, 
 
 A QUARTERLY MISCELLANY OF 
 
 ENTERTAINING & INSTRUCTIVE ARTICLES on SCIENTIFIC SUBJECTS. 
 
 Edited by JAMES SAMUELSON. 
 
 This periodical does not partake of the character of the abstruse 
 ^‘Quarterlies/^ or the “ Transactions^’ of Scientific Societies ; nor is it, on 
 the other hand, framed simply for the amusement of those who desire to 
 employ Science as a mere pastime. Its contents are addressed to those 
 numerous readers who, without making any pretensions to rank among the 
 learned, desire to become acquainted with the truths of science ; a pursuit 
 which they are frequently deterred from following, by the abstruse lan- 
 guage in vogue amongst scientific men, or from the nature of their 
 ordinary avocations being too laborious and engrossing to allow of close 
 study during leisure hours. 
 
 Each number contains systematic, instructive articles (illustrated 
 when needful) on subjects connected with some of the following sciences, 
 viz. : — 
 
 Astronomy. 
 
 Botany. 
 
 Chemistry. 
 
 Ethnology. 
 
 Geography. 
 
 Geology. 
 
 Metallurgy. 
 
 Microscopy. 
 
 Mineralogy. 
 
 Physics. 
 
 Zoology. 
 
 &c. &c., and 
 
 Science applied to the Arts, Manufactures, Commerce, and Agriculture, 
 together with a Complete Summary of all the events of importance which 
 have taken place during the quarter in each department of Science. 
 
 Amongst the Contributors are : — 
 
 Prof. Ansted, P.R.S. 
 
 Prof. Buckman, F.L.S., F.S.A., 
 
 F.G.S. 
 
 James Breen, F.R.A.S. 
 
 Dr. CoLLiNGWOOD, M.A., F.L.S. 
 W. Crookes, F.C.S., F.L.S. 
 
 Dr. Fairbairn, F.R.S. 
 
 ' P. H. Gosse, F.R.S. 
 
 I Dr. Hicks, F.L.S. 
 i Jabez Hogg, F.L.S. 
 
 Prof. Hunt, F.R.S. 
 
 E. Jesse, F.L.S. 
 
 Dr. Lankester, F.R.S. 
 
 Mrs. Lankester. 
 
 G. H. Lewes. 
 
 Dr. Phipson, RC.S. 
 
 A. de Quatrefages. 
 
 James Samuelson (the Editor). 
 And other distinguished Writers. 
 
lioBERT Hardwicke, 192 , Picccidilly^ vr, 
 
 o 1 
 o 1 
 
 — i 
 
 I No. VL, JANUARY, 1863, contains: ' 
 
 I NOTES ON THE EXHIBITION— (concluded):— 
 
 j V.— THE MACHINERY DEPARTMENT; with Woodcuts. By Dr. ; 
 
 I William Fairbairn, F.R.S., &c. ' 
 
 VI.— THE IMPLEMENTS OF WAR, with Page Plate. By Captain J. F. D. 
 Donnelly, R.E /Inspector of Science, South Kensington). 
 
 I VIE— THE ZOOLOGY OF THE EXHIBITION. By Cuthbert 
 
 CoLLiNGWOOD, M.A., M.B., F.L.S. 
 
 I VIII.— THE COLONIES. Bv the Editor. 
 
 I THE MISTLETOE AND PARASITIC PLANTS; with Page Plate. By Mrs. j 
 
 j THE WINTER LIFE OF PLANTS; with Page Plate. By Harland Coultas. 
 
 THE VINEGAR EEL {Anguillula asceti) \ with Tinted Plate. By Jabez Hogg, i 
 j F.L.S. , &c. 
 
 j THE EYE OF THE OX, and its Microscopical Structure; with a Tinted and 
 I Coloured Plate. By E. Beckit Truman. i 
 
 i MARS; with a Tinted and Coloured Plate. By James Breen. F.R.A.S. ’ 
 
 I\1ISCELLANEA:— 
 
 I The British Association ; by D. T. Ansted, F.R.S. — The Zoological and Botanical | 
 
 i Section (D) ; by Cuthbert Collingwood, M.A., F.I.S, — Science — Schools. i 
 
 ' REVIEWS:— 
 
 Jefferys’ British Conchology — Simmonds’ Waste Products and Undeveloped Sub- j 
 I stances— Cooke’s British Fungi — Carpenter’s Revelations of the Microscope. 
 
 SCIENTIFIC SUMMARY:— : 
 
 Astronomy — Botany — Chemistry — Geology and Palseontology — Mechanical 
 Science — Medicine, Surgery, and Therapeutics — Blicroscopy — Mineralogy, j 
 Metallurgy, and Mining — Photography — Physics: Light, Heat, and Elec- : 
 tricity — Zoology. 
 
 No. V. contains : 
 
 THE BRITISH OAK, with Two Page Illustrations. By Prof. James Buckman, 
 F.L.S., F.G.S., &c. 
 
 TUBIFEX RIVULORUM, the Red Worm of our Rivers, with a Coloured Plate. 
 
 Bv Edwin Ray Lankester. 
 
 I AN/ESTHETICS. By Dr. T. L. Phipson, M.B., F.C.S., &c. 1 
 
 j BARMOUTH, and its Scientific Attractions, with a Tinted Illustration. By the ; 
 
 ' Editor. i 
 
 THE ELECTRO-PLATING PROCESS (concluding Part), with an Illustration, t 
 By George Gore. 
 
 NOTES OF TRIE EXHIBITION: 
 
 II. THE MINERALOGICAL DEPARTMENT. By Prof. D. T. Ansted, | 
 
 III. THE CHEMICAL DEPARTMENT. By W. Crookes, F.C.S., Editor I 
 of the Chemical News. I 
 
 ■ IV. THE PHILOSOPHICAL INSTRUMENTS. By J. Breen, F.R.A.S. I 
 
 MISCELLANEA, REVIEWS, and a complete Summary of Scientific Progress. i 
 
 No. IV. contains : 
 
 . THE GREAT EXHIBITION OF 1862: The Agricultural Implement Department, 
 I with Plate. By Howard Reed. 
 
 THE BRITANNIA AND CONWAY TUBULAR BRIDGES, with Plate. By 
 W. C. Unwin, B. Sc. 
 
 PRIMITIVE ASTRONOMY, with Two Coloured Plates. By the Editor, 
 i THE PHYSICS OF A SUNBEAM, with a Coloured Plate. By R. Hunt, F.R.S. 
 ! THE ENGLISH CALIFORNIA. By G. P. Bevan, F.G.S. 
 
 ’ THE CONTENTS OF CAVERNS (concluding Part). By D. T. Ansted, F.R.S. 
 j THE MICROSCOPE, with Directions for its Use. By C. Collingw'ood. M.B., 
 
 I THE BUILDER ANIMALCULES, with Plate. Bv P. H. Gosse, F.R.S. 
 i THE COMMON TRUFFLE, with Plate. By Jabe'z Hogg, M.R.C.S., &c. 
 i MISCELLANEA, REVIEWS, and Scientific Summary of Progress in Science. 
 
32 Egbert Hardwicke, 192, Piccadilly^ av. 
 
 No. III. contains : 
 
 THE PHOSPHORESCENCE OF THE SEA. AA^ith Plate. By A. De Quatre- 
 
 FAGES. 
 
 THE SUN AND SOLAR PHENOMENA. AVith a Coloured Plate. By James 
 Breen. 
 
 LIGHT AND COLOUR. With a Coloured Plate. By Robert Hunt, F.R.S. 
 THE INTERNATIONAL EXHIBITION BUILDINGS. AVith Plate. By AV. 
 Fairbairn, C.E., D.C.L. 
 
 THE APPLICATION OF SCIENCE TO ELECTRO-PLATING. By George 
 Gore. 
 
 ARTIFICIAL PRECIOUS STONES. By W. S. Howgrave. 
 
 THE AVHITE CLOVER, By Mrs. Lankester. With Two Plates by TufFen 
 West. 
 
 THE HUMAN HEART. By Isaac Ashe, B.A. 
 
 MISCELLANEA, REV^IEWS, and a complete Quarterly Retrospect. 
 
 No. II. contains : 
 
 CAVERNS. By Prof. Ansted, F.R.S. 
 
 LOWEST FORMS OF LIFE. By the Editor. Illustrated by Tuffen AA’^est and 
 G. H. Ford. 
 
 THE FLOWER ANIMALCULE. By P. H. Gosse, F.R.S. Illustrated by the 
 Author. 
 
 COTTON. By Dr. Lankester, F.R.S. Illustrated by TufiFen AVest. 
 
 GRASSES. By Prof. Buckman, F.L.S. Illustrated by J. E. Sowerbv. 
 
 THE REFLEX THEORY AND DR. MARSHALL HALL. By G. H. Lewes. 
 SOLAR CHEMISTRY. By R. Hunt, F.R.S. Illustrated with a Coloured 
 Diagram. 
 
 OPTICAL PHENOMENA OF THE ATMOSPHERE. By G. F. Chambers. 
 MISCELLANEA, REVIEAA^S, and Scientific Summary. 
 
 No. I. contains : 
 
 CORN. By Prof. James Buckman, F.L.S., &c. Illustrated bv the Author. 
 THE CROWN animalcule. By Philip Henry Gosse, F'.R.S. Illustrated 
 by the Author. 
 
 THE DAISY. By Mrs. Lankester. Illustrated. 
 
 THE LOWEST FORMS OF LIFE. By the Editor, ^#th Illustrations. 
 
 IRON AND STEEL. By R. Hunt, F.R.S. 
 
 WESTERN EQUATORIAL AFRICA. Bv the Editor, with a Coloured Map. 
 ARTIFICIAL LIGHT. By Prof. Ansted,' F.R.S. 
 
 THE BREATH OF LIFE. By W. Crookes. 
 
 DOGS. By Ed. Jesse, F.L.S.. &c. 
 
 THE GREAT COMET OF 1861. By J. Breen. 
 
 The “Popular Science Review” appears in October, January, 
 April, and July, price Half-a-crown. 
 
 Pi'ice to Subscribers 105. per Annum, camdage-free* 
 Subscriptions payable to any Bookseller, or the Publisher. 
 
 EOBEET HAEDWICKE, 192, PICCADILLY, AY.