The Welshman

IIOLLALLUCGRWYDD DCV. Pwy roddodd i'r ITaulweri ei gnnol-d.lydd oku ? Pwy dilysgodd i'r UtJatl lewyrchu'n v nes Pa ddwylaw a wisgodd y neiocud wyhrenawl A ser, fel rhyw euraWi ddeiuynau, yn dlos ? Pwy barodd i'r gwvntoedd en ffyrdd i adnabod ? Y ceft.for i wybod ei ianw a'i drai A'r dydd a't. nos oradw o fewn ell terfynau ? Ac idd y tymorau eu eylchoedd lieb lai? A allai dyn ddeall v hwriad arleidrawl ? A fedrai gydunaw'r mawr beiriant o dde 1 Ymrstvii ei ddwylaw o hpg,"1I i begwri, Ac archi oil iddvnt i droi yn ell lie ? Eill dyn <ryfansoddi a'r oil o'i fedrusrwvdd Y gwaelaf udarer a dyi! Neil wrth ei iwvi l ys i a l w i fn d e l i.a<'tl\ Y llei.d' wybedyn, net; yate wad Yr Anrl.vydd a roddodd ddechreu;:d croadigneth, R!1W!I lwiiodd pin pelhui rvteddol yn syw; Ac hefyd an'.dlodd trwy'r cvr'an yallur.wg, Y gwych debygolrwydd f) enaid t ~a nyw. Wei ynte, ynisrytn-vn i'r Arglwydd rh.-goraw!! I'r Duw tragywyddawl rhown fuliuit yn bur! Yr hwi a ddoe?.? d'urH?dd a'i dd?yt .w K-dkia??, Haul, Hoer, a ser diril", a dyfnfor, a thir. lf;tL)I. !er, a ser dirif, iL dyfiifor, ?t tiiir.  1.J 1.\ GO. I. r, IAGO.

CJ ATIIEBISiGS. A PROPOSAL KY i'Rexy, ( From the Adventures of Charles O'.Malley.) "Here we"!1 be quite cosey, and to ourselves," said Mr. Blake, as pJ¡¡citlg.1 chair 1')1' me, he sat down himself, viÍth the air of a man resolved to assist, by advice and counsel, the dilemma of some de'r ftiëlld. After a few wlilcii, like. a breathing canter before a race, serves to get your courage up, and settle you well in your St.at, I opened my negoci- ation by some very broad and sweeping truism about the misfortune of a bachelor existence, the discomforts of his position, his want of home and happiness, the necessity or his one day thinking seriously about marriage; it being in a measure almost p? inevitable a termination oi the free and easy career ot his single life as transportation for seven years is to that of a poacher. l'ou ciiiizipt go on Nir/saidi 'trespassing forever upon your neighbours' preserves; you must be apprehended sooner or later, therefore, I think, the better way is to get out a license." Naver war a small sally of wit more thoroughly suc- cessful. Mr. Blake laugh d tiii he cried, and when he had done wiped his eyes wiih a sniffy handkerchief and cried till he laughed again. As. somehow, I could not '-once.d trom myselt a suspicion as to the sincerity of my triend's mirth, merely consoied myself with the French adage, d¡at he la::ghs best who Liugos )ast; and WlIt adage, !.hatheia.:gh.s best w!?oi.tng ,is last; an d went f It will nqt he deemed surprising, sir, that a man cotite to the discovery I have just mentioned much more rapidly by lIaving enjoyed the pleasure of intimacy with your family; not only !.y the example of perfect domestic happiness presented to him, but by the prospect held out that a,i heritage of the fair irts which adorn and grace married life, may reasonably be looked tor among the d.T"hters of those, themselves the realization of con- jugal felicity.' "• ilere was a eantcr, with a vengeance; and as I felt blown, I slacked my pace, coughed and resumed. Nliss Mary Blake, sir, is then tlieobject ofniy present communication: she it is, who has made an existence that seemed fair and pleasurable before, appear LlauKand unprofitable without her. I have, therefore,—to come at once to the point,—visited you this morning, formally to ask her hand in marriage: her fortune, I may observe at once, is perfectly illluiaterial-a matter of no conse- quence (so Mr. Biake thought also); a competence fully equal to every reaso,)Il)ie iioti,,ii (,f "•There—there don't—don't,' said Mr. Blake, wiping his eyes with a sob like a hiccup. dout speak of money. ( i o",t s,)cak of I know what you'd say a handsome settlement-a well- secured joiafure, and ail that. Y es, yes, I feel it all." \Vhjr*;s, sir. I believe I may add, that every thin0" in this respect will answer your expectations." '"Of course—to be sure. My poor dear Baity how to do without her. that's the rub. You don't know O'Mallev, what that girl is to me—you can't know it; you'll feel it one day, though—that you will." "'The devil I shall;' thought I to myself. '"The great point is, after all, to leara the lady's dispo- sition in the initter- "'Ah, Charley! none of this with me. you slv dog:' I- oil think I don't know you. Why I've ")cen vitcliiiig- that is, I have seen—no, I mean lve heard—they--thev —: people will talk, you know. "'Very true, sir. But. as I was going to remark-, Just at this moment the door opened, and Miss Babv herself, looking most anoyingly handsome, put in her head. Pi, w,re waiting breakfast Ah, Charley, how ,d'ye do ?' "'Come in, Babv." <;aid Mr. Blake; 'you have'nt given me my kiss this morning.' The lovely girl threw her arms around his neck, while her bright and Sowing locks fell richly upon his shoulder. I turned rather sulkily away: the tiling always pro- vokes me. There is as much cold sdiih crufity in such cormn publico endearments, as III the luscious dis- play 01 rich rounds and sirloins inachophonse, to the eyes ot the starved and penniless wretch without, who, with dripping rags and watering lip, eats imaginary slices, while the pains of hunger are torturing him. Ther," Tim said Mr. Blake, suddenly. 'Tim Cronili Tim!' shouted he to—as it seemed t me—an imaginary individual out.-ido; while, in the eigeritess ot. pursuit, he rushed out of the study, banking the door as lie went, and leaving Baby and myself to our mutual edification. I should have preferred it being otherwise; but as the Fates willed it thus, I took Baby's hand, and led her to) the window. Now tli,-re is one of mv country- men which, having recognised strongly in myself, I would fain proclaim; and writing, as I do,—however little people may suspect tiie,- so!Iy for the sake of the monl, would gladly warn the unsuspecting against. I mean, a very decided tendency to become the consoler, the confident of young ladies; seeking out opportunities of assuaging their sorrows, reconciling their afflictions, breaking eventually passages to their ears not from any inherent pleasure in the tragic phases of the intercourse, but for the semi-tenderness of manner, that harmless hand-squeeziug, that innocent waist-pressing, which is like salmon without lo)jstL:r-ii t"ll.jg maimed, wanting, and imperfect. Now whether this with me was a natural gift, or n-,erely 'a way in the army,'as the song says. I shall not pretend to say but I venture to affirm that a few men could excel me in the practice I speak of some five and twenty years ao. Fair reader, do pray, if I have the happiness of being known to you, deduct them from any '('Li, Cle(itiCt t l leln Ll y age before you abstract from my merits. ell, Baby, dear, I have just been speaking about you to papa. es, dear,— don't look so incSirjjdidous,— even of your own sweet self. Well, do y" ou know I almost prefer voir hair worn that way; thoge same silky masses look better faning thus lieavily- There now, Charley! ah, don't' u. Wen, Baby, as I was saving, before you stopped me, I have been asking your papa a very important question, and he has reierred me to you fur the answer. And now will you tell me, in all frankness and honesty, your mind on the matter ?" She grew deadly pale as I spoke these words; then suddenly flushed up again, but said not a word. I could perceive, however, from her heaving chest and restless manner, that no common agitation was stirring her bosom. It was cruelty to be silent, so I continued. '"One who loves you we)!, Baby dear, has asked his ewn heart the question, and learned that without you he has no chance of happiness; that your bright eyes are to him bluer than the deep sky above him that your soft voice, your winning smile—and what a smile it is!—have taught him that lie loves, nay, adores you. Then, dearest. —what pretty fiugers those are! Ah: what is this! I never saw that ring before. Baby." -1 011, thit,- 's;lid.,iie, blushing deeply, 'tli:it is a riii-,Ir the foolish creatine Sparks gave ine a couple of days ago; but I don't like it I don't intend to keep it.' So saying, she endeavoured to draw it from her finger, bilt ill vaill. B tit why, Baby, tr h v take it oi l 1 is it to give him the "Blit why, Ihby, '?;')¡V titke it (),1'? i it to give him the P^leasure of puiting it on again ? There don't look an<>ry j we must not fall (,,ut No, Charley, it you are not vexed with me—if you are -No, no, my dear Baby; nothing of the kind. Sparks wa^ quite right in not entrusting his entire fortune to mv ?ptomac?. but, at least, he ought to have told me that he had opened the ne?ciation. Now t?e qnesu?nsimpiv il Do you love him or rather, because that shortens .,ou accept hnn Love who '• • Love whem! VTT.y Sparks, to be sure. T "A hash of indignant surprise passed aemss her features, now pale as rnar'd e her lips were slightly parted her large full eve" were fixed u p on me steadfast l y; and her hand, which I had Iwld in mine, the suddenly with- die-.v from mv grasp. And so—and so is ]of Mr. Sp:'rkscause you are so ardently the advocate ?' said she, at length, after a pause of a most awkward duration. Why, of course, my dear cousin. It was at his suit and solicitation I called on your father; it was lie himself who intreated me to take this step; it was BIIt before I coul:1 conclude, she burst into a torrent of tears, and rushed from the room. "Here was a situation! What the deuce wis the matter? Did she, or did she not, care for him ? Was her pride or her delicacy hurt at my being made the means of communication to her father ? What had Sparks or to put himself and me in such a devil of a predicament? Could she care for any one else ? W en, Ch:!rlv!' cried lfr. Blake, as he entered. rubhin-r his bands in a perfect paroxysm of good temper. 'Wet! Chnrtey, has love-making driven breakfast out of your head ?' "Why, faith, s ir, I greatly fenr I have blundered in my mission sadly. My cousin Mary does not appear so perfectly satisfied—her manner I)ori't tell me siicli iiianner! Why, man, I thought you were too old a soldier to be taken in that w,,iv.' VVell, then, sir, the best thing, under the circumstances, is, to send over Sparks himself. Your consent, I may tell is ,il!-ea(lv ol)t.,titied.' Yes, my boy: and my daughter's is equally sure. But 1 don't see what we want with Sparks at all: among- ulll friends and relatives, as we are, there ts no need of a stranger.' A stranger! Very true, sir; he is a stranger; but when that stranger is about to become your son in law "'About to become what?' said Mr. Blake, rubbing his spectacl's,-and placing them leisurely over his nose to regard me; 'to become what?' Your son in law. i hope I have been sufficiently explicit sir, in making known Mr. Sparks' wishes to you.' Mr. Sparks! Why, damn niefc sir—that is—I beg pardon for the warmth —you—you never mentioned his name to day till now. You led me to suppose that—in i'act, you toid me most clearly "Here, from the united efforts of rage and not a struggle for concealment, Mr. Blake was unable to pro- ceed. and walked the room with a melodramatic stamp perfectly awful. Really, sir,' said I at last, while I deeply regret any misconception or mistake I have been the cause of, [ must in justice to myself say, that I am perfectly uncon- scious of having misled you. I came here this morning with a proposition for the hand of your daughter in Le!jf of-' Yourself, sir! Yes, yourself. I'll be 110! I'll not swear; :)IIt- but just answer me, if you ever men- tioned one word of Mr. Sparks; if you ever alluded to him till the last few minutes. "I was perfectly astounded. It might he; alas! It was exacdy as lie stated, [u my unlucky effort at ex- treme di licacy, I became only so very mysterious, that i left the matter open tor them to suppose thai the khan of Tartery was in love with Baby. "There was but one course now open. I most humbly apologised for my blunder; repeated, by every expression I could summon up, my sorrow for what had happened and was beginning a renewal of negotiation 'in rt Sparks, when overcome hv his passion, Mr. Blake could he;flr no more, but snatched up his hat, and left the room." AMERICAN ME.M.S. 1 The succession of meals at this most abundantly supplied establishment is such, that with the Exception ot a few hours duringthe dead of night, a man of powerful digestive organs could, with a little management and occasional change of place, easily contrive to blend all the five repasts of the dcv into one. From the earliest breakfast at seven, unt'l the latest supper Ions; after midnight,thereis scarcely ativ ecesatiotl. And yet that most impnrtallt meal of all—that meal at which aldermen trembled while they gaze"—is the only one which in America is hurried over; and hurried over it is with most inhuman haste. All manner of good things are set -Oil, but no time for reflection or selection is alFordecf you. Promptitude of decision is your only chance; no hanging fire permitted — decks cleared — dessert produced, consisting of peaches, pears, apples, j almonds, iced creams, &c. but, alas! the same system is continued— ffohbte, julp, and go, is still the order of the day.- Colune{ Ma:nre!l's Run through the United States. GOD'S GOODNESS. When we witness the many dangers which threaten the springing of the rising corn; whell we reckon up ill ollr thoughts the opposite dangers of drought or moisture, of parching heat or of pinching and untimely cold; the blights which may taint the ear; the wcr.n which may consume the root: and all the other alarms which the husbandman feels or fears, we cannot but be aware that something more than the industry of man is required to make him happy or prosperous, and that it ii good with reason, that in our daily prayers we ask our daily bread" ot (lou since no day in the year can be found in which his blessing is not needed, either to preserve the seed or to prosper the tender stalk; or to fill the ear; or to re- buke the mildew, or the storm, by which the maturer crop is endangered. And, even when the food of many days is waving before our eyes, v,,e cinnot clioo,.c but feel an anx: us joy, a solemn, and in some degree a mournful thankfulness, when we compare our unworthy lives with the unbounded mercy of God; when we recollect how little and how seldom we have thought ofiiiiu, whocareth for us continually and when we tremble, even now, our sins should interrupt the stream of iris mercy,and the improper use which we too often make or plenty, shmdd, even yet, turn our abundance into hunger.—UUhuu lither. RNCSENT J.T\TK or T;IE SAMARITAXS. Since the days of Pocock this sect has gradually dwindled away, and will probably soon become extinct. I I ne Samaritans are now reduced to a very small com- miinity; there being only 30 men who pay taxes, and few, if any, who are exempt; so that then- whole number cannot be reckoned at over 1-18 ouls. One of them is in affluent circumstances; and, having been for along time chief secretary of the ?vlatesellim of Nabullus, became one of the most important and powerful men of the province. lie had recently been superseded in his Influence with the governor by a Copt, and now held only the second place. He was called el-'Ahd es Samary. The rest of the Samaritans arc not remarkable either for their wealth or poverty. The physiognomy of those wc saw was not ewisli nor indeed did we remark in it any peculiar character, as distinguished from that of other natives of the country. They keep the Saturday as their Sabbath with great strictness, all no labolir nor trading, nor even cooking or lighting a fire, but resting from their employments the whole day. On Friday evening they pray in thei- houses; and on Saturday have public prayers in their synagogue at m rning, noon, and evening. They meet also in the synagogue on the great festivals, and on the new moons but not every day. The law is read iti not evei-v Sabbath-day, but only upon the same festivals. Four limes a year they go up to Mount Gerizin (Jabel ct l'ur), in solemn procession to worship; and then they begin reading the I.iwastheys?-ton.and nniRh it above, llie-e seasons are—the feast ot the Pas(lver, when they I)itcli t?'I it upon the mountain aH night, and sncrince spven??tubs at s'mset: the (by of Pentecost; the feast of Tabernacles, when they sojourn here in booths built of branches of the arbutus; and. lastly, the great day of Atonement in autumn. They still maintain their ancient hatred agrunst the JewL, accuse them of departing from the law in not sacrificing the Passover, and in various other points, as well as of corrupting the ancient text; and scrupulously avoid all connection with them. OMINOUS OCCURENCES. It is c m-ncn for the philosopher (and we refer to 1 Guizot's Laiures on Civilization t'^r authority",) to divide society into f,)iir elemetits-tile Monarchical. Aristocra- tical, Commercial, and }:clesiatical. The I"isbtnre is included in the first-the territorial and military pover in the second—the money interest in the third— and the Church in the fourth. Now each of these four depart- ments has had its representative building or de- stroyed by fire since the year 1831-. And the buildings have been so phi/csoj>bic(illii selected by the devouring clement, that Guizot himself, with all his learning and diplomatic sagacity, could not have made a better cJcc- tion. The Parliament Ilouse, which was destroyed in was the representative of the legislative and poli- tical power of the country. A palace, being merely a private residence, would not have been adapted lor such a representative sacrifice. It was the only building in the country which could represent the supreme power, and it was annihilated. Next c ime the R)yiJ E:u:hange —and no other building in the country, nay, in the world, could compete with it as the representative of Mammon, the god of wealth and of individual selfishness. It also suffered—and not a vestige was left of the ancient structure. Next came the conflagration of York Cathe- dral, the finest archiepiscop d cathedral in the country— •ilia material sense the hrst. its destruction, however, was only partial: it was "saved, but so as by fire," as the Church itself expects to be saved. La ;t ot all comes the Armoury of the Tower. No other armoury, no other budding in the country, could so well represent the milie tary, feudal, and aristocratical power of society as this: its destruction is total. Here, then, are the four elements of society, symb hcally consumed by fire since the year ofsoc i in the following order:— The Monarchical, the Commercial, the lh c'esiastical, and Aristocratical. If this do not alarm the Oineiutes, what can ? They could net have obtained more striking omens if they themselves iiad made the selection and applied the torch to the fated bui.dings. If the reader inquire what we mean to irgue irons tins, v»e answer, Nothing at all." We clou t mean to argue — we are merflv writing our "Review of the Week." It is a bit of in: cresting gossip; and we may finish it by saying, til t, on Thursday -last, the City was alarmed by the report that the Gnildhall was on fire! The report was true. The roof was pifrtly injured hv the flames, wdiich were, however, fortunately extinguished. Now this would have represented.the destruction of the municipal, had it been burnt. I'nt then the philosophers includ:* the municipal in the commercial; so that the fire was not altogether necessary, and therefore it did not insist upon the- destruction of the Guildhall. I)-tit it gIN,e the Aldern :en notice to quit notwithstanding; and they did quit, too-. Iffire continue manifest such unequi. vocal proofs of philosophical acumen, we should not be surprised if the Are worship were soon restored, for there is sonieth.ing exceedingly intelligent in the pyrological ati_airs of the cojntry f.'r the last seven years, even up to the false alarm at Guildhall on Thursday last. But in our d ssertation upon fire we must not forget the number of churches which have been burnt within the last two years. York Cathedral was most conspicuous, but it had numerous f llow-victims, both in England and Scotland. These we need not enumerate, but the list is very great; and one Scotch town lost three of h: places of worship in one night. Nor is it vulgar or common fire alone that produces these alarming conflagrations, but the Prome- thean fire itelf. direct from heaven, has assisted in the work of destruction, as if to show to the hesitating mind, that all the rest had a providential origin. Only a few weeks ago, Liverpool had two of her churches struck by tier c l iurc l ,es struck by lighning, and one of the spires cleft in twain. The Four Powers are evidently in a crisis. The very same sort of events happened at the time of Luther's Reformation; and when some of the Omenites of that day expressed their concern to his holiness upon the s ibiect, Leo hup;hed, al1(I called them old wompn. and told them to repair the mischief that the elements had done: but more mischief was soon after done than the monks have been able to repair. IT ore. We should hope i'of cverythi. g that i> good, sa\ the t old poet Sinus, necause there irahing but what may be hoped gods arc able to give us. Hope quickens nil the still narts of life, and keeps de mind awake in her 1110f:t remiss and iLùolcn hours. It is a kind ot vital heat in the sou! that cheers and ¡;1:HldclIs her when she does lifft attend to it. It makes pain easy and labwur pleasant. When Caesar hail given away all his estate in gratuities to his friends, one of them asked him what he had left for himself, to which that great man answered, Hope. CHINESE IDEA OF DEATH. I A Chinese convicted of a crnil lIIurdcr had been sen- tenced to he transported for life. His friends, who sought to procure a mitigation of his punishment solicited Pro- fessor Kidd to use his supposed influence, as an English- man, with the Governor, on hehalf of the criminal. He urged, however, the aggravated nature of the offence as a reason why he could not conscientiously ask any such thing, even if he were sure of success; and suggested that it might be a matter of thankfulness that the criminal was not hanged. The latter immediately replied, tint he considered this a severer punishment than death; for, in that case, his parents, who were living, could have performed his funeral rites, and the usual offices at the tomb; but that lie would new he deprived of that com- fort, while they would also be totally cut oil' from all in- tercourse with their son after death, as well as in life. THE EDITOR'S STRATAGEM. We believe it is not true, as has been stated, that Mr. Hook was the editor of the John Bull from its commence- ment. lIe was, in conjunction with Mr. Croker, of the Admiralty, one of its earliest contributors; but it was not until some time afterwards that its sole management was intrusted to his care. He in some measure changed its character, greatly retrenching its personalities, and was more anxious to render it remarkable for quiet and ii offensive humour, than to sustain its reputation for keen satire and scandalous stories. With all his circum- spection; however, he was sometimes involved in awkward positions by the responsibilities of editorship, but wdiich he contrived to ccar" with his accustomed tact, often making the mode of his deliverance serve as an admirable jest. On one occasion a thin-skinned gentleman, who conceived 1Ji, conduct had been commented all with too much ireedom, called at the Bull offic:, and inquired tor the editor. The publisher, guessing his errand from the fierceness of his demeanour, and the stout horsewhip he held in his hand, informed the choleric gentleman tint the editor was not then at the ollice, but might probabiy be seen at twelve o'clock next day. Punctually at the appointed hour, the getitlcnian, horsewhip in hand, ar- rived, and was shown upstairs into an empty room. After waiting some minutes in anxious suspense, the door .-Jowly opened., and a fine young fellow, of Herculean proportions, entered the room in his shirt sleeves. The courage of Lhe visitor at once sank below zero at such, at- unexpected apparition, and he civilly inquired of the young giant before hit;) if he was the editor. P-edad, I am the edithur," was the reply in a strong Irish accent, "at your sarcice."—" said the gentleman, trembling in every limb as he saw the fellow cooliy tuck up his shirt sleeves, display arms that would have felled an ox without difficulty-, and then spit in hi: Iumds as he clenched them, and placed himself in a fighting attitude, ("Impossible! you can't be the editor." Hut the reply was sti'l the same, Faith I am the edithur, at your sarcice," the last word being delivered very significantly. The visitor, utterly panic-struck, retreated towards the door as the "edithur" advanced, then abandoned his horsewhip, and rushed precipitately out of the house, leavh.T Hook, who h-»d been a witness to the scene, in a closet of the room, half suffocated with langht.u' at the success of his stratagem. i.ovi; AND VENGEANCE. Two young persons of the same tribe loved each other, and were betrothed in marriage: their passion was open and avowed, and known to all their trier.ds, who had con- sented to their union, and even fixed the period for its celebration. It happened one evening that they met, accidentally, alone, but in sight of all ti e tents: they stopped a moment to speak to each other, and were on the point of passing on, when the brothers of the pari per- ceived it, rushed out, with arms in their hands, to avenge their LI''i",)e young man to"k to flight, and escaped with a musket-wound; but the poor ?Irl received five b:d!s in her body, besides being mangied by the d.T?ers of her own brothers, who had rimed to plunge them in her heart; and when she. fell, they abandoned her carc':s? to the dogs! The young man gained the tent of a poA-erful fricnd, ?he chief of another tr'hp, encamped near them, and told his story; begging that he would assist him with a troop of horse, to enable him to rescue the body of his love trom its present degradation. He •yet;r, accompanied by some of his own people, and found He then repaired to the tent of her enraged brothers, and asked them why they had done tins t They replied, that they could not suffer their sioter to survive tne loss of her honour, which had been stained by 11, stcpp;ng to talk with hoi intended husband, on the public road, before her marriage. The lover demanded her body for burial; when her brothers, susoecdng the motive, exclaimcd, 11 is she not yet lifeless?—then we will finish this work of deato;" and were rushing out tr. exec lite tikiI' purpose, wileo t'ne youth caused the troop of horsemen, sent to aid his purpose, to appear, and threatened instant death to him wl'.o should, first stir to interrupt his design. The young girl w as conveyed to his tent, and, after a series cf kind attentions, slowly re- covered. During her illness, the distracted lo-er, now erpelled from his own tribe, came, under cover of the night, to see her; ant!, weeping over her wounds, con- tinually regretted that he. had. ,o base as to seek his >afc;y in flight, and not* to have' died in (efeiiditi,, her. She as heroically repiled, '• No, no! It is my highest happiness taat I have suffered, and that you have escaped; we shall both live, and heaven yet bless us with many pledges oi our lasting love." i'ius really happened; the girl recovered, was married to her impassionate swain, anil they are still lnih alive, wi th a numerous family of children. So romantic a tale of love, jealously, revenge, fidelity, arid heroism, would have been incredible, were it not that the panics were ail known to Mr. Maseyk, who related it; that he did so in the presence of many other persons b-Jrn in Aleppo, and acquainted by report with the fact; aul that the veracity of the narrator mav be regarded as unquestionable.—Ev.clcvujham's '/ravels in .11 tSu¡Jutam la.

a C 55 A P S. A young lady asked a gentleman which he thought the prettiest tlover, roses^ or tulips ? Your ladyship's two tips," lie re¡:Jicd, betore all the roses in the world." A gentleman who fancied hirnseif a pendulum always went upon tick, and never discovered his delusion until he was "wound up" in the Queen's Bench! ill you take apuieh ?" said an acquaintance, offering his snuff-box to a Cullercoats fishmonger. No, I thank you," replied the latter, I h;lVe just had one trom a iobster. The Buffalo Advertiser has an account against a com- mission-iigent who is not very anxious to pay the money The editor therefore■ offers him a commission of ."viper cuill. coi tit to a letter Dick, Some xcax prav lend to me c" i nave not, Tom, a si'Ujle-stick, Or w,.cc".S ',i give to tl"ec. K'.rr.KpRtss.—The wise and active conquer diiffculties by daring to attempt them. Sloth and folly shiver and shrink at the sight of toil and hazard, and make the iiu- possibility they fear. Two ladies of Snndgatc disputing lately on the ruprc- tabdity of each ether's family, concluded the debate' in till, f* I'd have you kliGW that I've an IIncle a bannister of the law." Much about your bannister, retorted Mrs. Doyle: "havetft I a first cousin a corridor in the navy ?" A soidier, during a campaign, stole a shirt from a firmer who required him to make restitution. The soldier re- fused. Well," said the farmer, if you won't pay for it now, you will at the day of judgment." Faith," said the ready rogue, suiting the action to the word, "if you'lJ trust me so long, I'll just take another MAURIED.— Mr. Large to Miss Little— If Fate should sparing be of ill, And ot good luck profuse, Thin Large arid Little union will A little Large produce. PIIRFNOLOOY. — As a phrenologist and his friend were conversing, the latter said to the former, "Did it never occur to you, to rap 011 the head those who came to sub- mit their skulls to ycur examination, by way of trying if they were empty ?" No, said the other, "It was not necessary; as 11 they had anything in their heads they would-trfVer nave come to mc;" An old gentleman of the name of Gould, having mar- ried a very young wife, wrote a poetical epistle to a to inform biin of it, ,iiiti concluded it thus- So j ou see, my dear Sir, t.'?ou?h i aM eighty years old, A?td ()?e;ncenininI"v?tv:t.h old Gould. To which his friend replied, A girl of eighteen may love it is true, ?l,ut believe me, dear Sir, it is Gold without U. VY hat word would make you sick, if you leave out o-- e of the letters ? Answer—M (usic). What sea would make a good sleeping room? Answer—Adriatic (a dry attic). Why is a short negrolike a white man ? Be- cause lie is not a tail (at all) black. -What letters used to be distributed at tournaments? Answcr-Lar;p S (largess). \i het word of ten letters can be spelled with ,ive ? Answer—X PUN C (expediency). |n what part of London should Quakers live ? Answer—In Halt- on Garden. Why has a clock always a bashful appear- ance?— Besause it always keeps its hands before its face. JUDGE JEFFERS OX THE JUDGMENT SEAT.The (.■hiuujo Ai.ierica* furnishes us with a portrait (a carica- turc, we presume,) of John Jefthrs, Esq., a h'sh j idichd o?icer 0. the repabiic of Texas:—This individual (savs our contemporary) is from New 1- rsey ?iiid if lie lived in the days of Hogarth, he might have been immor- tauzed in oil colours. He is four feet "ix inches hi?h, t.Illzc(l ill o' :I 'lie Is foul '?eet S;x i-?iclies a!i(I six 'with 1)?toriieii A-ortiy of' shirt, and Mexican chapeau, he looks the facsimile ot' the* Jack of (dubs, His nose resembles a vern?i?h pear half-way buried :u a basket of, rri,? s. M t*o .i-, ing is a report of proceedings bei?jrc hu?at the last Court:— liepuhlic of Texas" r I versus ] j- For stealing a mule. JIm Donngan, J The testimony was conclusive against the accused, ac.d the I prosecuting attorney declined summing up. Magistrate; Oll must speak on this case, or, d n me, I'll discharge the criminal. ou can't come it over old J eHers by lav- ing low and playing dummy. My judgment is, that the prisoner stole the mule; but as he is a poor man, this entirely does away with the criminal intention which constitutes a theft, as brother Bill used to say in the Jarsies, in similar cases—and brother %as a filst chop lawyer. Then, as there was no criminal intention, the mule will belong to the prisoner, and the prisoner will be discharged by paying costs of prosecution. The prosecuting attorney will be sent off to the brig (the brig is an old hulk, which was driven ashore in 1X37, the hold of which, in the absence of better accommodation, is used for a gaol), two days for contempt of C(Jllrt, ill":wt ,¡rguing the case and producing the law. TiJ tJrt will now adjourn all cases on the docket till more ;ic"e t'i,on,, New Orleans, for the Court prefers ice in liquor this Let weather, and the parties must bring it in liberally when it ai rives, or they will be ei :;<ed from the docket. Them's old jeffei's' sentaneiitL'. New ol-.tpe.

a rr.i'.p into mi sons. Trtc most practised ia the defection of those pranks of authority hich are said to mak the angels weep, would b: puzzled to discover worse cases of violation of law than are to be found in the administration of it—existing in the regulations or numerou !oriSOHs, with reference to b wtiess of ihet, the cmd construction of cells, and the extension of solitary confinement. As we propose to take another glance over the cases noticed by the inspectors, the ques- tion of diet, as the general grievance, and the most fertile source of complaint, may first be mentioned. The prisons in w hich it is reported to be dangerously low, include those at Bodmin, Bedford, Devizes, Edinburgh, Gloucester, Huntingdon, Ipswich, Shrewsbury, Swaffham, Warwich, Worcester, Wakefield, and many others; and although it cannot be said that the Magistrates in any case have adopted the experiment tried in the Penitentiary of lower- ing the diet, ia opposition to the surgeon's advice, yet it is abundantly evident that a reduced scale of diet has been maintained in many places so long, that the surgeon has only been called in to cure, not to prevent, malady—to save life, not to preserve health. These frightful evils have been partially rectified, yet they flourish in some places unabated. It still remains within the power of any two fantastic Magistrates to lower the diet till the surgeon cries out"-and he does not always cry out in The report from Gloucester says— Those who are in solitaiy confinemcnt for a fortnight gener- a!!y becom" "maciated, and very frequently suITer diarrhoea, but tLen they have only a pound and a halt' of bread, and a pint and a half of mint water Ii day, wl1ich is too little." What is the consequence of this" too little ?" That the surgeon, who has held office between thirty and forty years, and has great experience, "continually puts them on extra diet." Thus, discipline is upheld by a continual and enforced relaxation of its rules-a novel mode of pre- serving it. A low diet is maintained by constantly giving it up, and allowing extras. Are such tamperings with health and life-we will not say humane—but legal ? Clea.ly not where it is necessary to be continuahy putting them on extra dkt," tbe prescribed scale is con-I fesseJly too low. The keeper agrees that the prisoners are not /Ac same men q/c?'?ar? that ihey were ?e/??'f." The extra diet evidently comes too late. The Inspector found in the Devizes Rouse of Correction cases of illness throughout the year," and concludes that the diet was probably the chief source of the evil—the diet bread and water.. At his suggestion a pint of warm gruel was allowed to every prisoner at supper, and the beneficial effect was at once apparent from the surgeon's report. To approve this chauge is perhaps to sanction undue indul- 3* uce to convicts ? Only let us see of what it is composed rtrn .rnbering at tbe same time the surgeon's statement, that tiic prisoners are decidedly more free from illness in cons: r,uet.ee of its adoption." It is made from on ounce of oatmeal to one pint of water (IVel!-boilect, 11 j¡;ch is no unimportant point), and it is flavoured uith ginger and pepper alternately. The prisoners may use as much salt with it as they nlease. It is 'grateful and comtcuting to and costs only tmee farthings per head daily." Nearer home we are not better off. In the surgeon's quarterly report of the Westminster Bridewell (the date is Jll;, 1340) we find it stated that men. after they have bcru in prison from three to four months, constantly at the wheel, have bccome "weak and thin, and when they have undergone punishment, andhad "repeated stoppages of food," they have been very much attenuated. Out of cweuty-eight, fifteen had either extra diet frequently, or been inmates of the infirmary-more than oue half. The boys, also, who had been repeatedly in prison, had enlarged scrofulous glands.. "1 have n'so exracted from my monthly sick report the number of cases of diarrhcei and debility for the last six mouths, and 1 tied tlitin to lie—el ihe former, Hit 01 the lalter, Ey a mere change of food he conceived that the illness of the prisoners would decrease, and there would be "much less cmaciation." A strong word to figure in a surgical report. In Bedford County House of Correction the prevalent disease is petichia, or land scurvey a disorder which, though it is now exceedingly rare in this country, is always | to be found in this prison." It is a disorder very destruc- J tive to health, and the constitution which is affected by it is greatly broken down. The surgeon attributed it to the I strict discipline cf the prison, the scantiness of the diet, and the defective ventilation of the cells. The "strictness, f)ft!!fQ?c?Iine"may be inferred from the facts, first that the prisoners on the tread-wheel are exposed to sum mer's beat and wieter's cold and, secondly, that there are no rest-betc.l cs provided for them when off the wheel; they are compelled to walk round in a circle in the yards "adjoining the tread-wheel, during the interval a!fowu! for rest." The scantiness of diet prevails most at the com- mencement of the term of imprisonment, and the subsc- quent addition fails to restore health." From the subject of diet. we turn to the disclosures relative to solitary confinement—a point to which the utmost watchfulness should always be directed. It is apparent that the wise and necessary provisions of the law for the limitation of the punishment, and the due division of it into e rluraùle terms, are not invariably observed; and that magisterial will, or gaoler law, sometimes supersedes t)e iDtentiou of the Legislature. In the dnrk cell for the refractory (in Ipswich gaol) the inspector found a prisoner lying upon the floor-his fare was bread and water, and he had been there several days his offence was breaking windows in the union workhouse. He had made a noise in the night," and it was ordered that he be kept in a dark cell, solitary, during the whole term of his stay. The keeper had no written order" for I coanuirg him iu the dark so long. The chapter of acci- dents that governed the fate cf the inmates here may be interred from the eases of seven youths in solitary confine- mert, who had been commituJ fur refractory conduct in the workhouse. 1.1.—Has been here seven \V(\C::F. and 1£01 spntenced to four months v/solifary imprloJllrnt (i20 days and nights). Hg only 5e:n lLe keeper twice t'iie eiiaplain and surgeon have neve:" b.;n to bin; CHn read Hod write; has nù boolis takes exercise IUR fcn jr.rt¡te9 or a q!1arter o au hour jn the n10rn:np. when Id down Lo wash he bas on" pound aud a ijuarter of bread ami a quart of gTud daily. *'v G" aged 10.— Has beeu here seven weeks; been neither visited by chaplain nor surgeon is slltelJced to two months' imprisonment; cn read, but has no hooks. •' T. N., at;ed 17.—Can rend: hus a book, which was given him by one of the other prisoners, through the ventilation holes of the cell v. nen he was sleeping below has beeu ill and seen the doctor twice, seen the governor twice, but not in his cell, 0, G" aged 17.—Can read but r a no books; has neither been vijtert l>y chaplain nor surgeon ses the governor auout once a week. W. G., aped If».—Can read but has no books; has never seen the chaplain during the seven weeks he has been here the sur- geon has seen him twice when sick. E, S" aged Iii. Can read, hat has no book; has never been visited by the chaplum or surgeon has seen the keener twice. T. D. aged IS.—Cannot read; has neither been visited by chaplain 01 surgeon has seen Lhe governor occasionally." Their fare was bread and water at first, but gruel was alterwards allowed. The chaplain had received from the keeper h's order not to visit them—they were to see nobody the surgeon had merely heard that they were placed on the lower diet. For the cri-ne of refractory con- duct in a workhouse, one of these lads is condemned to pass one hundred and ticenti/ dayx in solitude—in a stone rcora, iron-barred, in the winter time; allowed to take I exercise in a court yard for a quarter cfan hour only the rest of the day, twenty-three hours and three-quarters, being spent in his ccld cell, without K-ork, without books, without occupation of any kind The law allows but three mouths of solitary confinement, not in one term, in a whole year; here, for refractory conduct in a workhouse, a sentence Of four months, in one term,is passed. What a boon would<J6kum- picking have been Would the indulgence of work, of any kind, have taught the miserable lad to be more refractory when released ? The probable result of such a merciless sentence must be iasanity. Suicide had been effectually guarded against. The gaoler knows what prisoners in that cell will do. It should not be soon forgotten, that u the course of last year 1"0 less than eight human beings were scat deranged from the Penitentiary to the Hauwell Lunatic Asylum. But grant that derangement be not in every instance th? consequence of such au incarceration vs puutence in any one instance to be expected? We rather concur in the conclusion to which the case of the Ipswich pauper leads—"despair and revenge enter into his soul, Swing has a good disciple, the committing magistrate an ui forgiving incendiary, and the Chartists a desperate convert." The condition of the cells frequently renders it necessary to interfere with the due executioa of the sentence passed by a court of justice. The inspector who visited Spring- field county gaol at nipht.some hours after locking-up time, found the atmosphere intolerable, notwithstanding the cleanlinci.s of the eelis and bedding. This was occasioned by the narrowness of the cells and the defective ventilation, The governor admitted their unfitness for the continued close confinement of prisoners. The surgeon declared that whosoever remained io them for a month must "suffer serious injury in point of health," and that the sentence of the court must be mitigated or remitted." The chaplain found the places so offensive that "at times he was unable to go into them," and his medical adviser had told him that the coating of his stomach had been seriously injured by the foul atmosphere he was under the necessity of inhaling. Yet the inspector, who pronounces the cells to be utterly unfit for close confinement, states the custom to be— V. hen the sentence does not exceed fourteen dnvs, the prisouer is on no occasion pcrmittpri to leave his ecll during the whole ot that term. If the sentence exceed fourteen days, the lirst. wpck is passed in the strict seclusion just described; and for the remainder of the term the prisoner is pcrmitteri to takp rX/7' iS° for a sllOrt time each day in the pasSilge adjoining his reports prove that the provision of the 2d and 3d Viet, did not come too early—"That no cell shall be used for the separate confinement of any prisoner which is not of such a size, and lighted, warmed, and ventilated, and fitted up in such a manner as may be required by a due regard to health, and furnished with the means of enabling the prisoner to communicate at any time with an officer of the prison." In Westminster Bridewell, often cited as one of the best in England, where the cleanliness rivals that, of the smartest man-of-war, and the discipline is exact, not rigorous," the cells are eight feet long by six wide, and nine and a half high, dimensions utterly incom- patible with health in separate confinement. In Yarmouth, says the report the deus are secured by strong wooden bars some of them are f ur feet six inches long, two feet eight v. ide, five feet eight high—shorter antlllllITOWer than coif.: s Other dens there are, eight feet two inches long— and in these from seven to ten persons have been placed at a time. I really thought." observed the keeper, they would have been suffocated." At Carlisle, the lock-ups are ten feet by seven feet three. Nineteen persons have been thrust into one of these cells at a time. The report from Louth runs— "The ceils usod lar olitary confinement are be'ow ground, damp, dark, al!d until for the reception of any hnm1l beiup. These wretched places are nine feet by six, and seven feet by six (tet ten bisjh. They are in sIIch a situation as to prevent any prionr trom bting heard iiy the officer. If a mall or woman were to be taken ill. I know how they arc to make then.- suves heard," says the turnkej." At Louth, as at Faikingham and other places, the debtors seem to have hten treated as criminals. We say have been; for after the presentation of these reports, it is impossible to conceive that the enormities they expose are still continued. In few, perhaps, are they abolished, though in mauy they may 'be abated. We copy an affecting passage relative to the treatment of prisoners in Su alTham gaol, that throws a strong light upon the whole system of prison discipline, as it existed at the period of ti,e •, ery tcccat reports—withiu two years. "A eons.miptive priscr-ei' is committed he is clad on his coming to the prison-pate in a ihnuei wafetcout; this is takeu frwii him; ad he is ii;veri:e'! wite a prison which gives no lianne!: he be^a most earnest!) to have it buck again, but this the prison regulations forbid and tLe gaoler i too couscielltions a man to inlririge ihein ir.ik.t.fi. il would be as much as his place is n'urtii. and, iu ali probability, had lie acted from his own souse an(! fr,)11 liis own discretion, hi: bad been di.3-f11issed:. The miserable niiii dil's soon aft,r not of course, through being deprived of such » superfluity, tiut of consumption; how sadly mrjravated his sntfr!rin,{:5 were, and how much accelerated Isis death. is neither known nor cared for. What is known and l');.) much eared l'or is, the uuifuiuiity of the prison discipline. In damp, cold ceils, unaiied, unwarmed, t1:tll1el waistcoats are not allowed and if feloniously brought in 01: the body of the offender; thev must be taken olf: 'they are contrary to the No comment upon this monstrous cruelty is necessary beyond the opinion of the surgeon, that from the exposure to cold and the sudden checks to perspiration, he is satisfied that injury has been done in some cases." He adds, that a poor man, "since dead of consumption, complained most heavily of the loss of it. This depti- vation, in many cases, must be equivalent to stopping the supply of food altogether, or refusing medicine during illness. A person accustomed to such a protection, and deprived of it upon being shut into a cold cell, is, though sentenced to undergo but one month's imprisonment, in reality sentenced to death. We add a passage from the Worcester report, which includes an instance of singular uncharitableness. Many complaints are commou here, owing to exposure upon the wheel. Rupture is very common, many come in with it. The surgeon thinks lie has furnished fourteen or fifteen trusses during the last quarter. The county takes away the truss before the prisoners leave, except from those who are to be transported. The surgeon has frequently seen rheumatic attacks brought on by sleeping in damp beds." Among the practices that deserve strong reprobation is that of administering the punishment of flogging imme- diately previous to the discharge of a prisoner. During his confinement he may have seen the folly of his conduct, his conscience has become tender, and a resolution to amend is the prevailing thought in his mind. Then comes the horror of the lash, smarting under which, he is to be cast out upon the world, penniless, and homeless. The chaplain oi the Devizes gaol touches feelingly upon this point. As the hour of liberation and flogging drew nigh, he has kuown the prisoner to become sickly and dejected, and every endeavour to recal him to his former attention to religious duties has been fruitless. He appears to feel that the chastisement is unjust and with a fore- knowledge of the consequences of the punishment on coming out into the world, he steels his heart for the occasion, and goes forth from the prison a hardened sinner. Examiner. —1

OBJECTIONS TO COMPLETE SUFFRAGE.-IG- NORANCE OF THE LABOURING CLASSES. [There has recently appeared in the Nonconformist a series of argumentative and conclusive articles on the Suffrage—the right duty and necessity of its extension, that it may be coeval and coequal with taxation." In the last number of our cotemporary, we find the following able article disposing of objections to complete suxrage.] We ha.e put in, on behalf of our unrepresented country- men, a claim to be invested with the franchise-we have proved that claim to have its basis in equity-we have defined its natural limits-we have pointed out the res- ponsibility incurred by the middle classes in withholding it —and we have hinted at some of the valuable moral results which may be anticipated from a prompt and practical recognition of it. This is our case. We might strengthen it with reasons drawn from other and widely different sources—but we have done enough to establish our posi- tion. We proceed, therefore, to hear and dispose of objections-in many instances honestly entertaiud in some, mildly and modestly urged-iii almost all, however, caught up hastily. imperfectly considered, and rooted rather in prejudice than in judgment. The first, in order as in importance, may be thus em- bodied in language. Affairs of state, involving the welfare of society at large, bearing upon innumerable interests, and affecting more or less the destinies of surrounding empires and of succeeding generations, require in these having control over them a high order of intelligence. Education must precede an extension of political power. The la- bouring classes are steeped in the most debasing ignorance. They would become tools in the hands of designing men- and great principles of policy, instead of being settled by culm discussion, by reason and argument, would be decided by numbers and by clamour. The objection implies a great deal that is not true— exaggerates facts which have some colour of troth-and leaves out of sight several considerations quite pertinent to the matter, which, being allowed their due influence, .completely neutralise the whole argument. When the ignorance of the labouring classes is urged as a sufficient plea for withholding from them the franchise, it is tacitly assumed that, under the present restricted sys- tem, affairs of state are mainly settled by the intelligence of our constituencies, are discussed with fairness, and decided upon according to their merits. Now the very reverse of all this is matter of notoriety. The middle-class constituency has done anything but prove its peculiar and exclusive fitness for political power. Is the last general election, we ask, to be regarded as an expression of their intelligence ? Are we to look to that as affording an illus- tration of the decision of nntiona) affaifs by argument and reason ? Are tnants-at-will invariably swayed by the simple merits of the question ? Do our tradesmen take into serious consideration the destinies of unborn myriads ? Are not nine votes out of every tea recorded as the result of influences which have no more connexion with the right and wrong of the matter they go to decide, than exists between Iceland and Tirnbuctoo ? Intelligence Take, now, the House of Commons and analyse the product of this intelligence. What had the legislative competency of these men to do with their elrction ? Aristocratic connec- tions, family influence, long and well-lined purses—who would dream of pitting intelligence against competitors so formidable as these ? One only question we would ask- would complete suffrage, as we have defined it, thrust into one assembly of equal numbers, an amount of stolid igno- rance, in reference to state policy, greater than that to which we, the middle classes, have committed the interests of Ibis mighty empire ? And when the accomplished se ators selected by the educated middle classes are assembled in council, where are we to find the proofs of their superiority to clamour and prejudice? They discuss matters, it is true—but does dis- cussion on an average influence one vote throughout a session? Party considerations decide everything. Poli- tical principles are only the bones over which they fight for mastery. What are the real merits of a question to the well-trained gangs, who flock at the sound of the division bell to vote upon matters of incalculable importance, from the discussion of which they have absented themselves? No No! The objection is not fairly stated. It is put as though the suffrage would decide the question of clamour versus intelligence. But the truh is, our present consti- tuencics give us little besides ignorance and party feel-' ing—complete suffrage could not give us worse. So much of the objection as must be admitted to be founded in truth is greatly exaggerated. That there i.s room for improvement, iu regard to the education of the labouring classes, none will pretend to dispute. We shall not insist upon their cultivated intelligence—although amongst our artisans, our manufacturing poor, there is a greatly larger amount of it than we of the middle class are apt to imagine. Taking the public meetings of operatives as a fait sample of the men, and, we say, that in point of shrewdness of reasoning, and power (vre will not say, polish) of expression, they will bear comparison with most that passes current among ourselves. But upon this v;e lay no stress. In all that concerns the mechanism of in- telligence—reading, writing, and arithmetic, there is un- doubtedly a sad deficiency among the labouring classes. But the real question is, or should be, what is the average competency of these men to form a correct judgment upon the soundness of great political principles, due in formation having been laid before them. That they may be usable to comprehend all the remoter bearings of particular lines I of policy is very probable—but then, as much may be said of the vast bulk of the middle classes. But empannel twelve of our unrepresented population, selected at ran- dom, in a jury, and argue before them the substantial merits of any great political question, can any man doubt that their verdict would be quite as likely to be just, as if the decision had been committed to a jury of ten pound householders ? The matter, however, need not be treated as one of mere speculation. Look back upon the past ten years. The masses even under the most disadvantageous circumstances, have evinced their sentiments upon the lending topics of politics which during that time have agitated the nation. Have they sided with ignoiauce or with intelligence? with justice or with injustice ? with selfishness or with genero- sity ? Reformers are the last persons who ought to plead the ignol ance of the industrious classes as a bar to their political elevation—for these classes have invariably given their voice for reformers, until the principles of reform were merged in party encounter. We aver without fear of contradiction, that popular opinion has during the whole of the reform era been invariably right,—has invariably coincided with reason—invariably sympathised with equity —and, ever, in those matters wherein they dififer with the middle classes, we should like to be-ioformcd on which side the strongest arguments may be found, and on which the most unreasoning prejudice? That their sentiments have been violently expressed we admit and we deplore- but let us remember that we allow them no legitimate mode of giving effect to the opinions they entertain. Lastly, the objection leaves a vast deal of truth cut of sight. It does not bring into view, as it ought, that we of the middle class practically regard it as destitute of force. We are constantly overriding our own objection. We do believe, whatever we may alledgeto the contrary, that the industrious classes arc competent to take rational views of leading political matters. Whenever we wish to carry a question, we address ourselves to them. We argue, we appeal, we illustrate, we supply information, without any notion that they are incapable of discerning truth. We organise them into societies. We make demonstrations of their unanimity. We encourage them to display their mind, with a view to influence the mind of the senate. All this proves that we do not regard them as incompetent to deal with national affairs. Now, since we practically af)- peal to their suffrage, it is too late to urge, when they claim to be allowed to embody it in a vote, that they are not sufficiently intelligent. We admit their intelligence when we address ourselves to the task of laying before them requisite information, when we ask their verdict; and, having obtained it, plead that verdict as an argument in our own favour. If the labouring classes are not suf- ficiently intelligent to vote, neither are they to be formed into associations, neither are they to sign petitious-and when we use them in these latter cases, we cut the throat of our own objection in reference to the suffrage. Nor ought it to he forgotten, that whenever the people of the country shall have power to decide upon the policy of the country, all parties will be interested in supplying them with information. Were they as ignorant as some people would fain persuade us they are, they would not be lung allowed to remain so. Men of different political views would rival each other in their efforts to enlighten and sway the popular mind. Reading would become universal. Conversation would take a far hitrher range than hitherto among the poor. Boys would grow up, influenced by the expectation of acting hereafter their part in national affair*. Political ignorance would soon become an anomaly—a re- proach—and our population instead of being the worst, would in less than two generations become the best edu- cated in Europe.