of a dense population objectionable, on account of the large quantity of ordure and offal which necessarily accumulates therein. It is a great disadvantage that large masses of filth should be suffered to congregate in the very heart of a great city, as it not only affects the sanitary condition of the population in itself, but sets an example to the whole neighbourhood to be unusually dirty and filthy. The localities of these nuisances are usually avoided by respectable persons. An inferior class occupies the houses, whose squalor and wretchedness is but an extension of the evil.

Mr William Fortesque, surgeon, considered the effluvia from the slaughter-house refuse a mixture of sulphuretted hydrogen and carbonic acid gases, which are disengaged in proportion to the stage of decomposition the fæcal matter has reached; and that it is highly detrimental to the health of the locality in which slaughter-houses are situated, when enclosed by dwellings, and in the midst of a dense population.'

A VALUABLE HINT FOR FARMERS.

him rams and sold him long-horned bulls (said Mr Bakewell), and told him the real value of labour, both in-doors and out, and what ought to be done with a certain number of men, oxen, and horses, within a given time. I taught him to sow less and plough better; that there were limits and measures to all things; and that the husbandman ought to be stronger than the farm. I told him how to make hot land colder, and cold land hotter, light land stiffer, and stiff land lighter. I soon caused him to shake off all his old deep-rooted prejudices, and I grafted new ones in their places. I told him not to breed inferior cattle, sheep, or horses, but the best of each kind, for the best consumed no more than the worst. My friend became a new man in his old age, and died rich. - Gardeners' Chronicle.

A PINT OF ALE AND A NEWSPAPER.

covered with half a million of types, at a cost of thirty pounds for itself and other sheets printed at the same office the same day; and this sells for no more than the pint of ale, the juice of a little malt and hops! And yet after one person has enjoyed it, affording him news from all him as a man and a citizen, it remains to be enjoyed by parts of the world, and useful thoughts on all that interests scores of others in the same town or elsewhere; and it promotes trade, and finds employment, and markets for jects for conversation; and there are some who think this goods, and cautions against frauds and accidents, and subarticle dear, though the swiftly-gone barley-water is paid for cheerfully. How is this? Is the body a better paymaster than the mind, and are things of the moment more prized than things of moment? Is the transient tickling of the stomach of more consequence than the improvement of the mind, and the information that is essential to rational beings? If things had their real value, would not the newspaper be worth many pints of the best ale?— Liverpool Mercury,

How strangely the value of different things is estimated in some minds! A few grains of toasted barley are wetted, and the juice squeezed into a little water, with a taste of the leaves of the hop-plant-the value of both being too The celebrated Mr Robert Bakewell of Dishly, Leicester- the mixture, which costs also so little labour as hardly to small to be calculated; and a very slight tax is laid upon shire, and the founder of the New Leicester sheep, used be reckoned in our coinage. A pint of this sells, retail, for to tell an anecdote with exceeding high glee of a farmer not only of the olden school, but of the golden times. This fourpence; and if of good flavour, it is reckoned cheap and farmer, who owned and occupied 1000 acres of land, had well worth the money; and so it is. It is drunk off in a minute or two-it is gone. On the same table on which three daughters. When his eldest daughter married, he this was served lies a newspaper, the mere white sheet of gave her one-quarter of his land for her portion, but no money; and he found, by a little more speed and a little which cost one penny-farthing, and the duty thereon one better management, the produce of his farm did not penny, with no deductions for damaged, crooked, or overdecrease. When his second daughter married, he gave carriage from mills and stamp-office at a distance; and it printed copies made ready for sale, and charged too with her one-third of the remaining land for her portion, but no money. He then set to work, and began to grub' up his is furze and fern, and ploughed up what he called his poor dry furze land, even when the furze covered in some closes nearly half the land. After giving half his land away to two of his daughters, to his great surprise he found that the produce increased: he made more money because his new broken-up furze land brought excessive crops, and at the same time he farmed the whole of his land better, for he employed three times more labourers upon it; he rose two hours sooner in the morning, had no more dead fallows once in three years; instead of which he got two green crops in one year, and ate them upon the land. A garden never requires a dead fallow. But the great advantage was, that he had got the same money to manage 500 acres as he had to manage 1000 acres; therefore he laid out double the money upon the land. When his third and last daughter married, he gave her 250 acres, or half which remained, for her portion, and no money. He then found that he had the same money to farm onequarter of the land as he had at first to farm the whole. He began to ask himself a few questions, and set his wits to work how he was to make as much of 250 as he had done of 1000 acres. He then paid off his bailiff, who I have never known these animals, rapacious as they are, weighed twenty stone! rose with the larks in the long extend their attacks to man, though they probably would days, and went to bed with the lamb; he got as much if very hungry, and a favourable opportunity presented more work done for his money; he made his servants, itself. I shall not soon forget an adventure with one of labourers, and horses, move faster; broke them from them, many years ago, on the frontiers of Missouri. Riding their snail's space; and found that the eye of the master near the prairie border, I perceived one of the largest and quickened the pace of the servant. He saw the begin- fiercest of the gray species, which had just descended from ning and ending of everything; and to his servants and the west, and seemed famished to desperation. I at once labourers, instead of saying, Go and do it,' he said to prepared for a chase; and being without arms, I caught up a them, Let us go, my boys, and do it.' Between come cudgel, when I betook me valiantly to the charge, much and go he soon found out a great difference. He grubbed stronger, as I soon discovered, in my cause than in my up the whole of his furze and ferns, and then ploughed equipment. The wolf was in no humour to flee, however, the whole of his poor grass land up, and converted a great but boldly met me full half-way. I was soon disarmed, deal of corn into meat for sake of the manure, and he pre- for my club broke upon the animal's head. He then laid served his black water (the essence of manure); cut his to my horse's legs, which, not relishing the conflict, gave hedges down, which had not been plashed for forty or a plunge, and sent me whirling over his head, and made his fifty years; straightened his zig-fences; cut his water- escape, leaving me and the wolf at close quarters. I was courses straight, and gained a deal of land by doing so; no sooner upon my feet than my antagonist renewed the made dams and sluices, and irrigated all the land he charge; but being without weapon, or any means of awakencould; he grubbed up many of his hedges and borders ing an emotion of terror, save through his imagination, I covered with bushes, in some places from 10 to 14 yards took off my large black hat, and using it for a shield, began in width, some more in his small closes, some not wider to thrust it towards his gaping jaws. My ruse had the than streets; and threw three, four, five, and six closes desired effect; for after springing at me a few times, he into one. He found out that, instead of growing white-wheeled about, and trotted off several paces, and stopped thorn hedges and haws to feed foreign birds in the winter, he could grow food for man instead of migratory birds. After all this improvement he grew more, and made more of 250 acres than he did from 1000; at the same time he found out that half of England at that time was not cultivated from the want of means to cultivate it with. I let

ENCOUNTER WITH A PRAIRIE WOLF.

to gaze at me. Being apprehensive that he might change his mind and return to the attack, and conscious that, under the compromise, I had the best of the bargain, I very resolutely-took to my heels, glad of the opportunity of making a drawn game, though I had myself given the challenge.―Journal of a Santa Fé Trader.

EDINBURGH

JOURNAL

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

No. 248. NEW SERIES.

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 30, 1848.

FROLICS OF FASHION.

Ir is told of an old Scotch laird that he had acquired the habit of walking in an cdd shambling manuer from an excess of politeness while residing at a foreign court, where the reigning prince had the misfortune to be somewhat stiff in the ankle-joints. There was nothing very remarkable in this trait of complaisance, for the spirit of imitation in dress, language, and customs of all kinds is of so universally pervading an influence, that, right or wrong, its dictates are unhesitatingly followed. One therefore should not laugh too hard at the old laird's affected lameness. We are all less or more followers, from imitation and habit, of usages which common sense has some difficulty in justifying.

PRICE 1d.

ficial states of society, in which etiquette exercises the chief control, cannot be said to be favourable to the growth of moral excellence. We would not, however, have it thought that there is anything either blameable or ridiculous-far from it-in following fashions which are convenient, becoming, and suitable to general circumstances. Every successive generation introduces some species of novelty, which is an expression of social progress; and in costumes and customs we may read the moral history of a country as distinctly as in its medals and monuments. Fortunately the tendency of fashion in our own day is towards simplicity; though in this respect we are only following the progress which commenced a generation ago. The imitation which challenges sarcasm is that of the monkey and the medicine-a fantastic copying of what is valueless and unsuitable. In this respect it is a meanness, and betrays as much the want of true diguity as of common reflection. It is the enemy of fashion, perpetually turning it into ridicule, and forcing it into a thousand feverish changes to escape from its persecutions. These changes are sometimes as comical as those of the two fairies in the Arabian Nights,' who fought through a series of metamorphoses. We remem. ber the leaders of ton, some years ago, had recourse to the expedient of disguising their voices by a certain dexterous use of the roof of the mouth. Even this, however, did not baffle their pursuers; in a very short time the world of slavish imitators acquired the new form of speech, and drove invention to new shifts. At a later epoch some ingenious persons stuck an eye-glass into their eye, supporting it by the muscles alone, and bearing with heroical equanimity the inconvenience and the ridicule but this has now come down to the order of small imitators, who affect to bask in the sunshine of fashion.

Of all despots, Fashion is the most despotic; and yet the thing is entirely voluntary. There is, however, the terror of appearing to act differently from what seems to be a legitimately-erected standard. No inquiry is employed as to the correctness of the taste which has suggested any distinct change in fashion. No matter even that accident has been the cause of the alteration; for, as in a state of panic, what all hasten to do cannot possibly be wrong. In the modern lady-world, this panic of fashion is observed to work as marvellous transformations as that which took place among the towering head-dresses of Addison's days, and to have about as reasonable a purpose. When the Queen was on the Clyde last year, finding her face visited too roughly by the air of our Scottish hills, she tied her veil under her chin. The action was natural, and the effect no doubt, in the circumstances, becoming. The royal cheeks, warm with health, flushed with womanly and queenly feeling, and fanned by the welcoming breezes of the north, looked almost as beautiful, we daresay, as a moss-rose. However that may be, before the day was out, there were hundreds of other cheeks in the same As regards the mass of mankind, imitation is a kind predicament. The rage of imitation spread. In the of substitute for principle; and estimated not in its exshadiest walks-in the closest streets of the town-treme aspect, until individuals are better able to direct in the calmest and hottest days of the season-the veil was fashionably tied under the chin. The fashion, however, was in reality made a fashion only through misapprehension; for the Queen had merely adopted a temporary expedient to serve a temporary end; and when the emergence was over, she no doubt unloosed the knot, and gave her veil to the winds as usual. Her imitators were as unregardful of circumstances as the very sagacious monkey which gulped a package of medicine because he saw his master swallow a quantity of the same material previously.

To a silly and panic-like rage of imitation may no doubt most fashions be traced; the fear of infringing even a trifling point in a prevailing usage being perhaps stronger than that which makes men avoid the commission of serious error. And thus highly arti

their own movements, it deserves indulgence, if not approbation. So many persons are placed in circumstances adverse to original or independent thought, that we cannot speak too flatteringly of efforts at imitation, which, though sometimes grotesque, and possibly out of place, are in the main respectable, and significant of a wish for improvement. On a late occasion, when shown into the cottage of a rural labourer, we observed with surprise that a small table was laid out with books starfashion, as in the drawing-room of a city. The effort at gentility was in one sense ludicrous; yet how deserving was it of commendation, all things considered! The true way to view such things is to place them in contrast with that utter disregard of all the decencies of life which is unhappily manifested by parties moving in a rank equal to that of the rural labourer. Only a day or two

previously we had visited the house of a person of greater worldly possessions, and found the family living almost in a state of nature along with their cattle. Exhibitions of this latter sort are calculated to inspire a wonderful degree of toleration of imitative efforts at elegance and improvement, however incongruous. Better see a population toiling to ape the fashions of refined society, than see it contented with the listless mediocrity of semi-barbarism! Placed in this light, the mimicry of fashion is to be viewed as one of those tendencies which Providence has impressed on mankind for their benefit. It is constantly drawing them out of the slough of natural desires, and leading them by steps, imperceptible to themselves, towards the higher aims of civilisation.

THE START IN LIFE.

A TALE.

'WELL, Cousin Danby, so Mary is going to be married? I rode over to hear all about it, and to ask how soon I am to wish you joy.'

"Thank you kindly, John,' replied the mother of the bride-elect, her face beaming with smiles: indeed you | should have been the first to hear the news, only you were away at the assizes; for often and often Mary said to me that there was no one in the world on whose advice she would depend, or to whose opinion she would look up more entirely, than your own: not that Mary felt any doubts as to her choice; she knew him all her life, and so do we all-as good a gentleman bred and born as in all Ireland: indeed for that matter, much better than Mary had any right to expect: but she did often say that had you been at home before matters were entirely settled, she would have liked to consult you as to what you thought best.'

With all patience and attention John Travers listened, knowing well that interruption would only add to the intricacy of the narrative. Now, however, at a pause he inquired where was Mary; but without heeding the inquiry, Mrs Danby proceeded in her harangue. Mary's intended husband, Frank Nugent, had got a wonderful catch of a farm on lease from Mr Jones, and everything no doubt would go on beautifully. There could not have been a better start in life!

And where is the capital to encounter so large an undertaking?'

'Oh, Mary, you know, has a hundred pounds, and Frank will probably get something from his brother George.'

Umph,' said John Travers. The bargain is not completely made?'

Quite settled,' answered Mrs Danby with a look full of satisfaction. The lease was drawn and signed a fortnight ago. Tradesmen are in the house, and most part of the furniture is come home. Mary has not quite fixed the day, but I have an idea it is not very far off.'

I did not expect to hear matters had gone so far,' said John gravely; though guessing pretty well long ago how they would end. As you say, their choice does credit to them both; and yet I confess, Cousin Danby, I more than share in Mary's anxieties regarding the future; and as my notions are my own, I am afraid I cannot so easily lay them by. But tell me, how did Frank Nugent come by such a bargain? Mr Jones has the name of being a hard and griping agent, and very few real bargains, as I hear, have ever passed through his hands.'

'Oh, but Frank is very different from the generality of his tenants,' replied the widow. No wonder if Mr Jones made a compliment to him; or most likely the family had interest with Sir Hugh himself, and got the place for Frank without any thanks to the agent. Indeed it seems so natural to me that any of the Nugents could get a farm whenever they chose to look for it, that I never thought of making it a subject of inquiry.'

'Interest-interest- the Irish look too much to doing things through interest,' said John Travers composedly.

And all right too, if they have not a fortune of their own,' replied Mrs Danby. But tell me, Cousin John, what you would have recommended.'

"That is soon done. I should have advised Mary and her intended husband to wait a little till better times, or at all events not to have started with a heavy farm on their hands, but, in preference, to have opened a shop in the town. I know one, with a stock to boot, which is at present to be had for a comparatively small sum.' 'A shop! Did you say a shop? Our family have never descended to the meanness of trade. I am glad I was the first, and I hope the last, to hear of your doubtless well-meaning, but unsuitable proposal. It would ill become any of Mary's relations to teach Frank Nugent that his position was lowered by his marriage.'

'Well, cousin, no offence meant either to you or the Nugents, or least of all to dear little Mary. I wished to see her and her husband independent, what they never will be at the fag end of what you call their position. Gladly would I have done something to spare Mary the weary struggle of keeping up false appearances done anything but quench her heart's young joy. Remember that, Cousin Danby, I would not thwart this marriage-I |. would not even say it was inconsiderate or ill-advised, though many might agree with me-for I know them both thoroughly: they are good, honest, loving, and in the end they will pull through.'

Luckily, as Mrs Danby remarked, the advice and the foreboding were both too late, and John Travers was too wise and too kind to offer superfluous counsel; so he bided his time, contenting himself for the present with forwarding their preparations as far as lay in his power, avoiding all discussions of ways and means. Mary alone, perhaps, read his silence aright-his forbearance; but as this was a point on which her doubts had been stifled by the hand which was to provide for the future, she determined, in the fulness of womanly trust, that no other should revive them again; and thus the subject was tacitly dropped, while both in their own way looked as happy and hopeful on the day of the wedding as if no cloud from the future had ever shadowed their minds.

Happy and hopeful!-those were no words for Mrs Danby; she was actually radiant as carriage and jaunting-car drove up to her door, and the full tile of compliments and congratulations poured in. To do her justice, her hopes and her plans were all centered in her daughter; her dreams of ambition only through! her: she still had her dreams, but they were about to be realised, and she was contented to shine for the future with reflected light.

Mrs Danby was the widow of an officer, who, some twenty years before, when quartered in this her native village, captivated by her blooming face, had married and taken her away. She returned at his death with one little daughter, judging from experience that the slender provision, which was scarce better than poverty amongst strangers, would seem quite a fortune in the eyes of her humbler connections at home; and by good management, and keeping her own counsel, it really answered all the purposes of a fortune in her hands. Every one hastened to welcome her-every one tried to assist-all gave her credit for genuine feeling in returning to her early home and friends-none suspected that necessity had influenced her choice; and all at once she found herself, for the first time in her life, a person of consequence in the circle in which she lived. But, unreasonable woman, this did not satisfy her; she had been all her life clinging to the edge of another, and could know no contentment until she had slipped herself fairly in. Had her ambition been for Mary only, it might have been abundantly gratified; her sweet looks and manner unconsciously won their way in circles where her father had been intimate many