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In another part of the book, Mr Caswall relates a few personal anecdotes of this worthy, mentioned to him by credible witnesses; but they refer to such scenes of drunkenness and profanity, that we should not feel justified in transcribing them. Enough, we think, has been said to expose the character of a dangerous impostor, and to prevent individuals amongst our working population from expending their little all on the faith of such a man's promises. We have before us a letter from an unfortunate cotton-spinner of Lancashire, which shows how necessary such a caution is. The Mormon preachers in England had described Nauvoo to him as a land overflowing with milk and honey, and a place where the divine Being had commanded a temple to be built, that might be a refuge to all mankind. Joseph Smith, at least, had certainly commanded this, as the following very unequivocal passages from his writings will show :-" Verily, verily, I say unto you, let all my saints come from afar, and send ye swift messengers, yea, chosen messengers, and say unto them, Come ye with all your gold, and your silver, and your precious stones, and with all your antiquities; and all who have knowledge of antiquities that will come may come; and bring the box tree, and the fir-tree, and the pine-tree, together with all the precious trees of the earth; and with iron, and with copper, and with brass, and with zinc, and with all your precious things of the earth, and build a house to my name, for the Most High to dwell therein: for there is not a place found upon earth, that he may come and restore again that which was lost unto you, or which he hath taken away, even the fullness of the priesthood.""

By such blasphemous and deceitful stuff as this, the poor cotton-spinner, like too many others, was induced to go to Nauvoo, where, like other victims of delusion, he was wretchedly used.

It is needless to carry our notice of this matter further. Every shadow of evidence yet obtained tends to prove Mormonism to be a gross imposture, and one unworthy of notice, save on account of the dangers which have here been described and exposed.

AN OMNIBUS ADVENTURE. ONE day an elderly gentleman, named Cartwright, stepped into an omnibus at the west end of the town, in order to pay a visit to the Bank to receive his dividends. In the Strand, the vehicle stopped, and took up a lady and a little girl, who, having seated themselves exactly opposite to Mr Cartwright, afforded him full leisure and opportunity to survey them. The first thing he remarked of the lady was, that she was both young and pretty, and the next, that she bore in her countenance evident traces of sorrow and anxiety. The little girl was very pretty too, and, whatever her mother's cause of grief might be, was yet too young to share it, for she did not look more than four years old. Interested by their appearance, Mr Cartwright made one or two attempts to address the lady; but although she answered him politely, she seemed too much absorbed in her own reflections to be disposed for conversation. Some courtesies offered to the child met with a more willing reception. Before they reached the Bank, however, he lost sight of them; they descended and turned into a street that led off at right angles, whilst the heavy omnibus rumbled on to its destination.

Receiving one's dividends is a very pleasant occupation, especially to a comfortable Leicestershire farmer, who adds something to his principal every year, which was the case with Mr Cartwright, who was an extensive breeder of sheep in that county. He was a very good-natured kind-hearted man at all times; but in consequence of the soothing effect of his errand, when, having transacted his business, he buttoned up his pockets and stepped into the omnibus to return, he felt in a more than usually complacent mood, and very well disposed to chat with his companions. Accordingly, he entered into an amicable dispute regarding the badness of the times with a passenger who sat opposite, and whose errand into the city had probably been of a less agreeable kind, seeing that he professed his belief that a period of universal ruin was approaching. Mr. Cartwright took the cheerful side of the question; averring, that in all ages it had been the fashion to abuse the present and laud the past, but for his part he did not doubt that the times were as good as any that had preceded them, if not better.

Whilst our happily-disposed friend was engaged in this argument, the omnibus suddenly stopped at exactly the same spot where the lady and the little girl had descended from it, and when the door opened, he perceived that it was to take them up again. The lady made him a slight acknowledgment of recognition, the little girl smiled in his face, but on looking at the countenance of the former, he could not help concluding that her expedition had not terminated so agreeably as his own. There were traces of recently-shed tears, and the expression of grief he had first remarked seemed now almost deepened into despair. At this sight, MrCartwright left off praising the times, and set himself to think what could be the matter

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Yes, exactly," replied Mr Cartwright. "What is their name?" "Sinclair," responded the woman.

"How long have they lived here?"

"Almost two years; but they're going away next week."

"Has the lady a husband?" inquired Mr Cartwright.

"I believe so, but I never saw him. I heard that he had turned out ill, and had left her."

"Do you know what her situation is? She does not appear to be in very good circumstances."

"Not she. That's the reason she's going awayshe can't afford to pay for her lodging, and I can't afford to stand out of my money."

"Has she any friends?" asked Mr Cartwright. "A few people used to call on her when first she came to live here," answered the woman; "but they have all dropped off, and you're the first person that has inquired for her for many a day. Do you know her?"

with his fair fellow-traveller. He wondered much if door which appeared to lead into a counting-house, her trouble arose from want of money. She was gen- which point being ascertained, and a probable means teelly dressed, and so was the child; but how often of tracing them thus secured, Mr Cartwright hastened the outside is maintained at the expense of the inside, on to the bank, in order that he might transact his and with how many is personal appearance the last business and return in the omnibus as before, in the thing sacrificed! How frequently good clothes, the hope that they might do the same. They did so; only remaining relics of better days, are accompanied and when they left the carriage in the Strand, he left by an empty pocket; and the decayed gentleman or it too, and once more followed them till they entered gentlewoman, whose air and attire in the street would the door of a shabby-looking house, and disappeared have repelled the suspicion of poverty, retires to a fire-without his having found resolution or opportunity to less hearth, and lies down with a supperless stomach! address them. After walking up and down the street "Perhaps," thought Mr Cartwright, "she has been a little while, considering what he should do, he adinto the city to ask the assistance of some rich rela-vanced to the same door and knocked. "There is a tion, who has refused to aid her;" and the good man lady and a little girl living here," said he to a dirtyardently wished he could discover if that was the looking woman, who answered his summons. case. "Who knows but one of these five-pound notes "Them as I let in just now ?" said she. I have in my pocket might be of the most eminent service to her, and how well I could spare it!" But how was such a delicate mystery to be discovered? Had Mr Cartwright been alone with her, he would have made a bold effort to penetrate the cause of her affliction; but there were several other passengers in the vehicle, and it was therefore impossible to venture the slightest observation on her distress. All he could do was to renew his civilities to the child, whilst the unhappy mother sat with her head as much as possible averted from the company, every now and then lifting her handkerchief to her eyes to wipe away the starting tears as they began to steal over her cheek. "Poor thing!" sighed Mr Cartwright, as they descended from the omnibus exactly at the spot where they had first joined it, and he looked out to observe which way they went. They turned down a narrow street, which led towards the river, and as Mr Cartwright caught a glimpse of the water at its extremity, it rather augmented the pain he felt at losing sight of the interesting stranger without having been able to make any effort towards alleviating her distress. He remembered how often those dark waters had proved the last refuge of the destitute-the resting-place of the wretched who could find no other; and when he sat down to his comfortable dinner at his hotel, his thoughts involuntarily reverted to the young mother and her child, and he felt, if poverty were really the evil under which she was suffering, how happy he would have been to have seen them seated at his table, and partaking of the abundant repast provided for himself. lent and kind-hearted man that Mr Cartwright felt It was not only because he was really a benevothus, but also because he stood more alone in the world than he liked. He had been married, but his wife had died childless; and he had neither brother nor sister, nor any relation alive, except his mother, a he reasonably expected to see fall before himself. worthy old woman, who resided with him, but whom Being rich, he did a great deal of good amongst the poor in his neighbourhood, and in his will he had made a benevolent disposal of his property; but he nevertheless often regretted that he had nobody to make happy with it, to whom he could be attached, and who could, in return, be attached to him; and thus, when distress presented itself before him in so interesting a form as that of the lady and her child, he could not help earnestly desiring to make further acquaintance with it. "Still, however," as he said, "there are many evils in the world besides poverty, and many for which I can do nothing; so I had better think no more about it." But he could not help thinking more about it; and for the few following days that he remained in town, when his business was over for the morning, he invariably found himself lounging along the Strand, and taking a turn, by the way, down the street that led to the river, in the vague hope of meeting the objects of his interest and curiosity. However, his wishes were not realised; he left London without seeing any more of them, and gradually the impression they had made faded from his mind.

Six months after this adventure, Mr Cartwright went to London again, and on precisely the same dividends, now he went to receive his January divierrand. He had before gone to receive his July dends. He put up at the same hotel, and stepped into the same omnibus, at the same hour, for the purpose of being transported to the bank; but what was his surprise when the omnibus was hailed at the very same spot in the Strand, and the same lady and child got into it! "They are poor," said he to himself, at the first glance, for the difference of their attire betrayed their secret. Their dresses were not only shabby, but insufficient for the season; and the hollow cheeks of the mother, and the faded roses of the child, told a tale of suffering and want that could not be questioned. "Providence seems to throw them in my way," thought Mr Cartwright; "and this time it shall not be in vain." But the lady, apparently weighed down by her afflictions, never raised her eyes, and did not see him, or, if she did, did not recognise him; whilst his attempts to make friends with the child were less successful than on the former occasion. The young spirit was nipped by penury; and cold and want had already clouded the smooth brow, and dimmed the lustre of the laughing eyes. "I must not lose sight of them," thought Mr Cartwright, as they approached the place where they had before left the omnibus; so when the vehicle stopped to put them down, he descended also. They took the same road they had done on the former occasion, and he followed them, desiring to address them, but not knowing how to set about it; till after a little while they entered a

"I believe I do; and I'll thank you to let her know that a gentleman of the name of Cartwright wishes to speak to her. Perhaps she may not recollect me, but tell her I'll explain to her who I am, if she'll do me the honour to admit me."

After a short absence, the woman returned, and desired him to follow her; and having led him up two pair of stairs, ushered him into the presence of Mrs Sinclair. Everything in the room bespoke poverty, and the dresses which the mother and child had worn something more homely and faded, clearly betokening half an hour before had already been changed for that those which had struck him as being so shabby and insufficient, were, nevertheless, the best their reduced circumstances had left them.

"I must begin, madam," said Mr Cartwright, when an intrusion which nothing could excuse but the mothe woman had closed the door, "by apologising for tive that occasions it." To this exordium the lady bowed, and a faint blush suffused her cheek; whilst the little girl, who evidently recognised her fellowtraveller, crept to his side and laid her hand upon his knee, whereupon he lifted her up and asked her if she remembered him.

he.

"Yes," said she. "You were in the omnibus." "But did you ever see me before to-day ?" inquired

"No," said the child.

"Ah! it is too long for you to remember; and probably even you, madam, may not recollect that six months ago we met under exactly the same circumstances as those of this morning."

"I fancied I had seen you before, sir," said Mrs Sinclair," but I had quite forgotten where."

"Well, madam," continued Mr Cartwright, "that was not the case with me; I remembered the circumstance very well, and was extremely glad of the accident that gave me an opportunity of discovering your residence, which I often regretted I had neglected to do the first time we met."

"Do you know me, sir ?” inquired Mrs Sinclair, surprised at this appearance of interest from a stranger. "No, madam," replied Mr Cartwright. "I never last July. But as we may beat about the bush all day, saw you, to my knowledge, till we met in the omnibus and lose a great deal of time if I do not explain clearly the motive of my visit, I shall beg leave to come directly to the point, first apologising for the liberty I am going to take, and requesting a patient hearing."

Mrs Sinclair having bowed her acquiescence, Mr Cartwright hemmed two or three times to clear away the embarrassment he felt on entering upon so delicate a subject as the lady's distresses. He then proceeded to narrate how much he had been interested by the appearance of herself and of her child, and moved by the evident affliction under which she was labouring. "Whether it be true, madam," said he, "that we are occasionally drawn towards others by particular sympathies, I know not, but certain it is, that I was more than commonly affected by your unhappiness, and more than commonly anxious to contribute towards its relief, if it were in my power. But having no means of ascertaining your name, or anything respecting your situation, I was obliged to leave town without accomplishing my wishes; but the singular coincidence which has again brought us together, leads me to hope that I am destined on this occasion to be more fortunate."

As such instances of disinterested benevolence are

not common, though we believe they are not quite so rare as the world supposes, Mrs Sinclair raised her eyes to the face of her visitor, as if she were seeking the key to his generosity. The open, honest, manly

along." And they stole out of the room, softly closing the door behind them.

countenance of the country gentleman was one that could well stand the test of scrutiny. "I mean nothing but what I say," continued he. "I am a plain Mrs Sinclair looked at her child, who fortunately man, and make straight to the object of my discourse. still slept soundly; then she slipped out of bed, and, There are many afflictions for which human aid can gently opening the door, listened to discover which do little, but there are others which it can alleviate, way the men were gone. She knew nothing of the and one of these is, not being altogether well off-house, neither where the servants slept, nor where her in short, poverty. If I am not wrong in supposing host or hostess slept, for she had seen nothing but the that pecuniary embarrassments form some part of rooms below, and her own bed-chamber; but presently your distress, pray, confide in me, and give me an a slight creaking of a stair satisfied her that there opportunity of doing what will confer on myself the were footsteps ascending to the floor above; so she greatest satisfaction." crept after them. The thieves entered a room to the right; she approached the door, hesitating what to do, uncertain whether any one slept there, and afraid of uselessly sacrificing her own life if she discovered herself too soon; but in a moment more the voice of Mr Cartwright saying, "Who's there?" satisfied her there was no time to lose, and she pushed open the door. At the sound of this unexpected disturbance, both the men turned suddenly towards her, whilst Mr Cartwright jumped out of bed, and seized the one nearest to him by the arms. The other, on seeing this attack made upon his companion, lifted up his knife with the intention of plunging it into the breast of the man they came to murder, when Mrs Sinclair darted forwards, and seizing the robber by the arm, exclaimed, "Oh, James! for mercy's sake spare the friend and benefactor of your child!" "Charlotte!" ejaculated the man, confounded at so unexpected a meeting; "what has brought you here?" "We were starving, James," replied Mrs Sinclair, "I and your child, and the charity of this good man has saved us. Oh, spare him for our sakes, as well as for your own!"

The tears started into Mrs Sinclair's eyes; she blushed, and turned pale, and hesitated. "However painful it may be, sir," she said, "it would be folly to attempt to deny that I am poor; everything you see around me attests the meagreness of my resources; and although I have other and great troubles, yet I will own that the most pressing at this moment is poverty. But what reason have I, sir, to hope that a stranger will afford me the assistance that my own connexions deny me? Why should I intrude my distresses on you? What claim have I on your bene

volence?"

"Every claim, madam," replied Mr Cartwright; "at least so my feelings tell me ; and of this I am certain, that your declining my assistance would give me more pain than, I think, you would be willing to inflict on a person who desires to serve you;" and in order to invite her confidence, he next proceeded to inform her who he was, and how he was situated; and, in return, she told him that she had married a young man who was a clerk in a public office, but that he had forfeited his situation through misconduct; that for sometime she had lost sight of him altogether, and that, with him, her means of subsistence had ceased, except what she had been able to earn by needlework, and a very small half yearly allowance which was paid her by a relation in the city. "It was on my way to receive that money," she said, "that I had the good fortune to meet you in the omnibus."

"And you do not know where your husband is ?" said Mr Cartwright.

No," replied she, "I do not; and I fear he has too much reason to keep out of sight. On the day I first met you, last July, I heard very afflicting intelligence with respect to him, when I went into the city;" a communication which recalled to Mr Cartwright the remarkable augmentation of grief he had observed in her countenance when she stepped into the omnibus the second time.

"Come along, Bob !" said the man, whom the reader will by this time have discovered to be the unfortunate woman's husband; "this affair won't do;" and pushing his companion before him, he moved towards the door. There he stopped, and turning round to Mr Cartwright, who stood an amazed spectator of this scene, he said, "Sir, she has saved your life! Take care of her and the child."

"I will," said Mr Cartwright, with an earnest expression, and the robbers descended the stairs, and in a moment more left the house as they had entered it, with their hands unstained by blood, and without the booty they had been induced to come in search of, from knowing the object of Mr Cartwright's journey to London.

not transpire, she was spared the infamy that would have recoiled upon herself and her child from the disclosure of his crimes. We need scarcely add that Mr Cartwright fulfilled his promise to the uttermost. Mrs Sinclair ended her days in peace and contentment at Uphill, which, at the death of Mr Cartwright, became the property of her daughter, who has been many years herself a happy wife and mother, having married a young clergyman of elegant accomplishments and exemplary piety.

Mrs Sinclair never saw her unhappy husband again. Some time afterwards she learned from her relation in the city, that he had been convicted of a burglary, As space cannot be afforded here to detail the pro-and was transported for life; but as his real name did gress of the intimacy and confidence that grew up between Mr Cartwright and Mrs Sinclair, we must content ourselves with saying, that, having satisfied himself that she was well-worthy of the interest he was disposed to feel in her fortunes, he not only relieved her immediate distresses, but invited her and her child to accompany him into Leicestershire on a visit, intending to keep them there as long as it should be found agreeable to both parties. His mother, therefore, having been duly prepared for the arrival of these new inmates, the three started from London by the mail, and without accident reached Uphill, the comfortable residence of Mr Cartwright, where they met with a glad reception from his aged relative. The contrast between the luxury and abundance to which they were

SOME RECENT EXPERIMENTS IN

MESMERISM.

THE Phrenological Journal for October presents,

confined for eighteen months to bed. While she was in the magnetic trance, he applied his finger successively to various organs, and willed that they should be excited; in the majority of cases, the result immediately followed. "Thus," he says, "the finger applied to Imitation produced the most splendid mimicry it is possible to conceive. The words and gestures of friends were copied in the most exact manner. Anecdotes which had been forgotten by all the members of the family were repeated in a way that brought the circumstances instantaneously to their recollection, notwithstanding many years had elapsed." The excitation was banished in each case by a wave of the hand over the organ. "The organs," he adds, "remained active even after the patient had resumed her natural state. This was so marked, that the attendants have frequently requested me not to demagnetise the organ of Benevolence, because, when this was allowed to continue active, she was so much more kind and affectionate."

In December, similar experiments were for the first time made in America by Dr Buchanan of Louisville. Since then, they have been tried by others in different parts of the United States, particularly in New York and Philadelphia. The Journal gives an extract from a letter dated from the last mentioned city in May of this year, relating an experiment to which the writer was witness, and in which all the parties were of such character as yielded assurance of the most perfect good faith on their parts. A Mr N. being thrown into the somnambulistic state, the experimenter put his finger in succession on parts of the head of the former, corresponding with some of the phrenological organs. The same results as those above detailed followed. "It was not a little amusing," says the writer of the letter, "to see the lofty air of SelfEsteem and expression of contempt for others quickly succeeded by the deferential manner and language of Vanity, the endearing expressions and gestures of Love of Children, the animation of Adhesiveness, the rude boisterousness and preparation for fight of Combativeness, the mimic drawing of the bowie knife and reckless disregard of life of Destructiveness. In like manner were developed, and with great vivacity of expression and manner, the manifestations of the faculties of Tune, Colour, Order, Weight, Form, and Locality. Mr N., who is very fond of music, imitated various sounds as of the horn, and the movements of rapid and emphatic fingering of, and as if sweeping over, the piano-forte; and at last, so great was his delight, that he exhibited it by sundry odd gestures, one might say contortions, with accompanying vocal sounds. But most extraordinary was the simultaneous manifestation of two faculties of very different natures, such as Covetousness and Conscientiousness, or Combativeness and Conscientiousness. Under the impulse of Combativeness, he was raised on the ground, had, in idea, a dagger drawn, and threw himself into a most menacing attitude; when, on Conscientiousness being touched, his whole manner underwent a change; he drew his before extended and uplifted hand quickly to his breast, thrust away then rapidly his supposed weapon, and buttoned up quickly his coat. The gradual unfolding of the feeling of Acquisitiveness, from the moment when he first saw something in view-bags with strings twisted round them, and his knowledge then of their contents, with a desire of possession, up to an appeal to his companion, not without danger appropriate the money to their own use, was a natural and fine piece of acting, if we were to regard it in that light. So, also, was his quickly dropping the money, and his expressions of misgiving at the act when Conscientiousness was touched.

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now introduced, and the privations their indigence without any opinion of its own, some accounts of whom he supposed to be present, whether they could

had long imposed on them, were sensibly felt by the strangers, as they seated themselves at the well-served dinner table on the day of their arrival; whilst the benevolent host and hostess were intensely gratified by so favourable an opportunity of exercising their hospitality. Thus, in friendly discourse over the cheerful fire, and with much enjoyment to all parties, the first evening passed rapidly away, and at an early hour, being somewhat fatigued with their journey, the

travellers retired to their beds.

It was not known to Mrs Sinclair; but the room to which she was conducted was the one that, before his journey to London, had been occupied by the master of the house. As it had a particularly warm and pleasant aspect, he had directed in his letter that it should be appropriated to the visitors, and another prepared for himself; and this was accordingly done. After returning thanks to providence for having raised them up such a friend in the hour of need, and having invoked blessings on their benefactor's house, the mother and her child stretched themselves to sleep in the good man's bed.

recent experiments in mesmerism, which seem capable of interesting a wider circle of readers. It appears that, towards the end of last year, mesmerists in England and America made the discovery, or believed themselves to have made the discovery, that, while a patient is in the sleep-walking state, or magnetic trance, it is possible for the practitioner to operate upon the various organs of the brain as these are distinguished in the system of Dr Gall-thus producing special mental manifestations according to the special organ which may be operated upon. We shall here endeavour to give a condensed view of the doings of these gentlemen, merely as something which may gratify immediate curiosity.

It was on the 7th of October that the first excitation of a cerebral organ in a magnetic patient was considered to have taken place. J. W. Gardiner, Esq., then having a female patient in the sleep-walking state, played a few notes on a small musical instruIt was a sound sleep they fell into; the journey, ment, which caused her to wave her head from side to the change of air, the well-appointed couch, and the side in the time of the music. He then sounded the peace of mind resulting from the change in their for- instrument without attention to harmony, when the tunes, naturally disposed them to rest, and Mrs Sin-patient was observed to shudder and appear distressed. clair's anxious thoughts had reposed in deep slumber Interrogated as to the cause of this, she said she was for some hours, when she was suddenly aroused by a in pain; and, asked where the pain was, she placed a sound as of something falling in the room, and, on finger of each hand on the organ of Tune on one side opening her eyes, she beheld two men, one of whom of the head. C. B. Mansfield, Esq., practising at Camwas standing with his back towards her at an old bridge, in December, upon a gentleman unusually susbureau, the lid of which he had just let fall, whilst ceptible of the magnetic influence, found that he could the other, who had a knife in his hand, was in the act operate in like manner upon a special organ. The of turning away from the bed, over which, a moment patient was taking his dinner, and indulging in a before, he had been bending. "Come along," said the strain of comicality, to the great amusement of those latter, in a low hurried voice to his companion; "the around him, when Mr Mansfield touched the organ of old man's not here-we must look further-there's a the Ludicrous, with the intention of arresting his flow woman and a child in the bed-come along, lest they of humour; instantly his conversation became grave. should wake;" and he drew his companion away. Other organs are stated to have been acted upon in "Are you sure they're asleep?" asked the other. like manner. Another mesmerist, the friend of these "Quite sure," answered the first. "Quick !-come gentlemen, had a patient, a young lady, who had been

Mr N. said that he remembered much that had transpired in his magnetic state. His manners and deportment are reserved, and he is quite diffident and averse to exhibition, and to practical jokes or rough mirth of any kind." The writer adds, that experiPhiladelphia, and he instances the case of a young ments have been performed upon thirteen persons at lady who was quite unacquainted with the presumed locality of the cerebral organs.

In the course of the spring and summer of the present year, various gentlemen in England have pursued this line of investigation. Mr Brookes of Birmingham has made several private exhibitions in London, the patient being a young female servant of his own, who is said to have been cured of epileptic fits and insanity by what is called a course of mesmerism. The Journal contains a letter of a correspondent giving an account of a series of exhibitions of this girl, to which he was witness. "She appeared," he says, "to be about twenty years of age, of a nervous and rather unhealthy appearance, and extremely modest and timid demeanour." Mr Brookes was morally certain that she knew nothing whatever of the system of Gall. It was the practice of this experimenter only to hold his fingers within about an inch of the head, instead of touching it. It was arranged, says the letter-writer, that the organs to be mesmerised should not be mentioned in hearing of the patient, but that he should write them on slips of paper, and hand these to Mr Brookes. It was also agreed that no leading questions should be put to the girl, but only these two, "How do you feel?" and "What are you thinking of?" At the exhibition now to be detailed, one other gentleman was present. The girl was, in about ten minutes, thrown into mesmeric sleep, or coma, from which she was brought by pattings and shakings into the state in which a con

versation can be carried on, when there could be no doubt of her condition being peculiar, as the pupils of her eyes were expanded so as to occupy the whole space of the iris-a state in which, it may be remarked, there can be no vision.

"Wishing to witness the effect on the small convolutions of the knowing organs, I wrote down 'Form,' showed it to the other stranger, and handed it to Mr Brookes. He incidentally stated-as an answer to one objection, namely, that the mesmeriser's willing a particular manifestation, may, from what is known of mesmerism, produce it by mesmeric sympathy-that manifestations sometimes came out which he did not will, in consequence of a neighbouring organ being excited. This happened in the present mesmerisation of Form, for Size was put into activity. I placed myself so as to see, with the strictest watchfulness, all that Mr Brookes did, and to hear all that he said to his patient, or she answered to him. She sat, and he stood without in any way touching her. Mr Brookes's fingers were, for about a minute, held half an inch from Form, being very silently brought near. To the question, 'What are you thinking about?' she answered, I am in the Park; I see many people and pretty things. I see such a handsome face; but everything is big (Size excited). I am big myself; my hand is so large.' Here I wrote Weight,' feeling a peculiar interest to observe, from the manifestation, whether that much-disputed organ was rightly located and named. Mr Brookes's fingers shifted silently onwards over it, and almost instantly the patient of herself repeated, 'I am so big; and oh! so heavy.' She now showed considerable agitation and alarm, and seized hold of Mr B., saying, 'Oh, my weight will break the floor! I shall fall; I am falling! The next organ, Colour, having been influenced without Mr B.'s intention, nosegays, or, as she called them, posies, appeared to her 'beautiful flowers, but so large and so heavy-oh, they will fall upon and crush me; they are so big and so heavy, they will hurt me; they are flying over me; a cat or a dog is flying over me, and will fall and hurt me!' Mr B. diminished the mesmeric influence by a rapid movement of his hand over the organs, as if brushing flies from the face; and which seemed to have been mesmerised when Form Form, Size, Weight, and Colour, with Individuality, and Size were approached, all at last acting together, became tranquil, and ceased to manifest themselves. As the patient had hitherto been in perfectly good humour, I wrote Destructiveness' for the next experiment. Mr B.'s fingers were for a minute or two held to the organ. A cross expression came over the patient's countenance. To the usual question, she answered, with considerable temper, Don't bother me; I could stamp my foot; I feel very angry,' showing at the same time the quick movements of anger, clenching the hands, &c. As a contrast, Benevolence was influenced, when the countenance relaxed into good humour and gentleness, and all the natural language of irritation was gone. "How do you feel? Very well; very happy; I would wish all to be happy.' Another contrast was suddenly tried in Self-Esteem; the change was striking. The expression assumed was proud and repulsive. To the question, What are you thinking of? the answer was, Why do you speak to me? You insult me.' When asked how, she answered, 'Speaking to me insults me.' Explain yourself. I won't explain; that would be making myself less than you. I am above you; I will not condescend to explain; it is not worth my while.' Naturally, the girl is remarkably humble and respectful to her master. Veneration was suddenly mesmerised, as if another note of the instrument had been struck-and she became silent, and no longer haughty in her expression and attitude. What are you thinking of?' was repeatedly asked before she answered, her manner being that of some absorbing meditation. At last she replied, I am thinking of another world.' 'Well,' said Mr B., no one is proud or conceited there.' 'No! God views us all alike. We should bow to him, but we don't.' Mr B., What made you fancy that you were above me? I suppose you think yourself as good as the queen? Answer, 'The queen and the beggar are the same in the sight of God.'

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Tune was mes

merised as she was talking. For a considerable time
no result followed; but at last the patient began to
sing; we recognised one of Watt's hymns, with a
hymn tune. The voice was musical and sweet, but
subdued, as of one singing in sleep. She continued to
sing much longer than we wished, and was with diffi-
culty stopped. Alimentiveness was next called forth,
and soon every feeling and thought was gone but this
one. Mr Brookes afterwards told me that voracity
had been a feature of the girl's insanity, and that,
when excited, the organ always acted morbidly,
and continued to act long after she waked. It did
so on this occasion. It first showed itself by an
angry inquiry-for its neighbour, Destructiveness,
was roused by sympathy-Why she did not get
her dinner? Mr B., Dinner! why, you have just
had your breakfast.'
I am very hungry-I have
two stomachs.' Mr B., Will you have some po-
tatoes?" "Yes, yes! (earnestly) I could eat a whole
peck, and more when that is done.' I suggested beans
and bacon, which, without my knowledge, is, it seems,
a very favourite food with Sarah. Instantly her de-
mand for beans and bacon was vehement; other
things were suggested, but nothing but beans and
bacon was listened to." [On a subsequent occasion,

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when Alimentiveness was excited, the girl sponta-
neously called for beans and bacon, and, when
awakened, so urgent did she continue to be for this
dish, that Mr Brookes was obliged to procure it for
her. "He resolved never to awaken beans and bacon
again."] "This, the most troublesome organ yet
tried, was for the time quieted by much waving over
and blowing upon it. Îmitation being then written
down-Mr B., What are you thinking of? Answer,
My mother. If I were at home, she would give me
beans and bacon-that tow would, mother' (imitating
the provincial language of her mother). She then
spoke like Tommy Addison' of her village, and next
like the minister, when he preached. As she laughed
when she did all this, we concluded that Wit or
Laughter had been influenced at the same time
with Imitation. Sarah was then awakened, looked
bewildered, and then abashed; and said, when asked,
that she had no recollection of anything that had
passed during her mesmeric state."

Here, for the present, we leave this curious sub-
ject. To many, we are sensible, it must appear
foolishness; but why to such persons should it not
appear equally absurd to suppose that a small bit of
opium will produce gorgeous dreams, or a supper of
pork griskins the night-mare? The brain is un-
doubtedly the organ of the mind, and a most wonder-
ful instrument it is. Its action appears to be con-
nected with that subtle agent which takes the various
names of galvanism, magnetism, &c., but is proved to
be fundamentally one thing. Why, therefore, may
it not be supposed liable to be operated upon in the
way described? It is easy to meet such subjects with
scepticism and scoffing; but a genuine lover of natural
investigation, and one who is at the same time candid
and honest, would be more likely to see in them traces
of some important though unascertained natural laws,
and disposed, for that reason, to give them the benefit
of a careful inquiry.

GEIKIE'S ETCHINGS.

racteristic subjects for his pencil. His main field was Edinburgh, and its environs; and there he was indefatigable in picking up all kinds of oddities. His execution was surprisingly rapid; " and, indeed," says his biographer," so great was the facility and rapidity with which he used his crayon, that it was by no means an uncommon thing for him to catch the contour of odd figures, or of remarkable features, together with all the raciness of character which they exhibited, whilst he was walking by the side of the originals in the streets.

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An anecdote regarding one individual, who makes a very conspicuous appearance among the characters to be found in his etchings, is worth relating, as an example of the difficulties he encountered, and the risks to which he was sometimes exposed in his attempts to gratify the ardent desire he had to collect the portraits of such people whom he saw in the street, whose figures, features, or general appearance, were of a description calculated to strike his humorous fancy. The man to whom we now allude, was a porter in the Grassmarket, somewhat pot-bellied, and with that projection and hang of the nether lip, and elevation of nose, that gives to the human countenance a certain air of vulgar importance. In this subject it seemed to say, though I'm a porter, I'm no fool.' Geikie had made various attempts to get sufficiently near this man to sketch his figure and physiognomy. Day after day he haunted his intended victim, without obtaining the least chance of him. At length, however, he thought he had caught a favourable opportunity. But he had hardly taken out his sketch-book from his pocket, and sharpened his pencil, when the porter perceiving him, and suspecting his intention, immediately moved away, and plunged into the crowded market. Like a young Highland sportsman, who wishes to get a shot at an old fox, who may have dodged into cover, Geikie, with his pencil and paper in hand, prowled about, now worming his way through the crowd after his prey, and now stealing around the outskirts of it, watching for a glimpse of him. The porter all this time was on his guard, and took especial care to keep THE etchings of the late unfortunate Mr Geikie are behind some knot of farmers or corn-dealers, so as to at length issued in a complete form, along with the defy the attempts of his young persecutor, until at last tion by Sir Thomas Dick Lauder, Bart.* Geikie was illustrative letter-press, and a biographical introduc- when the market began to thin, and his hopes of defeating the foul intention against him ebbed away a true child of genius, and to what height his industry abused and threatened his tormentor with great fury with the lessening crowd, he lost all patience, and would have carried him, if blessed with hearing and both of words and of action. The first were of course speaking, may be inferred from his wonderful efforts lost upon the poor deaf lad, although there was no misunder the melancholy deprivation of these faculties. taking the meaning shake of the porter's mutton fist. Geikie we write more particularly for the informa- But as this only threw his subject into a more tempting tion of southern readers-was a native of Edinburgh, attitude, the artist's fervour for his art rendered him his father being a respectable perfumer in that city, utterly regardless of consequences, and he proceeded and he was born in Charles's Street (1795), in the This so enraged the porter, that, roaring like an infuto the exercise of his pencil with the utmost enthusiasm. midst of the suburban scene in which Sir Walter riated bull, he rushed at him to give him immediate Scott spent the earliest years of his life. When chastisement, and before Geikie had time to apply the nearly two years of age, a nervous fever destroyed point of the pencil to the paper, he was obliged to fly his organs of hearing, and consequently he was to save his bones from being beaten to mummy. doomed to the calamity of being ever afterwards Though well built for carrying weight, the porter was deaf and dumb. Thrown thus very much on his of a mould that rendered him anything but fit for ing was eagerly practised. own powers of amusement, a natural taste for draw-racing; and as Geikie had by much the heels of him, While yet a child, as he stopped every now and then as he fled, like a Parhis biographer informs us, his turn for this delight-thian, up the Grassmarket, to have a shot behind him ful recreation was manifested in " attempts to cut with his pencil at his pursuer, who was puffing, and out in paper representations of the objects which came blowing, and labouring after him. But this only the within his observation. He began also from his ear- more excited the fury of the porter, and made him liest youth to sketch figures with chalk on floors and strain every nerve to catch him, so that not only walls, and from these attempts he gradually advanced could Geikie make no use of the drawing implements to the employment of pencils and paper. Having once which he carried in his hand, but the porpus in puracquired the use of these implements, he made fre- suit of him so pressed upon him, that he in his turn quent sallies from the city into the outskirts, where, was compelled to look out for some place into which with the fullest enjoyment, he would fill his sketch- he could escape for temporary shelter. Fortunately book with picturesque subjects of every description, an open stair, common to the doors of all the various animate as well as inanimate. Often has our infor- inhabitants who occupied its respective flats, most mant accompanied him whilst on such rambles, and opportunely presented itself. Into this he rushed, frequently has he stood beside the young artist, where, and the porter conceiving that he had retreated into perched upon a wall, or some other elevated place out some of the dwellings it contained, halted in the street of reach of danger from wheeled vehicles, he would opposite to it, and putting his arms behind him, under busy himself with his pencil in catching, with all that the tails of his coat, he stood panting and heaving till truth and accuracy so uniformly displayed by his he recovered his breath, with a full resolution of waitsketches, those traits of feature and of character, with ing till his enemy should venture forth from that the union and combination of which his genius after- which he believed might be merely a temporary place whole life. Observing that his bias was thus so unewards so luxuriantly recreated itself throughout his of concealment in the house of some acquaintance. Now was the time for Geikie, and he was not the man quivocally manifested, his father was desirous to give to lose it. Fortunately there was a window in the it every encouragement; and, accordingly, when Geikie first flat of the common stair, through which he had was about the age of fourteen, he was sent to study a most perfect view of his subject, though its dirt1812, he was admitted into the drawing academy estaunder Mr Patrick Gibson, and in May of the year begrimmed panes of glass completely concealed his own figure from view. With a few touches of his blished by the Honourable the Commissioners of the powerful crayon, he very quickly made the man his Board of Trustees for the encouragement of Scottish own property. This was all very well, but how was Manufactures, a school which has been the nursery he to escape from the porter, who still continued to for so many artists who have done honour to Scotland, stand doggedly, like a sentry on his post, surveying and through whose works the taste displayed in the all the windows of the huge tenement long after industrial arts has been so much improved." Geikie would have most willingly seen him relieved from it. There was no alternative for the poor artist but to remain a prisoner in the common stair until the porter should give up his watch, and this he did not do for some hours, until his patience being at last exhausted, or some job occurring to his mind that called him away, he slowly and unwillingly retired, grumbling as he we went, cursing the object of his wrath, and vowing vengeance, and then, Geikie stealing forth from his hiding-place, hurried homewards as fast as he could run, and without once looking over his shoulder."

let, Geikie became a painter by profession; but a
Being in time initiated in the mysteries of the pal-
radical deficiency as to colouring, and likewise as to
taste, or more properly a want of any great percep-
tion of the truly elegant in art, and for which his
physical disabilities sufficiently account, limited the
scope of his pencil, and, following the bent of his broad
humour, he addressed himself to the etching of pieces
such as have now appeared. In thus following a line
of art not unlike that pursued so successfully by
Cruikshank, he was continually on the watch for cha-

* Edinburgh: J. Stewart. 1842.

The career of this ingenious and amiable being was soon to be brought to a close. Failing to make known

an ailment which affected him till it was too late, he sunk under the disease, and died August 1, 1837, at the age of forty-one.

is there reduced to a science, leaving nothing uncertain but the seasons, and which, affecting all nearly alike, do not materially affect the uniformity I speak of.

The series of this unfortunate artist's productions The present season has been remarkably favourable in has extended to fifteen numbers, each containing sevethe Lothians, as a whole, though somewhat too dry. The ral etchings along with characteristically written illus-wheat would average about five quarters to the acre; trations from the pens of various of our northern lumi- would sometimes be difficult to point out a square yard and in the seventy or eighty acres on the same farm, it naries; and a more interesting work could not well which carried more or fewer ears than the rest of the be pointed out to the lovers of humour and patrons field. The farms are divided into fields of from twenty to fifty acres each; the hedges are clipt low and thin, and the ditches covered in, so as to occupy as little space as possible. There are no trees in the hedge-rows, and few furrows in the land, all being laid down flat; and thus, between one thing and another, the entire area of the farm is made productive, and the expense of fences and gates is reduced to a minimum.

of artistic merit.

AN ENGLISHMAN'S TOUR AMONG SCOTCH FARMERS.

THE method of conducting agricultural operations in the Lothians, or counties of Haddington, Edinburgh, and Linlithgow, is allowed, we believe, to be the best in Scotland, and has long served as a model for the

farmers of other districts. Whether the Lothian husbandry is superior to that of Norfolk and a few other highly improved quarters of England, we are unable to say, but it is gratifying to know that English agriculturists are beginning to visit the shores of the Frith of Forth, in order to acquaint themselves practically with the mode of farming there so successfully pursued. The latest account we have seen of an English farmer's tour of inspection, is one written by Mr Robert Hyde Greg, an intelligent agriculturist of Hertfordshire, and communicated by him in a letter to the editor of the Manchester Guardian. Both that Scotsmen may know what a stranger thinks of their proceedings, and that Englishmen may have an idea of how our farmers conduct their affairs, we beg to make the following extract from Mr Greg's letter:

"It would be uninteresting to the general reader, were I even competent to do it, which I am not, to enter minutely into details; those capable of understanding them should visit the country; and whether they do so on a tour of profit or amusement, they will be most amply repaid.

The general conviction which remains upon my mind is this, that with a system equal to that of the Lothians, established throughout England, landlords might receive double rents, farmers be rich and prosperous, and the country be rendered for two generations independent of foreign supplies, notwithstanding an abolition of all protective duties. I am confident the agricultural produce of England, Wales, and the west of Scotland, might be doubled, and that of Lancashire and Cheshire be tripled, and this without any material addition to the agricultural population.

The Lothian farms consist each of from 200 to 500 Scotch acres, the Scotch acre being one-fourth larger than the English statute acre; and I shall limit my remarks to the current acre of the Lothians, not knowing whether it is, or is not, the common measure of Scotland. Some few farms are rather smaller, chiefly those a few miles from Edinburgh, upon which it is not necessary to keep stock for the purpose of manure, and some few are larger, where stock are fattened for market; but a farm of 300 to 500 acres is, by common consent, the utmost which one farmer is thought capable of managing himself, just as a concern of 500 looms is considered, in this country, enough for the personal superintendence of one

man.

The farm-buildings are small, compact, and situated near the centre of the farm, and have always a steamengine of six to eight horse-power for thrashing and other purposes. The corn is put up in stacks in a stackyard, near the thrashing-machine; the stacks being of such a size as that one may furnish a day's work for the thrashing-machine. At the entrance of the farm-yard is the dwelling of the greeve, or bailiff; for every farmer keeps a bailiff, who superintends everything on the farm, and is cognisant of everything that goes in or out of the farm-buildings.

A fact which struck me much was, that the greeve received only one shilling a-week more than the ploughman. The explanation given me is equally remarkable, that every man on the farm has knowledge enough for the situation of greeve, but that every man has not the qualifications which fit him for the management of other men, or perhaps is not sufficiently trustworthy for so responsible a situation. That the requisite knowledge for conducting a farm of 500 acres may be had for 12s. a-week (the wages of a ploughman), and that 1s. extra will command the extra qualifications for a bailiff, speak eloquently what education has done for the peasantry of this part of Scotland. I found the greeves universally clever, acute, and sensible, and their minds open to what was passing in the world beyond the limits of their own farm or immediate neighbourhood.

The farmer's dwelling-house is generally a little in front of the farm-buildings, a neat, comfortable house, with kitchen and flower-garden attached.

The farmers themselves are men of much superior education, manners, and style of living to the possibly equally wealthy ones of the farming counties of England-even Lincolnshire and Norfolk-where the farms are of about equal extent with those of the Lothians. As a class, they would compare more with master manufacturers of Lancashire-so keen and pushing. Few of them are without a handsome phaeton for the use of the female members of their family; they are all of most hospitable habits; and I was informed that, excepting for a month at seed time, and the same at harvest, they have company at home or dine out at least three times a-week. One feature throughout the Lothian farms may be remarked -a great uniformity in the quality of the crops. Not as elsewhere, here a good farmer and there a bad one; here a failing crop, there a middling one; and here, again, a finer one; but nearly all the same, showing that farming

Another thing worth noting is, that permanent grass, either as meadow or pasture, is unknown, or nearly so; the only hay, or pasture, is derived from artificial grass, sown in the regular rotation of crop, and which remains two years down, and is then ploughed up and followed by oats. The crops of artificial grass were extremely heavy. I counted in one field of sixteen acres no less the land since the 1st of April. On another farm, a field than 234 sheep, from 150 to 200 of which had been on of the same size had on it 20 cows; and in both, the feed, chiefly white clover, was abundant, and of the finest quality.

The rent of the Lothian farms is from L.3, 10s. to L.7 per acre; and these high rents the farmers not only pay, but thrive upon; indeed, a more thriving set of men i never met with. They are enabled to pay these rents, and thrive, partly by the heavy crops arising from skilful cultivation, and partly by economy of management in every department. Actual wages, however, are as high as in England, namely, 10s. to 11s. a-week for a common labourer, 12s. for a ploughman, and 9d. a-day for women--ten hours to the day. As to the great amount of produce, it must be remembered that all the land is under the plough. Five quarters of wheat are reckoned a good average, but some fields turn out six to the acre. Ten or eleven quarters of oats, eight to ten tons of potatoes, and twenty-six to thirty tons of turnips, are reckoned good fair crops. Economy of management is shown in many ways:

1. In the position and quality of farm-buildings, in having no land lying idle or unproductive, and in the use of machines and horses, instead of manual labour, whereever circumstances admit of it.

2. By confining attention to as few points as possible. Thus, instead of buying stock to feed off the grass during the two years the land is seeded down, it is let off to stock-feeders or butchers, at generally about L.6 the acre per annum, and the farmer's attention and capital is thereby saved from distraction and division. They contract, in like manner, to supply turnips, or both stalls and turnips, &c., for the winter, at so much the ton for turnips, or at so much the head to the stock-feeder; and so the stock-feeder, in his turn, becomes limited to his own peculiar branch of business. The dairyman, in the same way, hires the fields in grass by the year, or for the summer, and contracts for his turnips during winter; thus attending to nothing but his cows, which, by-theby, he scrupulously milks three times a-day for at least half the year. In a similar spirit, also, instead of getting up his potatoes himself, and with a fork, as is done with us, the Lothian farmer sells his crop of potatoes at L.14 to L.20 per acre, according to the crop and state of markets, to a dealer. The farmer then turns up the potatoes with the plough; the dealer appears with a hundred women and children, and sacks and scales; and the whole crop is transferred from the field to the market, or shipped for London, in one-tenth the time, and at onetenth the expense, which would be required in England. 3. Economy in the use and keep of horses.-Such an abuse as three horses to a plough, except to the subsoil plough, is unknown. The universal complement for 100 acres I found to be two pair of horses, two ploughmen, and one labourer; the number of women and children varying with the particular crop, perhaps six or eight during the season.

few deep drains where springs actually show themselves, and which mode of draining is now, I believe, entirely abandoned by the best farmers. For minute directions on this and other branches of the subject, I refer to the book of Professor Low on Scotch husbandry, which is considered the best authority. I will merely remark, old furrows, not across them; and the drains themselves that it is advisable, in every case, to lay the drains in the should be from sixteen to eighteen inches deep. When made with stones, the top of the drain may be brought nearer the surface than is safe with tiles, and also when the land is for permanent grass, than when intended for arable; but I believe the tops, even of stone drains on grass lands, should be at least twelve inches below the surface of the ground, and that tile drains, in arable land, should not approach the surface nearer than eighteen or twenty inches,

The sums spending at present in Scotland upon thorough draining are immense. It will be seen, in the following notes of the farms I visited, that one farmer had laid out L.1800 in thorough draining alone, during the two first years of his lease. I will now put down a few extracts from my notes of the farms I visited, and shall call them by different numbers, that the actual farms may not be recognised:

No. 1. Meadow land in small holdings---where the common sewers of the town discharge---one or two miles from Edinburgh, the grass constantly cut and taken into town for cows and horses; rent L.15 per acre.

No. 2. At two miles from town, with ample supply of town manure; potatoes and turnips carried daily into Edinburgh for sale; rent L.7 per acre.

No 3. Farm 340 acres; old lease of ten years lately took off L.18,000 to L.20,000, and has just bought a handexpired; old rent L.1700, or L.5 per acre. The farmer some estate in the neighbourhood, which he is improving. This farm is re-let, on a new lease for ten years, at a rent of L.2000, or L.6 per acre.

No 4. 250 acres, at three miles from Edinburgh; rent L.1000 to L.1200. Thrashing machine, with dressers and finishers, on most approved principle, made by Carlow, of Lenny Port, Corstorphine, Edinburgh; cost L.85, exclusive of geering; steam-engine, six horses' power, complete,

for L.120, of Edinburgh manufacture. Last year, the

crop of wheat on this farm reached six quarters to the acre, and the whole was sold at 80s. per quarter. Conhorses, including shoeing, geer, plough and cart repairs, tracts with blacksmith at L.3 per annum, for each pair of but no renewal. Laid by last year L.700, besides living.

Nos. 5 and 6. In one hand, or at least under one management. Last year and this together, has spent L.1800 in draining alone; this done with broken stones, which seem generally preferred; is not only cheaper, but more durable than tiles. When tiles are used, always put flats or pans for them to rest on. Draining here varies from 18 to 60 feet between drains.

For seeding down 1 bushel of rye grass, 8 lb. red clover, 4 lb. white, 4 lb. yellow, or trefoil--all per acre. If intended to lie down three years, or indeed two, reverses the quantities of red and white clover. Lets his grass, and contracts for sale of his turnips with a dairyman.

No. 7. 500 acres ; rent L.1750; seven miles from Edinburgh. Too far from town to benefit, like the other farms, and a stiffer quality of land; grows less potatoes and turnips, but very fine beans, and obliged to keep stock. General stock for fatting, three year old, Angus breed; but some cross of the Caithness cow and short-horn bull, quite fat at two years old. Best manure, half rape, half dung; only good when used with dung; buys whole cargoes of rape. The gentleman who farms this, and his two brothers, pay together L.4500 rent.

[Nos. 8 and 9 may be passed over as of less importance.] No. 10. A farm, or, we should call it, an estate, of 600 acres, lately purchased for L.70,000, without a single attraction of any kind but to a farmer. The proprietor has just laid out about L.5000 pounds in a new steading, or farm buildings, compact and complete, containing stalls for twenty-five horses, eight horse steam-engine, and every possible convenience for carrying on so large a concern. It contains numerous pens for stock-feeders, the farm to supply them with turnips for winter and grass for summer; but it is not intended, I was given to understand, to meddle with stock themselves, without necessity, folIn this small allowance of horses, it must be remem-lowing out the plan of attending only to one branch of bered that the whole 100 acres are arable, there being no business. permanent pasture. The winter-keep of the horses is a mixture of half-chopped straw, or chopped anything, and half-steamed turnips or potatoes; and this feed is found not only much cheaper than hay and oats, but the horses are kept in better condition, and enjoy better health. No horses could look in finer condition than they did, without exception.

All the Lothian farms are held on nineteen years' leases, and the rents wholly, or partly, corn rents, rising and falling with the yearly fluctuations of the price of corn. The tendency of the corn rent I conceive to be to throw fluctuations in the value of a farm-that arising from an alteration of corn-laws, for example-upon the landlord, instead of the tenant.

Without a long lease, the farmers would not lay out their capital in the free manner they now do; and with a long lease, they feel independent of their landlords, more as if they were the actual proprietors, and altogether hold themselves higher, and with good reason, than the most wealthy of our English farmers. In consequence of this independence, and part ownership, as it were, of their farms, men of much superior rank, education, and capital, engage in the business of farming, than is the case in England, or, indeed, than ever will be the case in England, under existing circumstances.

The foundation of all improvements in the Scotch farming is the system of thorough draining; and so essential is this considered, that most of the land is deemed unworthy of being farmed at all until it has undergone this operation. Thorough draining is a series of drains, of tiles or broken stones, made at regular distances, from fifteen to thirty feet or more apart, according to the nature of the soil, over the whole field. This may be called the new system of draining, as opposed to the old one of cutting a

The general course of cropping in the Lothians seems to be, wheat, after summer fallow, or not; turnips, or potatoes; barley; seeds, down for one, two, or three years, as circumstances vary; oats. When further from town manure, and land stiffer, a crop of beans and pease is taken. In the East Lothians we saw comparatively few potatoes, whilst in the West Lothians it appears to be the grand crop.

The best approximation I could come to, as to the division of the gross proceeds of a farm, gives-rent 33, expenses 47, and profit and interest 20 per cent.; total, 100 per cent.

I have thus endeavoured to give, in a somewhat unconnected way, the result of my observations on the Lothian farming, where high rents, high profits, and a well-paid and contented peasantry, are all seen combined in a pleasing union. There is as wide a difference between the system existing there, and in these parts of England, as between that pursued in the small detached spinning-mills of thirty years ago, and what is now practised in the firstrate factories.

It is an interesting question, but one I am not going to enter upon, how this improved system of cultivation can be introduced into England, particularly into our own and the neighbouring counties? Where are the landlords ready to grant a nineteen years' lease? Where the farmers of sufficient intelligence and capital to manage successfully 500 acres, and willing and able to lay out L.1000 to L.1800 in draining alone, during the two first years of their lease? Where the ploughmen educated enough to convert into bailiffs, on such farms, for an extra shilling a-week?

I am inclined to think the superior and more practical education of the Scotch has been at the bottom of the

improved state of things. Education has given the knowledge which has enabled them to apply their capital with success, and to extract from the landown er the long lease which enables them to invest their capital with safety, as

well as success."

and the clouds yet hang in one dark unseparated mass in the heavens. By the time we have reached the extremity of the heath, the fleecy vapours are seen slowly rolling up the sides of the mountains; we hear the rushing of the stream, as we descend the rugged pass which leads to it; while the sun is seen slowly breaking through the clouds of the east, going forth in that march which animates and gladdens all nature. Hav[A paper under the above title appeared in a deceased pro-ing, as quickly as my impatience will allow me, fitted

THE RECLUSE IN THE COUNTRY.

vincial periodical about twenty years ago. Lighting upon it by chance, we have been so much pleased with its placid old-gentle

manly tone and quaint pleasant semi-pastoral style, as to deem it worthy of being disinterred from its original situation. It is here presented in an abridged form]

my rod, chosen a pair of flies-perhaps the "greentail" or "yellow-watchit"-to suit the aspect of the day, and slipped on my wading-shoes, I give my line one or two careless throws, to free it from its folds, IT has been my favoured fortune to spend the greater and make it fall sweetly and softly in the stream; part of my life in the country. I succeeded in my and having folded back the sleeve of my coat from youth, by the death of my uncle, to a small but my wrist, I then put my best skill and dexterity into beautiful estate, upon which, throughout life, I have play. Were I here, sir, to describe to you the keen with little intermission continued to reside. It is abiding pleasure I feel while thus engaged in this situated in the west of Scotland, in one of those inter-most peaceful and delightful of all sports, your readers, mediate ranges of country, possessing few of the uni- I fear, would either not understand me, or regard my form and less inviting features of an agricultural dis- expressions as hyperbolical. I am then seen, my basket trict, but delightfully diversified by those picturesque swung beneath my left arm, slowly wading and deundulations of hill and plain, which mark the near scending the stream, and feeling, whilst the water approach to the more grand and majestic scenes of the beats against my limbs, a delicious and refreshing coolHighlands. In its general features, it partakes much ness. I am seen often crossing to opposite sides of the of a pastoral air; and when I wander, in a calm sum- river, that I may more dexterously throw my line into mer evening, amidst that singularly rich and varied the wished-for places; not, perhaps, into the stronger scenery which it displays, either carelessly tracing the and more rapid parts of the stream, but into the dark picturesque windings of one of its clear and swift whirls and eddies, occasioned by some projecting bank streams, or reclined upon some wooded bank, beneath or stone, or into that side of a pool which is overspread a dark and grateful shade, while I look out upon the by a deeper shade. I have often, in such a sowindings of the water, which, far in the distance, litude, yielding to my excursive and wandering streaks the richly-wooded valley with its silver gleam, thoughts, delighted to figure to myself, in the olden while the sun is seen in splendour, slowly sinking be- time, the accomplished Sir Henry Wotton, the elehind the majestic mountains of the west-I say I feel gant Cotton, and the venerable Walton, the darling disposed to doubt if any of your pastoral writers, in all friend of those great and pious men whom he so imtheir fablings of Tempe and Arcadia, have ever con-pressively perpetuates, finding in this peaceful sport a ceived a scene more rich and delightful to the eye, or healthful and refreshing relaxation from their labomore soothing and grateful to the heart. rious studies, or more harassing pursuits.

The family mansion in which I reside is one of very old erection, to which, as the wants or caprice of its successive owners have led them, a variety of additions have been made. Its site is delightfully romantic and beautiful, upon the summit of a somewhat steep and rugged eminence; and I confess, when I see my old fabric with its numerous and variously-disposed turrets-its broad and massive winding-stair in front -its tall and irregular chimneys, which shoot aloft into the air-its venerable windows, looking out in every variety of size and antiquity of shape, while several majestic trees, vigorous and luxuriant in their age, tower above the whole, with their far out-spreading and over-arching branches, I often think my old mansion a more picturesquely beautiful object, and that it harmonises more fittingly and impressively with the scene, than many of our more elegant and fairly-proportioned fabrics.

Like all true lovers of the country, I delight in gardening. My garden is spread out upon the irregular and sloping bank in front of my house. It looks towards the south, and the entrance towards it is by an old arched gateway, overgrown with briar and honeysuckle, which salute you as you enter with the rich diffusion of their sweets. I have been anxious that my garden should, at the same time, partake somewhat of the nature of an orchard. My fruittrees are not disposed in corresponding rows and succession, but fancifully thrown into groups, and occa sionally mingled with some rich and graceful forest trees. At the foot of the bank runs a rapid and clear rivulet, which still flows copiously, even amid the heats of summer. Its margin is thickly wooded, and here and there I have introduced an apple or plumtree, or several tall flowering shrubs, whose blossoms give additional beauty and animation to the more sober livery of the other forest-trees. When fatigued with my garden labours, I often retire from the noontide heat to the dark and grateful shade of this grove. There I hear the murmurs of the stream, hid by the luxuriant foliage around me, or through some remote opening seen stealing softly and swiftly along, like the report of a noble action, which its doer seeks not to reveal. Here, while the progress and varying appearance of every plant and tree interest me in a way which you cannot perhaps easily conceive, I derive health and recreation from those occupations which the changing seasons and nearly every month in the year present; and when the time advances for gathering in the produce of my orchard, while I shake my trees, and am pelted by a shower of my own Ledingtons or Pippins, and see my adventurous little boy perched high upon a branch, and stretching his hand to some apple desirable in his eye, and my daughters gathering the fruit as it drops, while my servants convey it in sacks and baskets to the garner, I feel some of those emotions of delicious and tranquil satisfaction which Rousseau, the most eloquent of moderns, has described in such glowing colours as experiencing himself when engaged in a similar occupation.

But the amusement in which, of all others, I take most delight, is that of angling, and especially that of fly-fishing, in which, you must know, I regard myself nearly as dexterous as old Isaac Walton, or his sporting friends, R. Roe, or "honest" Nat, who angled till he was ninety-five. The river is distant several miles, and can only be reached by threading the fields, and traversing a long range of wild heath. Having selected a day which promised to suit the sport, I set off, accompanied by my little boy, with the first dawn of the morning, while the dew lies heavy upon the grass,

When I have amused myself sufficiently-by which time, like all very keen anglers, the sun is generally declining in the west-I unscrew my rod, and deposit my hooks and lines in my pocket-book till another day. I then draw off my wading shoes, slip on a pair of soft warm lamb-wool stockings, and having thrown my basket (filled with fine trouts, from which the tails of some of the largest may be seen protruding) across my shoulders, my son and I proceed slowly homewards. As we approach the termination of our journey, we are generally met by my wife and daughters, who have become impatient for our return, by whom I am always relieved of my rod and basket; while my wife, insisting I look tired, makes me take hold of her arm; and as we proceed homewards, my young traveller having shaken off his fatigue, is recounting with much animation and satisfaction to his sisters the wonders he

has seen.

But there is another recreation more refined and elegant than either of these I have already detailed, and which, by its magic influence, has contributed to smooth and compose the troubles and anxieties of a long life. I allude to music, of which I am a passionate admirer, and in the practice of which, in my younger days, I used to be esteemed somewhat of an eminent proficient. This I have zealously and fondly encouraged among my children, as of all the arts perhaps the purest and most enchanting; as that which, while it vividly awakens, most richly and adequately satisfies the excursive longings of imagination, and which binds most closely and intimately in its willing bands the domestic circle. I speak here of music in its highest and truest acceptation; such as those who have best appreciated its astonishing capacities, and whose noblest and most felicitous exertions have increased the delightful range of its sway, have raised it to.

clear and distinct articulation, and a rapidity of exeMy eldest daughter plays the piano-forte with a cution and steadiness of time which, with little study, carry her through, with considerable power, the most excellent productions of the most valuable of the ancient and modern composers. My second girl, after much friendly altercation and zealous persuasion, I must allow, with my wife, I have myself taught the violin, from which she now draws, I can assure you, a very rich and mellow tone, and displays a very graceful and flowing bow-hand.

upon which I perform is the violoncello; and, like an old Maestro di Capella, while I play the fundamental bass, I have a scientific and delightful pleasure in watching the march and progress of the changing harmony, the gradual development, and final rich embellishment of the subject, and that delicious concinnity and graceful proportion of parts, which is happily and wonderfully preserved amidst all the delicate intricacies of invention and skilfully adjusted contrivance.

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In this way we are enabled to play, in concert, many of the best productions of Abel, Wagenseil, Bocherini; and among those more modern, Woelfe, Clementi, Haydn, and Mozart, and a whole host of others. When I meet among my collection of mus some piece which strikes me as peculiarly excel' ent,. but composed for other instruments, I often ' Jeguile the tedium of a winter day by remodelling its parts, to suit the more limited musical forces of our family circle. Or, while I stroll in my garden, or mend my tackle, or proceed slowly to the treating-stream, devise little airs and mottivos, which, under a fictitious name, often become favourites in some of the neighbouring families.

My literary pursuits are now more limited than they once were; and with respect to these, my taste, I fear, will appear to some of your readers nearly as antiquated as in music. As I do not read to become either an antiquary, a linguist, or a politician, and being free from the calls of peculiar and exclusive study, which a learned profession demands, my literary avocations, you may presume, are neither very deep nor very various. At an early period in life, I was, however, much devoted to an extensive range of literary study and pursuit, and my ardour and avidity carried me through the most esteemed productions in the European languages. Since then, however, this insatiate passion for excursive reading has gradually grown weaker within me; and, except the heroic romances of the Italians, the "Oberon" or "Idris" of Wieland, or some of his numerous novels, or the "Idylls" of Gesner, I now seldom, in reading, depart from the field of our own language. For I am now old enough to be convinced of the folly of exploring, with a never-tiring curiosity, the literary territory of other countries, for what, to him who can diligently seek, may be found in equal richness, beauty, and power, among the highlygifted authors of our own land. I am fond, enthusiastically fond, of poetry; not indeed of that ostentatiously splendid and elevated kind which seeks to command admiration, but rather of that which affects and wins upon me irresistibly by its unobtrusive and touching simplicity; of that of which our early dramatists exhibit such impressive examples, and of which I find a mine which never satiates, in the smaller pieces of Greene, of Withers, and innumerable detached passages of Old Daniel and Michael Drayton. Of that diversified scenes of nature, I have ever been a conpoetry which more exclusively describes the fair and stant and devoted lover. I do not so much mean that which is solely descriptive, in which the author is the sole prolocutor, as that which assumes dramatic form, and in which nature, lovely and inviting in herself, acquires a more interesting locality, and additional beauty and animation from those personages who move and act amidst her varied and contrasted

scenes.

In reading such pieces, I feel at once impressively that there is indeed a poetry which has its seat deeper in our nature, and touches, with a more irresistible hand, the chords of our affections, than much which in these times has sprung up amongst us. My daughters sometimes on this point gently attempt to shake my scepticism, by citing some passages from our living poets; but as they have never yet heard the empty and dogmatical lispings of any of your famed bluestockings, I easily bring them back to a proper feeling Drayton or Spenser, striking, yet natural, and impresof nature and poetry, by repeating some passage from sively simple in its conception; rich and copious, and significant in that stream of living language which they so much love, and of which they so truly feel the pictures forth with vividness and power those scenes awakening influence.

By such a course of delightful study, I guard (as it seems to me) against that coldness and aridity of mind so apt to steal upon age; and, aided by the nature of my amusements, communicate to my fancy somewhat Your female readers may perhaps smile here at the of the buoyancy, and richness, and elasticity of youth. vulgarity of my taste. I can, however, assure such These great productions, in the delightfully vigorous delicately sensitive readers, that this instrument was frequent in the fair hands of the ladies in my younger rich and fragrant essences which communicate, withtone they impart to the mind, may be likened to those years; and I still recollect the animation and fasci- out exhaustion, to whatever approaches them, a balmy nating movements of elegance and grace which they and delicious odour; or to the soft and refreshing displayed in the use of it, forming a singular contrast dews which ascend from a full and gentle river, and to that stiff unvarying formality of manner which is which, amidst the parching heats of summer, diffuse unfortunately inseparable from the seated position of beauty and luxuriant bloom along its banks. But I now our piano-forte performers. I may, however, ingenu- hasten to draw this long, and, I fear, tedious communiously confess, that, in teaching my daughter the violin, cation, to a close. You may perceive that I feel too imI was perhaps unconsciously influenced by the recol-pressively the grandeur of nature to be forgetful of that lection of having heard, in my earlier youth, a beauti-humble and devout homage which is due from all to ful black-eyed girl, full of unconstrained and artless vivacity, play upon this instrument some airs and movements of Vivaldi, with an expression I have never forgotten; while her dark hair waved in rich and clustering ringlets on her bosom, and the motion of her white and delicately-formed arm displayed the most perfect beauty and gracefulness. When I look on my daughter, and listen to her while she plays, the memory of this delightful vision of my youth often tenderly and forcibly impresses me. The instrument

its Great Author. I have carefully inculcated on my children sound and just religious principles, and have endeavoured to inspire them with an ardent piety, constant and abiding in the heart, humble, yet which, in its humility, does not seek to lower or trample upon the glorious capacities of our nature.

During the summer months, I am almost constantly in the open air, when the weather permits, to which I chiefly ascribe the equable and vigorous health I have throughout life enjoyed. I am seldom at a loss

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