YOUNG MEN'S MUTUAL IMPROVEMENT SOCIETIES. ONE of the most hopeful signs of our times is, the ardent desire for knowledge which has taken possession of the young minds of the community, and which is displaying itself in the establishment of numerous Mutual Improvement Societies in all our large towns and populous districts,-societies, which are almost entirely originated and supported by young men belonging to the working classes of society. Formerly, the educational means available for the rising generation of the country were mainly supplied by the patronage of the rich; now, however, we find the classes the most deeply intrusted in their own education, taking the matter into their own hands, and prosecuting it with a diligence and success that must be regarded as praiseworthy in the highest degree. While insisting on the importance of the Mutual Improvement Societies for young men now referred to, we would not ignore the important question of efficient provision for the education of the whole children of the community; for we regard it as one of the first and most urgent duties of a civilized nation, to provide for the efficient elementary instruction of all its children. In this respect, education in England must yet, we regret to say, be regarded as having made comparatively small progress. It has but touched the loftier summits of society, as the rising sun tips the mountain tops with his radiance, while the deep and low lying valleys remain enveloped in a dark, thick, and impenetrated darkness. Still, we find a large and increasing number of the young men belonging to the neglected classes awaking to a sense of the importance of education, and endeavouring to make up by diligent application in their adult years for the deficient or altogether neglected education of their childhood. Many young men and women frequent the Mutual Improvement Societies now in existence, for the special purpose of learning to read and write; others, to re-learn these acquirements, forgotten in the pursuits of daily labour; others, to cultivate their minds, and gather knowledge by instruction, reading, and lectures. The origin of these societies is generally in this way: One or two of the reading young men of a district get together, and, seeing what other young men elsewhere are doing with so much success, they ask themselves whether something equally beneficial ought not be devised for their own neighbourhood. These young men are very often tee-totallers, and having abjured the demoralizing stimulus of drink, they seem resolved to create for themselves a stimulus of a higher and more enduring order. They discuss the matter, name it to others, the scheme is approved; and some untenanted cottage is hired at a small rent, and the Mutual Improvement Society is [PRICE 14d. started. It works away humbly and untiringly-the young men who started it, for some time, its only teachers; their names are scarcely known or heard of-they make no noise -no brilliant demonstrations accompany their effortsthey have not even the encouragement of praise-they are satisfied with adding members to their institution, and with opening to new minds the pleasures and blessings of knowledge. Yet, humble though the operations of those young men are, how noble, how truly glorious, are they! What a false estimate has gone abroad in the world, as to what constitutes true glory! Stars and garters--highsounding titles, and heavy money bags-successful carnage on a battle-field, or unprincipled manoeuvring exercised in the art of diplomacy-high seats in the world's arena, and glare and glitter in those who occupy them-such is glory according to the vulgar, the fashionable acceptation! But how much more truly glorious is it, without show, or noise, or barbarian clangour, to go quietly and perseveringly onward in the work of developing and improving human faculties, and opening them to the contemplation of great truths and principles. To awaken and arouse a mind-to feed it with instruction, and to implant within it true principles of judgment and action-is a more glorious work-is a far greater service done to the cause of truth, of virtue, of religion, of humanity, than the gaining of any sort of battle with swords, or the realization of any sort of mere worldly fortune, no matter how splendid. The young man who instructs his untaught brother man in the simple art of reading, is putting in his possession the key to all written knowledge; he is placing within his means the greatest power in the world-the power of thought; he is admitting him to a converse with all the enlightened spirits of this and of by-gone ages-unbarring to him the greatest stores of knowledge and experience contained in BOOKS-enabling him to sit at the feet of the greatest teachers who have ever lived-and planting his steps firmly on the ladder of knowledge, which reaches up even into the heavens. In addition to the numerous Mutual Improvement Societies established by young men in their immediate localities, many others have recently been established by lodges in connection with Odd Fellows' Societies. And when we consider the extensive organization of Odd Fellowship throughout Great Britain-that the various societies of this kind probably include not less than half a million of persons, it will be obvious how powerful an instrumentality for good would be such institutions, if directed to the moral and intellectual improvement of the working population. Already in many of the large towns, Mutual Instruction Classes have been formed by them, at which reading, writing, and the ordinary branches of instruction, sometimes including foreign languages, are taught to the members, and others; weekly lectures are delivered; and useful libraries for the use of the members are in course of formation. The Mechanics' Institutes are also engaged in some quarters in forming classes of the same kind. They have peculiar facilities for carrying forward the work of adult instruction; they are already organized. They possess, generally, efficient libraries; and they may be regarded as the centres of the educational movement of their neighbourhoods. It may, therefore, be considered as the peculiar duty of Mechanics' Institutes to give every facility to the education of youth, by the establishment of Mutual Improvement Societies. Even when a young man has had the advantage of a good school education, a great deal remains to be done before he can call himself an educated person. Education, in its highest sense, has scarcely commenced at the age at which the boy leaves school. The mind has yet to be actively exercised; principles have to be acquired, or at least matured; the judgment has to be trained and strengthened; and opinions have to be formed. All that self-education does, has yet to be done; and in almost all cases, the education which a man gives to himself is by far the most valuable. No man can be thoroughly well educated who is not in a great measure selfeducated. Every man possesses a free activity in himself; he has a power of will, an innate energy and means of action, which enable him in a great measure to act the part of his own educator, his own emancipator. We are not the mere slaves of circumstances, thrown upon the current to mark its course, but are to a large extent free agents, independent existences, endowed with power to battle and contend with adverse circumstances; and by dint of perseverance and valour, to overcome them, and rise above them. Resolute purpose, perseverance, and strong will, are the great essentials. Fortified by these, the greatest men of all ages have risen up from the lowest stations of life, even from out of the huts of the poorest. Difficulties the most formidable have been surmounted by them-poverty, ill-health, blindness, slavery, the harrassment of labouring for daily bread-adverse circumstances of all kinds,-have been conquered by men eager and determined in the pursuit of knowledge. imparted to them. Knowledge and culture ought to be regarded as the property of society at large, and no man has a right to monopolize their benefits to himself, and to refuse to impart to others a share of what is common property. Individuals can individually do much to impart education and knowledge to those who stand in need of them; but, by combining their efforts for the elevation of the moral and intellectual improvement of their brethren, they can do much more. By getting together in a common fund, as it were, the moral and intellectual possessions of a large number of persons, and opening this fund for the free use of all, the possessions of the whole are greatly extended. The deficiencies of one individual are corrected by the culture imparted by others, and the common possession of the whole may thus become the property of each. No one will be impoverished in proportion as another gains; on the contrary, the mental wealth of every member will be increased, and his hold of knowledge be strengthened by the very effort made to impart it to others. The free activity of all, combined for the purpose of improving all, is, we believe, a great lever, by means of which the moral world is to be raised! Such is our view of the important bearings of the Young Mens' Mutual Improvement Societies, the progress of which we shall have pleasure in noticing from time to time in the pages of our Journal. FOOLS. "Ay! marry! Now, unmuzzle your wisdom." AS YOU LIKE IT. SOME modern writer is of opinion, that fools were sent into the world to afford amusement and relaxation to the wise men, who would, it is to be feared, lead a very dull sort of life without them. Being, as I am frequently told, no little of a fool myself, it will not, I trust, be deemed presuming in me to offer a few observations upon these, my numerous and extensively influential relations. They take, I have reason to believe, a very different view of the matter from that of the writer just alluded to, and firmly believe, that the wise men were sent on earth to be laughed at by the fools. In numbers, there can be no doubt that the fools have the superiority; and, therefore, whenever ridicule is made the test of truth, it is no wonder that folly is victorious over wisdom; in fact, if It is the great distinctive characteristic of man in a civilized state, that he is ever aiming at progress-at advancement to a higher and better state of things. He may be thrown back, but if his will be firm, he will rise again and force his way onward. Difficulty and opposi-numbers and noise carried the day in mundane affairs, as tion but serve as stimuli to the true-hearted labourer. They bring out the best qualities of his nature; impose upon him more diligent self-culture, and more rigid discipline. By self-culture, the young man improves himself, and acts beneficially upon those about him. No one can work for his own advancement in the highest sense, but at the same time he is working for the advancement of his brother men; and no one can profitably labour for the improvement of others, but at the same time is labouring diligently for the improvement of himself. The success of one man helps forward the success of others. His labours are not lost-they are propagated through all time; others take up his work when he lays it down, and thus improvement goes on without ceasing. The future thus co-operate with the present, and the present with the past; the living, active man is the link that binds the two ages together-the age that is coming, with the age that is passing away. they sometimes seem likely to do, this were a fool's paradise indeed, and the sooner the wise folks made their way out of it the better. But a sharp scrutiny into history will show us, that it is not in virtue of their much folly, but of their little wisdom that fools are so powerful on earth. "To get the fools and knaves of a country well governed-that is the problem for all states to solve," says Carlyle. True; and as yet no state has arrived at a thoroughly satisfactory solution. Every little helps; even a few honest words about fools, from a half-caste of that mighty race, may not be quite useless. Of the knaves, who are only a bigger sort of fools, I will say nothing, leaving them to be dealt with by stronger hands. Let me also caution the grave and wise reader, not to expect any profound observations or ingenious theories from me. Have I not honestly confessed my affinity (not elective, certainly,) with my subject? It is my misfortune to be compelled to speak according to my We might here speak of the duty which each member folly; and, therefore, my discourse must needs be ramof society owes to his neighbour, to impart to him a por-bling, disjointed, and regardless of unity of effect. I tion of that culture which society has given to its possessor. The knowledge which each man possesses is not the product of this age alone, but has been elaborated by the industry of all preceding ages. Some, more favourably circumstanced, have acquired a larger portion of it by education than others; and such are bound, by all moral and social duty, to impart to others what has been have taken heed to the words of a modern philosopher,"What thy own dæmon prompteth, that speak thou out freely." Now, this is what my own dæmon prompteth. "As one star differeth from another in glory," so does one fool differ from another fool in folly. They are alike, but not identical. There is the vain fool, and the proud fool;-the learned fool, and the ignorant fool;~the talka. now. tive fool and the silent fool;-the clever fool and the "What can we reason but from what we know;" saith the poet; and all the world knows that poets, in general, are little better than inspired fools. Ah me! I would I were not a simpleton, that I might prove to the world the sanity of true genius. It is the sanest, fairest, best, most honest, most loving thing in this weary world. If it were not for occasional communings with it, even I, fool as I am, would as lief lie down and die. "And though some, too seeming holy, himself as the vain fool in his belief of the opinion of The Learned Fool, again, is tedious and ridiculous, without having any suspicion of the fact. He lives in the pleasing delusion that the reading of books is synonymous with the acquisition of knowledge. Few people read so much, and apprehend so little of the meaning of what they read. Yet he prides himself upon being a man of vast reading; and will talk away in a sort of bookish mosaic, so that you would say he had picked up a great quantity of valuable matter in his studies, without having any clear idea of why he did so, or what was the use of it. The only thing he is thoroughly master of is the use of big words. He pours forth polysyllables and derivations from the Greek fluently. He imposes upon women and simple-minded persons by his terrible setting forth of unheard-of epithets. "He draweth the thread of his verbosity finer than the staple of his argument;" and as to his quotations from all dead and living tongues, you would swear that "he had been at a great feast of languages and stolen the scraps;" and that he ought to have been chief interpreter at Babel. There is no harm in the learned fool,—no malice prepense; but he is liable to talk you dead, and to turn his own foolish little brain, by trying to cram into it matter enough to fill one of Baconian capacity. What makes knaves and fools of them." "There we are again!"-Withers has brought us back to our subject. As I said before, dear reader, a propos of foolishness, it seems to me most probable, that you as well as I have "a touch of that same." Pray do not look indignant and brim full of positive negatives. In cases of mere folly, as of decided madness, one of the surest symptoms of the disease is the patient's disbelief in his own malady. Besides, let us comfort ourselves with the reflection, that we are in the majority. Come, then, my friend, let us quietly, and as gracefully as may be, put on the cap and bells, and take a survey of our brethren. Pre-eminent in foolishness is the Vain Fool; but he is, for the most part, more harmless than the rest; besides, he is fair game for those who love a laugh at the absurdities of their fellow-creatures. The most comfortable thing in this uncomfortable world is the vain fool. Confidence in other people's good opinion of him wraps him round like a garment, or, rather, it encloses him like a coat of mail, and is proof against every sort of sling and arrow that sense or satire may aim at him "Happy man!" Vain fools are generally great busybodies. They all believe they are born with a talent for managing other people's affairs; some believe they are born to regenerate society, and if they happen to be rich, these last live in a state of continual beatitude; or, as it were, in a field of ever-flowering clover. There will never be wanting plenty of people, who find it their interest to persuade such fat oxen, that each of them is, verily, a genuine god Apis. Great is the vain fool's faith in the sentiments he inspires; child-like and undoubting, he has no misgivings, but believes, without a moment's hesitation, all that he wishes to believe. If a man behave with kindness and civility to him, the vain fool sets him down directly for a devoted friend and admirer, and treats him accordingly. If a woman smile at him good-naturedly, he takes it for granted that she is distractedly in love with him, and makes a greater fool than ever of himself, in consequence. This style of fool is bland, complaisant, and patronising in his manner. He carries his head high, and his mouth half open. He pays great attention to his dress and demeanour. Among his fellows he passes for a clever gentleman, and a man of great benevolence; other people believe that he is nothing but a silly coxcomb, and that his benevolence is, nine-tenths of it, vanity. But, not to be severe, we must add, that he is active, and when well directed by a wiser head than his own, he and his money often do good in the world. The vain fool is the last species of the | pig and the peacock. genus one should wish to see die out. The Ignorant Fool is empty, dull, and quietly conceited. He knows nothing, and supposes that he is as wise and as witty as his neighbours. He firmly believes that all men are born equal in intellectual capacity; and, for his part, he never reads, because he fears to spoil the originality of his genius;-he never knew any good come of much reading, The only books looked into by this class of persons are the Almanack, the Cookery Book, and sometimes the Racing Calendar. Like our well-beloved Goodman Dull, "He hath never fed of the dainties that are bred in a book; he hath not ate paper--as it were; he hath not drunk ink; his intellect is not replenished; he is only an animal, only sensible in the duller parts." For all that, he does not lack pride, but is, as it were, a pretty mixture of the The Talkative Fool may not be the worst of fools, The Proud Fool is almost as happy in his opinion of but he is decidedly one of the most unpleasant. Ye a gods! how he will talk! In season and out of season, by day, by night, in the market-place, in the church, in the theatre, in his own house, or in yours, wherever you are unlucky enough to encounter that man, you are gone coon."-The clapper of a bell, the continual flowing of water, give but faint ideas of this man's talk. Windy, frothy, inane, rapid, senseless, and semi-articulate,-he will go on for ever, without breathing pauses or full stops. It is useless to wait in expectation that something will come out at last. Nothing ever does come out of such a mind, for there is nothing in it; it is as barren as the east wind, and quite as likely to give delicately constituted people the ear-ache. Oh! while you live, my friends, shun the talkative fool. The Silent Fool is of a very superior nature. He is respectable; and although he is a fool, he holds his tongue and makes no boast of it. "Silence is greater than speech," say the modern Pythagoreans; and, therefore, the silent fool scorns oratory. There is a sort of dumb wisdom in him, which is his glory, and which never departs from him until he opens his mouth. Unhappy fool! Why not keep ever silent, and look serene, and shake your head gravely, so that people might always "think there is something in it." The Stupid Fool is the acme and crown, the ne plus ultra of foolishness. This is that sublimity of denseness, that pure, opaque stupidity against which, as Schiller says, "the very gods fight in vain." Great is the power of Stupidity!-deadly is the life within her. Cold, impurturbable, and inanimate, her votaries rule and conquer by the greatest of all forces, the vis inertæ. The stupid fool unites the attributes of nearly all other fools in his person. Moreover, he is the most obstinate animal on earth. He boasts that he never alters his mind; that he always did think so and so, and always shall." This is sad license of language; because, properly speaking, the thinking of the stupid fool is a nonentity-he cannot think. Over the vast inane of that which he calls his mind, no light ever gleams. He is vain, proud, ignorant, talkative, and silent, by turns; but he is never learned, because he has not even that last resource of the specious simpleton, a good verbal memory. deshabille garment of "motley," is as valuable an article in our human wardrobe, as the senator's robe, or preacher's gown. JANE. THE NEW CROCKERY SHOP. At the end of three months, the builder and painters had finished their work, and the scaffolding being removed, disclosed to the eyes of the neighbourhood, a very handsome shop, and stone-fronted building. Curiosity was soon further excited, when vans began to deposit, at night-time, new household furniture of the very best kind. After this came crates packed with straw, and with "glass" written very conspicuously on every one. But curiosity remained ungratified, for the shutters were kept up; all that could be seen or learnt being, that a little old man, with an apron before him, went in in the morning, came out at night, and kept the door carefully locked. During this interval there had sprung up between Madeline and Miss Jinks a particular liking and friendship for each other. For the first visit, made at the time before specified, had been followed by others, sometimes in company with Mrs. Gussett, and sometimes alone. Now, however, that affairs had reached this point, the good staymaker took an entire day, and started off to Gravesend alone, very early one morning, dressed in her second best silk gown, and Sunday bonnet. Captain Jinks welcomed her himself, for he was just home from one of his Mediterranean voyages, and with his kind little maiden sister, entered into all the business of the approaching wedding-for it was about Madeline's wedding Mrs. Gussett had come, with the fullest pleasure, and went into all the detail about Madeline's new dress, as if it were to be of gold, and for their own and sole adornment. Now," said Captain Jinks, when the well-cooked little dinner was removed, and a bottle of sherry, which had gone several voyages, placed upon the table, "Edward Hay, you say, is at Bristol just now; well, couldn't he come, and meet Madeline here, and get married at the little country church hard by, and let me give the wedding breakfast, and Mary here make a first rate plumcake? Why, this is the very thing." "To be sure," echoed Miss Jinks, "it would be the most pleasant thing that has happened to me and John for many a long day! You're sure I'd do my best to make them comfortable. Besides this, you and dear Madeline could come from town the afternoon before, and bring the dresses so nice in a large box, and Edward could sleep in the town, and not come till the morning, and so make the surprise the greater. Now, doesn't this make your plan still better, John?" Captain Jinks thought so, Mrs. Gussett thought so; and in this way everything was arranged; Captain Jinks himself undertaking to write the important and happy letter to Bristol. Of the Clever Fool volumes might be written. He is every body's friend but his own. He suggests ideas, which other people work out. He prefers pleasure to business, and scruples not to say so. While he says witty things, the stupid fools eat up all the best things on the table. He is often absent in mind, and takes away another man's hat or coat instead of his own; but the exchange is sure to be his disadvantage. He tells truth mal a propos; and whenever he tries his hand at a fib, for a kind purpose, he is sure to be found out. He never has an eye to the main chance, but is always running astray after smaller ones. He has fine intellectual qualities, but they are not well balanced; there is a screw loose in his mind, and this screw he often tries to find and fasten, but cannot succeed. The clever fool is often the most amiable of men. Men love him, they hold him in their hearts, and laugh heartily at and with him; but they cannot transact business with him, they will not give him a high stool in their counting-houses. Yet, will he prove a true friend; for what says Charles Lamb on this very subject of fools? "I have never made an acquaintance since my childhood, that lasted, or a friendship that answered, with any that had not some As thus arranged, everything was proceeded with; and tincture of the absurd in their characters. I venerate an on the appointed Monday morning, about a fortnight honest obliquity of understanding." In that veneration after the above mentioned visit, Mrs. Gussett and Madedo I most heartily join. After all, what a dry thing is line left Blackwall for Gravesend. They had a hearty unassisted common sense! A spice of folly gives a zest welcome; the cottage aud pretty garden were in beauto life. In heaven's name, then, let us cherish the fools; tiful order, and the next morning rose as fair as ever lest in the improvement of the race, they become extinct, morning of a marriage day. As soon as Madeline came like the Dodo; for be assured, gentle reader, notwith-down, looking so graceful and so modest, there was standing the few words we have bestowed on cur subject, in goodnatured sport, that none on earth are so truly foolish as those who are always wise; and that the easy, "And then to think, by this plan, how nice we shall be able to manage the surprise about the shop," said the good-natured staymaker, with tears in her eyes, "and how nice everything can be placed in order whilst they're away; and the Crockery Shop' opened the very morning they come back." Edward to fold her in his arms, and kiss away her natural tears at so long a separation, and so joyful a return; and there was Captain Jinks in perfect ecstacy, and several bachelor friends, in nearly the same condition; and Miss Jinks all spirits and smiles, and Mrs. Gussett so well dressed and so personable and neat, as to make Captain Jinks then and there advise her to follow the coming example; but she laughing, shook her head, and said she had Madeline for a daughter and wanted nothing more. And, before they set off to church, Captain Jinks put over Madeline's neck a valuable watch and chain, and Mary Jinks fastened the bosom of her dress with a brooch, and as they passed through the little parlour, where breakfast was all arrayed for their return home, Madeline's quick eye detected amidst cake and fruit, and potted meat, and nice things of every sort, decked with the choicest flowers, some of those beautiful cups and saucers made for her other wedding day. She could not speak for emotion; yet she had only to look up into the honest face of Captain Jinks, to read a true heart there, and all the secret! From brokers-shops, from pawnshops, from curiosity-shops, he had rescued these remnants, and here they stood to grace this marriage day! God bless such hearts, they make of earth a heaven whilst we are of it! The little old grey country church, with its stormworn gravestones, stood a bow-shot from the cottage, upon a grassy knoll, which sloped in green declivities to the ship-studded river. It was a beautiful morning, a lovely scene, and leafy woods upon the uplands, and quiet fields. They went from the silent grave-path into the cool shadows of the little rustic church aisle, stood before the altar, and the morning sun fell lovingly upon them. The service was said, the ring was on; so that thus, he who had had a love of the beautiful, and she who had prized to the last extremity his marriage gift, were one. They came forth together on the grassy knoll; the tide sparkled as it swept on, the ships glided by with their white wings, and the very spirit of life and joy seemed to enwrap the earth, and make it fairer than a dream! * * * * * * * 37 breath, "so untidy, so idle, so cruel to us, so"No, no," interrupted the old man and woman in a many ways of vindicating the innocent, many ways of Nature has many ways of declaring truth against a lie, justification for the wronged; so now, even now, whilst their lips gave the lie, the old blind blackbird Dick, distinguishing perhaps the presence of the child, pushed open the door of his old wicker cage with his beak, and hopping down, alighted upon her shoulder, with poised wings and nestling bill, as if asking for its customary caress; thus did Nature deny the accusation of cruelty. The old man drove off the bird at once, but not before all present were convinced that the child must have been tender and gentle, even to the poor blind bird. her to bed, and sent directly for a doctor, who attended Mrs. Gussett carried home little Sue in her arms, put her so well, that in a few days the child was so much better, as to be able to come down stairs, and to hear from the beadle that her term of apprenticeship to Moses was cancelled, and that Mrs. Gusset had promised to be her friend as long as she was a good girl. Crockery Shop, and that of little Sue's would be the As some assistance would be wanted in the New very best in the world, Mrs. Gussett had some of her's and Madeline's old gowns converted into frocks for her, bought her shoes, and made her altogether quite smart and tidy; so that by the time of Madeline's return, the neighbours could hardly recognize the child. a Sabbath evening, Madeline and her husband were Every thing was at last ready; and in the stillness of welcomed to their new home, and in its snug little parlour, so well furnished, so commodious, and situated just at the rear of the shop, poured out the fulness of their grateful hearts to this good friend of their better fortunes. shutters were removed, the windows burnished up, and At last the important Monday morning came; the by the early dinner hour of twelve, young Hay and the The next day the good staymaker returned to renew lous display of well-shaped jugs, melon-shaped breakfast old shopman had decked them out with such a marvelher wonted labours, and make divers preparations for cups and saucers, tea-services of delicate pencilled patMadeline's arrival after the wedding trip to Dover. Gussett had not been home more than a day, before sea views, and rural landscapes, prettily painted thereon, Mrs. terns, plates with rich fruit, and flowers, and birds, and many things concerning little Sue at Moses' reached her and children's mugs of gayest colours, and teapots of ears. These rumours increased in their seriousness; and red earth and antique shapes, and cream-jugs flat, like at last a neighbour telling her that the child had not been Roman lamps, and pretty vases of the same hue, and seen for some days, Mrs. Gussett took the opportunity chimney ornaments of graceful shapes, yet, all so cheap, afforded by the leisure of Sunday evening to call with a and so many of them within the means of the humble respectable neighbour upon the before-mentioned official. mechanics, and shipwrights, and draymen, so much better He looked grave at the information, and returned with shaped, yet, quite as cheap, or even cheaper than anythem to Moses' house. admittance, and found the old man and woman in their so fairly astonished, as to make the New Crockery Shop With some difficulty they gained thing at Moses', that the neighbours and passers by were triangular room, in their usual dirt and squalor, busy over the theme on every tongue. their account-books. At first they said Sue was out; to see the young wife all that day serving draymen's next, that she was ill, and could not be seen; but at last, and shipwrights' babies with pretty mugs, mechanics' It was quite pleasant when pressed upon the matter, and no excuses allowed, wives with teapots, with which they hastened home as if they unlocked a small door, and there the child was dis- they had got a wonder, and single young journeymen covered sinking from neglect and ill-usage, lying upon a with a new cup and saucer, or a jug, or vase for their onewretched flock bed, in one corner of a windowless sort of room chimney piece. closet. Neither Mrs. Gussett, nor the beadle, nor the neighbours present could control their indignation; the shop,-for beauty is too essential an element in the Weeks progressed, and with them the trade of the new good staymaker took the child in her arms, sat down in philosophy of progressive social life to be long disrethe little triangular room, and bathed its face with water.garded, wherever it exists, and is attainable. In points "This treatment will annul the apprenticeship at once," said the beadle. "Our churchwardens, thanks be to God, have hearts, Mrs. Moses." "And can go to law and recover damages," followed an irritated neighbour, who looked at the two Moses, as if he should then and there like to turn them into butterboats, or pipkins, or basins. "How you could do so," spoke at last the staymaker, pathetically, "I don't know. So patient as the girl has been, through cold and wet, so obliging and civil to customers, always dusting the crocks at the door, and lifting great weights, and like these, where it enters into the associated circum. stances of daily life; where it appeals, partly to the eminently an agent of civilization, and makes men, like mental, largely to the sensuous faculties, it becomes Felix Summerly, the greatest benefactors of an age. Poussins may arise; Claudes may paint their glorious pictures such as these are not always accessible; and landscapes; Raphaels their divine countenances; but even when accessible, not always intelligible to mental faculties, wholly or partially uneducated. But a wellshaped jug, or cup with a hanging bunch of flowers, or pastoral landscapes on them, in these our days of cheap and |