CHAMBERS'S EDINBURGH JOURNAL. In the Mediterranean there are Gibraltar and Malta; from which we import L.40,000 and L.232,000, and to which we export L.938,000 and L.289,000 respectively. If to these we add, as too unimportant for classification, the Falkland Islands, Hong Kong, and St Helena, we have a grand total of L.3,088,000 imports, and L.3,199,000 exports, forming the whole of the British colonial trade. the conditions of that treaty which should give national freedom to our colonies, exchange the bonds of force for those of gratitude, and render Great Britain no more the rival or the mistress, but the friend and ally, of the new world. ments with reference to our shipping and seamen, which has been so much insisted upon by the press, this will As for the advantage of such establishThe expenditure by which we keep up these estab-navigation laws. There can be no real freedom of comvanish, as a matter of course, with the repeal of the lishments was given as follows in an authoritative paper for 1836. We have not seen a more recent statement; but this, we presume, will afford a sufficiently correct idea of the cost, with the exception of one important item, to be mentioned presently. Gibraltar, Cape of Good Hope, Bermuda, Ascension, Total Expenditure 110,818 242.907 Mauritius, 78,284 Fernando Po, Heligoland, 91,446 510 4,907 1,016 Ionian Islands, 118,955 St Helena, 87,558 Jamaica, Bahamas, Honduras, 232,428 Barbadoes, Grenada, St Vincent, Tobago, An- 373,242 Lower Canada, Upper Canada, 221,441 Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, Prince Edward's Island, Newfoundland, Sierra Leone, Gambia, 161,294 38,347 Ceylon, Western Australia, 133,805 12,745 New South Wales, Van Diemen's Land, 533,501 Total, omitting fractions, 23,449 L.2,606,483 The item alluded to as an exception to the correctness of the above account, is the sum of L.221,441, set down for the Canadas. On this point M'Culloch says in his newly published work-'Our ascendancy in Canada, at this moment, is wholly dependent on the presence of a large military force, occasioning, one way and another, a direct outlay of little less than L.1,500,000 a year; and all this heavy expense is incurred without any equivalent advantage, and with a full conviction on the mind of every man of sense in the empire that, at no very distant period, Canada will be independent, or an integral portion of the United States!' may be added upwards of L.20,000 for the expense of To all this the colonial office at home; and thus we see that the expense of keeping up our colonies is greater-not than the mere profits-but than the entire gross amount of the colonial trade, by more than L.900,000 a year! Let it, in short, be distinctly understood that, in order to do business to the extent of three millions annually, we spend pretty nearly four millions annually. To save money and trouble, would it not be better to pension every colonial merchant to the extent of his profits, and devote the remainder of the four millions to some useful purpose? What a splendid system of national education could be supported for two millions annually! Some persons answer that the use of colonies is passive: that we must retain them in our own hands, even at the enormous sum they actually cost, in order to prevent their getting into the hands of other nations. If this notion has reference to trade, it is, considering the plain and obvious facts of experience, nothing less than absurd. By the United States, since they acquired their independence, we have been prodigious gainers; and how the extension of a territory so profitable to us supposing this to take place through the manumission of our North American colonies-can be reckoned injurious, it is difficult to imagine. But if we are determined, by political jealousy (no doubt the true reason), to prevent the States from extending their available line of coast, this would be quite as well accomplished by merce while a single shackle remains on the carrying trade; and it is impossible to conceive why the ships of Great Britain should not take the same chance as her manufactures. To come to the point, however: colonies are, in our opinion, neither commercially nor politically useful; they are simply the means appointed by nature, and unconsciously adopted by mankind from the beginning of time, for peopling the desert places of the earth, by offshoots from countries where the population has increased so far as to draw too heavily upon the sources of subsistence or comfort. It has been the destiny of our island to accomplish more in this way than any other nation, ancient or modern. To say nothing of our military and maritime stations, which dot the globe throughout, a great part of the new world is already English, and the germs of English empires are now planted round the coasts of a still newer world in the vast expanse of ocean between India and America. But the misfortune is, that we have never been satisfied with this legitimate exercise of our energies; indeed we have never given ourselves to the task but by fits and starts, as if colonisation was not one of the great and regular duties of government in an old and crowded country, but merely a casual necessity imposed by temporary circumstances. On the other hand, when the true objects of the colony are accomplished; when our offspring has grown old in turn, and comes, interests of its own apart from ours; when, in fact, it is no longer a source of convenience and comfort, but of in the common course of nature, to have duties and anxiety and weakness-then do we cling to it with blood! an insane pertinacity which can only be loosened by omission or commission in this respect are the more It would be difficult to say whether our follies of remarkable; but, in point of fact, our whole colonial system-if a tissue of puerile crotchets, wrought out by petty expedients, can be called a system at all-is quite unworthy of the age and the nation. The splendid have advanced, in those few cases in which any real countries which have fallen into such incapable hands, advance has been made, in spite of us; but, generally speaking, they present an unbroken aspect of ruin and desolation. ment exclusively, in a case in which the people are But let us not be understood to blame the governlikewise only too obviously in fault. In fact, we do not know that in England a minister could hold his place for a month who appeared willing to abandon even a useless colony! Ships, colonies, and commerce,' are inseparably associated in the national mind; and he who attempts to sever them, is looked upon as a parricide, who would destroy, if he could, our trade and our very maritime existence. This is an instance of the constancy which is real inconsistency; for the foundation of our faith in colonies has crumbled away before our eyes, leaving behind only an empty prestige. Our colonies were ours, in the closest and most selfish meaning of the expression; hence the exorbitant value we attached to them. They were snug little farms, cultivated for our own supply, and the wages of the labourers paid upon the truck system. But all would not do. It was in vain that we mulcted ourselves to keep up these pet establishments. We were at length tired of eating dearer sugar than we could purchase in the general market, and of circumscribing the sale of our manufactures to avoid dealing with other people; and what is more, we found that the monopoly worked in quite another way than we supposed, being injurious to colony and mother country alike. Year after year our colonies are ceasing more and more to be ours, in the meaning we once attached to the expression; yet we do not regard them the less fondly, or cling to them the less franticly. We repeat, that it is not the executive who are to be blamed for maintaining these expensive toys. The people are the party in fault. If the whistle must be had, it must be paid for. Is it, then, our wish to dissolve the existing attachment between England and her colonies? Far from it. It is the duty and the fate of this great country to colonise; but in doing so, she should proceed according to reason, instead of following, as heretofore, a blind instinct. The real use of a colony is to absorb the excess of population at home; and the real use of a colonial minister is to conduct this great object in a manner which will benefit alike the new and the old country. As things are conducted at present, our splendid possessions in Canada-to say nothing of the glaring mismanagement at a greater distance-are a mere emigration highway into the United States. The emigrant, of all men in this world, is the most dependent upon certainty in his pecuniary calculations; but this is altogether out of the question in the former country. In the States, where there is a fixed price, land is bought like any other commodity, and the intending purchaser knows what he is about, and can take his measures accordingly; but in Canada, when he has made his selection, the lot is put up to auction, and after all his trouble, expense, and anxiety, may be sold over his head! In fact the constant failures of our emi gration system betray a want, not only of great talents, but of the most ordinary capacity; and we bring forward the above details with the view of inducing the people to be satisfied no longer with debating on minor points, but to proceed, from the groundwork thus laid down, and seriously inquire into the whole question. We must not conclude, however, without suggesting that, in an examination of the system, it will be proper to discriminate between colonial settlements and poli tical points d'appui. We have included, for instance, the expenses of Gibraltar, Malta, Heligoland, &c. in the general account, because we have likewise stated the amount of the trade carried on through them; but the importance of such stations is in a great measure irrespective of commerce, and must be estimated by other rules than those of arithmetic. TRUTH AND HONESTY. A LESSON FOR LITTLE BOYS. A REVOLUTION of opinions is taking place in the present day; sectarian and national prejudices are giving way to a holy feeling of universal brotherhood; military conquests are robbed of their tinsel, and appear in their native deformity; and moral dignity, though discovered amid poverty and ignorance, is raised to its legitimate place, exciting the respect and admiration of all capable of estimating true worth. This latter remark will plead an apology for introducing to the reader a young hero, filling a station no higher than that of a pupil in a parochial school. Two boys, of nearly the same age, were one day amusing themselves with that dangerous, though not uncommon pastime, pelting each other with stones. They had chosen. one of the squares for their playground, thinking by this means to avoid doing mischief. To the consternation of the thrower, however, a missile, instead of resting on the shoulders of the boy at whom it was aimed, entered the library window of one of the lordly mansions forming the quadrangle. Why don't you take to your heels, you blockhead? you will have the police after you whilst you are standing staring there,' was the exclamation of his companion, as he caught him by the arm in order to drag him from the spot. The author of the mischief still retained his thoughtful position. 'If your father is obliged to pay for this, you will stand a chance of having a good thrashing, Jack,' the other boy urged. Then I wish to see him, if you please.' 'That you can't do, my man; but I'll deliver any message for you.' 'No, that will not do. I must-indeed I must see the gentleman himself.' The earnestness and perseverance of the boy at length induced the man to comply with his request, and opening the door of the library, he apologised for asking his master to see a shabby little fellow; adding, that he could neither learn his business nor get rid of him. 'Bring him in,' said the gentleman addressed, who, havsation, was curious to know the object of the boy's visit. ing witnessed the transaction, and overheard the converThe poor child, whose ideas had never soared above his father's second floor, stood for several moments in stupified amazement when ushered into an elegant apartment; but remembering the painful circumstance which had brought him into this scene of enchantment, he in some measure regained his self-possession. 'I am very sorry, sir,' he began in a faltering voice, 'but I have broken your window. My father is out of work just now, and cannot pay for it; but if you will be kind enough to take the money a little at a time, as I can get it, I will be sure to make it up;' and as he spoke, he drew a few halfpence from his pocket and laid them on the table. "That's an honest speech, my lad; but how am I to be sure that you will fulfil your engagement?' Mr Cavendish returned. Do you know that I could have you sent to the station-house till the money is made up?' 'Oh don't send me there, sir; it would break my dear mother's heart! I will pay you all-indeed I will, sir;' and the poor boy burst into a flood of tears. "I am glad that you have so much consideration for your mother's feelings; and for her sake, I will trust to your honesty.' 'Oh thank you, sir-thank you!' another payment? This is a very small sum towards the 'But when do you expect to be able to make me price of a large square of plate glass;' and as he spoke, he glanced at the four halfpence which the boy had spread out. This day week, sir, if you please.' 'Very well, let it be so. At this hour I shall be at home to see you.' Poor Jack made his very best bow, and retired. True to his appointment, our high-principled boy appeared at the door of Mr Cavendish's mansion. As the footman had previously received orders to admit him, he was immediately shown into the library. 'I have a shilling for you to-day, sir!' he said exultingly, and his countenance was radiant with smiles. Indeed! That is a large sum for a boy like you to obtain in so short a time. I hope you came by it honestly?' A flush of crimson mounted to the cheek of poor Jack, but it was not the flush of shame. 'I earned every penny of it, sir, excepting one my mother gave me, to make it up,' he energetically replied; and he proceeded to say that he had been on the look-out for jobs all week; that he had held a horse for one gentleman, and had run on an errand for another; in this way accounting for elevenpence. Your industry and perseverance do you credit, my lad,' Mr Cavendish exclaimed, his benevolent countenance lighting up with a smile. And now I should like to know your name and place of residence.' 'I will write it, sir, if you please. Indeed I brought a piece of paper for the purpose of putting down the money. I hope I shall be able to make it all up in a few weeks, for I am trying to get a situation as errand-boy.' You can write then? Do you go to school?' 'Oh yes, sir. I go to a free school.' And Jack stepped forward to take the pen, which Mr Cavendish held towards him. You write a tolerably good hand, my little man. You may, I think, do better than take an errand-boy's place. Let me see if you have any knowledge of arithmetic." Jack stood boldly up, and unhesitatingly replied to the various questions which were put to him. That will do, my good boy. Now, when do you think you will be able to come and bring me some more money?' 'I will come again this time next week, if I'm alive and well, sir.' That was wisely added, my lad; for our lives are not in our own keeping. This, I see, you have been taught.' Another week passed, and again Jack appeared, but his countenance now wore an aspect of sadness. 'I am very sorry, sir,' he said, 'I have been unfortunate, and have only a small sum to give you.' And as he spoke, he laid three pennyworth of halfpence before Mr Cavendish. I assure you, sir,' he earnestly added, 'I have offered my services to every gentleman on horseback that I could see. 'I believe you, my boy: I am pleased with your honest intentions. Perhaps you will meet with better success another time. Let me see; you have now paid one shilling and fivepence: that is not amiss for the time;' and with an encouraging smile Mr Cavendish suffered him to depart. Though Mr Cavendish had, from the first, concealed his intentions, his heart was planning a work of benevolence, which was nothing less than to befriend the poor boy, whose noble conduct had won his admiration. For this end he, a few days subsequently, paid the parents a visit when he knew that the son would be at school. He related the incident which had brought him under his notice, and proceeded to ask whether his conduct towards themselves was equally praiseworthy. 'Oh yes, sir,' exclaimed the mother, her eyes filling with tears. He has ever been a dutiful child to us, and always acts in this honest, straightforward manner.' He has indeed a noble spirit, sir,' the father rejoined; and I am as proud of him as if he were a prince.' 'Would you part from him?' Mr Cavendish asked. have something in view for his future benefit.' 'I Undoubtedly we would, for his benefit,' was the reply of both. 'Well, then, purchase him a new suit of apparel with these two guineas, and bring him to my residence this day week. I will then acquaint you with my views for him for the future.' Language cannot describe the heartfelt gratitude which beamed in the eyes of the happy parents, nor could they find words to give it utterance. When next our young hero came into the presence of his benefactor, his appearance was certainly altered for the better, though no disadvantages of dress could rob his noble countenance of its lofty expression. Mr Cavendish had previously made arrangements for him to become an inmate of his own house, and had also entered his name as a pupil in a neighbouring school. John Williams is now receiving a liberal education, and enjoying all the advantages which wealth can procure. Such a sudden change of position and prospects would, in many instances, prove injurious to the moral character; but with a mind based upon the solid principles which our young friend possesses, little fear may be entertained that such will be the result. The above little sketch is authentic in every respect, excepting the names of the parties concerned. The events occurred a few months ago, and are here made public, with the hope that the truth and honesty, and judicious benevolence exhibited, may stimulate others to 'go and do likewise.' COMPARATIVE STATISTICS OF PAUPERISM. A paper delivered with the votes on the 9th of April, presents us with some comparative statistics of pauperism in the three kingdoms, which are at this moment of practical interest:-ENGLAND-Population in 1841, 15,906,741; annual value of property rated to the poor rates (return of 1841), L.62,640,039; expenditure for the relief of the poor (1844-45), L.5,039,703; rate per pound on value of property, 1s. 74d.; total number of paupers relieved, including casual poor, 1,470,970; proportion per cent. to population, 9.2; rate of expenditure per head on paupers relieved, L.3, 8s. 6d. SCOTLAND-Population in 1841, 2,620,184; annual value of property rated to the poor rates (return of 1843), L.9,320,784; expenditure for the relief of the poor (1844-45), L.292,685; rate per pound on value of property, 74d.; total number of paupers relieved, including casual poor, 96,326; proportion per cent. to population, 37; rate of expenditure per head on paupers relieved, L.3, Os. 94d. IRELAND-Population in 1841, 8,175,125; annual value of property rated to the poor (return of 1845), L.13,204,234; expenditure for the relief of the poor (1844-45), L.298,813; rate per pound on value of property, 5d.-this calculation is made on the annual value of 113 unions, or L.12,305,784; total number of paupers returned, including casual poor, 125,774; proportion per cent. to population, 15; rate of expenditure per head on paupers relieved, L2, 7s. 91d.Caledonian Mercury, 15th April 1847. THE MOTHER'S CALL. [THE smaller poems and songs of Allan Cunningham have very properly been presented by his son, in a small volume calculated for wide circulation. (Murray, London.) The editor accompanies the collection with an account of the manner in which Allan first came before the world as an author. Finding an English stranger roaming through Dumfriesshire in quest of ancient ballads and songs, the young poet imposed his own compositions upon him, and thus they were published as antiques. From peculiar habits of feeling, sportive light in which it is usually regarded; but, at the worst, it was no heavy subtraction from the really estimable character of Cunningham, while of the merit of the poetry concerned in the case there can be no manner of doubt. we never have been able to look on this proceeding quite in the The best of 'honest Allan' is here. His strength lay in his Bonnie Lady Anne, his Hame hame, Carlisle Yetts, &c. and in his short poems. For greater literary efforts his defective education, and want of due intellectual discipline, not to speak of heavy worldly duties, unfitted him. It was early in life that he wrote the bulk of the present volume, which, being mainly the expression of a glow ing youthful mind, is best fitted to give pleasure to minds at the same stage and in the same condition. With such minds, however, it should be a bosom book. The following poem is a specimen of the English verses of Cunningham.] COME, Sweet ones, come to the fields with me, I hear the note of the shrill curlew; I hear the cry of the hunting hawk, The sound of the dove in our 'customed walk, The song of the lark, the tongue of the rill, The shepherds' shout on the pasture hill. My sweet ones, all come forth and play, The smoke streams up, and the air is rife Now, now ye come, my little ones all, At his breakfast of balm the golden bee; The worm that flies with a painted plume, Her twin fawns forth to the odorous mead, But stay, my children. Ere ye run, Published by W. & R. CHAMBERS, High Street, Edinburgh. Also sold by D. CHAMBERS, 98 Miller Street, Glasgow; W. S. Orr, 147 Strand, and Amen Corner, London; and J. M'GLASHAN, 21 D'Olier Street, Dublin.-Printed by W. and R. CHAMBERS, Edinburgh. EDINBURGH JOURNAL CONDUCTED BY WILLIAM AND ROBERT CHAMBERS, EDITORS OF CHAMBERS'S INFORMATION FOR THE PEOPLE,' 'CHAMBERS'S EDUCATIONAL COURSE,' &c. No. 179. NEW SERIES. SATURDAY, JUNE 5, 1847. THE HIGH AND THE HUMBLE. THE grand outcry of the present day is for an improvement of the condition of the humbler classes-improvement in their homes, their gains, their social position, everything concerning them. It is well there should be a straining to this end-let it have free way in every legitimate channel. Let us guard, however, against every mode of propelling this cause which seems likely, by raising bad feeling between class and class, or by exciting an over-impatient discontent, to retard the safe and sure progress which it is actually making. Occasionally we find views propounded on the subject which seem to us of this obstructive kind; they would represent the present position of the labouring class as unusually degraded, and the amount of wretchedness at the base of society as unprecedented; they would mark capital as the enemy of labour, and fix a kind of stigma upon every well-replenished pocket, as if there were a criminality on the part of the rich in the fact of any other persons being poor. Our tendency to poetise the past is perhaps the chief cause of the error in comparing the former and present condition of the labouring orders. Reposing on the old phrase Merry England, and dwelling on the sports and holidays of past times, we imagine that the lot of the ancient English peasant was one of uninterrupted sunshine and merriment, as if the earth had then yielded her fruits almost spontaneously. When we consult the actual documents of the past, something very different appears. For example, as to the amount of labour expected from a farm-servant, take the simple unvarnished account presented by Gervase Markham in his Farewell to Husbandry, dated 1653. It refers to the season immediately following Christmas, when of course there is no daylight till eight o'clock. At this time the ploughman shall rise before four o'clock in the morning, and after thanks given to God for his rest, and the success of his labours, he shall go into his stable, and first he shall fodder his cattle; then he shall curry his horses, rub them with cloths and wisps, and make both them and the stable as clean as may be; then he shall water both his oxen and horses, and housing them again, give them more fodder, and to his horse by all means provender, as chaff and dry peas or beans, or oats. And whilst they are eating their meat, he shall prepare his plough-gear, and to these labours I will also allow full two hours-that is, from four o'clock till six; then shall he come in to breakfast, and to that I allow him half an hour, and then another half hour to the gearing and yoking of his cattle, so that at seven o'clock he may set forward to his labour; and then he shall plough from seven o'clock in the morning till betwixt two and three in the afternoon; then he shall unyoke and bring home his cattle, and having PRICE 11d. rubbed and dressed them, he shall give them meat; then shall the servants go in to their dinner, which allowed half an hour, it will then be towards four o'clock, at which time he shall go to his cattle again, and give them more fodder; which done, he shall go into the barns, and provide and make ready fodder of all kinds for the next day. This being done, and carried into the stable, ox-house, or other convenient place, he shall then go water his cattle, and give them more meat, and to his horse provender, as before showed; and by this time it will draw past six o'clock, at what time he shall come in to supper; and after supper, he shall either by the fireside mend shoes, both for himself and their family, or beat and knock hemp or flax, or pick and stamp apples or crabs for cider or verjuice, or else grind malt on the querns, pick candle rushes, or do some husbandly office within doors till it be full eight o'clock. Then shall he take his lantern and candle, and go see his cattle, and having cleansed and littered them down, look that they be safely tied, and then give them food for all night; then giving God thanks for benefits received that day, let him and the whole household go to their rest till the next morning.' Here, it will be observed, is sixteen hours' work, abated only by three half-hours or so for meals-surely no improvement upon the peasant's lot in our own times! With regard to the food of farm-labourers in those days, Tusser in his Points of Good Husbandry speaks of an abundance of fish and flesh, chiefly salted; but we know from Markham that oats were then the bread of the English peasantry, as they continued to be in the early part of the last century. Tusser, too, says expressly, 'Give servants no dainties.' Food is, however, the point in which past times show best in contrast with the present. As to the social condition of the peasantry, and the treatment they received from their employers, we believe that great misapprehension prevails. It is supposed, because the working-man sat in the same apartment, and ate at the same table with his master, that he was his friend and companion. There could not be a greater mistake. The presence of the master was a constant restraint on the servant. A severe discipline was kept up. Tusser says, 'Keep servants in awe,' and elsewhere adds 'No servant at table use* sauc'ly to talk, Lest tongue set at large out of measure do walk.' Nay, it appears from this quaint author that beating was a recognised piece of discipline with the housewife in the management of her servants. A maid that beats her clothes in washing, deserves, he says, to be beat | That is, accustom or permit. herself. 'Make maid to be cleanly, or make her cry creak; that is, make her run into a corner for safety. And, as a general advice, 'A wand in thy hand, though ye fight not at all, Makes youth to their business better to fall.' Where corporal punishment existed, there could of course be no real sense of equality, nor, one would suppose, any great amount of good feeling, between the parties. while on Sunday he has often had from twenty to thirty quartered in his outhouses. Now, it was perhaps better for the poor to wander about the country than to be pent up in the darkest recesses of our large cities; but still it is only an evil shifted in its locality it is not one generated of new. We may also remind the reader that, about fifty years ago, so pressing were the hardships of the rural labourers of England, that the legislature was compelled to adopt the Allowance System; that is, to make them partially the stipendiaries of the public, which they continued to be till 1834. The admirers of the past also overlook the actual degradations which attended the system of a common table in old times. In a gentleman's house, the salt-vat indicated the point where gentility ended and servility One of the most telling charges against our present began; a distinction which would now be pronounced social state is, that it embraces such violent inequalities odious and intolerable by both parties. Nor was the some excessively rich, some excessively poor, as if fare uniform. Fynes Morison, who travelled in Eliza- the good things of fortune underwent a kind of polaribeth's time, tells us of his being present at the table of sation. And yet there is no country where so vast or so a Scottish knight, where the servants had porridge with affluent a middle class fills up the space between the a bit of sodden meat, while the gentlefolk ate pullet broth opposite poles-where, indeed, the gradation of condiwith prunes. More lately, Lord Lovat assigned different tions is so nicely shaded; neither is there anywhere beverages to his different classes of retainers-wine to such free and frequent movement from one step in the himself and immediate friends, ale to his troop of High- scale to another. The middle class, with its wealth and land cousins, beer or water to the common men. Is it its comforts, is a body mainly composed of the children not simply a reform in point of taste, that, if the diffe- of the classes below it-promoted in consequence of inrent classes are to fare differently, they should each dustry, enterprise, and general merit. The higher enjoy it apart, so as at least to shut out the view of class, again, is continually recruited from the middle those comparisons which are justly said to be odious? one. Even in the classes below the latter, there is a Past mishaps, it is said, are easily forgotten. Thus continual movement upward, the child of the unskilled it is, perhaps, that we lose sight of the vast extent of labourer becoming the ingenious well-paid artisan of popular misery which every now and then attracted at- the next age. Many transitions there are even more tention in former times, as it does now. The poor you startling; and certainly it is not uncommon to see men shall have with you always,' was pronounced nearly two in the high position of legislators, whose fathers were thousand years ago. To keep, however, nearer our own poor men all their days. time-hear how Jeremy Taylor described the sufferings But the high, it is said, are now divided from the of the many in what are thought to be the better days humble, and keep them at a distance, which was not of England. If we could,' says he, from one of the the case in former times. We have shown that much battlements of heaven espy how many men and women fallacy exists regarding the associations of the rich with at this time lie fainting and dying for want of bread, how the poor in past ages. It was attended by distinctions many young men are hewn down by the sword of war, which would have made their separation preferable. As how many poor orphans are now weeping over the far as local residence is concerned, there is a greater graves of their father, by whose life they were enabled division than there was. The advance of taste in their to eat; if we could but hear how many mariners and habits of life has also placed the rich personally more apart passengers are at this present in a storm, and shriek from the poor than they once were. In these respects out because their keel dashes against a rock, or bulges the alleged separation is a truth. As far as real feeling under them; how many people there are that weep with on the part of the rich towards the poor, and actual want, and are mad with oppression, or are desperate by exertion of benevolence in their behalf, are concerned, too quick a sense of constant infelicity-in all reason we we believe the allegation to be the reverse of the truth. should be glad to be out of the noise and participation The fact is, that, till the present time, the state of the of so many evils! This is a place of sorrows and tears, humbler classes was little regarded at all by the affluent. of great evils, and a constant calamity,' &c. Certainly, Howlett, Davies, Eden, and a few others, wrote on this whatever be the present condition of the agricultural subject to a languid public. At an earlier period, labourers of England, it is no falling off from the past. the subject had no place in literature, and hence, we Arthur Young, the Rev. Mr Howlett, and the Rev. Dr may infer, none in public regard. How different is the Davies, who wrote about this class at various times case at the present day, when philanthropists, legisladuring the latter half of the last century, invariably tors, and great societies formed from the miscellaneous describe their condition as one of great wretchedness. public, are giving the most earnest attention to the Arthur Young considered it as inferior to that of the subject! Nor is the movement confined to speculation. Irish peasant. Stephen Duck, the poet, tells us that he The positive beneficences of the present generation of worked at threshing in Wiltshire, about 1730, at 3s. the upper and middle classes put all past experience to a-week. In former times, there were not those masses shame. Even that personal attention to the wants of of wretched people in the large towns which form so the poor which is attributed to past times, may be said appalling a feature of our time; but this does not imply to have undergone only this change in the present day that the wretched were then fewer in proportion to the-that the duty is mainly in the hands of clergy men, population. We forget, when we hear of the miserable missionaries, directors of sick societies, leisurely ladies, huddlings of the poor in the Cowgate of Edinburgh, the and other individuals; a change implying only an allowynds of Glasgow, the cellars of Liverpool, the rookeries cation of the labour, not its cessation. A busy merchant of London, that for thirty years past vagrancy has does not go much among the poor himself, but he subbeen everywhere sternly put down. The poor are only scribes liberally to those who have time to do so. A driven off the roads and out of the country into the country gentleman sees, perhaps, little of the insides of large towns, which, in such circumstances, have become his cottagers' houses, but his wife and daughters are their sole refuge. At the beginning of the last century, continually visiting them, and they furthermore mainthe vagrants of Scotland alone were estimated at a tain a school in the village, and even in some instances hundred thousand, or about a twelfth of the whole become its teachers. The humbler classes are often people. About 1770, they continued to be so numerous, spoken of as everywhere neglected, if not oppressed, by that a relative of the present writer, who occupied a the rich; whereas, in reality, the succour of the poor, large pastoral farm on Tweedside, seldom passed a and their moral and physical improvement, are about night without having to entertain half-a-dozen beggars, the most engrossing subjects of thought and of exertion wool-gatherers, wandering idiots, and other miserables, in our day. |