The Aberystwith Observer

THE TRADE IN WOODEN LEGS AND ARMS! A result of the war in America is a need for artificial Umbs; consequently, the trade in these productions is brisk. Of one "limb factory" Mr. O. W. Holmes thus discourses in Soundings from the Atlantic :— The polite Boston partner, who, if he were in want of a customer, w^u'd alm"st persuade a man with two good 1-gs to provide himself with a third, carried us to the back part of the building, where legs are organised. The willow, which furnishes the charcoal for the gun- powder that blows off limbs, is the wood chosen to supply the loss it has helped to occasion. It is light, strong, does not warp or check so much as many other woods, and is, as the workmen say, healthy thtt is, not irritating to the parts with which it is in contact. Whether the salicine it may contain enters the ?lores, and invigorates the system, may be a question or those who remember the drugs in the Sultan's bat-handle, and the remarkable cure they wrought. This wood is kept in a dry-house, with as much care as that intended for the manufactuie of pianos. It is thoroughly s'ean^d also before using. The wood comes in rudely-shaped blocks, as lasts are sent to the factory, seeming to have been coarsely hewed out of the log. The shaping, as we found to our surprise, is all done by hand. We had expected to see great lathes, worked by steam power, taking in a rough stick and turning out a finished limb. But it is shaped very much as a sculptor finishes his marble, with an eye to artistic effect—not so much in the view of the stranger, who does look upon its naked loveliness, as in that of the wearer, who is seduced by its harmonious outlines into its purchase, and solaced with the consciousness that he carries so much beauty and symmetry about with him. The hollowing-out of the interior is done by wicked-looking blades and scopes at the end of long stems, suggesting the thought of dentists' instruments as they might have been in the days of the giants. The joints are most carefully made, more particularly at the knee, where a strong bolt of steel passes through the solid wood. Windows, oblong openings, are left in the sides of the liib, to ensure a good supply of air to the extremity of the mutilated limb. Many persona are not aware that all parts of the surface breathe, just as the lungs breathe, exhaling carbonic acid as well as water, and taking in more or less oxygen. One of the workmen, a pleasant-looking young fellow, whs himself, we were told, a ligniped. We begged h'm to give us a specimen of his walking. He arose, and walked rather slowly across the room and back. Once more," we said, not feeling quite cure which was Nature's leg and which Mr. Palmer's. So he walk-d up and down the room ajpin, untU we had satisfied ourselves which was the leg of willow and which that. f flesh and bone. It is not, perhaps, to tbe credit of our eyes or observing powers, but it is a fact, that we deliberately selected the wrong leg. No victim of the thimble-rigger's trickery was ever more co mpletely taken in than we were by the con- trivance of the ingenious surgeon-artist. Our freely- expressed admiration led to the telling of *onderful stories about the doings of persons with artificial legs. One individual was mentioned, who skated particularly well; another, who danced with zeal and perseverance tid a third, who must needs swim in his leg, which brought on a dropsical affection of the limb—to which kind of complaint the willow has, of course, a con- stitutional tendenay-and for which it had to come to the iufii mary where the diseases that wood is heir to are trHatfd. But the most wonderful monuments of the great restorer's skill are the patients who have lost both legs nullipeds, as presented to Mr. Palmer; bilignipeds, as they walk forth again before the admiring world, balanced upon their two new-born members. We have before us delineations of six of these hybrids be- tween the animal and vegetable world. One of them was employed at a railway-station near this (Atlantic) city, where he was often seen by a member of our household, whose testimony we are in the habit of considering superior in veracity to the naked truth as commonly delivered. He walked about, we are assured, a little slowly and stiffly, but in a way that hardly attracted attention. The inventor of the leg has not been contented to atop there. He has worked for years upon the con- struction of an artificial arm and has at length suc- ceeded in arranging a mechanism, which, if it cannot serve a pianist or violinist. i* yet equal to holding the reins in dri ving-, receiving fees for professional services, and i-imi lar easy labour. Where Mr. Palmer means to stop in -supplying bodily losses it would be prema- ture to say. We su pose the accidents happening occasionally from the use of the guillotine are beyond his skill, and spare our readers the lively remark sug- gested by the contrary hypothesis.

GREAT FLOOD IN AUSTRALIA! Australia is often subject to droughts, but only occasionally to floods When they do come, however, they come in ter- rific force, as witness the following desciiption by 'he Times' correspondent. Time. we believe, will obviate much of this, and the Australian Government will prepare lakes to receive the overflowing waters, as is done on the Nile, where it may be stored until used by the inhabitants :— Such scenes as for the last ten days we have wit- nessed in the neighbourhood and suburbs of Melbourne are without precedent in the memory of black or white inhabitant. On Monday, the 14th December, the weather, which had been for some days previously uu-ettl d, culminated in one of the fiercest and most prolonged gales of wind, at irregular intervals, rising to the strength of a hurricane, ever known along the Australian coast. Accompanying the wind was such a de'uge of rain that speedily several of our lower streets seemed converted into rivers, and the River Yarra, swollen by the unusual contributions from the Dandenong range of hills, in an incredibly short period overflowed its banks, converted a large portion of our suburbs and of the southern side of the stream into a vast lake, and drove the inhabitants—most of whom were of the poorer class -with precipitation from their houses. The Peninsular and Oriental Mail steamship Bombay, which arrived off our port as early as the 14th, could neither enter the harbour, nor could pilots get to her, such was the fury of the wind and the impossibility of tho-e on board getting a proper observation of the lay of the land through the thickness of the r-tin. She therefore lay off Cape Otway until the loth, when, getting a glimpse of the Heads during a short lull of the storm, she bore up for the harbour and entered safely on the evening ol that day. The Great Britain came in on the following day. Meanwhile the storm raged on with undiminished fury. All the lower lying banks of the river were overflowed to the height of some 40 feet. Melbourne became sur- rounded by water. Boats plied at first-floor windows. Some of the poorer suburbs, their streets turned into canals, looked like a mixture of Venice and St. Giles's. All navigation of the Yarra became suspended by reason of the impossibiUty of steamers and other vessels keeping within the river course, now effectually merged in a wide wa-te of waters. The only indica- tion of the actual course of; he stream was the curious succession of objects carried along on its surface—chairs, tables, fowls, fragments of wooden houses, children's cradles, crinoline, four-posters, files of papers, and hundreds of nther objects which had been floated out of different tenements and pursued each other down the river in the direction of the bay. Almost all the factories on the banks of the stream were suspended, merely the tops of buildings indicating their situation to the eye. Many market-gardens were ruined. The Melbourne gasworks were under water, and for several nights the city and a large portion of the suburbs were reduced to candles. Vessels of small draught were here and there lifted out of the river and placed on the river banks. The Hobson's Bay Railway trains ceased running, and for some time a very valuable portion of their property was in imminent danger. The faces of directors looked nearly as long M their own trains. Business for a day or two was almost entirely suspended, and between Melbourne, Sandridge, and Emerald-hill could only be carried on in boats. Hundreds ofpeople came in from the country to behold the sight. For hours they would occupy any elevated position, looking forth wistfully at the cer- tainly somewhat impressive scene. Readers of Dr. Camming and of the prophetic order of literature shook their he<*ds; some seemed to think that Dr. Colenso was in fome sort responsible, and one preaching man, pointing to the flood, a-ked me, What could we expect!" I said I expected the flood to go down again in a few days, an expectation which has become realised, as the nver is fast resuming its usual appearance. The Government have opened our now very com- fortable and extensive Immigrants' Home to the house ess and the distressed. Subscriptions are being rained, and it is not improbable that a sum of money will be voted in the next session for the same purpose. It is saidthatsomethinglikeaquarterof amillion-worth of property is destroyed, but this can be little better than a guess, seeing that as yet we have had neither time nor opportunity to take stock of the extent of the damage. The damage is at any rate very great, and only time and inquiry can put us in possession of even an approximation t.) the truth as to the amount of property injured and destroyed. Lieutenant Saxby, we are told, predicted all this very many months ago. If so, be it a fortunate guess, or a meteorological calculation, the result is almost equally surprising. His predictions, besides the fulfilled past, gave the 23rd and the 31st of December as days on which we might expect unusual weather; and cer- tainly on the afternoon of the 23rd we had a very severe thunderstorm, accompanied by another unusually I heavy fall of rain, which, however, only lasted a few hours.

THE CARNIVAL AT ROME. rpL National Committee in Roma having ordered that the ot should stand aloof from the festival r £ i £ frr»_,—180 much thought of by all Romans—their »iu otvr*w'1- as wU1 be 8een by the following com- 7"™ co™poDd.„.« Yesterday (Feb. 8) u/nnnated the most lifeless- nay, melancholy-Carnival hath*3 ev^rn,wit" nessed. Saturday 43 carriages, Monday 65, and Tues- day 75, were all that entered the -1 of the thousands that formerly blocked up w 13 m.^m ^ery and the adjoining Btreets, so as to render au ^progress impossible. Most of those who occupied thv^m ,iwere foreigners, but the Neapolitans and Papal Zov.ave,s were in great force, and these wore the Papal colour*, yellow and white. Many shop-fronts and windows that once were fitted up and decorated for the na- tional Bacchanalia were this year closed, and those that were filled were occupied principally by English and other foreigners. TheRomans, as a people, took no part; they held quite aloof, with the exception of the canaglia, who struggled in the muddy street for the bonbons which, missing their aim at the balconies, fell below. With the gaiety and brio of the old Carnival, so also have its grace and gallantry departed, for little elae was to be seen but lime and confetti showered down on the unwary passenger*, or else thrown with a violence which might have been expected from navvies. To protect these very doubtful demonstra- tions of joy there were stationed daily French and Papal trooJl8, muskets in hand, in every piazza, while carbineers were thick as hail on the ground. Last evening we had the concluding scene of the Moccoli, in which, as soon as the horses without riders have finished their course, every one is wont to light a wax candle, which each attempts to extinguish. It was a briliant spectacle was this in former times, when an illumination was improvised in every house and carriage, but it was a miserable failure thisyear; two- thirds of the windows were without lights, and but few of the carriages re-entered the Corso. During the Carnival the authorities have permitted also four masked balls at the Argentino and Apollo theatres, and lent a helping hand, I am informed, by giving gratuitous admissions. All to no purpose—the Ro- mans would have none of them. The thousands who once formed an intolerable crush were reduced to as many hundreds, and, in spite of the vigilance of the police, a powder much more irritating than snuff was thrown about on Thursday and Sunday nights, which inflamed eyes, nostrils, and throat to a most painful degree, and set the whole company sneezing. The servants were laid hold of and placed under guard, while the theatre was cleared and watered; but the festivities had already been damped enough. The Remans remained at home, or pursued their avoca- tions, while many went to the Pincio, the Porta Pia, or the Ripetta. There was no necessity, however, for them to make any silent demonstrations when the dul- ness of the Carnival had done it for them, and that in the most effectual manner. So terminated the lifeless Carnival of 1864. and I have described it minutely, rom its political significance.

The same correspondent, speaking of this National Committee, says:— Throughout there has befin a struggle of parties, in which the Liberals have won the day and shown that they can baflle their rulers. There has been no threat uttered, and from what I have observed and heard, the National Committee, who really control the great proportion of the population, so far from sanctioning, condemn any excesses which would injure their came. It has been the triumph of public opinion, for being assured that taking away the foreigners, Neapolitan exiles, canaglia, soldiers, policemen, and a very few Papalini. the Corso would have been a desert. The Roman people will not be merry at command. The Liberals are acting with great moderation, they are all ready and well organised for action when the favourable moment arrives, and when Victor Emmanuel commands. I have already pointed this out as the principal feature in the political tendency of the Romans—that they are loyal to the King of Italy. They are not the victims of illusions, nor are they willing to be led away by the suggestions of any party or of any man who would act independently of the authority established by the constitution. They know everything that passes; they receive information before their rulers; they discuss everything, and, as my last letter intimated, some in- visible magnetic power seems to apprise the inhabitants of every quarter of the city of any event, and of the conduct they are to observe. It is the fashion here with the authori- ties and the press to speak contemptuously of the Liberals and of their committee; nevertheless, they are a power whom it is thought worth while to combat in the Papal journals, and a power, as we have seen this week, strong enough to thwart the wishes and the efforts of the Govern- ment.

HAPPY NEW YORK! The correspondent of the leading journal writes :— The ominous shadow of a presidential election carried at the point of the bayonet, or abrogated altogether on the plea of milit-ry necessity, lies dark and heavy on the country. But what does it signify to a people like these? New York dances, sings, and rejoices. "Hops," as it is the fashion to designate balls, were never so numerous, so brilliant, and so well attended. The theatres are crammed every night. The jewellers cannot manufacture or import fast enough to satisfy their fair customers. Pictures and engravings never commanded such high prices, or cold so readily. The books that are most sought after are those which are most splendidly bound in gilt and morocco. The ladies flaunt and flare and trail their velvets, damasks, and satins through the slush of an ill-paved and much-spitting metropolis to show how rich they are and how little they care for a lavish expenditure of money. Shops and storekeepers of all kinds flourish upon multitudinous greenbacks, and there is so great an in- flux of pleasure-loving strangers into New York from every part of the country, that the numerous palatial hotels are not more than half sufficient for the accom- modation of their guests. Everybody seems to be growing rich, except the man with a fixed income and the labourer.

THE MEANING OF THE WORD "BIJOUX!" The Imperial Court of Paris last week heard an appeal from a judgment of the Civil Tribunal, in an action brought by Madame C a legatee under the will of the late Lord H. Seymour, against the residuary legatees. It appears that on the 21st of June, 1856, Lord H. Seymour added the following codicil to his will:— I bequeath all my jewels (bijoux) to Madame C-. The residuary legatees, understanding the word bijoux to mean only jewels used as personal ornaments, offered Madame C— all those articles, but she main- tained that the word bijoux equally applied to the works of art, vases, race-cups, and object of curiosity left by the testator, and which had been sold by auction for 30,780f. She therefore brought an action to recover that sum from the residuary legatees, and the Civil Tribunal, on the 3rd of August last, gave a judgment in her favour. Against that decision the Administration of Public Assist- tance, one of the residuary legatees, now ap- pealed, and its counsel maintained that the word biJou, derived from bis-jou, joa-jou, signified, as defined by the French Academy, only small articles for personal use, and could not be applied to race-cups, vases, and other bulky objects. He added that his clients wished to treat Madame C- with all possible consideration, as Lord H. Seymour had by a previous will left her a much larger legacy, but that they considered the plaintiff s demand contrary to the intentions of the deceased, and felt bound to resist it. M. Jules Favre, as counsel for Madame C-, quoted the dictionary of Trevoux to prove that the meaning of the word bijoux had been improperly re- stricted by the Academy, and that it really applied to the articles claimed by his client. The court, after hearing the Avocat-General de Vallee, agreed with him in thinking th"t, though the word bijoux might include some of the articles claimed by Madame C it could not apply to them all, and therefore reduced the sum to be paid to her to20,000f., and condemned the residuary legatees to pay all costs.

A DASHING EXPLOIT. At the last ball given at the Tuileries the Empress was observed to hold a long conversation with a young cavalry officer. The latter was Lieutenant de James of the African Chasseurs, whose heroic conduct in Mexico has been much spoken of in military circles. Some few days before the siege of Puebla, lieutenant de James, when reconnoitring at the head of 70 troopers, encountered unexpectedly a corps of 2,000 Mexican lancers escorting a convoy of stores and provisions to the to n. Without hesitating a moment he ordered a charge, and himself dashed through the enemy's ca- valry without looking to see whether his men could follow him or not. He received three wounds as he passed, one of which disabled his right arm, but, seizing his sabre with the left hand, he defended himself against 20 Mexican troopers until his horse fell mortally wounded. The officer then rose on his knees and con- tinued to fight until he had received several more wounds, when he sank down exhausted through loss of blood. One of the Mexican lancers then cried out, "Lotus finish him!" and placed the muzzle of his carbine on the temple of the lieutenant, who, on feel- ing the cold metal, suddenly threw back his head, and the ball only broke his jaw. Another lancer then ap- proached, and was about to pierce him with his lance, but was cut down by one of four French troopers, who, seeing their officer's danger, had determined to save him at all rirks. Surprised by this sudden attack, the Mexican lancers took to flight, and the lieutenant s deliverers, after stanching his wounds, succeeded in cairying him back to the camp. As soon as General Forey heard of this gallant action, he visited the wounded officer, whose recovery wa« considered hope. less, and gave him the cross of the Legion of Honour. Contrary to all expectation, however, the youngofficer, after lying 56 days between life and death, ultimately recovered, but will never again be fit for military service. On returning to France, he called on Marshal Forey, and requested his old commander to obtain him a place as receiver of taxes. The marshal pro- mised that he himself would speak to the Emperor on the subject. Chef-d'escadron the Marquis de Gallifet afterwards visited his old companion, and said, "You must speak to the Emperor yourself; and, in order to give you an opportunity, I bring you an invitation to the next ball at the Tuileries." Though scarcely able to walk, the young officer went, and Marquis de Galli- fet introduced him to the Emperor, who listened to his story with the deepest interest. Sire," said the lieutenant in concluding, I have received twelve wounds, which render me totally unfit for further service. I therefore pray your majesty to give me a place as receiver of taxes."—" You shall have it," re- plied the Emperor, "for you have merited it a dozen times."

ONLY DICK, THE MADMAN! Mr. Sydney Hodges and his correspondent, Mr. W. F. Peacock, have brought to light another of those stricken creatures who, afflicted by God, seem to have incurred the hatred of their own flesh and blood. It is dreadful to think how many of these unhappy beings are walled up in some outhouse, naked, filthy, hideously woe-Begone, and impri- soned there for long years, abandoned by their kind, living in such wretchedness as no language can describe, and nothing but "ocular proof" realise. Mr. Peacock describes the case as under:— Having commupicated with Mr. Sydney Hodges whose efforts to alleviate the condition of the Cornwall unatics are beyond all praise) respecting a poor de- mented creature in the Isle of Man, permit me to make known to you the complete facts of the case and I would wish to state that his Excellency the Lieutenant- Governor of the island—wrote to me most feelingly on the subject when I brought it under his notice four months ago. I had, in pursuance of literary purposes, rambled over every part of the island, and thrice round it, when in July last I casually heard of a lunatic whose alleged place of imprisonment was" somewhere on the North- road." This "North road" stretches from the village of Kirk Christ Rushen to almost the Point of Ayre. I reached the North-road," and about a mile thence pulled up at the small hamlet of Ballakillowey. After some inquiry I found the object of my visit—the miserably-immured lunatic, "Dick Waterson." There he was in h|^den—a wretched outhouse at the road-angle, and united with a cottage wherein his his mother resides. The brick prison (which I have visiteu' again very recently) harmonised well with the prisoner. Every wind and storm penetrates to its in- Lot Pr 48 blasts of the south drive full into S throS ?n iro^-b^d^^ow/ovd of glass or board It was a rough nig,?*' and the gale shrieked as its cold breath swept on its w*/v northward. I climbed to the wintK>w anr called to Dick, and presently a naked man appi.0^0^^ from his dark cor- ner. The rude hurricane ml*. Wa^ lnJ but the aperture effectually prove* the entrance of any gentle and kindly breeze, mucin more the warm tenderness of the summer air. And this was whom the neighbours speak of as only Dick, tht> madman." Only Dick !—yet a fine, well-built young mtZ11' ^orn by confinement, but still sightly and muscular, ow" beit his face is colourless, his hair matted, and his e)-e sunken. At the age of 16 (and he is now 34) a joking apprentice appeared before him dressed in a white sheet, and scared his senses away. And from that time his relatives have dungeoned him there, being either unwilling or unable to pay the expense of a better place. Built in for more than 17 years, bricked up alive and alone! j The walls of this filthy cowhouse are damp and un- sightly a morsel of foul straw varies the squalid mo- notony of the cold clay noor and Dick Waterson is naked, save a loose sack which now and then he throws on his shivering shoulders. I forbear to speak of the ordure of the place, of the countless vermin which in- habit his (otherwise fair and soft) skin, and of other even more disgusting matters. In a private commu- nication I made the worst known to my benevolent correspondent, Mr. Sydney Hodges, but I dare not hope for the insertion in your columns of particulars at which humanity must revolt and delicacy sicken. It is enough to say that these are the result of sheer neglect. They tell me he is dangerous. I did not find him so. For a half-hour I talked with him, his poor attenuated hand in mine and though ever and anon his eye gleamed dangerously, and his long nails seemed about to close on my fingers, a kind but quick word was sufficient to allay the manifestation of excitement. The cottage adjoining was humbly yet not uncomfort- ably furnished but the door therefrom to his cell had an interlaced fastening of ironwork. I am informed that a male relative tends" him at intervals of some days, and awes him into subjection with a common whip. I cannot positively assert that it is so, but the other facts are what I witnessed. No public print had previously cared to make known the terrible details, nor any private person given to the world the barest information of poor Dick's condition. In sickness, in tempest, throughout the wild night, alone; cut off from all gentle sympathy; naked for so extended a series of years bereft of all that a man requires; denied what even a dog receives: no murderer was ever worse housed; and yet Dick Waterson has done no wrong. He was not born so, for 'he circumstances of a fright deprived him of his right mind. Here is a being with a soul, yet treated worse than a brute for even a brute has clean straw. Make friends with him; give him a penny, and you will see fitful gleams of gratitude in his eye, and evi- dences of that mild disposition which 1 verily believe his God originally conferred on him. I do not say he is not dangerous at times. What man would not be after so miserable an incarceration ? The beauty of sunrise has no charm for him; the glory of sunset cannot cheer his cell; the flood of the noonday fails to enlighten that penthouse. Not abird sings to ease his heart: not a green leaf trembles be- fore his sight. From his depth of darkness he can only behold the wind-swept road and the monotony of sky and cloud. Without a bed, without clothing, with nothing human to rest his wearied limbs upon, there be grovels in the night and in the day. Yet, as though to add satire to the dull horror of the whole, the den of Dick Waterson is within sound of Christ Rushen bells, whithergood people go to praise their God, who made all men equal, and whose best of laws is that which enjoins them to love their neighbours as them- selves, to relieve the distressed, and especially to lessen the sufferings of those whom his mysterious but all-wise providence has mentally afflicted.

HOPE FOR IRELAND! The leading journal, in commenting on the report recently published of the year 1863, lives the following summary of the state of things there, and of the hope there is for the future;— With ORe marked exception, the year 1863 was a bad year—not in the average produce of its own crops, which had not been fully ascertained when these tables were compiled, but will make itself felt in the next returns—but in respect of the quantity of land under cultivation and the number of live stock, ele- ments which are really determined by the profits or losses of the previous year. When, therefore, we find, as we do, that there is a falling off in the exteut under wheat, oats, barley, and other cereals, amounting to 144,719 acres in all, or between 5 and 6 per cent., we must attribute it mainly to the failure of the harvest in 1862. The decrease in green crops is much less con- siderable, the deficiency in turnips and some others being partially made up by potatoes, cabbage, carrots, and parsneps. Still there is a net decrease of about 20,000 acres, due no doubt to the same cause. We regret to add that this decline in crops of all kinds has shown itself in every province, though there is some com- pensation by the increase of grass land in Ulster and Connaught. Deducting a slight decrease in Leinster and Munster, we have a net gain of 17,723 acres under this head throughout Ireland. The bright spot in this part of the report is, as our leaders might expect, that which relates to the growth of flax. Here we have an accession of 63,922 acres, raising the total acreage under flax to 213,992, which exceeds by 39,413 acres the greatest extent sown in any year since these statistics commenced in 1847." The accounts of live stock tell the same general story as those cereals and roots. In every class—horses, cattle, sheep, and pigs—there is a diminution since 1862, and in all but horses there is a diminution upon a comparison of 1863 with 1855. On the other hand, it is satisfactory to notice "an increase in Ireland of 12,771 cattle, under the head one year old and under two years, and of 19,148 under one year." It is curious, moreover, that animals "for amusement or recreation" have multiplied in every pro- vince, notwithstanding the impoverishment repre- sented by the other tables. There is an obvious con- nection between the decrease of live stock and the oc- cupation of bog and waste —in other words, of boggy and mountainous pastures. 74,856 acres of this de- scription of land have been added to the four millions and a half unoccupied" last year, and the Registrar- General traces both results to the great drought of 1859, followed by the excessive rains of the next three years. The effects of the more genial summer of 1863 have not yet been registered, but we are enoouragni tu fonn hopeful conjectures of them. It may fairly be estimated that the yield of the cereal crops in par- ticular this year (1863) will prove above the average which has been known for many seasons in Ireland; and although there is a falling off in the total acreage, yet it is confidently expected that it will be compen- sated by the abundant produce of almost all crops, the total value of which, it has been computed, will in I 1863 exceed that of the crops of last year by several millions sterling, and approximate to that of some of our best years in flax alone the increase in value over 1862, caused by the larger acreage of 63,922 acres, com- bined with the abundant yield and superior quality, will. it is estimated, amount to 1,000,000 £ This means, in some sense, that while there are fewer mouths to feed there is more to fill them whether it will tell in another way, by retarding emi- gration, remains to be proved. At the end of last September, when this return was made up, no indica- tion of any abatement was visible. Though Mr. Whiteside's round assertion that 100,000 fighting men had left Ireland in 13 months is not supported by the figures, the numbers are quite large enough to startle us. 80,506 persons had emigrated during the first seven months of 1863, against 45,899 who left Ireland during the corresponding period of 1862, and the total of Irish emigrants since the 1st May, 1851, had reached 1,378,333 by last August.

ROTTEN ROW. All the Tear Round this week begins a new volume with a new tale by Mr. G. A. Sala, from which we select the intro- duction, giving a description of that celebrated ride in H\de Park, London, termed "Rotten Row." Mr. Sala, asade- scriber of what he has seen, has no equal, as will be per- ceived from the following;— This is Hyde Park, at the most brilliant moment in the afternoon, at the most brilliant period in the season. What a city of magnificence, of luxury, of pleasure, of pomp, and of pride, this London seems to be. Can there be any poor or miserable people—any dingy grubs among these gaudy butterflies? What are the famed Elysian fields of P*ris to Hyde Park at this high tide of splendour? What the cavalcade of the Bois de Boulogne, or the promenade of Longchamps, to the long stream of equipages noiselessly rolling along the Bank of the Serpentine? Everybody in London (worth naming) is being carried along on wheels, or bestrides pigskin girthed o'er hundred-guinea horseflesh, or struts in bright boots, or trips in soft sandalled prunella, or white satin with high heels. There is Royal blood in a mail phaeton. Royal blood cmokes a large cigar, and haudles its ribbons scientifically. There is a Duke in the dumps, and be- hind him is the Right Reverend Father, in a silk apron and a shovel-hat, who made that fierce verbal assault upon his Grace in the House of Lords last night. There is the crack advocate of the day, the successful defender of the young lady who was accused of poi- soning her mamma with nux vomicain her negus and there is the young lady herself, encompassed with a nimbus of petticoat, lolling back in a miniature brougham with a gentleman old enough to be her grandfather, in a high stock, and a wig dyed deep indigo. Is that Anonyma driving twin ponies in a low phaeton, a parasol attached to her whip, and a groom with folded arms behind her! Bah! there are so maay Anonymas now-a-days. If it isn't the name- less one herself, it is Synonyma. Do you see that stout gentleman with the coal-black beard and the tarnished fez cap ? That is the Syrian ambassador. The liver-coloured man in tho dingy white turban, the draggletailed blue burnous, the cotton stockings, and the alpaca umbrella, is the Maronite envoy. The nobleman who is driving that four-in-hand, and is got up to such a perfection of imitation of the manners and costume of a stage- coachman, has a rental of a hundred and thirty thou- sand a year. He passes his time mostly among ostlers, enginedrivers, and firemen. He swears, smokes a cutty pipe, and of his two intimate friends, one is a rough rider and the other a rat-catcher. Mr. Benazi, the great Hebrew financier, you must know: yonder cadaverous, dolorous-looking figure in shabby clothes, huddled up in a corner of the snuff- coloured chariot, drawn by the spare-ribbed horses that look as though they had never enough to eat. He is Baron Benazi in the Grand-Duchy of Sachs- Pfeifigen, where he lent the Grand-Duke money to get the crown jewels out of pawn. That loan was the making of Ben. There is nothing remarkable about him save his nose, which stands out, a hooked pro- montory, like the prow of a Roman galley, from among the shadows cast by the squabs of the snuff- coloured chariot. That nose is a power in the State. That nose represents millions. When Baron Benazi's nose shows signs of flexibility, monarchs may breathe again, for loans can be negotiated. But, when the Benazian proboscis looks stern and rigid, and its owner rubs it with an irritable finger, it is a sadly ominous sign of something being rotten in the state of Sachs-Pfeifigen, and of other empires and monarchies which I will not stay to name. What else? Everything. Whom else? Everybody. Dandies and swells, smooth-cheeked and heavy- moustached, twiddling their heavy guard-chains, ca- ressing their fawn-coloured favoris, clanking their spurred heels, screwing their eye-glasses into the creases of their optic muscles, haw-hawing vacuous commonplaces to one another, or leaning over the rails to stare at all, to gravely wag the head to some, to nod superciliously to others, to grin familiarly to a select few. Poor little snobs and Government clerks aping the grand manner, .ind succeeding only in looking silly. Any number of quiet sensible folks surveying the humours of the scene with much amuse- ment, and without envy. Foreigners who, after a five years' residence in L^don, may have discovered that Leicester-square, the^jtu^ymarket, and the lower part of Regent-street are not only promenades in London, and so come swaggering and jabbering here, in their braid and their pomatum and their dirt, poisoning the air with the fumes of bad tobacco. An outer fringe of Rurse- maids-then some soldiers listlessly sucking the knobs of their canes, and looking very much as if they con- sidered themselves as flies in amber, neither rich nor rare, and wondering how the deuce they got there. As useless as chimneys in summer, seemingly, are these poor Btrong men done up in scarlet blanketing, with three half-pence a day spending money, and nobody to kill, and severely punished by illogical magistrates if they take to jumping upon policemen, or breaking civilians' heads with the buckles of their belts, through their weariness. Aggravated assaults, says the magistrate, as he signs their mittimus, are not to be tolerated.

THE NEW RAILWAY MANIA! About eighteen years ago the Times stepped in and stopped the railway mania of that day, to the injury of many, but certainly to the benefit of the' great public in the aggregate. This leading journal seeing symptoms of a return to that previous state of things, again gives its note of warning, from which we select the following:— When the domestic story of this century comes to be written, the foundation of our railways will be one of its most prominent features. In magnitude, in labour, in cost, and in skill they will far surpass the castles which marked one age, the religious buildings which marked another, and the roads, canals, docks, and harbours which prepared the way for the last and greatest of our material improvements. Posterity will do full justice to this work of the giants. But the story will be saddened by a reflection not uncommon in re- gard to great achievements. "Sicvos, non vobisad- dressed to the original shareholders, may be inscribed over the magnificent stations of some of our principal companies. When the aggregate dividends are com- pared with the aggregate expenditure, the rate is too often not equal to what might have been ob- tained without any trouble from Government securi- ties. RAILWAY MARTYRS Large families, once buoyant with golden hopes, have had to close their railway account with the loss of all or half their property; or they have had to struggle on, perhaps borrowing, er at best doing all all the luxuries and appearances of life out of the miserable balance left after their fixed and necessary expenditure. Such are not a few of the people who may be said to have supplied the country with rail- ways and when we review the enormous sum of toil and skill and courage in their formation, we must not forget the silent sacrifices, often the utter ruin, of the original shareholders. TOUTING FOB CUSTOMERS Unfortunately, this is not a calamity once for all, but a process continued to this very day. As soon as a railway, after long diminished dividends, begins to pay a little more than the public funds, it is dragged again into speculati on. Its territory is invaded; its rivals press its heels; new companies obtain running powers upon it; a formidable competitor seizes a position in advance of its London terminus; another offers ten miles less between the two termini; another pushes a head into the distant provinces another cuts off half a dozen towns or a district of collieries. So it becomes necessary either to defeat the enemy for a session or two at a great expense, or to offer equal accommoda- tion to the public, who are always supposed to be ready to suffer any loss, or inflict any damage, for the sake of two or three miles, or as many shillings in the course of a year. NEW SYMPTOMS OF SPECULATION. They must either make their own feeders or accept those imposed upon them, or see their own territory taken away and annexed to some rival dominion. This they must do even in the face of very recent experience of extensions and branches that do not pay, and that are worked at a positive loss. The shareholding public are so accustomed to such incidents, that they take for granted railways will survive them, as they have sur- vived, with no great ultimate loss. But just now there are symptoms of speculation breaking loose altogether, and running to the extremes which have periodically inflicted widespread misery in this country. About every ten years the public have sufficiently forgotten former disasters to rush into new dangers. As the lapse of fifteen or twenty years is sufficient to produce a new generation, anxious for some pretence to plunge into war, so a somewhat less period reproduces a com- mercial or money-making mania. Such a mania may now be at hand; and if it is we may hope, for the sake of many thousand misguided beings, that it will not come at the same time with a European war. A RAILWAY WANTED AT EVERY MAN'S DOOR. If our railway companies would only give their experience, and publish a faithful account of gain and loss upon all their mileage, new and old, they would open the eyes of the public to the folly of some new proposed lines. Of course everybody now wants a railway within a couple of miles of his country house, or a quarter of a mile from his villa in the suburbs. If he cannot obtain the required accommodation from one company, he throws himself into the arms of another. If both take the matter in hand, so much the better for him; and if both lose their money, that is their affair, or rather the affair of the poor dupes who are taking his word for the necessity and the certain profit of the new line. But if actual wants are often exaggerated, and a pardonable egotism itself will multiply tenfold the possible traffic of a favourite neighbourhood, there are plenty to back up the error, and minister to its execution. THE WILDER THE PROJECT THE EASIER OF ACHIEVEMENT. Engineers, contractors, lawyers start up at the slightest summons, and soon fill the public mind with schemes which hold their ground by their very vast- ness and singularity. The grander a project, the more likely is it to find favour with that very large part of society which often finds itself at a loss for legi- timate excitement. We are not at all sure that the utterly wild character of some of the schemes now actually before Parliament will not plead in their favour. Who, for example, would not like to see a railway flying across the Thames at one wide and lofty leap over the masts of the shipping below? One travels a hundred miles to see many less wonders abroad. Who, too, would not like to see trains dashing at lightning speed through any metropolis which he was visiting for the single purpose of seeing the feat ? But if these miracles of art are to be attempted in our own country, and even in this metropolis, then we cannot help a pang for the poor shareholders who look to us for guidance, and ought to be told that skylarking won't do for poor people.

A QUARREL BETWIXT TWO LADIES! The Paris correspondent of the Court Journal must b< responsible for the following narrative The scandalous tale of the week fortunately comes from afar, even from Turin. But in this case distance has not lent enchantment to the view, and the storj has caused the greatest annoyance at the Tuileries, as well as in many other places. A certain lady whose marriage, although not of very recent date, is still re- garded as the most lucky event which has yet befallen the illustrious family to which she belongs, has again been suffering hex ptwcicm for notoriety to overcome the promise she so solemnly made that never more should her name be brought before the public in any way whatever. Until this hour the vow has been kept-the marriage has proved an exceedingly happy one, being a union of the most opposite qualities in husband and wife, which, according to philosophers, is the sure element productive of happiness in the mar- riage state. So great was the security that the lady had been almost forgotten at the Tuileries, when lo in the very middle of the Carnival, comes the woeful news of another series of "revelations," another scandal, another suit for slander and defamation! This time the affair is serious, and likely to produce a universal scandal It appears that a certain august member of the same illustrious family as that of which the heroine of the tale is a member, austere and reserved in her principles, always refusing to overlook the slight derelictions of the fair lady in question, objected to receive her some years ago, when by accident they met at the Hotel de Berg, on the Lake of Geneva. Both ladies are endowed with keen wit and high temper. The lady who had been refused admittance insisted on an explanation from her relative in a boisterous letter, which must have been couched in offensive terms, as the reply was decisive and peremptory. The Duchess was not in the habit of receiving Princesses who had sunk to the demi- monde. This bi'ter reply must have rankled for years in the bosom of the fair one to whom it was addressed, but time and good luck in life are both excellent reme- dies for wounds of this nature, and the proud relation being at Turin, was again waited upon by the offended beauty. Again, however, has she been refused admittance, again has her card been sent back, and again has she demanded an explanation of the affront. This time the proud relative must have been in a rage, for she merely scrawled on the outside of madame's own note, which she sent back open by a common commissionnaire, that she was not in the habit of opening her doors to demi-mondes, even when risen to the rank of Princesses. Without the smallest regard for consequences, the in- jured lady has sbown the offensive epistle to all Turin, has wailed her grievance in every ear, and has finally brought an action for defamation, which has some little chance of success, as a servant is brought in as witness to the injurious terms in which the proud relation spoke of the demi-monde Princess and the Princess demi-monde, so that the affair promises to furnish a few weeks' amusement to Turin, and a long space of annoyance to the Tuileries.

PRESIDENT LINCOLN. Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe gives, in the Christian Watch- man and Rcflector, a sketch of Abraham Lincoln, being one of a series of articles on Men of Our Times." We take the following therefrom :— Abraham Lincoln is, in the strictest sense, a man of the working classes. AH his advantages and abilities are those of a man of the working classes and his position, now at the head of one of the most powerful nations of the earth, is a sign to all who live by labour that their day is coming. Lincoln was born to the in- heritance of hard work as truly as the poorest labourer's son that digs m our fields. At seven years of age he was set to work, axe in hand, to clear up a farm in the Western forest. Until he was seventeen his life was that of a simple farm labourer, with only such intervals of schooling as farm labourers get. Pro- bably the school instruction of his whole life would not amount to more than one year. At nineteen he made a trip to New Orleans as a hired man on a flatboat, and on his return he split the rails for a log eabin and built it, and enclosed ten acres of land with a rail fence of his own handiwork. The next year he hired himself for twelve dollars a month to build a flatboat and to take her to New Orleans and any one who knows what the life of a Mississippi boatman was in those days must know that it involved every kind of labour. In 1832, in the Black Hawk Indian war, the hardy boatman volunteered to fight for his country, and was unanimously elected a captain, and served with honour for a season in frontier military life. After this. while serving as a postmaster, he began his law studies, bor- rowing the books he was too poor to buy, and studying by the light of his evening fire. He acquired a name in the country about as a man of resources and shrewd- ness he was one that people looked to for counsel in exigencies, and to whom they were wont to depute almost any enterprise which needed skill and energy. The surveyor of Sangamon county, being driven with work, came to him to take the survey of a tract off his hands. True, he had never studied surveying-but what of that? He accepted the "job," procured a chain, and did the work. Do we not see in this a parable of a wider wilderness which in later years he has undertaken to survey and fit for human habitation without chart or surveyor's chain? Little did the convention that nominated Abraham Lincoln for President know what they were doing. Little did the honest, fatherly, patriotic man, who stood in his simplicity on the platform at Springfield, asking the prayers of his townsmen, and receiving their pledges to remember him, foresee how awfully he was to need those prayers, the prayers of all this nation, and the prayers of all the working, suffering common people throughout the world. God's hand was upon him with a visible protection, saving first from the danger of assassination at Baltimore, and bringing him safely to our national capitol. Then the world has seen and wondered at the greatest sign and marvel of our day to wit-a plain, working man of the people, with no more culture, instruction, or education than any such working man may obtain for himself, called on to conduct the passage of a great people through a crisis involving the destinies of the whole'world. The eyes of princes, nobles, aristocrats-of dukes, earls, scholars, statesmen, warriors, all turned on the plain backwoodsman, with his simple sense, his imperturb- able simplicity, his determined self-reliance, his im- practicable and incorruptible honesty, as he sat amid the war of conflicting elements with unpretending steadiness, striving to guide the national ship through a channel at whose perils the world's oldest statesmen stood aghast. The brilliant courts of Europe levelled their opera-glasses at the phenomenon. Fair ladies saw that he had horny hands and disdained white gloves. Dapper diplomatists were shocked at his system of etiquette, but old statesmen, who knew the terrors of that passage, were wiser than court ladies and dandy diplomatists, who watched him with a fear- ful curiosity, simply asking, "Will that awkward old backwoodsman really get that ship through ? If he does, it will be time for us to look about us." No man in this agency has suffered more and deeper, albeit with a dry, weary, patient pain, that seemed to some like insensibility, "Whichever way it ends," he said to the writer, "I have the impression that I shan't last long after it is over." After the dreadful repulse of Fredericksburg he is reported to have said, If there is a man out of hell that suffers more than I do, I pity him." In those dark days his heavy eyes and worn and weary air told how our reverses wore upon him, and yet there was a never-failing fund of patience at bottom that sometimes rose to the surface in some droll, quaint saying, or story, that forced a laugh even from himself. Lincoln is a strong man, but his strength is of a peculiar kind; it is not aggressive so much as passive, and among passive jings it is like the strength not so much of a stone butt ess as a wire cable. It is strength swaying to every influence, yielding on this side and on that to popular needs, yet tenaciously and inflexibly bound to carry its great end; and probably by no other kind of strength could our national ship have been drawn safely thus far during the tossings and tempests which beset her way. Surrounded by all sorts of conflicting claims, by traitors, by half-hearted, timid men, by border State men and Free State men, by radical Abolitionists and Conservatives, he has listened to all, weighed the words of all, waited, ob- served, yielded now here and now there, but in the main kept one inflexible honest purpose, and drawn the national ship through. In the time of our trouble Abraham Lincoln has had his turn of being the best- abused man of our nation. Like Moses leading his Israel through the wilderness, he has seen the day when every man seemed ready to stone him, and yet, with simple, wiry, steady perseverance he has held on, conscious of honest intentions, and looking to God for help. All the nation have felt, in the increasing so- lemnity of his proclamations and papers, how deep an education was being wrought in his mind by tbia simple faith in God, the Ruler of nations, and this humble willingness to learn the awful lessons of his pro- vidence.

PORTERS' PRIVILEGES. Most persons who have resided a winter in Paris are aware that the porters of houses in which apartments are let un- furnished levy a toll on all the firewood purchased by the tenants. In former times, when nothing but wood was burnt, it used to be brought whole and sawn in the court- yard, and the porter was allowed to take the largest billet as a compensation for cleaning up afterwards. At present, as wood is generally brought ready sawn and the coal in sacks, but little inconvenience is caused to the porters— concierges as they now style themselves. But, though the reason for the tenant's liberality has ceased, the concierges have largely raised their demands, as will be seen by the fol- lowing case brought before the Tribunal of Correctional Police, in Paris, when a man named Miquel, a carter in the em- ployment of M. Nozal, a coal merchant, was tried on a charge of illegally disposing of coal entrusted to him for delivery to M. Baneau, master tailor, of No. 2, Bouvelard des Capncines:- Vautravers, the concierge of the house just men. tioned, and Rose, a journeyman employed by M. Baneau, were also charged as his accomplices in re- ceiving the same. It appeared from the statement of M. Baneau that he consumed 40 sacks of coal per month, delivered in loads of 20 sacks. Having re- cently suspected that he did not receive his full weight, he determined to investigate the matter, and soon found that, of every load sent by M. Nozal, one sack at least was always given by the carter to the concierge, with the connivance of Roze, his own journeyman, who also received If. each time from the carter. He accord- ingly lodged a complaint with the police, and the three prisoners appeared to take their trial. In answer to the President'si question^ the carter Miquel at once admitted that he always gave one sack out of every load to the concierge and If. in money to Roze, in doing wliich he thought he was only following an established usage. Roze also declared that when he entered M. Baneau's service, Vautravers had said that he (Vautravers) was entitled to one sack out of every 20 supplied to the tenants. The concierge, who was next interrogated, presented himself with the air of a man proud of a position which brought him in an income of 4,000f. a year, con- scious of his rights, and determined to maintain them. He boldly admitted that he had always taken one sack in 20, as he had a right to do, and as all other concierges did. The President then said: If the usage is universal, it ought not to be, for it is nothing less than robbery." Vautravers "That is not my opinion. Were not concierges formerly entitled to 1 per cent. on the rent ?" The President "That has been replaced by an in- crease of wages. No doubt you would like to revive the usage indirectly. I have been informed that you pretend to fix the sum tenants should give you as a present on New Year's-day. You demanded 200f. from one tenant, and were greatly scandalised when he would only give 50f. But, to return to the charge against you, M. Baneau says that you have some- times taken as many as five sacks of his coals in a month. Vautravers: The tailor may say what he pleases; I have never taken more than my right." The President: You have no such right, and your taking any coal at all is a robbery. M. Baneau states that, instead of being content with one-twentieth, you have taken one-sixth of the l,200f. worth of coal he buys yearly." Vautravers: "I am not a thief. I keep the key of the coai-cellar, and never take a bit." The President: Perhaps not; there are many people who will not openly steal, but are ever ready to purloin under SOUR pretext or other." After hearing counsel for the defence, the Tribunal declared the charges proved, and sentenced Miquel to six months'imprisonment; Vautiw/er* to four months'; and Roze to one and all three were coir/wntly con- demned to pay lOOf. damages to M. Baneau.

PECULATIONS OF SERVANTS. We thought it nothing less than our duty to defend ser- vant girls last week, against the very unjust charges a certain class of mistreim are constantly urging against them (says the London Review). Havi"g performed that duty, we are quite open to admit that t,, ere is arever-e side to the me(tal, as regards one portion of our service, and that a portion chiefly engaged by the upper ten thousand. THE COOK. The ordinary female domestics of middle-class life are, without doubt, more sinned against than sinning, -with one exception, the all-important cook. They have a saying in Yorkshire, that God sends the meat and the devil sends cooks. At all events, no lady has kept house for a dozen years without finding out that the portly person who presides over the spit causes her more trouble than all the rest of the domestics put together. A household may go on like clockwork, without friction or complaint as regards the major portion of the machinery, but there is one wheel that never can be depended upon for any length of time, and that one is invariably the female cook. The most respectable females of this profession are apt to break down just as you have been incautiously praising them either they get drunk just as the guests are arriving at a dinner party, or they become seized with a frenzy of quarrelling with the other domestics, or they suddenly grow sulky and sullen, and do all kinds of odd and unaccountable things. Now, as these are varieties of temper and habit which are peculiar to this class of servants, there must be some special cause for it, and the chief cause is very evident. We are all apt to engage this indispensable domestic at a rather advanced age. Your model cook is always a very portly person about fifty years of age, and it is our belief that, unless she is fat and about the age we mention, she is considered, both by herself and her employers, as not quite full, blown and entitled to obtain the highest wages. It is thought as proper that she should be fat as that Jeames should have a slim person and well-developed calves. She who has so much to do with dripping should herself be fat. Such is the invariable rule on which society acts in engaging the dictatress of the kitchen, and it is the cause of the main portion of the troubles we suffer at the hands of our cooks. ORGANISED PLUNDER. Our readers perhaps are not aw&re of the organised manner in which the well-to-do are plundered, or the wide and respectable circle (so to speak) which is in- volved in this nefarious system. It would, perhaps, be going too far to say that every tradesman whose connection lies among the upper ten thousand" is an accomplice in this wide-spread system of plunder, but there can be little doubt that at least 75 per cent. of them unwillingly lend themselves to carry it out. When a master is too great a gentleman to attend to his own concerns, they naturally fall into those of his servants, and the power thus obtained is soon put to profitable account. The butcher, the baker, the cheesemonger, and all the other purveyors of thedaily wants of the family, are in fact in the hands of the steward or the housekeeper, and it is a well-under- stood thing that unless handsome douccurs are made by tbe tradesmen to these worthies, the custom of the family, sooner or later, is transferred to more com- pliant dealers. The honest tradesman, who refuses to fall in with "the usual custom," moreover finds that he not only loses the custom of the master whose servants he has displeased, but that he fails to gain others for the very fact of his not doing the regulars" is speedily made known to other servants in the publics used" by the fraternity, and his shop becomes "taboo" at once to other masters. Those tradesmen, however, who, finding it of no avail to contend against this established order of things, and have gone thoroughly with the stream, not only enlarge the emoluments of the managing servants by handsome payments, bot actually condescend to cater for them day by day, ft ia the custom in many large West-end houses to have a table laid out in some back room, covered with the delicacies of the season and with different wines, and here about midday the butler and gentleman's gentle- man drop in and Jo justice to the excellent fare. In one large and well-known establishment a cask of wine is always on draught, and no upper servant ever delivers a message or order there without taking his glass or two as a matter of right. It is unnecessary to say that the cost ultimately comes out of the pockets of the masters. THE GROOM AND COACHMAN. If a master keeps horses, lie is bled even still more profusely by his groom or coachman, who in nearly every instance has a private treaty with the corn- chandler. In our generation they no longer grease the teeth of the horses, but those of the master. It is a common stipulation, that the groom or coachman, who may have the paying of the quarterly bills, shall Ie- ceive 5 per cent. discount, and no doubt in many cases this is rather under than over the mark. So unblush- ingly is the black mail demanded and paid, that trades- men themselves make no secret of it, and deplore the necessity they are under of submitting to it. If it is resisted, the carriage-horses begin to fall off in appear- ance, and when the master complains, it is all put down to the light quality of the oats," and by one manoeuvre or other the cornchandler is changed. In the neighbourhood of May Fair you may always see a wicked-looking groom and a tradesmanlike person in greasy black, whispering and confabulating under their breath at the corners of the back streets—you can see that they are plotting how they can do the "guv'nor" in the most ingenious manner. The coachmaker ano the harness-maker must submit to the same pressure if they wish to keep the work of the establishment in their hands; and hence the fabulous charges they are accustomed to make. THE BUTLER. It is not our intention to enter into the question of the butler's perquisities in kind, that is a matter which custom has almost transformed into a right; the statistics of our hospitals, however, but too truly indicate the manner in which they exercise their power over the wine cellar. Perhaps, of all classes of the population, with the exception of tavern-keepers, this class of servants is the most subject to delirium tremens, and we have the authority of Dr. Druett, one of the officers of health for the May Fair district, for saying that, almost to a man, their constitutions are rotten and worthless, from the constant habit of tippling. They swarm in the hospitals, and when disease takes them, their lives are always in jeopardy. It is, of course, difficult to estimate the loss mas- ters are subjected to by the constant vinous drain that is going on upon their cellars but that is only a part of the mischief. The butler, in many cases, is the master's wine-taster, and his judgment is depended upon in other cases the cellar is wholly under his control, and he as jealously guards it from all intrusion as the cook does her kitchen. In such cases both master and wine merchant are wholly in the hands of this very important personage, and he rarely neglects to take advantage of his position. Not many years ago, a case came on for trial in which the amount of the per-centage received by the late Duke of Devon- shire's butler from his Grace's wine merchant was made public. It will be remembered it was not a question of pounds, but of hundreds of pounds, and in all pro. bability the ducal butler was but an average specimen of his class. It is a fact that servants of this class accumulate very handsome sums of money, and gene. rally end their career by becoming hotel proprietors, or engaged in other employments of a like nature, re- quiring no inconsiderable capital. THE WASH-TUB. But the old and ordinary methods ofPpeculation are not sufficient for these advanced times, and we perceive that a totally new line has been struck out by our cooks. The wash-tub" has become an institution as firmly established as the "grease-pot," and the two form a drain upon our domestic commissariat, to which we are all by this time pretty well accustomed but improvements even upon this old style have been in- troduced, and "wash" is now so enriched that human beings are content to share it with the porcine tribe. We are informed by one of the Scripture readers in the Notting-hill district, that kitchen refuse-for which the Potteries, as the pig-keeping district, is the grand terminus—is now assorted, and the best portion sold to the poor as an article of food. The natural inference is that the cook is tempted by a better price to throw in meat that should be con- sumed by the household. The very serious nature of this practice must strike every one as calculated to exhaust the household more than all the other causes of petty pilfering put together; and it would seem that our cooks, emboldened by impunity, are not satisfied with making away with provisions in this disguised manner, but are getting into the habit of selling broken bread and cold meat direct from the larder.

MAHOMEtts CHARACTER AND APPEARANCE. Many descriptions have been given of the founder of Mohammedanism, but few on which any:dependence can be placed, because they have been collected from second-hand scources. Mr. Muir, however, in his "life of Mahomet," has gathered the following from the original Arabic, and is therefore more to be relied on Slightly above the middle size, his figure, though spare, was handsome and commanding, the chest broad and open, the bones and framework large, the joints well knit together. His neck was long and finely mohlded. The head, unusually large, gave space for a broad and noble brow. The hair, thick, jet black, and slightly curling, fell down upon his ears. The ejebrows were arched and joined. The coun- tenance thin, but ruddy. His large eyes, intensely black and piercing, received additional lustre from their long dark eyelashes. The nose was high and slightly aquiline, but fine, and at the end attenuated. The teeth were far apart. A black, bushy beard, reaching to the breast, added manliness and presence. His expression was pensive and contemplative. The face beamed with intelligence, though something of the sensuous also might be there discerned.^ The skin of his body was clear and soft; the only hair that met the eye was a fine thin line which ran down from the neck towards the navel. His broad back leaned slightly forward as he walked; and his step was hasty, yet sharp and decided, like that of one rapidly de- scending a declivity. There waa something unsettled in his blood-shot eye, which refused to rest upon its object. When he turned towards you, it was never partially, but with the whole body. Taciturn and reserved, he was yet in company dis- tiuguished by a graceful urbanity. -► His words were l pregnant and laconic but when it pleased him to I unbend, his speech was often humorous, and some- | times pungent. At such seasons he entered with zest I into the diversion of the moment, and now and then I would laugh immoderately. But in general he listened to the conversation rather than joined in it. He was the subject of strong passions, but they were so abso- lutely under the control of reason.or of discretion, that they rarely appeared upon the surface. When much excited, the vein between his eyebrows would mantle, and violently swell across-his ample forehead yet he was cautious if not cunning, and in action fearless of personal danger. Mahomet was generous and considerate to his friends, and by his well-timed favour and attention knew how to rivet even the disaffected to his service. He regarded his enemies, so long as they continued their opposition, with a vindictive and unrelenting hatred; yet he was rarely known to pursue a foe after he had tendered a timely submission.; His com- manding mien inspired the stranger with an unde- fined and indescribable awe but on closer intimacy, apprehension and fear gave place to confidence and love. Behind the quiet and unobtrusive exterior of Mahomet lay hid a high resolve, a singleness and unity of purpose, a strength and fixedness of will, a sublime determination, destined to achieve the matyellous work of bowing towards himself the heart of all Arabia 1 as the heart of one man. Khadijah was the first to I perceive these noble and commanding qualities, and J perceive these noble and commanding qualities, and J with a child-like confidence she surrendered to him her will and her faith.

PEACE NOTES FROM POLAND! t The special correspondent of the Daily News, in travelling > over Poland, has fallen across many amusing and interesting 1 subjects unconnected with the present insurrection. Of i these he has made note, and from his latest letters we select 1 the following1 THE ORIGIN OP THE POLES. 1 To the Poles a place full of historical interest, as 1 the following1 THE ORIGIN OF THE POLES. 1 To the Poles a place full of historical interest, as 1 being the traditional cradle of their race, Gniesen is a name with which most of your readers will be quite unacquainted. According to the old fable, it was here that Lech, the progenitor of the Polish nation, dis- i covered the white eagle's nest, and buiit him a ca&tle, a » which remained the royal residence until the seat of J government was transferred to Cracow. The town 4 lies pleasantly in a hollow, and, either from the difl» I covery of the eagle's nest, or from its resemblance to a bird's nest, received the name of Gniesno (Germanice, Gniesen), from the Polish word "griazdo" a nest. At the same time that Lech founded the kingdom of Poland, his brother Czech established himself in Bo- hemia, from which country Christianity was imported i into Poland. Poland was yet heathen when, in th0 I latter part of the tenth century, the; Princess Dom- 1 browka inherited the throne ef Bohemia. Among the suitors for her hand the most comelv was Micislas, King of Poland, and Dombrowka did -not conceal her preference for him. The only obstacle to their union was the difference of religion, but this^as happily got over, and it was stipulated as the cond^on of the mar' riage that the Polish prince and his-petMe should adopt the Christian religion. Then the templp|p £ -the heathen 1 deities, Swist Poswist, Lelum Poleluin,* was demo- f lished, and a fair cathedral rose from its ruins. To con* < secrate the Christian shrine, Swientz Wojckch, or St> Adalbert, was sent for from Bohemia, Jgod was in* Btalled first Archbishop of Gniesen, .^fmch city re- mained the seat of the metropolitan the constitu- tion of the Archbishopric of Warsaw. St. Adalbert's day is the 23rd of April, on which oc- casion the cathedral itself, the hill on .which it stands, and the streets leading to the hill, are densely crammed with a motley crowd of peasants from the.surrounding country. On the day when all England will be paying tribute to the genius of Shakspeare, St. Adalbert'* famous hymn "Boga rodzica" will be raised to heaven for 900 years, from the cathedral hill of Gniesno. From Gniesno St. Adalbert went forth to convert the Prus. sions, at whose hands he met his death, which became the first occasion of the feud which has existed evep since between the Germans and Poles. A POLISH PHILANTHROPIST. Fifteen years have wrought a mighty change in Miloslaw. The chateau alone suggests the bloody 1 days of 1848, all else breathes an air of the most pro- 1 found repose. Nowhere else in Poland have I met 1 with such unmistakable signs of the care of the pro- I prietor for the people. A pretty Gothic church, with [ a campanile detached, has risen on the site of the decayed old building, which was formerly thought good enough for Divine worship. An excellent, school, with four lofty, airy rooms, raised mainly at the expense of the cure, who, while they were in prison together at Berlin, was presented with the living by the proprietor, contrasts most favourably with the miserable accommodation usn-J'y afforded for educational purposes. ■ Last and not least, by impro. a> dwellings of the peasants, Count Mielzynski I a example to the neighbourhood which cannob^' v be productive of immense good. Instead of, miserable hovels, i built of wood and mud, in -.vhlCh the peasants were I lodged hardly better tha* pigs, substantial blocks ol 1 briok cottages, witb. oneerful red-tiled roofs, impart ■ a most thriving aspect to the village. In each block m are four dwellings, each having its separate door and offices, enabling the tenanta to live with such regard to decency as was quite incompatible with the con. dition of their former dwellings, and which alone can raise, them in the scale of civilisation. These im- provements have been carried on in a most enlightened spirit, and being the combined product of iphilanthropy and speculation, possess a double vauue. My peasants," remarked Count Mielzynski to me, j are the most valuable animals on my estate; and, I independently of the moral duty I am performing in seeing that they are decently lodged, I shall not lose in the long run in a commercial point of view." The Bishop of London could not have put the point more forcibly before a select audience at Willis's Rooms, or f Lord Brougham before a Social Science meeting. For the benefit of such persons as suppose Poland to be a howling wilderness, peopled by wolves and bears, I may observe that I hardly know a village in England where so much has been done for the poor as at Miloslaw and its satellite villages. Nor have the Christians alone been cared for. By designing a tasteful synagogue for the Jews, and himself super- intending its erection, Count Mielzynski has proved himself very far ahead of the spirit of the age, and not afraid to run counter to public opinion, which is still to a considerable extent for keeping the Jews in their former state of degradation. DOMBROWSKI AND HIS MAZURCK. In the village church of Winagora, at a short dis. tance from Miloslaw, reposes one of Poland's greatest heroes. No more fitting inscription could have been conceived to commemorate the name of Dombrowski than the simple words, "Jeszcze Polska nic zginela" (Not yet is Poland lost), the first line of the well- known mazurck [a kind of song] which was composed for his legions, who shed their blood for France on many a hard-fought field. With Dombrowski, how- ever, his country was always his first thought, and his extreme patriotism, combined with his independence of character, could not fail to stand in the way of his advancement by Napoleon, who only leaked on the Polish legions as a means of furthering his own ambi. tion. In Prince Poniatowski the Emperor found a more ready tool, and did not scruple to advance him, though a junior officer, and of decidedly inferior capacity, over the head of Dombrowski. This unmerited slight on the part of Napoleon could not but wound the feelings of Dombrowski, but, as he loved his country more than himself, he cheerfully accepted a subordinate command. His reply to the somewhat delicate re- quest made to him to contribute to the erection of a bronze statue to commemorate Poniatowski'* death is worthy of being recorded—" Let Poniatowski have his bronze, I shall have my mazurck." As "Jeszcze Polska nic zginela" was chanted by his legions, round their camp fires, on the eve of a hundred battles, so now these magic words serve as a most appropriate lullaby to the warrior who has gone to his rest.

WEALTHY-WITH NOTHING TO DO. The San Francisco correspondent of the New York Times gives the following amusing account of some of the wealthy in that city The Ophir mine is now paying about 48dols. per foot per month, being a little over 3 per cent, per month dividend. The Gould and Curry works at Washoe are perfect; they have cost nearly a million a lady can pass through their immense mill, where tons of quartz are converted into powder every hour, and not soil her dress. 4,000,000 dols., in bullion, have been taken out of this mine in the last twelve months, and 1,600,000 dols. paid in dividends to the stockholders. Many of them purchased early at about 400 dols. per foot, and received above 400 per cent. in dividends last year. The dividend is generally 150 dols. per foot per month. The stock sells readily at 4,900 dols. per foot. Of course, many people have become rich from the increased value of not only this stock, but many other good mines. There are, probably, 200 well-bred men leaning against lamp-posts, door-posts, smoking and idling | about town, who are receiving all the while_ from 1,000 J dols. to 20,000 dols. per month from their interests in f mines, and in most cases they are men who have been brought up to hard work, and have swung the heavy pick and shovel for weeks and months—jaffn who have moved in the humbler walks of life, and cgnsequently r are often miserable and wTetched. They*«on't know f how to spend their money. They know how to drink and smoke, but that is notfgenteel when carried to excess, and very few of them do it. The first indulgence is in good clothes, and they run astonishingly -to long- tailed coats, soft hats, and immense cigars. Those who have talent as well as money rise in the outside social scale. They get to be directors of insurance companies, trustees. and are called on often to subscribe to charities. The days of extravagance, when money was thrown around lager bier saloons by handfub are gone. San Francisco is probably the only city in the world where money does not give a man the entree into good society, and by the same token where poverty is no disgrace in fact, it is rather genteel to be poor here. What you term "shoddy" is here known as washoe," signifying about the same; and yet there is many a good, honest, worthy fellow here whose only crime is an income of 10,000 dols. a month. I know one of the sort who has bad the misfortune to fall heir to an income from a quartz mine of 12,000 dols. a month. I say" misfortune," because when he earnt a precarious subsistence he was jolly and happy. Now he is wretched, don't know what to do with his money or himself. He made this confession to me, and asked what he could do to pass his time more agreeably. I said, buy a good library, get a yacht, go fishing, shooting, get 17 dogs and a bully paft of trotters and enjoy every moment; travel, see the world, ¡ get a meerschaum, buy nice paintings, build a nige j house, furnish it handsomely, get a farm, raise your | own turnips, lay your own^ggs, &c. He only yawned, said he' ^didn't shoot, didn't nsh smoking made his head swim, sailiiw made him sea- sick, didn't like reading, c^ldn't tell an oil-painting from an engraving, hated a^arm, and dogs had fleas. I could only advise him Ho go and drown himself.