THE mob, the rabble, the ignoble vulgar, the people, the masses, the third estate, are all terms graduating from the lowest estimate up to something of consideration. They are terms which have been used in all ages, generally significant of contempt or inferiority, for with such feelings have the few in all times been accustomed to look down upon the many. In these times, however, the masses have acquired power,-they are pushing themselves into notice, and from being the third estate, they bid fair to become the second, or first. With their growing power they have also demanded attention. No man high in office now, -no statesman, judge on the bench, or magistrate in his chair, would use such expressions as were common on some remarkable occasions in former times. The great gulf between the two is somewhat broken. A distant dignity and reserve on the one hand-a fawning submission, or surly and rancorous defiance on the other, are equally laid aside, and man meets man upon somewhat more advantageous terms,—that of a mutual wish to regard each other as beings of the same species. Yet still how little does one half of the world know or care about the other. In our crowded cities how total is the separation between one class of men and the other. While in a low and obscure alley the notorious Burke was committing unheard-of crimes, which made all Europe shudder with horror and astonishment, at a few yards distance men were going about their ordinary employments,-within a few hundred paces the courts of justice were sitting in solemn deliberation, and around, the gay and fashionable were flitting in ever-joyous maze. If we take one of those high domiciles, or lands, for which the northern metropolis is conspicuous, it will form even now, but would have done so better in past times, an epitome of the world. In the middle and lower stories live the families of industry, sobriety, and of comfortable and social domestic virtues-in the garrets above live the sons of dull penury, and hopeless and long-protracted poverty-while below are the dens of drunkenness, squalid misery, and every species of hardened wickedness. How many thousands of the gay and opulent walk or drive out every day -how many glide through the crowded streets, intent on business or pleasure, and day after day return home, ignorant that a thousand sighs of misery have breathed across their paths, or that they have been in the immediate neighbourhood of the abodes of vice and misery, more frightful than the dens of the tiger or hyena.

But such things cannot be long hid. The spots of misery, when scattered over a wide space, may escape detection; but when an overflowing population, such as that of Britain, accumulates-when the great mass of the people, driven as it were THE TORCH, NO. IX.

from the country for want of employment, and for want of sustenance, are forced into our huge and overgrown cities, then the magnified evils become apparent, and some remedial means is forced upon the consideration of the community. However selfishly we may resist the fact, yet there can be no doubt that the poor, the ignorant, and even the vicious, are the children of the community; and as children they should be treated-not spurned, or neglected, or persecuted, or starved, through selfish niggardliness, but educated, protected, encouraged, fed, and wiled by the gentlest means from their erroneous courses, or, if irreclaimable, guarded and prohibited either from injuring themselves, or society around them.

We have said that the masses are beginning to demand something of this kind for themselves now; and how is this demand responded to? In some quarters the idea of bringing back the "good old times" is prevalent. In fancy they call up the merry Christmas gambols-the plum-puddings, the roasted beeves, the tankards of ale, the games of bowls and skittles; and say, or even sing in sundry songs, O! if we had but the good old days again, when the jolly-faced, laughing peasantry ate, and drank, and danced, and sang, obedient, submissive, and happy!

"Vain wish, those times were never,-airy dreams
Sat for the picture, and the poet's hand,

Imparting substance to an empty shade,
Imposed a gay delirium for a truth."

No, no; any man who coolly and calmly investigates into the true condition of former times, will find that all this is mere foolery. There never was a time in which the average mass of the people were better fed, or more regularly fed, than the present; or, at all events, a time in which the means of good feeding are within the reach of all the able-bodied, the industrious, and the prudent. Not but that there are great, and oftentimes much poverty, and suspension of a demand for labour; but such has been in all times, and in the good old times too, when thousands of beggars wandered over the country, besieged the gates of monasteries, and felt themselves happy if they got a crust to eat, or a bone to gnaw. No, no,-the mere feeding of the masses, like so many stalled oxen, will not do. We hear so much of puddings, and joints, and cans of ale, and brown stout, from sentimental writers, daily, weekly, and monthly, that one would think such fare was the very essence of all good-the long-sought elixir of moral virtue and happiness. Far be it from us to think that a starving man, ragged, and shivering in the breeze, and with an empty stomach, can in the first place be effectually addressed or cheered but through the medium of the starved sensations; but there is something more than addressing the animal sensations,-than even cultivating the intellect and the FEB. 28, 1846.

taste, there must be a gaining of the heart also, before the seeds of moral rectitude will spring up and flourish.

We have glanced at the scenes of vice which may be, and in reality are, enacting every day and every night within a few yards of the homes of domestic peace and propriety; we could also sketch some of those intellectual dens, if they may so be called, where delusive ideas for the mind are regularly doled out day after day, in all the various forms of cheap pamphlet or volumewhere vice in all its tortuous forms is so gilded up as to look like virtue and heroism, and where the most delusive doctrines, and the most self-sufficient dogmas, are presented to evoke the supremacy of reason. Some years ago, in one of our largest manufacturing towns, an individual happened to go into one of those emporiums to make a small purchase. It was a Saturday night, and a crowd of working men and women were there, for the purpose of making purchases from among the innumerable bales of infidel pamphlets which were piled around, when a person entering, derisively called out, "What shall I do to be saved?" Some one, in a similar tone, immediately responded, "Believe in Christ Jesus," &c., which was the signal of a universal burst of laughter from the sympathizing audience! We might also here paint the low theatrical establishments, and the kind of fare there presented to the young and imitative intellect, but there could be little practical benefit in dwelling on such themes as these; we shall rather turn to what is doing at the present time in some of the lowest haunts of poverty and ignorance in our immediate neighbourhood, and test the utility of these doings with the many sayings which we have alluded to above. While some put their whole hope of the regeneration of the lowest classes in legislative measures, in liberal grants of money, and other means originating from a central government, others, again, place their chief reliance on the aroused and well-directed energies of the people theinselves. Of this latter class is Dr Chalmers.

I think, says he, that a great and radical error in the management of our population has just proceeded from the idea that they are utterly helpless, and unable to do anything for themselves. I believe that if you proceed rightly, it will be found that they are able to do a great deal for themselves, and that unless you enlist their co-operation, you will never achieve anything like a permanent good for them. I know that there is a difference of opinion on this point; and I have to encounter a good deal of sentimentality on the subject. There has been a little internal controversy among ourselves, but I stand up most inflexibly on the subject of fees, and think these persons ought to pay fees for the education of their children. Acting, accordingly, on the principle, we exact 2d. a-week from the people in the West Port for the education of their children; and I think I have pretty well convinced the people there that it is a good thing and a right thing to

* Churches and Schools for the Working Classes. An Address by the Rev. Dr Chalmers. 1816.

have fees. I think that by the principle of doing all the good for them, you do a partial and ephemeral good. I might enlist, perhaps, a sufficiently effective body of auxiliaries to give me annual subscriptions to pay a salary for the schoolmaster, as also to defray the whole expense of the architectural apparatus, including both a church and school. I might be able, I say, to do all that; and yet I would not be able to ensure their continuance. No doubt the church and the schools would stand for a century; but I would not be able to ensure their continuance for years, not having the means to defray the whole maintenance of the schoolmaster and of the minister, or the current annual expenses of the concern. Accordingly, I am most anxious to enlist the people in the cause, that they may take a share in the matter, and calling upon them to assist by their weekly payments is the very means calculated to effect that end, and by so doing you effect a permanent good on the part of the population.

There was enthusiasm, and a most beneficial enthusiasm it was,-among the higher classes on the side of Lancasterian education twenty-five years ago; and very handsome subscriptions were obtained, which enabled us to build a large fabric, which, you are aware, is at present under the superintendence of Mr Dun; and in a conversation I had ten days ago with Mr Dun, the intelligent master of that seminary, he told me that just now it was attended by 700 scholars. Now suppose we had succumbed to the whining sentimentality that the people were too poor to pay, and that they could do nothing to help themselves, the school would have dwindled down to nothing. At this school 2d. a-week is paid by nearly all the scholars, and it is now attended by 700 scholars. Now, this 2d. a-week amounts to 8s. a-year; and 700 scholars at 2d. a-week realizes L.280 a-year. Very well, while the higher classes raised the fabric, the continuance of the school was ensured by the weekly payments of the general population; and it was much better to see an interest created in behalf of education among the families around that fabric, which interest exists to the extent of no less than L.280 a-year, than if the continuance of the school hinged on the support it should receive from the wealthier classes. The people are not the worse of being told of what we expect from them, and it is but right that they should be told to a certain extent of their own importance.

I have the pleasure of announcing the gratifying fact, that our day-school is now attended by no fewer than 250 scholars,-and those chiefly local, -the West Port has the preference.

This system of general schooling and churching is a system which, I admit, has conferred the highest educational and spiritual benefits on one or two of the uppermost strata of society; but in consequence of the lower having been overlooked and neglected, a smouldering fire is now gathering at the bottom of the commonwealth, which, if not met and counteracted, will explode and upheave all the institutions of the country. Go, therefore, to the Grassmarket, we say, and get down to the bottom of the pool there,-go to the very humblest of society, and let me see the Christian Church performing its functions, and letting down its services to the veriest beggars and blackguards of the community.

I ought to state, that we have a girls' school as well as a boys' school, and that the girls are taught not only sewing and knitting, but likewise washing, which I regard as a most useful branch of

population. I was most anxious to ascertain to what extent the peculiarly enlightened and philosophical views, long since expounded by Dr Chalmers, and to some extent exemplified in operation by him in some of the poorest districts of the city, had been acted upon, and to test their soundness and practical wisdom by an examination of the results of actual experiments. To the description of some of these experiments I shall devote a few pages of this report; and, from the narrative, I hope it will appear, that, by a sufficient multiplication of similar efforts, the social, as well as the moral and religious, condition of these classes of the community might, even in the course of a single generation, be greatly elevated and improved.

"Perhaps the fullest and most satisfactory illustration of the practicability of this may be found in a detailed narrative of the efforts made by a few earnest and philanthropic individuals in the suburban and manufacturing districts of Woodside. Before the commencement of their labours, a few years ago, there were, in the immediate neighbourhood, and among a population consisting almost wholly of poor operatives and their families, no means either of secular or religious instruction. The parents were living in the deepest moral debasement, and the children were growing up in ignorance of every social and religious duty. To prevent the perpetuation of this state of matters, several gentlemen, residing in the neighbourhood, or having an interest in the district, began with earnestness and Christian zeal the task of providing educational means suited to the whole population. Week-day and Sabbath schools were established for the children, and all the processes of a home mission were simultaneously brought to bear upon the parents. Acting on the principle so earnestly and eloquently expounded by Dr Chal

mers, and denominated by him the influence of locality in large towns,' each member of the association undertook to visit, regularly and at stated intervals, so many of the families resident in the district, and to endeavour, by friendly intercourse with the parents, and affectionate interest in the education and general welfare of the children, to bring all under his personal and moral influence. A missionary, too, was appointed to labour constantly among them, to carry to each household the lessons of Christianity, and at stated times to assemble in the school-room, and address in formal discourse all who had come under their humanizing power.

"The contrast between the present condition of this district and its state only a few years ago is very striking. There then existed, as I have said before, no valuable means of instruction, either secular or religious. Very many of the adult population had never enjoyed the opportunity of acquiring even the ordinary branches of reading and writing. They were living in the habitual neglect of religious ordinances; and of religious truth they were in general profoundly ignorant. Their disregard for the former was so complete, that, four years ago, only seven persons could be brought to attend a meeting held for the celebration of Divine worship; and their aversion to the lessons of Christianity was so rooted and so deep, that, in the course of sixteen months, four missionaries abandoned in despair the task of reclaiming them from their sordid tastes, and the depraved habits by which they were characterized. The members of the association, however, hopeful and undiscouraged, persevered, and now these ordinances are regarded by numbers with becoming reverence, and waited upon with all diligence; these lessons are listened to with attentive gladness, and are productive of their own peaceable fruits."

THE numerous groups of islands scattered over the great Pacific Ocean, which is calculated to occupy about one-third of the globe, contain a highly interesting people, who, being similar in habits, language, and, in all probability, descent, are classed under the general denomination of Polynesians. This vast ocean, studded with its numerous islands, was first visited by Europeans in the fifteenth century. During that and the succeeding century, several Dutch, Spanish, and English navigators explored this region, and in particular Captain Cook, towards the close of the eighteenth century, visited many of the groups of islands, and made known to the public the habits and customs of the islanders. Much interest was doubtless excited on both sides-on the part of the navigators, in their coming upon a new and hitherto unknown race of human beings; and no less on the part of the islanders, who had never seen such strangers before, and knew not whether they were men like themselves, or gods descended from superior regions to become their guests. These islands are very numerous, varying in size from mere points, or detached rocks, to islands of fifty miles in length. They are irregularly scattered over the ocean, sometimes clustered together, while not unfrequently single islands are found at the distance of many hundred miles from any other land. They are chiefly of basaltic formation, with occasionally granite, and not a few almost entirely encrusted

with the coral zoophytes, a minute polype, whose successive myriads have, in the course of ages, raised up considerable elevations upon the rocky summits of extinct and submerged volcanoes.* The climate, though extending over the torrid zone, is mild and salubrious, from the great extent of surrounding ocean, compared to the small and interrupted surface of the land. The scenery is beautiful, and the soil adapted for all kinds of fruits and vegetables common to a tropical situation. The number of quadrupeds or other animals is, as in all remote insular situations, extremely limited. The natives, when first discovered, were entirely in a savage state, though not in the most degraded degree of that condition. They knew something of the cultivation of the soil, had tolerable houses, exercised themselves in fishing, and had loose flowing robes, manufactured from the fibres of the bark of trees. Mr Ellis thus describes the general features of the Polynesians:-The islands of the Pacific are inhabited by two tribes of men, totally distinct, and in some respects entirely different from each other. The most ancient tribe is composed of what are designated Oceanic negroes, who are distinguished by the darkness of the skin, smallness of stature, and particularly by their black, woolly, or crisped hair. The other tribe exhibits many of the distinguishing features which belong to the Malays. The negro

* C. Darwin.

race more properly belong to Australasia, as by them New Holland, New Guinea, New Britain, New Caledonia, and the New Hebrides, are peopled; while, on one of the islands still farther to the westward, both tribes take up their abode, and yet remain distinct-the Oceanic negroes dwelling in the interior and among the mountain fastnesses, while those of a fairer complexion form their settlements along the shore. In the vicinity of the Friendly Islands they appear to be blended. The greater part of Polynesia seems to be inhabited by those who present in their physical character many points of resemblance to the Malays and South Americans, but yet differ materiaily from either, and appear to form an intermediate race. Although, with very few exceptions, all the inhabitants of those islands to which the designation of Polynesia is given, exhibit the leading marks of the tribe to which they belong, the people of each cluster are distinguished by some minor particulars. The following description refers to the inhabitants of the Georgian, Society, and adjacent islands, which, for the sake of brevity, are designated Tahitians, or Society Islanders. The Tahitians are generally above the middle stature, but their limbs are less muscular and firm than those of the Sandwich Islanders, whom in many respects they resemble. They are at the same time more robust than the Marquesans, who are the most light and agile of the inhabitants of Eastern Polynesia. In size and physical power they are inferior to the New Zealanders, and probably resemble in person the Friendly Islanders as much as any others in the Pacific, exhibiting, however, neither the gravity of the latter, nor the vivacity of the Marquesans. Their limbs are well formed, and although, when corpulency prevails, there is a degree of sluggishness, they are generally active in their movements, graceful and stately in their gait, and perfectly unembarrassed in their address. Among the many models of perfection in the human figure that appear in the islands, instances of deformity are now not unfrequent, in consequence of diseases introduced by Europeans, and which were altogether unknown to the race formerly. The countenance of the Society Islander is open and prepossessing, though the features are bold, and sometimes prominent. The features of the face form the same straight line with the forehead as in Europeans, except in those cases where the front and back bones of the skull are flattened or pressed together in infancy. This was frequently done by the mother with the male children, when they were designed for warriors. The forehead is sometimes low, but not unfrequently high and finely formed-the eye-brows are dark and well-defined, occasionally arched, but more generally straight-the eyes are seldom large, but bright and full, and of a jet black colour-the cheek bones not high-the nose either rectilinear or aquiline, often accompanied with a fulness about the nostrils. It is seldom flat, notwithstanding it was formerly the practice of the mothers and nurses to press the nostrils of the female children, a flat and broad nose being by many regarded as handsome. The mouth in general is wellformed, though the lips are sometimes large, yet never so much so as to resemble those of the African. The teeth are good, and always entire, except in extreme old age, and though rather large in some, are remarkably

white. The ears are large, and the chin retreating or projecting, most generally inclining to the latter. The form of the face is either round or oval, and but very seldom exhibits any resemblance to the angular form of the Tartar visage, while their profile bears a most striking resemblance to that of the European. Their hair is a shining black or dark brown colour, straight but not lank and wiry like that of the American Indian; nor, excepting in a few solitary instances, woolly like. that of the New Guinea, or New Holland negroes. Frequently it is soft and curly, though seldom so fine as that of the civilized nations inhabiting the temperate. zones. Mr Anderson* saw a man in Otahia who had. perfectly red hair, a fairer complexion than the rest, and was spreckled all over with freckles. The females: are smaller in stature, and more delicately formed than the males, but on the whole are more robust than the. females of England. A roundness and fulness of figure, without extending to corpulency, distinguishes the people in general, particularly the females. The chiefs: and persons of hereditary rank are superior in bodily structure, and dignified deportment, to the common people, arising most probably from superior food, and exemption from menial duties. The prevailing colour of the natives is an olive, a bronze, or a reddish brown, equally removed from the jet black of the African and the Asiatic, the yellow of the Malay, and the red or copper colour of the aboriginal American, frequently presenting a kind of medium between the two latter colours. Considerable variety, nevertheless, prevails in. the complexion of the population of the same island, and: as great a diversity among the inhabitants of the Georgian group. It is not, however, a blacker hue that their skin presents, but a darker red or brown. Many are not darker than the inhabitants of some parts of southern Europe. At birth, the infant is but little darker than European children, and the skin only assumes the bronze or brown hue as they grow up. Those parts of the body that are most covered, even with their loose draperies of native cloth, are through every period of life much lighter coloured than those that are exposed; and notwithstanding the dark tint with which the climate appears to dye their skin, the ruddy bloom of health and vigour, or the sudden blush, is often seen mantling the youthful countenance under the light brown tinge, which, like a thin veil, but partially conceals its glowing hue. The females, who are much employed in beating. cloth, making mats, or other occupations followed under shelter, are usually fairer than the rest; while the fishermen, who are most exposed to the sun, are invariably the darkest portion of the population.

Darkness of colour was originally considered as an. indication of strength, and fairness of complexion the, contrary. Hence the men were not solicitous, either to cover their persons, or avoid the sun's rays, from any apprehension of the effect it would produce on the skin. They looked on the European complexion, when faint, as the effects of disease, and beheld it with pity, probably associating it with the leprosy, which turns the skin. white; nor has this impression been altogether removed. by lengthened intercourse with Europeans. The mental capacity of the Society Islanders has been hitherto much

Cooke's Voyages.