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Morning Chronicle that in reading this evidence,

where he was more humanely treated. The hours Was that excessive working accompanied by excessive were about fourteen, excluding meals. The next beating ?--Yes ; very frequently they were beaten; children mill he went to was Trolick Mill, three miles from least fault, they were beaten excessively.

were not able to stand the work ; and if they had made the Dundee, where the hours of working were also

Did you ever hear of any one attempting to escape from fourteen, excluding meals; amounting altogether that mill ?-Yes ; there were two girls that made their exto about fifteen hours' confinement. The next cape from the mill through the roof of the house, and left place was Mayfield Mill, about four miles and a nearly all their clothes behind them. half from Dundee, where he was a spinner ; his No person, says the commentator on this evidence treatment there was harsh-sometimes the hours in the Chronicle, will have anything to do with any were sixteen:

of the unfortunate wretches so reared, for they are What effect upon the children-the female children more quite helpless. If the females, when grown up, especially_has this long standing to their labour any ef

are not ugly, they may find relief in prostitution. fect P-It has a great effect. I have observed it at the The flogging or strapping is continual, and when mill: the feet of the girls have swelled so, that they have it happens to be extreme, the overseer is fined : been ready to take off their shoes.

Does it occasion positive deformity sometimes ?-Yes, Did you know any individual brought to trial for invery often : the girls become in-knee'd and bow-legg'd. flicting the extreme punishment you have described ?-1

To a considerable extent ?-Yes, to a great extent. I heard of one ; there was an overlooker in Mr. Edwards's know one girl so bow-legg‘d that you could put a chair mill at West End, Dundee, who was brought before the between her legs.

Justice for licking a girl, and on being examined before the Has it at all affected you ?-Yes; I am very much Justice he was fined; but the master returned the fine back knock knee'd.

to the overlooker, and turned away this girl whom he had Have you seen one of the witnesses in waiting of the struck, and also her sister and two other sisters who were name of Openshaw, a boy?-Yes.

connected with her. Mr. Edwards was questioned about Is there any body that you have witnessed in your it in the Advertiser paper, and he refused to answer. The neighbourhood that is as strikingly deformed as he is ?-A only reply he made was, that he could do anything he great deal more so-one man that is working now at a mill liked with his own, though four or five suffered by that near Brechin, about twenty miles from Dundee, and who is transaction of taking the overseer to justice for that bad about thirty years of age. This man does not stand, with his usage. deformity, above four feet six inches high ; and, had he

This is not a tithe of the evidence. The sit. grown to his proper height, I think he would have been about five feet eight or nine. He has been in mills since he tings of the Committee occupied forty days; and was five years old, and he reduced to that state, that he though every body knows how the public busi. slides about on a stool to do his work ; and though he is ness is managed through the agency of these saunabout 30 years of age, he can now do no more than a girl's tering, lounging, dilatory, or, with reverence be work. The next mill was Strathmartin, distant only brought to light which make one ashamed of their

it spoken, humbug Committees, many facts were half a mile from the former. Fifteen hours, exclusive of meals, the time. But the overseers were cal men examined shows clearly how the manufac

age and their country. The evidence of the medijealous of their knowing the time:

After the overlooker found I was possessed of a wateh i turing system must ultimately, and indeed soon afhad lost the key, and he took the watch and broke it, and fect the whole population of the British isles. We gave it me back, and said I had no use for a watch, and hope we shall hear no more of those wire-drawn chastised me for letting the hands know the time of day. principles of political economy which seek to pre

Here the boys and girls all slept in one apart- vent interference, in a ment, with a small division, about four feet high, this. If the regulation of slave-labour, and the between them. After staying a year and a half education and protection of the Africans, are fitthere, he endeavoured to get some other employ- ting subjects of legislative interference, the state ment; but was forced to return back to Duntruin of the more helpless white slaves of the factories Mill as overlooker. There the system, since he is even more pressing. The negro holds over his had been away from it, was worse :At what time of the morning did you have to attend your the limited period of service of the white, of which

owner's humanity the bond of self-interest ; but labour there P-I have been called up by the master

, who the most must be made, as it is soon to terminate, stood at the door cursing and swearing, at three o'clock in the morning.

sets the master above this wholesome influence. How late in the night were you kept at that work – The whole system of our regulations is one of di. We were never less than till ten and eleven o'clock at rect interference with individuals. A man cannot night. Were the hands principally young ones at that mill?

make a bushel of malt, or sell an ounce of tobacYes; there was a great number of them below twelve. co, nor perform the simplest action, without being

Were they very poor ?—Yes, very poor; the poorest of liable to direct, and often to senseless and irritatWhere did they come from ? _Some from the poorhouses or restrained in his systematic torturing and op:

ing interference ; but he must not be interrupted in Edinburgh.

Were they sent young ?—Yes; they came at six and pressing, for his private gains, miserable and seven years old.

unprotected children, and leaving them depraved And they were sent for a stated length of time?-Yes. and dwarsed in mind and body, a burden and a

For a number of years ?_Yes; I know some that were curse to the community. It is well said by the engaged for three and four years.

Were those children worked as long as you have been stating ?-Yes.

one is almost tempted to wish that machinery; No exceptions in favour of the younger children and the and such places as Leeds and Manchester, had girls ?-Not in the least.

never been heard of.


so glaring as is

the poor.

THE BOURGEOIS OF PARIS-A SKETCH. hair curled. The marriage ceremony was splendid ; there It is amusing to compare the Parisiau Bourgeois, not was a gold cross, and crimson velvet chairs, purchased by quite a Badaud, with the Cockney citizen of London, or

the churchwardens at the sale of some fallen prince! There with his counterpart in Scotland, Bailie Jervie or Provost which was in those days through a large court-yard. Few

was likewise a grand dinner at Grignon's, the entrance to Pawkie. It is in this class that national distinctions are Sundays pass without the husband leading the conversation the most strongly marked: and yet differing so widely in to some reminiscences of this happy day, during which he important trifles, how closely they approach in every im- displays more than ordinary tenderness towards her whom portant particular. An Esquimaux or New Zealander The bourgeois of Paris respects his wife naturally, or rather

he congratulates himself every hour upon having married. could not perceive any difference.

instinctively; the most refined study could have taught “ The bourgeois of Paris is on the wrong side of forty. him nothing better. Before that age, he had lived under the control of his pa Certain gossips have asserted, that the wife of the bourrents; and this, together with the smallness of his income, geois was once a cocquet, and that finding years grow apace, the long servitude of his education and apprenticeship, his she had taken precautions not to attain old age without renoviciate in the ways of life, his constant exertions in his taining at least one tender recollection. But what matters business, and his daily apprehensions of being unsuccessful this to her husband ? If it be true, he is not aware of it. in his yet uncertain establishment, had prevented him from His life has not been troubled ; nothing in either his combefore acquiring that air of decision, that confidence in forts or his habits has been interfered with ; and he has himself, and that freedom of motion, so necessary to one never ceased for an instant to retail the old jests of the who assumes the rank of a master tradesman in the city. stage against duped husbands. When he comes home he Besides, a bourgeois of Paris must be a teller of good sto almost always finds his wife in the house. If he be someries :-it is a condition of his existence, a necessity, and times obliged to wait for her, she always returns loaded fortunately a pleasure to himself. He owes to his family, with purchases, among which there is generally something his friends, and his customers, an account of all that has for him. She pours out his barley-water when he has a occurred for at least thirty years past,—not only in his cold, and is silent whenever he speaks. More than all ova neighbourhood, but within those walls which encircle this,—not only is the wife of the bourgeois the mother of his bis universe, beyond which he sees only foreign countries. children, but his privy-counsellor in his business, his part. If he has nothing to say about the taking of the Bastile, ner, and his book-keeper. He does nothing without or the events of Fructidor, Thermidor, or Vendimiaire, he her advice, and she knows the names of his debtors and enjoys no power, elicits no respect; and as during that agi- of his correspondents. When he is in a merry cue he tation of business which divides his whole time with sleep, terms her his Minister of the Interior; and if he be the bourgeois of Paris cannot read much, he must trust to in doubt about the spelling of a word, he applies to her, what he has seen or heard, must store his head with facts for she is learned, having been educated at a boardingresulting from his emotions of each day, and lay in his school. stock of events whilst he is spending his years.

We now come to the children. I do not well know the The bourgeois of Paris is of moderate stature, and de name of his daughter ;-there are so many pretty names cidedly fat. His countenance is generally smiling, and he to be found in novels. She has just left boarding-school ; seems somewhat ambitious of dignity. His whiskers form she draws and plays upon the piano: in short, she has a slight curve, ending at the corner of his mouth. He is learned all that is necessary to forget when she marries, well shaved, and cleanly dressed. His clothes are large and and commences the same obscure and simple mode of life full, without any affectation of those forms which fashion as her mother. The son is called Emile, in honour to the borrows from caprice. Ignorant painters always put an memory of Jean-Jacques Rousseau. There are few fami. umbrella into his hand;- but this is a mistake suggested lies in Paris in which an Emile is not to be found, who by malevolence and party-spirit. The umbrella belongs to has been put out to nurse, led about afterwards by a maid, small annuitants and clerks in public offices; that is to and then sent for education to a school containing two say, to the imbeciles of the industrious world. The bour- hundred and nineteen other Emiles. The bourgeois' sou is geois of Paris carries a cane to give himself an air of con- gifted by nature, and has not been neglected. He has both sequence, to drive away dogs, and to chastise saucy boys. facility and intelligence, and is looked upon as likely, by But he fears not the weather. If it rains, he calls a coach, the prizes he will gain at the annual distribution, to do as he takes care to inform you beforehand. You must hear honour to the school to which he belongs. He is therefore a bourgeois of Paris say, “If it rain, I'll call a coach,” to caressed and made much of by his masters. All this inbe able to appreciate the satisfaction and security with creases the bourgeois' happiness. With joy and pride he which the improvement in public conveniences fills the contemplates the child of his love. He lets him talk, and heart of a man who is conscious that he can pay for them. admires the chattering of the infant pedant, whom he is

la spite of gibes and taunts, the bourgeois of Paris mar- proud of not being able to comprehend ; nor does he reried young, as his father and mother did before him. At sume his authority nntil the rash boy has thrown himself Paris, more than elsewhere, there always exist a swarm of into the arena of politics. The young dog has a penchant single men who systematically remain so from taste, reason, for republicanism, and secretly reads the journals of the constitution, and calculation ;-a species of Bedouins, who mouvement, just as we children of the Empire used to read wage war with conjugal happiness, exist by rapine, live in Pigault Lebrun's novels. The reign of Terror is, morenoise, and die in solitude. When young, they are agree-over, a fine opportunity for a display of paternal admoni. able dancers, dashing gamesters, hawkers of news and of tion. When the storm is blown over, Émile's prospects entertaining anecdotes, until they acquire the honour of are talked of. Since he is a clever boy, he must be a sworn exciting jealousy ;-when old, they are treated without appraiser ; but if this cleverness amount to positive talent, ceremony, and their greatest piece of good fortune is, now why then he must be an attorney ;-for each generation of and then at the house of an old friend, to sit at a side-table the bourgeoisie seeks to elevate itself one step higher, and between the two children, in order to avoid at the other that is the reason why the top of the ladder is so encumtable the fatal number of thirteen.

bered. I must now speak of the bourgeois' wife. She never was I have already hinted at the bourgeois' politics. In the first handsome, and her features want regularity; but every place, he loves order-he will have order—and he would body has agreed to call her pretty. The effect she produced put every thing out of place to obtain order. Order, as he upon the spectators, the day on which she got out of a understands it, is the easy and regular circulation in the glass coach before the door of St. Roch's Church, is by no streets, of carriages and foot-passengers ; the shops displayImeans forgotten. Her form was then more slender, buting their splendid riches on the outside, and the gas which she was not more blooming than at present : her husband, lights them in the evening, throwing the reflection of its on the other hand, was young, active, slim, and wore his light upon the pavement. "Give him these things,—and let

him not be stopped by any other groups than those which he has raised an impenetrable rampart round his conscience, surround ambulating musicians, or contemplate the last against which all friendly recommendations, and all the agonies of a dog just run over ;- let his ears not be assailed seductions of intrigue strike and rebound without injury. by unusual cries, by the dense clamour of a discontented He reads with attention the declaration of each candidate, mob;- let him not fear that a lamp will fall at his feet; takes notes for the purpose of comparing their sentiments -let him not hear the crash of breaking windows, the and promises; which notes he regularly indorset, and sinister noise of closing shutters, the retreat beaten at an places in a box by themselves. On the day of election be unusual hour, and the precipitons footsteps of horses—and retires to his closet, but without his wife, takes out these he is satisfied. Give him but this physical tranquillity, papers regularly one after another, and reads as follows: and you, who arrogate to yourselves the direction of public “ No. 1. M. PETER. Independent. Fortune honourably opinion-you, who wish to bring him to your way of acquired. Ardent zeal for public liberty. Love of order. thinking--you who want his rote at a public meeting, his Engages to accept no office to which a salary is attached signature to a petition, or his voice in a judgment-go all No. 2. M. Paul. Fortune honourably acquired. Independ. of you to him without fear; reason, attack, traduce, abuse; ent. Engages to accept no office to which a salary is attached. work boldly in overturning principles and slandering re Love of order. Ardent zeal for public liberty." And this putations :-he will bear all without anger ! If your period goes on to No. 13, which is the last, without any other be well rounded, he will adopt it; for he also plays the difference than change of expressions. The boargeois then orator. If your epigram he well pointed, he will repeat it goes to the preparatory meeting, and returns more in doubt at his own table ; for he is also fond of a bon-mot. If than ever upon whom he shall fix his choice ; for the claims you bring him news, he will bet against your word; for of each candidate, which he had considered so fully and he religiously believes in everything that is printed. There clearly made out, had there been terribly shaken. At is no fear of his detecting disorder in a black coat, whose length the day arrives, and he returns home satisfied; he wearer speaks loud, turns a period well, and affects a pen- has maintained his resolution to the last, and voted as. sivc air. The disorder which he fears, and against which cording to his conscience--for his vote was lost from being he would go into the streets with his musket and his knap- not sufficiently specific. sack, has naked arms, a hoarse voice, breaks open shops, The bourgeois of Paris is likewise a jury.nan;this is and throws stones at the municipal guard.

another act of his political religion. He prepares himself Then the bourgeois of Paris is tenacious of political li- for a due execution of these functions by reading the berty. It is his property, his personal conquest, and it be- Gazette des Tribunaux every day for a fortnight before longs to his creed. The three syllables forming this word he is to act. Then, behold him in the jury-box fronting bring a smile upon his lips, and throw an air of proud im- the prisoner. On the first day he suspects both the public portance over his whole person. If yon point out to him prosecutor and the president of the court. He leans upon any individual as not being desirous of freedom, he will his elbows, that he may not lose a word uttered by the reply, without hesitation, that such individual must be sent counsel for the defence. He takes compassion npon pickto prison. To preserve this precious right, there are no pockets, and acquits, at once, all those whom want has led difficulties, no privations, no sacrifices, to which he would to the commission of theft. Next day, he is less tendernot submit. Persuade him that liberty is in danger, and hearted-less easily moved. On the last day, he has behe will iminediately forego his dearest interests, quit his come a judge more inflexible and more severe than those simple and industrious mode of life, his business, and his who professionally occupy the judgment-seat, and whose family, and submit to'erery possible inconvenience, to guard souls are blunted by their daily contemplation of crime and house duties, and to all the severity of military discipline. suffering. On returning hoine at the end of the cession, Je will be the first to insist that the city gates be closed, he has a safety-bolt put upon his doors, and discharges his houses searched, and suspicious individuals apprehended. maid-servant. With regard to political offences

, however

, He knows that liberty cannot defend itself alone; that it his feelings are worked upon in an inverse ratio. At first requires the assistance of the police, the activity of a Judge he fancies society shaken to its very foundations by the of Instruction, and laws of exception which operate with party violence of a writer, or the temerity of a caricaturist

. promptitude and vigour, at a distance as well as near. He soon becomes accustomed to these things, and they then For the sake of liberty, he becomes a gendarine, a police afford him amusement; and, at the end of the session ho officer-anything, in short, but an informer. For, take carries home the libellous caricature to hang it in his din. notice, that he holds espionage in abhoi rence. In the ut- ing-room. most blindness of his zcal, he would let go a Jesuit to run The bourgeois of Paris is one of the national guard. after a mouchard.

There he stands, soul and body, under the uniform of the Amid the various revolutions which have so often changed soldier-citizen. 'But he is ambitious of rank.. He aspires the name of his street, the scarf of his municipal officer, not indeed to that of captain, which of right desolres upora the colours of the flag waving over the dome of the clock the notary of the neighbourhood ;=for a superstition in by which he regulates his watch, the postman's cockade, favour of notaries still exists in certain parts of Paris. and the armorial bearings over the snuff shops, he has re Still less does he elevate his views to the higher grades

. tained à respect for the constituted authorities. He is They belong to individuals whom the law excuses from therefore puzzled when the newspaper he takes in becomes ordinary service - to magistrates and deputies

. He is conhostile to the existing government; for he has a great tent to be sergeant-major, a rank which forms the just wl esteem for this journal, is one of its oldest subscribers, re- dium between command and obedience. The sergeantgularly takes to its office the amount of his patriotic con- major sleeps at home in his own bed, and this is a great tribution, and is addressed there by his name. The cena point gaived. Besides

, he finds a pleasure in seeing all his sure of government by this paper makes hím nneasy during neighbours, receiving their claims, granting ibem favours, the whole day. He thinks, however, that Ministers may knowing what excuses they send for non-service, and bant: have been deceived ; that the article in his favourite paper ing out those who are refractory. will open their eyes to the truth; and, in this hope; he sergeant-major ;-he is a person of importance ; and is begoes to sleep, reconciled to the administration, and to the sides one of the churchwardens of his parish. Prefect of Police, whồ will perhaps be dismissed the very In private life, the bourgeois of Paris is an active and in: next day,

telligent tradesman. He is not, it is true, a man of bright Tač bourgeois of Paris is an 'elector, and was so before parts, but he has sufficient intellect to show that he is no stance he always takes care to state. Whenever the Elec- Bourdeaux or Rouen. He is;;moreover, civil, punctual, toral College of his district is convened, he seems to have and of the most rigid honesty. He has some, spare time expression of pride and mistrust. He suspects every one fascinations which attract strangers to Paris. "A public who approarhe's him of a design upon his vote. But festival, in particular, has marvellous charmis for him. The

Do not laugh at the

most urgent business day, every domestie vexation, must christened. He even approves of his wife going to mass on give way to a review, a race, a splendid funeral, or a dis- Sundays. He considers it a good example; and if you press plaç of fire-works" He finds some attraction even in a re- him, he will tell you that religion is necessary to keep the ligious procession." The noise, the dust, the heat of the vulgar in awe. weather, the confusion, the blows of the soldiers, the ebb Were I to give current to my thoughts, I should never and flow of the crowd as it is driven backwards and for- have done with the bourgeois of Paris. But this is my last vardo all this is delightful;—it is a subject of conversation word. If you seek a specimen of an ardent mind,-young, and a source of pleasing recollections to the bourgeois of enthusiastic, impassioned, capable of great exertion in the Paris. And how dearly he loves to bestow a great name pursuit of virtue, or of daring courage in the practice of upon those individuals who pass on horseback with epau. crime; if you seek one of those boldly-drawn figures, lets and crosses. At the last procession, General Lafayette stamped with energy of character, which adorn historical passed before fifty bourgeois who knew him, and yet lie pictures of a high order, look for them elsewhere—any did not leave his house on that day. Among the multi- where but in a city of which Julius Cæsar has spoken, tude trho look upon these solcmnities, great personages are

which has so many revolutions to tell of, so many names multiplied by numerous copies: each of which some one engraved on its monuments one day, and effaced the next; has seen, and pointed out as the original, to his children, -resort not for such a purpose to a city where man is who, in their turn, will talk to their children of having stifled in a crowd, and worn down by constant friction. If seen the great man.

you require only a good, honest, simple, generous, confiding, The bourgeois of Paris also a lover of the fine arts. and hospitable creature, with one of those peaceable and He has had his portrait painted, which has, moreover, been smiling countenances which look well in a family picture, sent to the exhibition. Who does not recollect, in the ex take the bourgeois of Paris. You may safely trust him with hitrition of 1831, at the place where new pictures, enriched your fortune, your honour, or your secret; and inay dewith gothic frames, concealed the old works of Rubens, and pend upon him for a kind service, whenever it does not innext to the tigers of Delacroix, the portrait of a national terfere with his dinner-hour. Only I would advise you, if guard, with a flaxen wig, his cap a little on one side, with you call upon him the day after an insurrection, not to sit a laughing, jovial face, which seemed pleased at being down. painted? This was a bourgeois of Paris. Honour be to the artist; he did full justice to the character of the origi

WAGES IN ENGLAND IN THE FOURTEENTH nal. 'I would tear what I have written, could I but sub.

CENTURY. stitute a copy of this picture ; it would enable you to un In the year 1352, 25th of Edward III., wages paid to derstand the bourgeois of Paris at a single glance.

baymakers was but a ld. a-day. A mower of meadows 3d. Among the amusements of the burgeois, I must not forget per day, or 5d. an acre. Reapers of corn, in the first week the play, although it has lost much of its attractions in of August, 2d.—in the second, 4d. per day, and so on till his eyes since it aimed at producing emotions of a new kind, the end of August, without meat, drink, or other allowtoo strong for his sensibility if they are serious, and too ance, finding their own tools. For thrashing a quarter of monstrous for his reason to admit if they are only inven- wheat or rye, 24d. ; a quarter of barley, beans, pease, and cions" Do not expect to find him at the Italian Opera ; oats, 14d. A master carpenter, 3d. a-day, other carpenter, he never goes there, because he is determined, when he pays, 2d. per day. A master mason, 4d. per day; other masons, to understand what is sung. He passes with a sigh before 3d. per day ; and their servants, 1fd. per day. Tilers, 3d., the Theatre Français, like a man of the most refined taste and their knaves, 14d. Thatchers, 3d. per day, their knaves, and highly cultivated mind. If the Comic Opera were not 1fd. Plasterers, and other workers of mud walls, and 50 often shut up, it would be his favourite theatre. He their knaves, in the like manner, without meat or drink, goes there with his whole family four times a year, and and this from Easter to Michaelmas; and from that time from the present state of things, this may constitute him an less according to the direction of the justices. By the 34th almost regular frequenter of it. When it is closed, he core of Edward III., 1361, chief masters of carpenters and soles himself with vaudevilles. The plots of the latter are masons, 4d. a-day, and the others, 3d. or 2d. as they were not, he says, very first-rate, but then they make him worth. By the 13th of Richard II., 1389, the wages of a laugh, "and that is what he wants. The Gymnase alone bailiff of husbandry, 13s. 4d. per year, and his clothing once startles him a little.' The characters there are too rich; a-year at most ; the master had 10s. ; the carter, 10s. ; one might suppose that the revolution had not yet reached the shepherd, 108 ; 0x-herd, 6s. 8d. ; cow-herd, 6s. 8d. ; swineBoulevard Bonne-Nouvelle. You must not now talk to him herd, 6$. ; a woman labourer, 68. ; a day labourer, 6s. ; a of melodrames--formerly so noble, so pathetic, and so po- driver of plough, 7s. From this time up to the time of 23d pular, when tyrants wore the the knightly costume, with of Henry IV., the price of labour was fixed by the justices yellow boots and long beards, and spoke in a deep, hoarse by proclamation. In 1445, 23d of Henry IV., the wages ione-when there were abductions of princesses, and cap- of a bailiff of husbandry was 23:. 4d. per annum, and tive lords, and dungeons, and gaolers, and children, and mi-clothing of the price of 58., with meat and drink ; chief raculous rescues. The melodrame of the present day dis- hind, carter, or shepherd, 20s. ; clothing 4s. ; common sergusts him with its rags, it broad truths, and its slang. He vant of husbandry, 158. ; clothing, 3s. 4d. ; woman serleaves its enjoyments to delicate fine ladies, and to fishwo- rant, 108 ; clothing, 48, ; infant under fourteen years, 6s.'; men-to the low vulgar rabble, and to dandies.

Glothing, 38. Freemason or master carpenter, 4d. per day; His repugnance is not only one of taste, but it has a without meat or drink, 5d. Master tiler or slater, mason higher feeling; he is indignant at the immorality of the or mean carpenter, and other artificers concerned in buildthing. The bourgeois of Paris prides himself upon being ing, 3d. a-day, without meat and drink, 414; erery other a moral man, and this pretension constitutes one of his labourer, 2d a day; without meat or drink, 3 d. ; after titles, one of his identical peculiarities. By it he places Michaelmas to abate in proportion. In time of harvest, himself in comparison with his superior in rank and con. a mower 4d. a-day ; without meat and drink, 6d. ; reaper dition, and gives the preference to his own merits. When or carter, 3d. a-day ; without meat and drink, 5d. ; a wohe says, “I am a moral man," it is with the same feeling man labourer, and other labourers, 2d, a-day ; without of pride and self-esteem, that a noble would display in say- meat and drink, 4fd. per day. By the 11th of Henry VII., ing, " I am of high lineage,!'-or a banker, in saying, “I 1496, there was a like rate of wages, only with a little ad. am a rich man.”

vance ;-as, for instance, a freemason, master carpenter, Perhaps you will ask me whether the bourgeois of Paris rough mason, bricklayer, mast tiler, lumber, glazier, in y religioas man! What a silly question, when you carver, joiner, was allowed from Easter to Michaelmas, to know he was married in charch, and had his children take 4d. a-day; without meat and drink, 6d. ; from Mi.

chaelmas to Easter to abate ld. A master having under him A sad fatality seems to pursue this beautiful theatre. What with lave proceedings, bankruptcies and bademanagement, it can scarcely Henry VIII., 1515, the wages of shipwrights were fixed

six men, was allowed a ld. a-day extra. By the 8th of in

as follows :„A master ship-carpenter taking the charge of

CHURCHES FOR THE RICH. the work, having men under him, 5d. a-day in the summer The subjoined lines were sent us for publication shortly season, with meat and drink; other ship carpenter, called after an article appeared in the Schoolmaster, Number 14, a hewer, 4d, ; an able clincher, 3d. ; holder, 2d. ; master

They are written by a calker, 4d. ; a mean calker, 3d. ; a day labourer by the upon places of public worship. tide, 4d.

mechanic, who felt what is described, as he had come to town

from a rural parish :ON THE CULTIVATION OF HEMP.

The churches here, like palaces, WE spare our readers, or the few among them that can

With grandeur strike the eye ; be immediately interested in studying this su vject, any long But they are shut against the poor preface on the advantages of growing hemp, a crop suited

I need not tell you why. to pieces of ground which are generally fit for nothing else, and at once describe the process :—The soils most suited to

Pride, Pomp, and Luxury are there

To mar the solemn scene, the culture of this plant, are those of the deep, black, pu

Exclusive Fashion cannot bear trid, vegetable kind, which are low, and rather inclined to moisture; and those of a deep, mellow, loamy, sandy de

The vulgar, poor, and mean. scription. To render the land proper for the reception of

O Wordly Fashion, Wealth, and Pride! the crop, it should be reduced to a fine state of mould, and

Ye wield an iron rod, clear from weeds by repeated ploughings. In many instan

And drive your humbler brethren forth, ces, it will require to be dressed with well-rotted manure.

Even from the House of God! The quantity of seed sown per acre, is from two to three But Pride shall fall, and Wealth shall fly, bushels; but, as the crops are greatly injured by standing

And Fashion pass away; too closely together, two bushels, or at most two bushels and And high and low shall level meet, a-half, will be generally found sufficient. In the choice of

Some not far-distant day. seed, care should be taken that it is new, and of a good quali. Now spurned from Christian fellowship, ty, which is known by its feeling heavy in the hand, and be

I sometimes walk abroad, ing of a bright and shining colour. The best season for sow

And in the distant quiet fields, ing it in the southern districts is, as soon as possible, after

I praise and worship God. the frosts are over in April; and, in the more northern districts, towards the close of the same month, or beginning

Tho' sometimes down my care-worn cheeks

The burning tears will fall of May. The most general method of sowing it is broad.

Yet for my bless'd Redeemer's sake cast, and, afterwards, covering it by slight harrowing; but

I do forgive them all. when the crops are for seed, drilling it in rows, at small distances, may be advantageous. This sort of crop is fre

Misfortunes sad caused me to leave quently cultivated on the same piece of ground, for a great

The vale where I was born, number of years, without any other kind intervening;

And here, in poverty, I bear but, in snch cases, manure is required in pretty large pro

The rich man's haughty scorn. portions. It may be also sown after most sorts of grain. My memory oft doth backward glance, When hemp is sown broadcast, it in general requires no

To where, 'midst foliage green, after culture ; but, when it is drilled, a hoeing or two will The simple pastor's modest manse, be found advantageous. In the culture of this plant, it is

And parish kirk were seen. particularly necessary that the same piece of land should A pastor's name he well deserved, contain both male and female, of what is sometimes called

The Father of his flock : frimble hemp ; the latter contains the seed. When the crop The sad he cheer'd, the poor reliev'd, is ripe, which is known by its becoming of a whitish yel

From out his slender stock. low colour, and a few of the leaves beginning to drop from

Your parsons here the stems, which happens generally in about thirteen or fourteen weeks from the period of its being sown, it must be pulled up by the roots, in small parcels at a time, by the

Sometimes some fashionable church hand, taking care to shake off the mould well from them

I enter, as by stealth, before the handfuls are laid down. In some districts, the

And stand afar off, lest my rags whole crop is pulled together; while in others, which is the

Defile the garb of wealth. best practice, the crop is pulled at different times, accord

I hear_but cannot comprehend, ing to its ripeness. When, however, it is intended for seed,

That which should simple be :it should be suffered to stand till it is perfectly ripe. After Your pompous parson's fine discourse the hemp is pulled, it should be set up in small parcels;

Is far too high for me. and, if for seed, the bundles should be tied up in the same With learned phrase he but makes dark manner as corn, till the seed becomes dry and firm ; it must

The word that is divine: then be either thrashed on cloths in the field, or taken home For Truth needs no embellishment to the barn. The after management of hemp varies greatly

To make it brighter shine. in different places ; some only dew-ripen or ret it, whilst Your frothy, flowery eloquence, others water-ret it. The last process is the best and most

No good it doth impart ;expeditious; for, by such process, the grassing is not only

The sermon, earnest, solemn, plain, shortened, but the more expensive ones of breaking, scratch

Sinks deepest in the heart. ing, and bleaching the yarn, are rendered less violent and troublesome. After having undergone these different oper

Leave off your haughty arrogance,

Ye scorners of the poor :ations, it is ready for the purposes of the manufacturer. The produce of hemp-crops is extremely variable—the ave.

God's Word should be preached free to all, rage is, generally, about five hundred-weight per acre.

And open'd each church door. Hemp, from growing to a great height, and being very CONSUMPTION OF GAS IN LONDON.—The gas which shady in the leaf, leaves land in a very clean condition; lights London is calculated to consume 38,000 chaldrons of hence it is sometimes sown for the purpose of destroying coals per annum, lighting 62,000 lamps in shops, horses weeds, and is an excellent preparation for wheat crops. &c., and 7500 street lamps. In 1830, the gas pipes in and A PRODIGY in Paper.--At the White Hall Mill, in Derby- lights of half an inch in diameter, supply a light.equal on

round London were above 1000 miles in length. Gas shire, a sheet of paper was manufactured last year, which meaFured 19,800 feet in length, four feet in width, and would cover

20 candles ; of one inch in diameter, equal to 100; two inan acre and a half of ground.

ches, 420; three inches, to 1000.

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