flickering light of life; the face wore the same hue of resignation; the pale lips were slightly parted, but they had breathed out the last sigh of mortality. The anguish of Catherine on this melancholy occasion was almost overpowering. Her gentle and amiable spirit had been taught to regard all mankind as her kindred and the objects of her love; and the trials and sufferings which the deceased had endured constrained her to lament over the depravity of the human heart, while at the same time she felt for Agnes as if she had been a sister. When the last duties which mortality claims had been discharged, Catherine, actuated by a desire to know more of the unfortunate Agnes, determined to write to Sir Henry, rightly judging that the circumstance of the visit to E- argued that he had some knowledge of the deceased. Scarcely, however, had her determination been carried into effect, when her brother rushed into the apartment with the alarming intelligence that Sir Henry Bevil had been dangerously wounded in a duel. Actuated probably by a desire to see the object of his love, the young baronet had two days previous repaired to London, encountered some of his old associates, and had been drawn by them to the gaming table, the too frequent resort of his early years. He had lost, quarrelled, and, on the following morning, fought with his opponent. A brother officer of Mary's brother had been his second, and by him the result of the duel had been communicated. HOOD, CARLYLE, AND WAKLEY, ON THE Copyright Act of 1839 was fruitful of much interesting discussion, and having accidentally fallen in with some documents connected with it, we append them hereto, and trust that they will find their way into the pages of some future D'Israeli. They consist of petitions from Mr Hood and Mr Carlyle, both strikingly characteristic of the respective writers; and a speech delivered in the House of Commons by Mr Wakley. So far as the sale in England of the works of English authors is concerned, the bill has worked well, but as yet no international copyright has been established so that British authors may be remunerated for the sale of their works in foreign countries, and vice versa foreign authors be compensated for the sale of their writings in this country. Sir Robert Peel has hinted that it is likely that a negotiation will be entered into with France, and we should be glad to see it consummated. MR HOOD'S PETITION. To the Honourable the Commons in Parliament assembled, The Humble Petition of the undersigned Thomas Hood, Showeth, That your petitioner is the proprietor of certain copyrights, which the law treats as copyhold, and which in justice and equity should be his freeholds. He cannot conceive how Hood's Own, without a change in the title, can become Everybody's Own hereafter. That your petitioner may burn or publish his manuscripts at his own option, and enjoy a right in and control over his own productions, which no press, now or hereafter, can justly press out of him. That as a landed proprietor does not lose his right to his estate in perpetuity by throwing open his grounds for the convenience or gratification of the public, neither ought the property of an author in his own works to be taken from him until all Parks become Commons. On this occasion the conduct of Catherine N fully exemplified the truth that love is all enduring. With a firmness which her habitual gentleness little warranted, she determined to visit the wounded duellist, and, in company with her brother, repaired to the place where he lay. The meeting of those who, but a short time ago, parted in health and happiness was touching in the extreme. But the feelings of Catherine could not overcome her firmness and benevolence, and, with the care of one whom experience has taught the duties of the sick-room, she tended her lover with faithfulness and assiduity. But the period of mortal help had passed. His quickly changing countenance and his agonizing starts and groans were the too apparent harbingers of death. At the earnest solicitation of the dying man, Catherine was left alone with him, while, with accents portentous of dissolution, he implored her to forgive a wretch who had sought her love in return for his own, which ought to have been given to another. With the most fearful forebodings, Catherine conjured him to tell what he knew of the unfortunate Agnes; and, to fill up the measure of her misery, he answered that she was indeed his rightful, injured wife. Ignorant of the death of her who had been the victim of his cruelty, he implored Catherine to seek for her, and, with the tenderness which was the spirit of her life, mitigate the woe into which he had plunged her. Catherine, in the gentleness of a forgiving spirit, sought to break the tidings of her death in a manner That cheap bread is as desirable and necessary as fitted to soothe his mental agony. But the attempt was made in vain. He started up in his bed, and in inco-cheap books, but it hath not yet been thought just or herent speech, which betokened the overthrow of reason, all corn fields shall become public property. expedient to ordain that, after a certain number of crops, poured forth imprecations on himself. The attendants, alarmed at the vehemence of his voice, returned, and found the unhappy man a raving maniac, and Catherine insensible to what was passing around her. Our narrative is soon told. Sir Henry Bevil died that night, and on the morrow Catherine N- returned to the parson age of E―, accompanied by her brother. But a change had come over her; the bloom of health and the smile of joy had passed from her countenance, which now wore the pallid shade of an almost changeless melancholy. Although her visits of benevolence were still continued, her rambles in the woods, and her once loved pursuits engaged her no longer. A few months passed, and in the peace of a Christian's death, in the spring tide of her life, died Catherine N. Deep and solemn was the sorrow felt by all the villagers of E- as they stood around her early grave, and one short year had scarce completed its cycle when the good pastor himself was taken from a world in which he had felt a blank since his daughter's departure. His mortal remains were laid in the same grave. They were lovely in their lives, and in their deaths they were not divided. That your petitioner, having sundry snug little estates in view, would not object, after a term, to contribute his private share to a general scramble, provided the Landed and Monied Interest, as well as the Literary Interest, were thrown into the heap; but that, in the meantime, the fruits of his brain ought no more to be cast amongst the public than a Christian woman's apples or a Jewess's oranges. That whereas, in other cases, long possession is held to affirm a right to property, it is inconsistent and unjust that a mere lapse of twenty-eight, or any other term of years, should deprive an author at once of principal and interest in his own Literary Fund. To be robbed by Time is a very sorry encouragement to write for Futurity. That a work which endures for many years must be of a sterling character, and ought to become national property-but at the expense of the public, or at the expense save that of the author or his descendants. It must be an ungrateful generation, that, in its love for cheap copies, can lose all regard for "the dear Original." That whereas your petitioner has sold sundry of his copyrights to certain publishers for a sum of money, he does not see how the public, which is only a larger firm, can justly acquire even a share in a copyright, except by similar means, namely, by purchase or assignment. That the public, having constituted itself by law the executor and legatee of the author, ought, in justice, and according to the practice in other cases, to take to his debts as well as to his literary assets. That when your petitioner shall be dead and buried he might, with as much propriety and decency, have his body snatched as his literary remains. That by the present law, the "wisest, virtuousest, descreetest, best," of authors is tardily rewarded, precisely as a vicious, seditious, or blasphemous writer is summarily punished, namely, by the forfeiture of his copyright. That in case of any infringement on his copyright, your petitioner cannot conscientiously or comfortably apply for redress to the law, whilst it sanctions universal piracy hereafter. That your petitioner hath two children, who look up to him, not only as the author of the Comic Annual, but as the author of their being. That the effect of the law as regards an author is virtually to disinherit his next-of-kin, and cut him off with a book instead of a shilling. That your petitioner cannot discover himself to have done unlawfully in this his said labour of writing books, or to have become criminal, or have forfeited the law's protection thereby. Contrariwise your petition or believes firmly that he is innocent in said labour; that if he be found in the long-run to have written a genuine enduring book, his merit therein, and desert towards England and English and other men, will be considerable, not easily estimable in money; that on the other hand, if his book prove false and ephemeral, he and it will be abolished and forgotten, and no harm done. That, in this manner, your petitioner plays no unfair game against the world; his stake being life itself, so to speak (for the penalty is death by starvation), and the world's stake nothing till once it see the dice thrown; so that in any case the world cannot lose. That in the happy and long-doubtful event of the That your petitioner is very willing to write for Poste-game's going in his favour, your petitioner submits that rity on the lowest terms, and would not object to the long the small winnings thereof do belong to him or his, and credit, but that when his heir shall apply for payment to that no other mortal has justly either part or lot in them Posterity, he will be referred back to Antiquity. at all, now, henceforth, or for ever. That as a man's hairs belong to his head, so his head should belong to his heirs; whereas on the contrary, your petitioner hath ascertained, by a nice calculation, that one of his principal copyrights will expire on the same day that his only son should come of age. The very law of nature protests against an unnatural enactment which compels an author to write for everybody's Posterityexcept his own. Finally, whereas it has been urged "if an author writes for Posterity, let him look to Posterity for his reward”— your petitioner adopts that very argument, and on its very principle prays for the adoption of the Bill introduced by Mr Sergeant Talfourd, seeing that, by the present arrangent, Posterity is bound to pay every body or any body but the true creditor. And your petitioner shall ever pray, THOMAS HOOD. That your petitioner has written certain books, being incited thereto by various innocent or laudable considerations, chiefly by the thought that said books might in the end be found to be worth something. That your petitioner had not the happiness to receive from Mr Thomas Tegg, or any Publisher, Republisher, Printer, Bookseller, Bookbuyer, or other the like man or body of men, any encouragement or countenance in writing of said books, or to discern any chance of receiving such; but wrote them by effort of his own and the favour of heaven. That all useful labour is worthy of recompense; that all honest labour is worthy of the chance of recompense; that the giving and assuring to each man what recompense his labour has actually merited, may be said to be the business of all Legislation, Polity, Government, and Social Arrangement whatsoever among men ;-a business indispensable to attempt, impossible to accomplish accurately, difficult to accomplish without inaccuracies that become enormously insupportable, and the parent of Social Confusions which never altogether end. That your petitioner does not undertake to say what recompense in money this labour of his may deserve; whether it deserves any recompense in money, or whether money in any quantity could hire him to do the like. That this his labour has found hitherto, in money or money's worth, small recompense or none; that he is by no means sure of its ever finding recompense, but thinks that, if so, it will be at a distant time, when he, the labourer, will probably no longer be in need of money, and those dear to him will still be in need of it. That the law does at least protect all persons in selling the production of their labour at what they can get for it, in all market-places, to all lengths of time. Much more than this the law does to many, but so much it does to all, and less than this to none. protect him in said happy and long-doubtful event; and May it therefore please your Honourable House to (by passing your Copyright Bill) forbid all Thomas Teggs and other extraneous persons, entirely unconcerned in this adventure of his, to steal from him his small winnings, unless your Honourable House provide otherwise, they for a space of sixty years at shortest. After sixty years, may begin to steal. And your petitioner will ever pray, THOMAS CARLYLE. MR WAKLEY'S SPEECH. [The portion of Mr Wakley's speech which we insert, does not refer to the principle of Mr Sergeant Talfourd's Bill, which, as securing nothing but substantial justice to literary men, may now be considered as a settled point; but it refers to what will likely be considered more interesting, the depreciation in price of the works of popular authors. The point brought out by the honourable member was the extensive dealings of Mr Tegg in that department of the bookselling business known by the term "remainder bookselling." When the original publisher of a work cannot get rid of it, Mr Tegg or Mr Bohn buys the whole unsold copies at a reduced rate, and if they cannot get them off, the trunkmaker must be the next resource. Of course, therefore, copyrights are valuable in the proportion that they keep distant from "remainder" premises.] There was a publication, a very distinguished publication, entitled the Quarterly Review. It had got an editor who was very friendly to this bill, a gentleman of the name of Lockhart. He had published a great variety of works on different subjects. They had been published at half-a-guinea a volume, and yet cartloads of them had recently been purchased by an eminent publisher in Cheapside, at 9d. a volume. (Hear, hear, and laughter). There was a copyright for you! The public could now get for 9d. what Mr Lockhart thought ought to be purchased for half-a-guinea. (Hear, hear, and laughter continued). Would the passing of this bill enable that gentleman to get 94d. for his volumes? There was another work, by a member of the house, entitled England and the English. (A laugh, occasioned, we believe, by Mr E. L. Bulwer, who was hanging down his head, suddenly raising it, and admitting that he was the author of it). Well, the hon. member was a distinguished author, and he gladly admitted that he had read his (Mr E. L. Bulwer's) work with great advantage. (Hear, hear). It was about four years ago that this work was published in three volumes, price L.1, 11s. 6d.-no it was in two volumes, price L.1. He would now inform the hon. member of the price at which they had been recently sold. The hon. member had deemed them worth 10s. a volume-they had been bought at 1s. a volume-(a laugh)—by a very eminent publisher, Mr Tegg, of Cheapside, the conserva tive candidate for an alderman's gown of the city of London, whose veracity, he believed, might be implicitly relied on. (Hear, hear). But it might, perhaps, be said that the hon. member had not been sufficiently remunerated for the authorship of that work. He (Mr Wakley) could not help conjecturing, from the works of the hon. member which had come before the public since the printing of that work, that some strong stimulus had acted on him from behind. Many works of his had been published since; some he had no doubt were at that very moment in embryo, and he hoped that the hon. member would be safely delivered of them in a short period. (A laugh). The author of Pelham sat on his side of the house, but the author of Vivian Grey sat on the tory side of it. His volumes had gone to the same quarters as those of the author of Pelham-they were quietly reposing at Mr Tegg's, or probably they were on their road to the trunk-maker and the butterman. (Hear, hear, and laughter). Such accidents unfortunately befel all authors, and the hon. member for Maidstone must submit like others to his doom. (Hear, and laughter). Vivian Grey and the other works of the hon. member for Maidstone-and he should be the last man in the world to detract from their great merits (cheers from the opposition benches)—and nothing, he trusted, would deprive the public of the benefit of their continuance-(cheers from the same quarter). Vivian Grey, he repeated, had gone along with the Young Duke and other works to Mr Tegg's in large numbers. (A laugh). And at what price did the house think that they were sold? Each of these novels were originally published in three volumes at the price of L.1, 11s. 6d., and Mr Tegg had bought them for 8d. a volume-(Hear, hear, and roars of laughter)-ay, and in very large quantities. (Hear, hear). But it might be said, would not the hon. member for Maidstone have the benefit of the further sale of his works when Mr Tegg "had gone to his cold grave," to quote a phrase from that hon. member's excellent speech on a former evening? No; Mr Tegg was a man of warm money calculations, and delighted in small profits and quick returns; and so, if these books did not go off quickly, so as to produce him a profit of 20 per cent, they would undoubtedly go to line trunks and envelope butter. (A laugh). He had now given the house a specimen of the present value of the works of two hon. members of that house, taken impartially from each side of it. He would now go to the case of a gentleman well known out of the house-Mr T. Hook, the editor of the John Bull newspaper, and of the New Monthly Magazine. He too, had gone to Mr Tegg's. Mr Tegg had bought Mr Hook's novels, in three volumes, published at a guinea and a-half, for ls. a volume. (Alaugh). He could not understand how it was that Mr Tegg had given but 8d. a volume for the works of the hon. member for Maidstone. (Hear, hear). He would ask Mr Tegg for an explanation of the circumstances, the next time he saw him. (Hear, and a laugh). Captain Marryatt's novels, published at a guinea and a-half each, had also been purchased in large quantities by Mr Tegg, at 9d. a volume. He could have wished that Mr Tegg had bought them for 8d. a volume, as it might have been some consolatiou to the hon. member for Maidstone. (Laughter). Here he might be permitted to observe that the stock of Mr Tegg, whose interests this bill was calculated to injure, was estimated to be worth L.170,000. (Hear, hear). When a friend of his called on Mr Tegg to make the inquiries, of which he had just communicated the results to the house, Mr Tegg undertook to give them with pleasure. He said, "I don't require anything to be concealed as to my mode of doing business, and I will give you an account of the price I paid for any work now in my premises When his friend made that communication, he (Mr Wakley) replied, "Then from the number of the works he has bought, and from prices which he has paid for them, I conjecture that Mr Tegg's premises, to which so many cartloads of our modern authors' publications go, are very large." And the answer he received was, "Yes, they are very large indeed." (Hear, hear). Mr Tegg told his friend that he had bought the works of a distinguished writer on political economy as cheap as he had bought those of the writers on polite society. (A laugh). Miscellaneous. A PUPPET PLAY IN GENOA-I went another night to see these puppets act a play called "St Helena, or the Death of Napoleon." It began by the disclosure of Napoleon, with an immense head, seated on a sofa in his chamber at St Helena; to whom his valet entered, with this obscure announcement-" Sir Yew ud se on Low!" (the ow as in cow.) Sir Hudson (that you could have seen his regimentals!) was a perfect mammoth of a man, to Napoleon; hideously ugly; with a monstrously disproportionate face, and a great clump for the lower jaw to express his tyrannical and obdurate nature. He began his system of persecution by calling his prisoner "General Buonaparte;" to which the latter replied with deepest tragedy, "Yew ud se on Low, call me not thus. Repeat that phrase and leave me! I am Napoleon, Emperor of France!" Sir Yew ud se on, nothing daunted, proceeded to entertain him with an ordinance of the British government, regulating the state he should preserve, and the furniture of his rooms; and limiting his attendants to four or five persons. "Four or five for me!" said Napoleon; "me! One hundred thousand men were lately at my sole command, and this English officer talks of four or five for me!" Throughout the piece, Napoleon (who talked very like the real Napoleon, and was for ever having small soliloquies by himself) was very bitter on "these English officers," and "these English soldiers"-to the great satisfaction of the audience, who were perfectly delighted to have Low bullied; and who, whenever Low said "General Buonaparte" (which he always did; always receiving the same correction), quite execrated him. Though it would be hard to say why, for Italians have little cause to sympathise with Napoleon, heaven knows. There was no plot at all, except that a French officer, disguised as an Englishman, came to propound a plan of escape; and, being discovered, but not before Napoleon had magnanimously refused to steal his freedom, was immediately ordered off by Low to be hanged. Two very long speeches, which Low made memorable by winding up with "Yas!" to show that he was English, brought down thunders of applause. Napoleon was so affected by this catastrophe, that he fainted away on the spot, and was carried out by two other puppets. Judging from what followed, it would appear that he never recovered the shock, for the next act showed him in a clean shirt in his bed (curtains crimson and white) where a lady, prematurely dressed in mourning, brought two little children, who kneeled down by the bedside, while he made a decent end; the last words on his lips being "Vaterloe." It was unspeakably ludicrous. Buonaparte's boots were so wonderfully beyond control, and did such marvellous things of their own accord; doubling themselves up; and getting under tables; and dangling in the air; and sometimes skating away with him out of all human knowledge, when he was in full speech-mischances which were not rendered the less absurd, by a settled melancholy depicted in his face. To put an end to one conference with Low, he had to go to a table, and read a book; when it was the finest spectacle I ever beheld, to see his body leaning over the volume, like a boot-jack, and his sentimental eyes glaring obstinately into the pit. He was prodigiously good, in bed, with an immense collar to his shirt, and his little hands outside the counterpane. So was Dr Antommarchi ; represented by a puppet with long lank hair like Mawworm's, who, in consequence of some derangement of his wires, hovered about the couch like a vulture, and gave medical opinions in the air. He was almost as good as Low, though the latter was great at all times-a decided brute and villain, beyond all possibility of mistake. Low was especially fine at the last, when, hearing the doctor and the valet say, "The emperor is dead!" he pulled out his watch, and wound up the piece (not the watch) by exclaiming, with characteristic brutality, "Ha! ha! Eleven minutes to six ! The general dead! and the spy hanged!" which brought the curtain down triumphantly.-Charles Dickens, in the Daily News. LITERARY REWARDS IN THE DAYS OF GEORGE III.— The accession of George III. opened a new and brighter prospect to men of literary merit, which had been honoured with the mark of royal favour in the preceding reign. The new minister, Lord Bute gave a pension of L.300 a year to Dr Johnson, and the same sum to Hume, the author of "Douglas." Beattie and Mallet were pensioned by the crown. The King condescended to converse with Dr Johnson. His minister recommended a literary work of great national importance to the pen of Walpole, and held out hopes that the work would meet with the encouragement of Government. But Bute went out of power, and nothing was done. Dr Shebbeare and Tom Sheridan each received a pension. The king, it was said, had pensioned a he-bear, meaning Dr Johnson, as well as a she-bear (Dr Shebbeare). No one knew why Tom Sheridan received a pension. "What!" said John son, "have they gained him a pension? Then it is time for me to give up mine." The wisdom of rewarding literature in the person of Tom Sheridan may well be doubted. Mallet had no great claims upon the government as a literary man. His ballad, it is true, is very beautiful; but "William and Margaret" did nothing for him. He was pensioned for the dirty work he had executed for a ministry in want of support. Many writers of sterling reputation were in the meantime overlooked. The delightful author of "The Vicar of Wakefield” became, for very existence, a mere literary hack or drudge for booksellers. "In Ireland," says Goldsmith, "there has been more money spent in the encouragement of the Padareen ware than given in rewards to literary men since the time of Usher." Smollett sought the assistance of Lord Shelburne, then in power, but nothing was done for the novelist; and he was allowed to end his days in perpetual exile, pinched in his means, and enfeebled in body, from the incessant employment of his pen. Burns was snatched from the sickle and the plough "to gauge ale firkins," and support a wife and family on the poor emoluments of an exciseman's office. A word to the Commissioners of Excise in Scotland, from one who quoted his poems to Mr Addington with the highest approbation, would have given him a lift in his office, gladdened the hearth, and lengthened the life of a true-born poet. We refer to Mr Pitt. When Mr Addington reminded that great statesman of the poet's genius, and the poor situation it was his lot to fill, Mr Pitt promised to do something for him, pushed the bottle on, and remembered his promise, if he remembered it at all, when the fine-hearted poet of genuine nature,— "Who to the 'illustrious' of his native land, And prosperity did look for patronage;" was, alas! no more.-Fraser's Magazine. 66 NAVAL PROMPTITUDE.-Admiral Durham had been home from the sea for a short time, when an Admiralty messenger came up to him in the street, and said Mr Yorke wished to see him immediately. Mr Yorke informed him that the French squadron had escaped from L'Orient, and that the Admiralty had five sail of the line and two frigates, ready to pursue them, at St Helens,-and said, "We want an admiral to take the command. Will you go?" "Yes." "But when?" "Out of this room." 'If you do," said Mr Yorke, incredulously, "it will be more than has been done yet. We have no difficulty in finding flag officers, but they have always so many wants before they can sail." Admiral Durham inquired if the ships were ready. Mr Yorke said "Yes," and handed him the list of five sail of the line-requested he would choose. The admiral said, "Ships to me are like hackney coaches, so I will take the first off the stand;" but observing the Venerable with an acting captain (Captain Dundas for Sir Home Popham, who was then in Parliament), he said he would take her. Mr Yorke then called in Mr Croker, the secretary, who seemed equally astonished at the admiral being ready to sail at a moment's notice. Two junior lords of the Admiralty were then sent for, and they held a board; and having determined upon the outline of the instructions and orders, Mr Croker promised to have them ready at six o'clock, it being then four. Admiral Durham then sent a messenger to his house in Gloucester Place, with orders to his servant to put up a few things -to have a postchaise and four ready in an hour-and to go to Kingston, and on to Portsmouth, ordering horses on the road, and a boat to be ready at the sally-port at daylight. Having received his orders, the admiral proceeded without loss of time to Portsmouth, embarked at the sally-port at daylight for St Helens, hoisted his flag in the Venerable, and ordered the squadron to get under weigh immediately, to their great astonishment. They appeared to be in no hurry, and, after some delay, the Plantagenet made signal, "Cannot purchase anchor." Admiral Durham briefly answered, "Cut your cable," and made the signal general, "Enemy at sea." These few energetic words acted like a talisman on the whole squadron. There were no more excuses; the capstans flew round like lightning, and the ships were under weigh in half an hour.-Life of Admiral Durham. Poetry, MORNING. SWIFTLY from the mountain's brow, Philomel forsakes the thorn, Plaintive where she prates at night; And the lark, to meet the Morn, Soars beyond the shepherd's sight. From the low-roofed cottage ridge, See the chattering swallow spring: Darting through the one-arched bridge, Quick she dips her dappled wing. Now the pine-tree's waving top Gently greets the Morning gale; Kidlings now begin to crop Daisies in the dewy dale. From the balmy sweets, uncloyed, Trickling through the creviced rock, TERMS FOR "THE TORCH." Single numbers, 1d.; or free by post, 24d. 18. 7 d. 2s. 6d. 7d. All Subscriptions payable in advance. The back numbers of the Torch can be had at the reduced rate of three halfpence each. Printed by THOMAS MURRAY, of No. 2 Arniston Place, and WILLIAM GIBB, of No. 26 Royal Crescent, at the Printing Office of MURRAY and GIBB, North-East Thistle Street Lane; and Published at No, 58 Princes Street, by WILLIAM AITCHISON SUTHERLAND, of No. 1 Windsor Street, and JAMES KNOX, of No. 7 Henderson Row; all in the City and County of Edinburgh. Edinburgh: SUTHERLAND & KNOX, 58 Princes Street; and sold by HOUSTON & STONEMAN, Paternoster Row, London; W. BLACKWOOD and J. M'LEOD, Glasgow; L. SMITH, Aberdeen; JOHN ROBERTSON, Dublin; and may be had by order of every Bookseller in the United Kingdom. Edinburgh, Saturday, May 9, 1846. THE TORCH= A Weekly Journal for the Instruction and Entertainment of the People. DIFFERENCE OF WAGES IN DIFFERENT | fessions. The officers of the army and navy receive PROFESSIONS ACCOUNTED FOR. THE difference of wages that obtains in different professions is very striking; for example, the great discrepancy that obtains between the remuneration given to a mechanic, and that given to a physician or lawyer. This discrepancy is well known to exist, but the principle which gives rise to it has not generally been understood. If all employments were equally agreeable, healthy, respectable; exposed to similar risks, and required the same degree of skill, ingenuity, and education, this discrepancy would not obtain, and wages would be the same in them all. If wages were, under these circumstances, higher for a time in one employment than in another, there would be an accession of hands to that employment, so that, by competition, wages would soon be reduced, and an equilibrium maintained. The following are the principal circumstances which determine the different rates of wages in different employments:-I. The agreeableness or disagreeableness of the employments. II. The easiness or cheapness, or the difficulty and expense of learning them. III. The constancy or inconstancy of employment in them. IV. The small or great trust which must be reposed in those who exercise them; and, V. The probability or improbability of success in them. I. The agreeableness or disagreeableness of the employments themselves. The rate of wages must obviously vary according to the variations in these circumstances. No man would follow a dirty and disagreeable profession if he were not, as it were, bribed to it by higher wages. A journeyman blacksmith, for example, seldom earns so much in twelve hours as a collier will do in six or eight. The blacksmith's work is not quite so dirty, is less dangerous, and is carried on in daylight, and above ground. The work of a collier, on the contrary, is dangerous, dirty, and disagreeable, is carried on under ground, and is not nearly so healthy; hence his wages must be higher, as they accordingly are, to compensate for all these drawbacks. If his wages were not higher he would not be a collier, but follow some more agreeable, healthy, and less dangerous business. Honour makes a great part of the pay of many pro a comparatively small pecuniary compensation for their services; the consideration, dignity, and fascinations attached to the profession forming, as it were, part of their salary. Were it not for their splendid uniforms, their importance in fashionable society, and perhaps their hope of glory, their wages would be much greater. On the same principle many hundred, nay, many thousand, individuals, are anxious to undertake the duties, and perform the labour of town-councillors and of senators in Parliament, not only without fee or reward, but at the expense of personal and pecuniary sacrifice; the honour, dignity, and eminence attached to the office being considered a sufficient reward and compensation. To obtain a seat in parliament, for example, is both very difficult and very expensive; and when a seat has been obtained the duty is both most arduous and responsible. Yet, when a seat in parliament is vacant, or at a general election, there is no want of candidates; there is in general, indeed, a superabundance of candidates, who, each and all, are willing to expend thousands to realise the object of their ambition. And yet a seat in parliament will not restore to them a fraction of the money they have spent to obtain it; nay, it has a tendency to add considerably to their expenditure, as their rank in life has been elevated. Why, then, are so many gentlemen so intensely anxious to become members of the legislature? Why do they sacrifice so much even for the bare chance of securing their election? The principle which we are considering answers these questions most satisfactorily. The honour, dignity, and eminence that necessarily result to a man from holding this high rank form a sufficient motive and a sufficient compensation. It sheds a lustre over his own character, and is honourable to his family and relations. Now this reward is not to be despised. On the contrary, it ought rather to be cherished as to ourselves, and encouraged and applauded on the part of others. It is implanted in our breast by an all-wise Creator for important purposes; and while it is the source of great happiness to ourselves, it is essential to the public service, and forms a most essential element in the mechanism of civil society. As honour and dignity constitute a great part of |