The Aberystwith Observer

A "FLOORER" FROM AMERICA.-THE STEAM RAM. The speech of Lord Hardwicke on our national defences aud the question of shot-proof steam rams still attract con siderable attention in naval circles—as will be scen from the subjoinedIt has often been stated publicly that the engine of destruction called the naval ram" was first invented by the Emperor of the French, and the idea of vessels propelled by steam, impervious to shot and shell from without, has been claimed as an original one by more than one. So much discussion has taken place on this head, that not only has the idea never been entertained that a vessel such as has been theoretically described actually practically exists, but the question of—Has Prussia, has France, has America, such a vessel? has been answered in the negative. The allegations in the following statement (which are made by a correspon- n dent of the Times) may, therefore, be new to our reader and, if so, may prove the means of awakening inquiry :— Not many years since there lived in America a rich mer- chant named Stephens. He suffered seriously in his pocket from sundry unfortunate collisions at sea, ana thus his at- tention was turned to the subject, and it occurred to him that the tremendous force of steam power might be turned to account in naval warfare in the same way. In a word, he conceived the possibility of building a steam ram, arid, alter long thought, lie communicated his ideas to the Govern- ment. These new-fangled notions were not appreciated, but Stephens was so impressed with the importance of the matter that he determined to set to work at once. Being a ncii man, he met with no seriolls obstacle, and ransacked the workshops of New York in search of first-rate and respect- able workmen. He bound them over to secrecy, and then threw up a high wall round the slip where he proposed to give reality to his idea. Year after year went by, and gradually the leviathan progressed. The steamer was to be shot-proof by means of iron-plates, and since then the man- ner in which those plates resist for hours the heaviest shot has become so notorious that I need dwell no longer on that theme. It was to be the largest steamer afloat, which, I need hardly say, it is not now, being surpassed by our Great Eastern, and it was to travel at the rate of twenty knots an hour-that is to say, faster than ocean steamers, though not so fast, for instance, as her Majesty's yacht. It was to be propelled by six powerful engines, to be sharp at the bow and stern, being a bed of iron at both extremities, carrying one monster gun, and a heavy, but not numerically strong, armament, after the Merrimac model. Such a vessel would be a fearful antagonist for even a fleet of three-deckers to meet with on the wide ocean, and all she would have to fear would be being laid aboard. To prevent this she was to throw streams of boiling water from her sides, so as to be unapproachable. The enterprise gradually progressed, but Mr. Stephens did not live to see it completed, although he was fortunate enough to have his conception approved by his country, and his expenses refunded, the American Government carrying out his idea. This mammoth naval ram is now nearly finished, a yearly sum having been allotted to the work—so nearly as to be ready for immediate use, and what a fearful power is thus possessed by America The facts I now advance are easily verified, and thus not only is the assertion nullified that no other country is further advanced in this branch of naval warfare than we are, but it I] becomes a question as to what effect such a vessel would ( have had on past, events. I cannot give the precise date when the lines of this monster ship were laid, but I know it f to have been progressing for at least ten years, consequently such a vessel would have been available during the late war, and another tale would then have been told of our naval 1 operations in the Baltic. What would have 'been its effect on the batteries of Sweaborg, of Cronstadt—nay, on the bas- tion of Sebastopol itself ? If the foregoing statement be correct, and, as the writer says, it can easily be verified, it is indeed singular that while we have been disputing as to who should have the merit of the conception, here is a great naval nation who has not only years since invented, but has realisecl ] the conception for which we are quarrelling, and while our orators are boldly asserting that such an engine of destruction does not fexist, probably Brother Jonathan is laughing in his sleeve with quiet self-complacency.

THE TAX ON PAPER. A very carefully written pamphlet on the Paper Duty has been issued by the Newspaper and Periodical Press Association, which has been established to secure its repeal, and is published by Mr. Ridgway. The com- mittee consults from time to time as to the best way to facilitate the object in view, and we may probably hear of some public action on the part of the association as the time draws near for the next meeting of Parliament. The pamphlet before us states the case for repeal, and gives a history of the tax and of the efforts that have hitherto been taken to get it destroyed. The injurious operation of the paper duty is also clearly explained, and so are the good consequences that would arise from its abrogation. We have marked the following pas- sages as worthy of quotation in this place THE ORIGIN OF THE PAPER TAX. The paper duty was first imposed in 1696, during the reign of William III., and consisted of 20 per cent. ad valorem on English, and 25 per cent. on imported paper, parchment, and pasteboard. Its object appears to have been to defray the increased expenditure caused y the wars which arose out of the revolution. It formed part of the system by which the burdens formerly borne by the nobility and gentry were made to fall upon the people at large with a fourfold weight, and not only to upon the productive classes, but to impede that very production on which all revenue must eventually epend. SEDITION AND THE PAPER TAX. Towards the end of the reign of Queen Anne, on the 17th January, 1711, there was a message from the Crown, and to that message there was a reply, which may be found in the journals of the House Mr. Samuel St. John informed the House he had a mes- sage. Her Majesty finds it necessary to observe how great license is taken in publishing false and scandalous libels, such as are a reproach to any government. This evil seems to be grown too strong for the laws now in force it is therefore recoinm-nded to you to find a remedy equal to the mischief. The answer of the House was as follows :— f We are very sensible how much the liberty of the press is abused, by turning it into such licentiousness as is a re- proach to the nation, since not only false and scandalous libels are printed and published against your Majesty's Go- vernment, but the most horrible blasphemies against God and religion; and we beg leave humbly to assure your Majesty that we will do our utmost to find out a remedy equal to the mischief, and that may effectually cure it. In fulfilment of their pledge, the House being re- solved into a grand committee to consider of that, pait of the Queen's message to the House, the 17th January Last, which relates to the great license taking in pub- lishing false and scandalous libels, Sir Gilbert Dolben being the chairman, they came to these two resolu- tions :— 1. That the liberty taken in printing and publishing scan- dalous and impious libels creates divisions among her Ma- jesty's subjects, tends to the disturbance of the public peace, is highly prejudicial to her Majesty's Government, and is oc- casioned for want of due regulating the press. 2. That all printing presses be registered, with the names of the owners, and places of abode and that the author, printer, and publisher of every book set his name and place r of abode thereto. THE PENNY PAPER AND THE TAX. The effect of the paper duty is oppressive in different degrees upon newspapers, pamphlets, and books that have to find a market, and on works which are not de- signed to pay, and on which, therefore, the duty is not so much a tax as a fine. Take a weekly penny paper, weighing fifteen copies to the pound each pound of paper pays three-half-pence paper duty to the Ex- chequer, so that the tax amounts to one half-penny for every five copies; on the 5,000 copies, the tax will be 1,000 half-pence, or 500 pence, or 41 shillings and eight- pence. Two pounds, one shilling and eightpence, mul- tiplied by 52, gives 1081. 6s. 8d., the annual paper duty paid by a penny paper circulating every week, 5,000 copies, at fifteen copies to the pound weight. The gross receipts of such a paper, supposing it to contain no ad- vertisements, would be about six times the paper duty, 6661. 13s. In any other business a profit of 6661. 13s. would pay income-tax at fivepence in the pound, or 2 08 per cent., which would be Hl. 16s. 3d. but the man who invests his capital in a penny paper must pay,' not 2'08 per cent. on his net profit, but 16 per cent. on his gross receipts. We have before us a penny daily paper, which weighs fourteen to the pound; suppose its cir- culation to be 20,000—that gives 6,260,000 copies per annum, equal to 447,1421bs., or as nearly as possible 200 tons, which at 141. 14s. per ton, gives an annual (ax of 2,940l. A SHILLING VOLUME AND THE TAX. The following may be taken as a fair estimate of the cost and returns of the first edition of 5,000 copies of a shilling volume, consisting of six sheets, or 192 pages :— COST. £ s. d. Composition, six sheets, at 31. per sheet 18 0 0 Printing and pressing sixty reams, at 5s. 15 0 0 Sixty reams 241b. paper, at 14s 42 0 0 5,000 wrappers, at 31. per 1,000, including design.. 15 0 0 Binding 5,000 copies, at 61. per 1,000 30 0 0 Advertising 10 0 0 Sundries 200 Total cost 132 0 0 The returns would be 5,000 copies, or 384 doz. and 8 (13 as 12) at 8s. 6d. per doz 163 9 8 Deduct total cost 132 0 0 Tpavinrp 91 <1 Q To pay publisher's and author's profit, and to cover the risk of the 5,000 copies being sold. RESULTS OF REPEAL. The repeal of the excise upon paper would set at li- berty a million of money per annum, now paid in duty, and half a million invested in paper extra, as profit on the tax. This new fund would seek productive em- ployment in paper making or other industry, and, if turned over twice per year, would give 20s. per week each to 57,692 who as heads of families, would represent 230,768 individuals. The extra production would cause extra imports, extra Customs and Excise duties, so that the repeal would not, even in the first year, be a total loss to the Government.

CHERBOURG: ITS ADVANTAGES AND DEFECTS. The real requirements of a military port and arsenal are building space, facility and power of equipment, and harbourage, either as shelter for a fleet, as a station for its preparation, a starting point for its operations, or a depot for its reserve. In building space Cherbourg ex- ceeds any one of our great dockyards. It has altogether eleven building slips, all available, and within a certain concentric distance. Building space does not, how- ever, imply building power. The great disproportion betwixt the space, the construction, and the edifices, and the activity, the work, the artizan power, evident therein, is one of the most striking and noteworthy features of Cherbourg. In the workshops and the docks, along the quays and arsenals, in the stores and the bureaux, there is nowhere evident that move- ment and action which characterise our own yards. This may be said to be caused by a greater concentration of means and a better organisation of labour. The great flux of man-power and the masses of material so associated with our notions of a naval arsenal are wants which can- not, however, be reconciled with a great resource of means or a great command of artisans. This building power is a point, however, which need concern us little. We have outbuilt ourselves--could, with the aid of our mercantile yards, outbuild all the navies of the world. For equipment and repairs there are seven docks, and the bassin-de-flot might be made entirely available for fitting or laying up vessels. We come next to the harbourage. According to some English authorities, 60 ships of the line might lie in the three basins. This, however, is an over-estimate, at least, if they are sup- posed to be rigged, equipped, and ready for service* The French say 38; but even this number, if all ataut, would be very crowded and difficult to move. And here appears the great deficiency of the port. There is no intermediate space, as in our har- bours, betwixt the basins and the roadstead, where vessels, when dispatched from the docks, might have a spacious and sheltered rendezvous, and where those .n reserve might float secure, and ready for future need. Dor fleets at Spithead or in the Sound might, if neces- sary, run into the harbours of Portsmouth or Hamoaze, a/tid find sufficient anchorage, without disturbing one of the hundred hulks lying there, or in any way interfer- ing with the fair egress and ingress of the docks. This 30uld not be done at Cherbourg. If the basins were made a depot for a reserve, they would no longer be available as a harbour of refuge for a fleet, if the Tade should from any circumstance become untenable; and, Lf kept for that purpose, Cherbourg could only be used is a stati<m>ior.$^active fleet and as a building port, and coufJr^fer^teSs a relay of ships which, wh,^n one squadron had started forth, might be fitted and dispatched in reinforcement.- Blackwood.

Iflisallimeras PREPARING TO PROCLAIM QUEEN VICTORIA IN INDIA. —A correspondent writing from Calcutta by the last mail says that the proclamation announcing the abolition of the Company has not yet appeared. Mean- time orders have been issued to illuminate all public buildings, and, if possible, all towns, and to prepare a grand show of fireworks,—an exhibition in which natives take peculiar delight. Some fireworks have been sent to Allahabad, and the illuminations are pro- gressing, but the fireworks for Calcutta cannot be ready for weeks. The order is well judged, as no amount of proclamations would convince a people who cannot read that the "Company's raj" had ended, and the alteration of the coinage and other visible signs of a change of dynasty will require time.. Besides, the show itself is popular. The last of the kind was given by Lord Ellenborough, and is still remembered. The natives complain bitterly of our English dislike for pageantry, and it is undoubtedly one of the many causes which give to our regime that appearance of monotony which is to a native its first characteristic. EXTRAORDINARY DEATH I-BOM SCALDING.—On Monday the following extraordinary death from scald- ing was reported to the Liverpool borough coroner. On Saturday William Musgrove, a lad fifteen years of age, and an apprentice to Mr. Carter, a wheelwright in Myrtle street South, was engaged in cooling wheel tyres in a trough of water, when by some means he was caught by the spoke of a wheel and precipitated into the trough. The water in the trough, having been much used that day, was very hot, and the poor lad was so severely scalded that, though removed immediately to the Royal Infirmary, he died on Sunday. A TRANCE.—A sensation has been caused at Nuneaton, Warwickshire, in consequence of a young woman of that place having come to life after her ap- parent death. Preparations were made for "layingher out," the bell tolled, the shutters were closed, but in a few hours after her supposed death she became warm, and ultimately convalescent. She states that during the time she was in the trance she could distinctly hear the conversation of those near her. MOVEMENTS AGAINST THE REBELS IN INDIA.-— From Oude and Shahabad we learn nothing of import- ance bv the last mail. The rains check all movements, and both parties appear to await weather a little more favourable for locomotion. The field-force ordered by Lord Clyde to clear Shahabad has not yet collected, and the rebels are taking advantage of the pause to fortify themselves in Jugdespore. According to native report they number 15,000 men but native spies make little distinction between camp followers and fighting men. They may amount to that number, as small parties steal down from Oude to join them, but the reports do not prove the fact. Active operations will Scarcely recommence till the 15th of October, the usual termination of the rains. In Southern Oude, again, the rebels driven from Sultanpore have concentrated on Amethee, a little place known chiefly as the resi- dence of the Moulvie who gave so much trouble about three years ago in Oude. They are estimated at 50,000, but if they number half that strength of fighting men they are stronger than we believe them to be. They are completely hemmed in, having two great rivers to the north and south, Brigadier Grant on the east, and Lucknow, which they dare not approach, on the west. Unless some daring march releases them, they must be speedly destroyed. AN OWL'S LARDER.—A few days since an owl s nest was taken upon the farm of Mr. Parker, Burnett's Farm, near this city, with three young ones in it. The luxurious and voracious habits of the owl may be imagined from the contents of this nest, which consisted of two leverets, one rabbit, three blackbirds, one thrush, and two la.rge trout. They were all fresh, and had been apparently caught during the night.-Bath Journal. THE CRITIC CRITICISED.— J'here have been, as a matter of course, plenty of critics on Mr. Biight's speech. One says:- Mr. Bright is a philosopher, and, moreover, a student of American literature, so of course he is aware that A marciful Providence fashioned us holler, 0' purpose that we might our principles swaller It can hold any quantity on 'em—the belly can— An' bring 'em up ready for use like the. pelican, Or more like the kangaroo, who (which is stranger), Puts her family into her pouch wen there's danger-" And he is only relying on his superior marsupical capacity to pocket or swallow more than his neighbours. [Well, there is no pleasing everybody !] PULPIT H UMDRUM.- It is in vain to tell '-Is, in apology for pulpit humdrum, that there is no room for originality in religion,—that its truths, once for all re- vealed in Christ, are fixed, and can only be repeated m the .ear of one generation after another. Like every- thing in God,—his holiness, and the beauty of his world, y are indeed eternal; but, like these, they are ever born anew into manifestation before us and conscious- ness within us and, above all, they have a fresh genesis in every greatly-believing and divinely-tempered soul. What more surely eternal than the Holy Spirit? yet even this may have a day of Pentecost and sweep over the heart as a mighty rushing wind," and find utter- ance now tongues," and hurry its Stephen upon heresy and death. One who, like Robertson, (of Brighton), speaks to the sleeping nobleness of men's hearts out of the waking nobleness of his own, wields a truly revealing power; opening unsuspected worlds where the inner eye saw nothing before, and so lifting the roof as to let in the heavens. The eagerness with which such men are listened to shows how little the in- fluence of the pulpit has really declined, wherever it is relieved of the oppressive weight of traditional dogma and conventional style, and taken as the station of some self-forgetful organ of the Living Word.—National Re- view. ALGERIAN LIONs,-Each lion makes so great an impression on the population, that their number is generally exaggerated. A lion eats, at the lowest cal- culation, 1001. worth of beasts in a year, and, as he lives naturally thirty years, he costs the Algerians 3,000?. in his life. I met a lady last night, who told me she was a few years ago going home to her house in. the neigh- bourhood, attended by two servants. It was dusk, when, quite close to her grounds, in a path by a brook, she saw within a few yards of her, on the other side of the brook, two large glittering eyes, — nothing more- it was a lion: "my lord" allowed them to pass, and they heard nothing more of his royal highness. The same lady told me that at Oran, I think it was, a lion was killed, which three days before had eaten a man the Prefect gave a great dinner, the principal dish being the lion, which the French gentlemen assembled eat with the greatest relish.—Bodichon's Algeria. A SAVAGE HINT.—An Indian chief of the Six Nations once said a wiser thing than a philosopher. A white man remarked in his hearing that he had not time enough. "Well," replied red jacket, gruffly, "I suppose you have all there is!"—Emerson.

THE STRUGGLES OF GENIUS. The name of James Watt must ever be cherished in the world of science as a noble example of perseverance in over- coming difficulties, but his career has recently been brought very prominently before the public in an excellent biography by a rel" 7've, ill which many traits in his disposition are developed which were hitherto unappreciated. Premising that Watt was born at Greenock, on the Clyde, in humble circumstances, and after a long struggle achieved both emi- nence and fortune, we quote a worthy example for the imita- tion of our juvenile readers Watt set out for the metropolis in June, 1755, in the company of a relative, Mr. Marr, the captain of an East Indiaman. The pair travelled on horseback, and performed the journey in 13 days. Arrived in town, they went about from shop to shop without success. Instrument-makers were few in number, and the rules of the trade, which were then very strict, only permitted /'i! ta''e their employment apprentices who should be bou(nd for seven years, or journeymen who ^already served their time. 1 nave not," said. Watt, writing to his father about a fortnight after his arrival, "yet got a master; we have tried several, but they all make some objection or other. I find that, if any of them agree with me at all, it will not be for less than a year, and even for that time they will be expecting some money." At length, one Mr. Morgan, an instrument-maker in Finch-lane, con- sented to take him for a twelvemonth for a fee of 20 guineas. He soon proved himself a ready learner and skilful workman. The division of labour, the result of an extensive trade, which causes the best London-built carriages to be superior to any of provincial construc- tion, was even then applied to mathematical instru- ments. "Very few here," wrote Watt, "know any more than how to make a rule, others a pair of dividers and such like." His discursive mind would under no 0 circumstances have allowed him to rest content with such limited proficiency, and he probably contemplated setting up in. Scotland, where all the branches would have to be executed by himself. He resolved to acquire the entire art, and from brass scales and rules pro- ceeded to Hadley's quadrants, azimuth compasses, brass sectors, theodolites, and the more delicate sort of instruments. By the end of the year he wrote to his father that he had "just made a brass sector with a French joint, which is reckoned as nice a piece of framing work as is in the trade." To relieve his father of the expense of his maintenance, he wrought after- hours on his own account. His living cost him only 8s. a-week; and lower than that he wrote he could not reduce it, "without pinching his belly." When night came "his body was wearied and his hand shaking from ten hours' hard work." His health suffered. His seat in Mr. Morgan's shop during the winter being close to the door, which was frequently opened and shut, he caught a severe cold. But in spite of sickness and a racking cough he stuck to his work, and still earned money in his morning and evening hours. Another circumstance prevented his stirring abroad during the greater portion of his stay in London. A hot press for sailors was then going on, and as many as forty pressgangs were out. In the course of one night they took a thousand men. Nor were the kidnappers idle. These were the agents of the East India Com- pany, and had crimping-houses or depots in different parts of the metropolis to receive men whom they secured for the Indian army. When the demand for soldiers slackened, they continued their trade, and sold the poor wretches to planters in Pennsylvania and other North American colonies. Sometimes severe fights took place between the pressgangs and the kidnap- pers for the possession of the unhappy victims who had been seized. They now press anybody they can get," wrote Watt in the spring of 1756, "landsmen as well as seamen, except it be in the liberties of the City, where they are obliged to carry them before the Lord Mayor first; and unless one be either a 'prentice or a creditable tradesman there is scarce any getting off again. And if I was carried before my Lord Mayor I durst not avow that I worked in the City, its being against their laws for any non-freeman to work even as a journeyman within the liberties." What a curious glimpse does this give us into the practice of man-hunt- ing in London in the eighteenth century!

TOELTFTE, Peltbr, anb pappfntsst. A RYGHTE MERRIE CONCEITTE. In Englande's fam'd metropolis There dwelte inne dayes of yore, A wondrous greate philosopher, Uppe inne a seconde flore. His lerninge was prodigious, And ofte myghte he be sene, Wastinge ye mydnyghte rushlyghte, o'er Ye Pennie Magazene. Eftsoons his fame came to ye eares Of one steept to hys chinne, Inne sicknesse and inne miserie, And shockinge shorte of tinne. He hadde been jilted by ye mayde Who sholde have been hys spouse, Hey'd ye Lumbagoe inne hys loynes, Ye Sheriff inne hys house. So he soughte out ye sage's celle, Resolv'd to take advice, And didde for ye Philosopher Ye myddel belle ringe twyce. "i Ye sage came downe immediatelie Ye sounds felle onne hys eare, Inne trothe ye greate Philosopher Didde thynke it was his beere But, whenne he saw ye Invalede, And lernt whatte he didde lacke, Ye sage ye kindlie asked hym Uppe to his two paire backe For, like a nutte, ye sage was kinde Atte hearte, tho' roughe inne huske, And to afflixion kepte hys eares Open from tenne tille duske. So he ye sorrie Invalede Withe everie kindnesse treted, He drewe a trunke from neathe hys bedde, And begg'd he wolde be seated. "Now lette me heare from thee," he sedde, Thy sorrowfulle reporte Tho' yffe 'tis longe," observed the sage, Be plees'd to cutte itte shorte." Thenne brieflie spoke ye Invalede, Ye wretche who to thee comes Is sufferinge bitterlie from Love, Lumbagoe, and ye Bummes." Butte," sedde ye greate Philosopher, Whatte sekeste thou of me ? Thou art a manne withe whom I feare, Itt's nearlie alle U-P." Oh no I" exclaim'd ye Invalede. You'll clere me from this messe, Yffe you'll telle me ye Waye to Welthe, And Helthe, and Happinesse." f I feare," sedde ye Philosopher, Thatt's more thanne I canne doo To solve so deepe a problemme, boye, Requires a pype or two." He fill'd hys bowle, thenne pufft and thought, And mutter'd No! thatt's not itte Ye way to Welthe!—Yes! let me see I' feckins! boye, I've got itte!" Marke welle my wordes then sedde ye sage, Yffe thou dost longe for rytches, A quack Lyfe Pille withe gold wille fille Ye pockettes of your britches." Most sureli," cried ye Invalede, Thatte is ye waye to Welthe Butte, oh thou greate Philosopher! Whiche is ye waye to Helthe ? Thatte's quickli tolde," returned ye sage, Ye Quack Pille, whenne you make itte, Lette others swallowe ?—butte be sure, Neverre yourselfe to take itte." —Town Talk.

DOMESTIC CASTLE BUILDING. If ever I allow my husband, Mr. Popjoy, to have his own way, I always make a mistake. Mr. Popjoy is very well in his business, as a clerk in the city but, take him out of that, and he knows no more of the world than a babe unborn. If I trust him to select our Sunday's dinner from one of the City markets, he brings home a huge watery nsh a side of meat suffi- cient for a barrack-full of soldiers; or a goose, as large and fluffy as a child's feather-bed, and no sweeter than it should be. Mr. Popjoy (though I am grieved to say it of my own husband) is frequently taken in by design- ing persons, who ought to be picking oakum at the Old Bailey, or some other penal settlement. Whenever I see him pass the parlour window at exactly half-past six in the evening (his usual time of returning from business) with a peculiar smirk of satisfaction upon his face, I know that something is wrong. When, after delaying a little, to excite my curiosity, he proudly places a brace of pheasants upon the table which he has bought for one and sixpence, of a man in the street, dressed in a smock frock, I know, before I examine the birds, that they are stuffed with sand, and that one half of them will go to feed the cat, and the other half to the dust-bin. When Mr. Popjoy brings home a pair of patent boots as an unexpected present for one of the children, I know, before I put my hands upon them, they are made of brown paper; and when the soles burst clean away from the upper leather in trying them on the child, I can only say, It's just as I expected." Mr. Popjoy buys stationery of men who stand in the gutter, and we are, consequently, always well stocked with note-paper upon which no one can write, because it sucks up the ink like a piece of shirting. We have a dozen umbrellas in the house, none of which would shelter a dog, Mr. Popjoy having bought them of people who were selling off under prime cost, because their premises were coming down for a new street or a new chapel. Sometimes Mr. Popjoy's bargain-hunting pro- pensities get him into serious difficulties out of which he expects me to extricate him. On one occasion he strayed into a nest of swindlers- a mock auction mart—and before he had been there twenty minutes, he had nodded himself into two cart- loads of trashy furniture at prices six times higher than their proper value. When the rascals came after him with the goods in vans, I refused, of course, to take them in, and as Mr. Popjoy solemnly assured' me that he had only bid for a dressing-case as a present to me on my approaching birthday, of course I believed my husband, snatched the dressing-case from the hands of one of the men, put the money upon the door-step, and slammed the door in their faces, after telling them to do their best and do their worst. Mr. Popjoy would never have had spirit to do this, but I had; and, as I never heard any more of the wretches from that day to this, I feel that as usual, I did what was rioht. Mr. Popjoy's failing for bargain-hunting at one period extended to houses; and, during the time we have been married (about fifteen years), if we had moved once we have moved a dozen times. Mr. Popjoy usually employs his holidays in searching for new dwellings, and new neighbourhoods, although we have taken a long lease of the house in which we now reside; and I have posi- tively resolved never to move again, unless compelled by utter necessity, until I am carried to my grave. Mr. Popjoy, as I have said before, moves in City circles, and very often, I am sorry to say, becomes ac- quainted with persons who do him no good, and only cause him to injure his family. More than once he has made himself surety, and has had to pay sums of money for worthless scamps, which I have had to provide out of a legacy securely settled upon me by an aunt. He is always coming home with a story of how he could make a little fortune if he only had a hundred pounds to play with for three months but I have turned a deaf ear to him, or I know very well where poor aunt's little pro- perty would be, and what would be left for the dear children when they grew up. One evening Mr. Popjoy came home about his usual time to tea, and brought with him a person whom he introduced to me as Mr. Gasper. I never take kindly to strangers, because I believe they have designs upon Mr. Popjoy, and I am generally right. I consider my own and my husband's family, and our old friends quite as large as we can afford to keep up with and' entertain, without adding fresh faces continually to the number. I did not like Mr. Gasper, the moment he came into the room, and my unfavourable impression did not alter upon further acquaintance. He was much too polite to please me; inquiring after my health and the children's, as if he had known us twenty years. He was younger than my husband—perhaps about forty years of age—and had. a sneaking expression upon his countenance. When he spoke he lifted up his head, half-opened his mouth, and half-closed his eyes, as if very short-sighted, and made much use of a double eye- glass. I believe he was a good deal sharper in his sight than either Mr. Popjoy or myself. When we were seated at the tea-table, Mr. Gasper opened the conversation, my husband remaining very quiet, and appearing more nervous than usual, as if he had something upon his mind. "Mrs. Popjoy," said Mr. Gasper, "I am indebted to a very unexpected circumstance for the pleasure of your acquaintance: Mr. Popjoy has this day expressed a wish—in fact, I may say, has made arrangements-to participate in the many advantages to be derived from the General Freehold Society of the Banded Brothers of Freedom." I hate to be addressed with anything like an oration; it shows me plainly that the speaker is not straightfor- ward. "Mr. Gasper," I said, "my husband, Mr. Popjoy, has joined many absurd societies in his time, to his children's cost. He has walked in a procession with a band of music in front of him, and a ridiculous sash round his waist, to dine with his company at Hornsey Wood, or some other remote tavern; but I never yet knew him want to join any society that sounded so much like a family of acrobats as the one you mention." It's a very beneficial investment, my dear," broke in Mr. Popjoy. "My dear madam," returned Mr. Gasper, laughing in a forced manner, "Mr. Popjoy very properly does not like to do anything without consulting you, and hence my present visit. The Banded Brothers of Free- dom is not, in any way, a convivial society. We never had such a thing as a public dinner, and we never shall. We exist only for plain and profitable business pur- poses." "I'm very glad to hear it," I replied, "for your own sakes; but profitable business, on his own account, is what my husband is least fitted for. He makes an ex- cellent servant, but a very bad master." "My dear," said Mr. Popjoy, meekly, "you know I never failed in anything but for want of capital." "My dear Mrs. Popjoy," continued Mr. Gasper, be- coming more bland and familiar every moment; "I need not point out to you, as a woman of the world, the necessity of providing for a rising family, by seeking the most favourable investment for any little money it may have pleased fortune, in its bounty to bestow upon us." I don't believe in anything but the funds," I replied shortly. You will pardon me for saying that is a very great mistake. Suppose, for example, you have five hundred pounds in consols. It brings you in fifteen pounds-a- year-safe, it is true; but what is it ?" "A comfortable little sum," Ireplied, "and one which some people find very convenient, at times." I said this rather warmly and pointedly to my husband -for I now began to see the object of Mr. Gasper's visit. Mr. Popjoy, wanting the courage himself, had doubtless brought home his new friend to persuade me into supplying the funds for shares in the Banded Brothers' Society, of which, I afterwards learned, Mr. Gasper was the manager. Mr. Popjoy winced under my remark, and said no- thing but Mr. Gasper continued his argument. "There are other duties which we owe to .society, Mrs. Popjoy, and, through that, to our families, besides seeking for large dividends. Your esteemed husband has now lived in the world for five-and-forty years, without knowing what it is to enjoy a vote in the government of his country." He's none the worse for that," I returned. "Pardon me," replied Mr. Gasper, "a vote is money; and even if it was not, no intelligent man should be without it." I quite feel that," echoed Mr. Popjoy. The General Freehold Society of the Banded Bro- thers of Freedom," continued Mr. Gasper, "gives you that vote in the proportion of one to every five shares; besides creating in you that ennobling feeling of satis- faction and independence which every man must expe- rience who digs in his own garden, and lives in his own h°"That depends very much," I replied, upon the character of the house and garden, and where they are situated." "Very true, Mrs. Popjoy," said Mr. Gasper, "very true, and in that remark I at once recognise the woman of experience. The position and prospects of the pro- perty belonging to the Banded Brothers of Freedom (whom I have the honour to represent), I am happy to say, cannot be assailed by any man with justice and are only attacked by those who envy our social and political advantages." Mr. Popjoy nodded approval at this speech, but I said nothing, allowing Mr. Gasper to enlarge upon the details of his society without further interruption. Mr. Popjoy was evidently bitten with the idea of becoming a small freeholder. It seemed to him to be the very thing he had been in search of for so many years, without success. We had moved restlessly from house to house,—taking no permanent root anywhere; but now we had come within sight of the promised land, and there seemed to be rest and happiness for us in the future. This was Mr. Popjoy's feeling, fostered by judicious statements of. the plausible Mr. Gasper. I listened to the explanation of the complicated system under which the Banded Brothers of Freedom worked without understanding half of what I heard; and I am afraid that my husband was no wiser than myself, al- though he nodded assent to every assertion, and seemed to be highly delighted with the whole scheme. A plan of the Banded Brothers' Estate was laid upon the table, after the tea-things were removed;, and it looked, to me, very much like a large chess-board. Mr. Gasper pointed to little square patches upon the paper, and told us how five shares purchased one patclj, ten shares another patch, and fifteen shares a third; how A was a church, and B a dissenting chapel, C a projected park, D a row of shops, E an Artesian well of the purest spring water how the broad lines were roads, the narrow line along the top the railway, and another line, close to it, the canal; and how the whole was twenty miles from London, in a salubrious part of a southern county, perfectly sheltered from the north winds, and to be reached in one hour by the railway. Then with regard to the financial system of the society, he told us how rent became capital, and the more we paid the richer we became; how interest charged to the fathers was a benefit to the children; how every time we painted a water-butt, we added a value to the heir-looms of our family; how the old snarling relations of landlord and tenant, creditor and debtor, were utterly destroyed, to be replaced by a mutual-advantage state of existence. Then he drew a glowing picture of the toil-worn clerk, nymg every evening from his city labour on the wings of steam to his happy country retreat, proud in the consciousness of being a free and independent burgess, who had by prudence and co-operation wrenched an acre of his birthright from the grasping usurpation of the aris- tocracy. Such was the discourse of Mr. Gasper until a late hour in the evening. His advocacy had no effect upon me, although it was conclusive with my husband, and I set my face resolutely against becom- ing a freeholder in the Banded Brothers' Estate.- Some few days after Mr. Gasper's visit, I was attacked with a severe illness, which lasted for some weeks. When I recovered, I was ordered to Worthing for the benefit of one or two months' sea-air. Mr. Popjoy came down every Saturday evening, and stayed until Monday morning. His mind still ran upon the idea of becoming a small freeholder—for he talked of little else during his visits. He enlarged very much upon the permanent benefit I should derive from a southern air; and he backed his arguments with a corroborative letter from my doctor, which I am com- pelled to believe he had obtained by connivance. I saw that there was little chance of domestic peace un- less I consented to become a Banded Sister of Freedom, and, in a moment of bodily weakness, I gave him authority to sell out one hundred pounds of stock, and invest the money in any form he desired. I had a very slight hope that the Banded Brothers' Estate might turn out better than I had expected. I had no hand in the moving—that was agreed be- tween us-Mr. Popjoy gladly superintending the whole of the arrangements. What things were broken, what things were lost, what the dear children suffered, is more than I need tell. My poor sister (she is now dead and gone) who came up from the country to assist my hus- band, told me afterwards she had seen many movings 1Il her time, but nothing to equal this. It was worse than government emigration, it took them from f«x ° £ in the morning until eight o'clock at night to reach le Freehold Society's settlement. There were thre, and six men, who did just as they thought pr 1 Mr. Popjoy, stopping at every roadside a at last they got almost unmanageable. Th y y threw the things from the van into the: road. was awful and heartrending; and my poor sister mercy that everything was not shivere it was, the loo-table, which would never stend I was married, was so injured that it would^never stand upright again; and her portraita R thel?gS of f kitc^n-^air and neck m no less than three piaces.. into wjlat ]\jr Popjoy con- "f,1 If to return to my new home. It was late at night when I arrived, and very dark and I noticed nothing until I reached the house, carefully guided by my husband. My dear," said Mr. Popjoy, I am afraid you will not find the place everything you could wish; but Rome, you know, was not built in a day." I did not like the tone of this remark. It foreboded no | good; but I made a cheerful reply, without leading him to suppose that I suspected anything. When I entered our dwelling I noticed a smell of earth, damp mortar, and new wood, and I thought that 1 saw traces of shavings in the passage. Further ac- quaintance with the premises showed many other short- comings and peculiarities..There were no banisters up the stairs, and no paper upon' the walls; which were ornamented by fantastic figures formed by the wet upon the plaster. The children's bedroom and nursery were like stable lofts, and the roof was only lathed over, without a ceiling. Luckily the weather had been fine and dry for several weeks, or the poor creatures might have been washed down the stairs. The back parlour was closed up, and, for some time, Mr. Popjoy hesi- tated when I spoke to him about this apartment. At last he admitted that it was in a very unfinished state. In fact it had scarcely been commenced; there was nothing but a brick skeleton; there was no window, the hole being boarded over; and there was no floor, but a deep gulf half filled with rubbish, which when cleared out, would form a very commodi- ous back-kitchen. Mr. Popjoy had prudently nailed up the door in the .passage, and the two j folding-doors in the front parlour which communi- cated with this rude outline of an apartment, be- cause one of the children had. accidentally fallen into; the gulf, and had been lost tofhis brothers and sisters for several hours. This state cf things required some explanation, and Mr. Popjoy reluctantly and timidly proceeded to give it. "Mr. Gasper, he began. I thought so," I could not help interrupting. Well, my dear," he continued, meekly, "I did all for the best, and it would have been better, no doubt, if I'd been governed by you." It ought to teach you a lesson," I said, "for the future." Mr. Gasper," he resumed, gave me five shares in the society of the Banded Brothers of Freedom in ex- change for the money received from the Consols you' authorised me to sell out. These five shares entitled me to a plot of land and the bare skeleton of a house; the society undertaking to finish the dwelling in the^ best style within two months, in consideration of my" taking ten other shares (value two hundred pounds), which were to remain in the hands of the manager and committee until I had paid them up by quarterly in- stalments in the form of rent; when they would be de- livered to.me, constituting me the proprietor of the land and premises to have and to Mold for ever." And you took the other shares ?" I inquired. "My dear," replied my husband, "I am sorry to say I did, under an arrangement by which, if the quar- terly instalments were not kept up, the amount waS to stand over indefinitely at ten per cent. per annum; one half of which interest went to pay working expenses salaries, et cetera, and the other half formed a benefit fund for the relief of sick Banded Brothers of Freedom, or the support of their widows and orphans remaining on the estate." A very pretty scheme," I said,—" upon paper." The finishing of the house," he continued, "went on very slowly, even over our heads, and I begged your sister not to write to you about it, as I thought it would only worry you in the weak state that you were in." "Well, Mr. Popjoy," I replied, when my husband had concluded, your restlessness has brought us to » cheerful dwelling, at last: but I suppose we must make the best of it. One thing I wish to have distinctly un- derstood I shall not associate with any of the Banded Brothers' wives, and I hope that you will keep equally aloof from any of the husbands." Yes, my dear," replied Mr. Popjoy, much relieved by my tone and manner. I don't think you will he much troubled with either.I' It was not until the next day that I fully understood the meaning of this last remark, for I found that, wit& the exception of two other families, we were the only settlers upon the freehold estate. The morning did not improve the aspect of the place- There was no washhouse at the back of the premises, nothing but a vast wild desert of gravel-pits. In the front of the house there were no area railings, although there was a deep area, and there was clay enough tO make bricks for a hundred settlements. I found, upoj| looking over the children's wardrobe, that it had uuic'1 suffered by this clay; and, when I inquired about seve- ral pairs of boots that were missing, the. clay was stu' the only answer I could get in explanation. Mr. pop joy had departed at an early hour, before I was up > for it was three miles to the station, four-and-twe»ty miles by railway to London, nearly two miles 10.01$ 0 into the City, and my husband had to be at business ot half-past nine in tiie morning. After breakfast? j started to walk round and survey the settlement > I had not got far when I was stopped by more serf' clay, large ponds of water, and impassable There was no sign of life in my immediate neighbour hood but I saw some children in the distance, fishin<? with what appeared to be a small clothes-prop in 0lieJ? the ponds, and I correctly supposed them to be iaeIzl hers of the two other unfortunate settler families. Tbe5{ were several houses like our own in a very unfinisii state about a dozen half-raised carcases a few fold-poles lying amongst gravel-heaps, rubbish, and bricks; and this, as far as I could see, comprised that was visible of the Great Estate of the Ba11". Brothers of Freedom, A, B, C, D, E—churches, projected parks, artesian wells, canals, and even ro»a were no more visible than Mr. Gasper; but, instea* many ponds of water in which that plausible villa ought to have been soaking. I returned to the house, and was astonished to see workmen engaged in completing the building. I foU»"' upon inquiry from the children, that no one had there for a week. The servant-girl, perhaps, mig"- have given me more information but when I put questions to her, she burst into violent fits of laughte^ and seemed so thoroughly to enjoy the fun of living such a wilderness, that I test my patience, and a month's warning upon tlie spot. When dinner-ti arrived, I found there was no provision in the. h°u f a,nd no chance of getting fany within eight miles.'t then learned that Mr. Popjoy was in the habit of bri11^ ing home supplies from town (with his usual judgnie as to selection) about twice a week, and that the supply had been exhausted a day sooner than was et. pected. I waited impatiently for the approach of eve»' ing, sitting at the window, watching the road alow which I was told Mr. Popjoy would arrive, and paring a severe attack upon his carelessness alJjj stupidity in taking such a place, without a thoroug investigation of Mr. Gasper's flowery statements. About half-past eight, one of the children (my girl) ran out of the door, and by the window, shortly afterwards. I saw Mr. Popjoy coming over gravel heaps, looking.very tired, with a great carp j. bag in one hand, and a basket in the other. He V these things down to kiss the child, who bounded wards him, delighted at his return; and for 3° reason, at that moment I forgot all my indignatio^jj j the damp walls, the nailed-up parlour, the ponds, the Banded Brothers of Freedom—and went to the a.e to give him a welcome, as our little child had g before me.. ed 9 The bag and basket, as I expected, contain Ibt, curious mixture of food, all thrown together,— grocery, and fruit, with one or two toys, and pastry-cooks' pies for the children. Those children A had gone to bed seemed to be aware of the arrival,$ there was a commotion up in the loft (I cannot call bedroom), until the expected purchases were take1* and shown, with a promise that they should be P tually delivered in the morning. I learned from my husband, by degrees over supper table, that the General Freehold Society ot be Banded Brothers of Freedom had turned out to tbe nothing but a well-organised swindle, Mr. Gaspef' fri leading rascal, having disappeared, and the olhe town (where Mr. P. had called that very «.lay to a9 re- tain why the workmen were not con«»etln^ inises) being cleared of everything m fixture desk, and a few shreds of 'wn, fireplace. My husband admittedJnat he had xnaci great mistake; but he did not had,, pounds from his employers, by • 71 s pre o$ quest, the whole of which had n■ 1 a (led over to J crafty manager, with the 1 | f 'f. K ul#i and bricklayers in motion. -1 I-id net hnd thisoutu^ some time afterwards, ei^ s. W dress, and I then h; V/T l'^ymg it o« *SX2SI "ift'Mr. P., and inrr" the house we had loft a few w-eeks before, g> vacant, I took a. lease of it for one-and-twenty-y As we were moving away from the Freehold up tlement a few days afterwards, just^as f had locked ,j the empty house, and was tuning to fnllcfyv the jlkgt saw three gentlemen standing by Mr. P<mjoy, the of whom, a fat, red-faced man, seemed the &P man. 1 ,1 "will | My dear,' said my husband, as I came nPj „ity." you f ee to this ? There appears to be a little difhc^sly, v\ e are here," said the fat gentleman, pomP t^(l$F?and possession of those premises." „ to Which," I replied, I mast respectfully <leC without compensation." 4-iAtaa^' "Compensation!" shouted the fat gen 3»t- Compensation Are you aware that you are ters?" i JILIS I am aware that my husband," I answered, ^og0 sunk between one and two hundred pounds "P • ,0 up premises, which I intend to have back before 1 o the key." << very Very well," returned the stout gentleman,. ijjpg, well; the whole thing—the whole place is a (HXghC squatting settlement, from beginning to end, ,^ce of to have been nipped in the bud. J ones, serve now eJM™husband received from one of the other^gf/or men a piece of paper, which we have carefully k«P the many years. We still retain the property a»d gravel-pits, which we visit for amusement, no^tU then and the memory of the tat, testy gentleman. t the red face has almost died away. Perhaps heL died away also, and his successors have lost my v hand's address.—Household Words. —'

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