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that have had to be endured before a single item in that list could be produced, one would be apt to wonder that the madhouses are not as wide as Tophet; and yet nine-tenths of all this costly labour has been in vain, and comes under the compendious category of "inventions that did not answer."

But still these things are hidden from our eyes; for if there were no man to undertake, in hope, labour that appears profitless in the eyes of others, the world would soon come to a dead stand-still.

King Solomon was wearied for want of some business of his own to transact. He was a bystander in the game of life, for he had soon played himself out; and that accounts for the terrible sagacity with which he discerns the worthlessness of all that is done under the sun. Such a keen conviction of the intrinsic uselessness of all things is not healthy it is a wisdom not intended for us.

We look out of our window at the people passing along the streets, and sit idly in judgment on their personal appearance and general aspect, without in the least realising that they are, each and all, cherished and respectable totalities to their individual selves—that there is a personality in their very defects infinitely touching to the owners thereof. If the law of self-preservation were not implanted in the heart of each, it is to be feared very few of us would stand much chance of salvation if we got into danger.

Every man feels as if he were the sole person in the universe: the rest of the inhabitants have only a real existence in his eyes so far as they help or hinder him in his own path; and he has merely an historical belief in the personality of the men and women who do not come near him : himself and his own sensations are the only points he realises.

Take the most insignificant traveller who ever set foot on the deck of a steamer, and set him down in the heart of all the Russias : will he feel of less importance in his own eyes amongst the hundreds and thousands of strange beings who are gabbling their uncouth dialects, and leading their lives as best they may, than he did when in his own parlour, his feet cased in their worsted-work slippers, his coffee-pot steaming up its fragrance, his muffin overflowing with butter, and his well-trained wife down stairs to the moment to preside over the breakfast, and anxiously inquiring what he would like for dinner? No: never a bit of it. He is always the same man, and the impression people and things make upon him is the only idea he has of their intrinsic importance. If he write a book about what he has seen, HE will appear therein as the

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centre, whilst the rest of the world him.

passes like a panorama before

A man's sentiment for himself never fails.

One sometimes wonders that the world does not get out of patience with the folly and stupidity daily transacted upon it; and so, no doubt, it would (for the world is not altogether peopled by fools), but every man is patient and long-suffering towards his own share of folly. The virtue of mankind in that respect is certainly exemplary.

Everybody is, however, of importance for at least one period of It makes one their lives; and that is whilst they are BABIES. half sorry that people should grow up into hardened men and

women.

The man who was hanged the other day was once "the finest baby that ever was born ;" and it would be possible to trace back his career, step by step, and as the weight of every day, "that was cleared away, we should come brought its own evil with it, at last to the human nature that lay beneath the human heart that called our own brother.

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The most insignificant people-people for whom their neighbours feel profound contempt-have a soothing belief in a special providence, retained expressly to attend to their peculiar egotisms; it is lucky this source of comfort cannot fail, for if it were given to a man to see how very little his best friend identifies himself with his interests, he would never have the heart to live out half his days-it would be an unadulterated truth too much "above proof" for mortal senses to bear.

Nature is very good to all her children, for as half the hardships of the world are imaginary, she fences men round with an armour of hopes and delusions to keep them from being hurt, or, at least, to soften the pain. It behoves, then, every man to deal gently by the harmless vanities of his neighbour, seeing that he also is encompassed about with the same. There is nothing, so far as we can perceive, amongst the affairs of men, of sufficient importance to be of any intrinsic moment to the well-being of the universe; nothing that will materially influence its course. Let the world lay On the other hand, nothing can that to heart and grow modest! be considered a trifle that brings either joy or sorrow to the meanest individual; therefore, it would be well if each one of us, instead of thinking great things of ourselves, would be more We are all more tolerant and kindly-affectioned to each other.

NO. XVI.-VOL. III.

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nearly equal than we may be inclined to think. If we were to do. as the apostle recommended eighteen hundred years ago, the world would not be the least bit nearer the pit of destruction than it is now that the people in it are each heroes in their own esteem ; nay, it is possible that things might work more smoothly, and that there would occur fewer of "those cataracts and breaks" which, as it is, sometimes threaten to throw the "times out of joint." G. E. J.

"UNDER THE GREENWOOD TREE."

OUR HOST has spread beneath our tread
A 'broidered velvet woof;
Curtains of blue peep richly through
Our fretted palace-roof:

Well-spent, say I, in forestry,

Were all summer days like this;

Till wood-lamps shine and owl-watchmen cry
Through our green metropolis!

Like those that made in Arden shade,

Their happy court, of old,

Let us

"fleet our time " as in the prime

Of the innocent age of gold:

Each made wild mayor in turn as 'twere,

O'er "the forest burghers " here;

That will obey our gentle sway,

From love and not from fear.

For we will not take, for our pleasure's sake,
The life of bird or beast;

On herb and fruit, and wholesome root,

In guiltless state we 'll feast.

All wearing crowns, that bring no frowns,

Leaf-woven diadems;

And the jewels earth unmined gives forth,-
Her fragrant surface-gems.

O wood and stream! how fair a dream-
How vain a dream is this!

We owe our life to thoughtful strife,

With woe and wickedness:

Man must not spare to spell with care,

And work out God's intent,

And know! Thou wilt be charged with guilt,

Who art but innocent.

W. A.

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BALTIMORE SMITH.

A SKETCH FROM THE FLEET.

"THE fact is," said No. 5, folding his dingy-looking dressing gown over his knees, and reseating himself in the cane-bottomed elbow chair, opposite the attorney," the fact is, that without letting you into my early history, I cannot so well account for my being here. I shall however be as brief as possible, and as you say you have no other parties to meet this evening it will while away the time 'till nine o'clock," and Mr. Baltimore Smith, known in the parlance of the prison functionaries as No. 5, from the situation of the apartment he occupied, unburdened himself as follows:

"I first saw daylight in a small and dirty court in Little Barlow Street, where my father rented a cellar, and my mother took in washing and lodgers.-I have no recollection of the state (mental or physical) which we distinguish as childhood. As soon as I could speak, I ran on errands to the chandler's shop, and finding discount exacted of my miserable little body for every mistake of quantity or quality in the ha'p'orths and pennyworths for which I was sent, I found my mind charged with as much care and cunning at five years old, as a worldly man brought up under different circumstances is conscious of at fifty. If arrested by a game at chuck-farthing, or led to feast on the fresh pea-shells swept from the greengrocer's stall into the street— while I watched the one, or munched the other, I was busied in concocting some plausible story to account for or excuse my delay. I was always, in fact, what my father (who followed the profession of a costermonger) called a long-headed fellow; and soon discovered the necessity of assisting him in his efforts to keep that and the rest of my person covered-a work of some difficulty, owing to the increase of members, and competition in his trade. Accordingly, when my arms found sufficient strength to lift a measure of onions or a bunch of greens, I ran along by the side of my father's hand-truck, and between the pauses of his stentorian announcement of lilly white turnips!' echoed the

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cry in the shrillest tones of my little whistle voice. All would not do however. I was shoeless, hatless, and an old body-coat in which I was equipped,-the skirts of which descended to my heels, and prevented the necessity for every other garment, and in which I trod the earth looking like an overgrown crow in a pantomime—was moulting piecemeal, and threatened very shortly to make a full disclosure of my circumstances. In this dilemma the child' evinced itself the father of the man,' and my wits being sharpened by short commons and a north-east wind, (it was midwinter and the sale of vegetables very slow,) I resorted to the expedient of going to a school which an eccentric old lady had started in opposition to the clergyman of the parish, on condition that the children should wear an uniform, and be called the brown-coat-boys. Her plans had been so combatted, that even the limited number of coats she had provided were not all filled; and having washed my face for the occasion, and borrowed a suit of a neighbour's son, that no suspicions might be awakened as to my real object in desiring to be enrolled, I presented myself to her, unsupported by parents or friends, boldly relying on my native ingenuity for prevailing on her generous nature. I had not miscalculated my powers of address, and, penetrated by my desire to pluck the tree of knowledge, (in the hope of its leading to its antediluvian result,) the good old woman forthwith placed my name on her list of protégés, and I found myself master of a muffin-cap, corduroy trousers, a brown-coat, with a paucity of skirt, and two shirts with an amplitude of collar; besides warm stockings, and a substantial pair of highlows. What a fit-out for a boy who, as I before said, had never known the comfort of a whole suit! But in this transaction I had reckoned without mine host, and having attended school during the slack season in my father's line, I bolted as soon as business grew better, hoping, by giving a confirmed character to my upper garment-which now vacillated between a Prussian jacket and a coatee, in fact, by cutting off the suspicion of a skirt-the budding tail attached to it, to deceive the familiar eye of beadles and policemen; but, alas! though I kept out of the way for some time, taking up my residence at an old chum's in Somers'town, and meeting my father half-way from home, I was at last laid hold of by that extremity of my outward habiliment, where the amputation had taken place, and compelled to accompany No. 6 C division unwillingly to school.' But once more my powers of

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