(FROM "Tait's MAGAZINE.) Sream CARRIAGES.- A short time back Mr. Walter Hancock, of Stratford, made the first public experiment with his new steam

The Rhine is born in the winter storm carriage. Several scientific gentlemen attended from Lonlon, and sixteen of them took their seats in the two bodies. The

Upon a bed of snow; carriage, guided by Mr. Hancock in front, was put in motion

He's suckled by the avalanche by his turning a lever connected with the steam-cock of the

Dissolved in summer's glow ;

He's cradled on the iron ledge hoiler, and proceeded through Stratford, up the hill, to the

of Constance' craggy wall, Green Man, on the Forest, at a steady pace of eight miles an hour. He then turned short, and returned to the factory with

And rocked to sleep on the roaring steep

Of wild Schaufbausen's fall. in forty minutes, after running about seven miles in the plea-" santest manner, and with a perfect sense of security to every

With such a sire-whạt wonder then

Our maids are fair, our sons are men. one in the carriage. - In fact, the experiment was successful, and we may henceforward look to the rapid introduction of a

Like a proud conqueror advancing, sife and greatly improved mode of travelling, leading to a very

Triumphantly he rolls, important revolution in the dome-tic economy of nations. The

The flood his chariot, and the waves, carriage in question has two bodies for sixteen passengers, and

His steeds of foam, controls. two seats for outside ones. This double body occupies a

Before his brow the forests bow : length of ten feet, and the engine-house and apparatus about

Attendant on his state, eight feet in the rear. The quantity of fuel consumed during

Oa either hand a giant band, this trip was about 24 bushels of coke, the fire being fed behind.

The chained mountains wait, The stock of water converted into steam was about three bar

Like captive kings—their sentinels rels, or 100 gallong. The height of the vehicle is pine feet, and

A thousand crested citadels. it stands three feet eight inches from the ground. The boiler

Johannisberg and Rudesheim, is of the description called tubular, and in this engine it consists of twelve chambers, each distinct, and formed of the best char

With grape-besmeared hand,

All reeking from their fragrant toil, coal iron, so that no explosion is probable, and if any took place, it could only be one of the chambers, and unconsequential. This

His proud cupbearers stand;

The tribute of a thousand keels carriage is built for the Greenwich road, and it will perform

He takes with high disdain, that journey in balf an hour. The facility of stopping is per

And borne before his rushing wheels, fect, and its traverses on a crowded road are effected with a far

He sweeps it to the main. greater surety than in any carriages drawn even by the best

Such are thy triumphs, Fasher Rhine ! trained horses. It turns in the shortest compass, and, in fact,

Who dare to boast such glorious line ? possesses all the best qnalities of a modern-bloilt carriage. Other carriages, with omnibus bodies, to carry fourteen passen

The Switzer on thy native mountains, gers, are now building, of somewhat lighter construction,

Thine eldest born is he; which are intended to travel about twelve miles an hour. As

He drinks thy first free-bubbling fountains; the engine is placed in the rear of the carriage, and the boiler

He drinks and he is free. and fire at the extremity, no inconvenience is experienced by

Would that thine after ampler waters, the passengers from doise, heat, or smoke, and the sensation is

Descending to the plain, precisely that of travelling in any other carriage.

If such their first ennobling spirit, New Comet.—Professor Harding of Gottingen, discovered

Like virtue could retain; a comet in the head of the serpent on the 29th of July. It is

"Tis pity sure thy boodless waves different fronı any of those announced this year. It is without Should e'er be soiled by lips of slaves. a train.

Slaves ! who are slaves ? bring me my sword ! Useful INSTRUCTION REGARDING THE MILKING OF Cows.

Have we not fought and bled ? -The operation of milking is performed differently in various

Yes : triumphed too 'gainst freedom's fues parts of the country. In some, the dairy-maid dips her hand

Behold our wounds are red ! into a little milk, and by successively stripping the teat between

This blade-what dims it to the hilt ? her tinger and thumb, unloads the udder. The plan, however,

Life blood-'tis of the Frankis attended with the disadvantage of irritating more or less the

We rose and burst their yoke accurst, teat, and rendering it liable to cracks and chops, which are

And gained that sullen clankfollowed by inflamınation, extending to the rest the quarter. This accounts for the disease occurring more frequently among

Could it be chains ? Say, hath our aid

In Freedom's cause been thus repaid ? the cows under the charge of one milker than it does in those which are under the charge of another; and, as this practice is

Rhine, I would pledge thee in a cup more common in some parts of the country than in others, it

Of thine own native growth; also accounts for the disease being more common in these ...But my hand trembles as I raise parts. This plan of milking where the irritation is oot sufficient

The goblet to my mouth; to excite the extent of inflammation to which I have alluded, * It seems as if by fettered limbs frequently produces a horny thickening of the teat, a conse

The wine-press had been trod; quence of the cracks and chops, which renders it more dif

To me at least it has the taste ficult to milk than when in its natural state; and, at the

Of friends', of brothers' blood, same time, predisposed to inflammation, when any cause oc

And broken faith..lo such curst wine, curs to set it up. These effects may be, and are almost entirely

I may not, dare not, pledge thee, Rhine ! avoided by the more scientific plan of milking adopted in other parts of the country, where, instead of drawing down or strip

Sweep on, thou dark majestic river ! ping the teat between the thumb and fingers, the dairy-maid

Ten thousand years thy roar follows more closely the principles which instinct has taught

Has swelled as now; and shall for ever

Till time shall be no more. the calf. (The calf jerks its nose into the udder, and forces down the milk.). She first takes a slight hold of the teat with

If then the hand that first designed her hand, by which she merely encircles it; then lifts her hand

And sent thee on thy course,

In depth of thy sublimity, up, so as to press the body of the udder upwards, by which the

Recall thee to thy source, milk escapes into the teat, or if (as is generally the case when some hours have elapsed between milking times,) the teat is

Tbine earthly race of glory run, full, she grasps the teat close to its origin with ber thumb and

Tell not the deeds thy kings have done. her fore finger, so as to prevent the wilk which is in the teat from escaping upwards; then making the rest of the fingers to In one of the imperial towns in Germany it is customary to close from above downwards in succession, forces out what address the Mayor' as “ Your Wisdom.". A party, who had milk may be contained in the teat through the opening of it. oonsumed hour alter hour in a bootless chase after the sapient The band is again pressed up and closed as before, and thus, tunctionary, having at last fallen in with hin, very innocently by repeating this action, the udder is completely emptied, with-bailed him, ejaculating, “I have been rummaying every nouk out that course tugging and tearing of the leat which is so ape and corner the whole day long, but deuce a bit could I find out to produce disease.-- Quarterly Journal of Agriculture. your wisdom."

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pitied than blamed. But oh there's something sair wrang ANDREW HOWIE-A MAN OF THE WEST.

With this lecture the weaver, hav(Written for the Schoolmaster.)

ing now carefully knotted up his yarn in his ragged Mon

« An' how is a' It was a day of public rejoicing in Glasgow ; and Mr. teith handkerchief, left the warehouse. Mathewson, one of the most respectable, if not the largest with you, Andrew ?" said Mr. Mathewson to the old man,

“ A man o' sense, like you, of the manufacturers of the town, had taken charge of his when they were left alone. own warehouse, that his son and two young clerks, with is no doubt surprised to hear half their unreasonable nonsundry inferior assistants, who usually officiated there,

Ye may all know that in the present state of the might have an opportunity of witnessing and sharing in market, our house, and too many others in this same town, the gaieties of the holyday. Already had Mr. Mathewson

are stuffing our warehouses with goods, for which there is himself, by what was thought an extraordinary degree of neither demand nor likelihood of demand ; and dipping condescension, viewed, examined, and paid for several pieces rashly into our capitals, rather than throw our hands all of cloth, brought in by hand-loom workers. He was going at once idle. Remunerating prices, such as we once got, through the same process with an exhausted, broken-down need never be looked for again ; and how, then, can men workman, yet one who in years seemed scarce in the prime be so unjust as to expect the same wages.” of life, when an elderly, small, thin man, of poor but de

“ It may be sae, sir," said the old man. “And it might cent appearance, entered on the same errand, was saluted be better for us all if there were less labour, and less stuffwith more than ordinary attention, and desired to sit down ing up of the white goods ; but oh, Mr. William, dinna go to on the bench. The old man nodded, and obeyed; wiped aggravate (exasperate) a poor worn-out, half-starved workthe perspiration from his thin temples and bald forehead, man, by telling him he is as free to refuse work as ye are and then fixed a keen, hollow, grey eye on the speakers be- to refuse him employment. I canna thole to hear that fore him. He who stood in the place of workman was

even from you, sir.- So were ye, when a bairn boarding making a low, but earnest expostulation, to which the wi' the gudewife—and a dour loonie ye were_to tarry at master answered at first calmly; and then, with a show of your porridge ; but ye ken weel that in an hour or twa impatience, he whipped up a bundle of cotton yarn, saying afterwards ye were fain to draw to your bicker.”

Mr. Mathewson smiled—“ And how, Andrew, is my aloud, “ Do ye think we would wrong ye, Robert ? If ye are not pleased with what we can give, ye are welcome kind old nurse? You should remember (for the sake of poor to take your change. This is a land of liberty ;-we can

weavers) that if I persevered, she would at last give the find weavers, and ye are just as free to look out for ano.

porridge a tempting dash of more milk, and coax we to ther warehouse." The poor man laid his emaciated, eager fingers upon the bundle_“ Say no more about it, sir.

“ It will be lang ere you masters pour cream on our Weel do ye ken I must take it."

cogs, or coax huz to eat, Mr. William,” said the old man, This poor man had brought in the fruits of his own and smiling grimly. “Where saw ye ever, for twenty years bis neighbour's fortnight's labour from his cottage, five bygane

, in town or country, in this land, masters in any miles off in the country, that he might have a stolen sight calling that could not find hands,-ay, and double, and of the grand procession. With thanks he had accepted triple hands. In the back woods of America there may wages reduced a full half below the prices of former years. cheek,—and in our trade never ; and never again will be, I

sometimes be lack of labourers, but seldom at our doorThese diminutions he had met by gradually retrenching jalouse. It will be fine times for the workman when he and; in many instances, entirely surrendering the little 1 m. is able, for any length of time, to refuse an ill-paid job, forts of his home, and at the same time eking out his hours

Mr. William." of labour ;—but to hear of farther reduction, which lowered the price of his labour to three-eighths of what had been

Andrew's business was now despatched, and the conver

sation became more general. Mr. Mathewson inquired given for the same kind and quantity of work twenty years about lodgings, which he wished to procure in his native before, and to be told that in this sort of barter between capital and labour, the manufacturer and the workman are

air, and in Andrew's neighbourhood. Something had disof equal ternas, wrung forth a hasty expression of impatience gusted him with his handsome villa on the Ayrshire coast, which he afterwards regretted.

which he was trying to sell ; and his health required change Ay, ay, Mr. William,”

of air. said the old man, as the poor weaver sung dumb, “ so he

“ Ye are looking, like myself, thin, auld-like, and yellow is, quite free to seek another warehouse ; only where will the poor fellow find it, when every master has a third mair enough, sir,” said Andrew, with compassionate interest.

“ It's but a thin, yellow, hungry trade grown, this of banels hanging on, than he can fully employ. So he is to jump o'er the brig as he gangs hame; and may-be, in a

ours, Andrew, compared with what we have both seen it," sense, that would be the best thing he could do, only he replied the manufacturer, smiling at Andrew's homely would riu a chance o' drownin', and o' leavin' an or

compliment to his complexion. “ There is a change of plan family to hale starve, instead o' half starving, and times since I wont to come out on the top of the yarn in aleo o' committin' a deadly sin. Had a war been going ternoon's fishing with your laddies, and a capital four

my uncle's caravan on a Saturday afternoon, to get an af. on, and the king needed soldiers, he might have left hours of tea and bacon, or burn trouts, from my old nurse, his family and ta'en the bounty. This is all the real choice while the overseer went about among ye. Those were he has between working for what ye think best—or starving,

happy days." and seeing them suffer who can worse bear hardship.

“ Ye let us come to you now, sir. Ay, a weaver's wife ken, sir, be ter than I can tell ye, it's little a weaver can turn his hand to. But I am far from blaming you, sir.

could gie a bairn a piece, or a friend a four-hours then. When I see your full shelves, I ken weel ye are mail to be

• Take the pet at-refuse, -Sce Jamicson.


Weel, weel!"_The old man's sigh filled up the sentence. “ And now we may hear of them drinking it, Andrew," “ But I am wae to hear ye need country quarters for health, said the manufacturer. sir; and there is ane at hame will be much concerned.

“ I'm no denying our faults, sir : would we were in a What is like the matter ?”

way to mend them, or had encouragement thereto. But “ No great matter, Andrew—something and nothing. it's plain to be seen that we are far, far departed frae the The doctor says air, the pony, and ease of mind, will soon natural state, in whilk things might be left to themselves, make all right; but the last is a commodity become right and ourselves to ourselves. But think ye it right to meddle scarce among us."

or make only to scathe us? If you protect your corn, and “ With a' those shelfs, and bales, and muckle books, your whisky, and your what not, by laws and statutes, and sir, and so many poor folk about ye, I can weel understand fines and felonies, why no protect ours and our bairns' that,” replied Andrew, glancing over the array of desks, wearied limbs and exhausted bodies, as weel as at our cost and on through the long perspective of the deep and well- the bread which should nourish us ?” stored warehouse, room after room retiring from view.

“ I have nothing to say for the Corn laws, Andrew ; yet Mr. Mathewson's complaint was that of hundreds of com

I cannot see that one bad law should be an apology for ano. mercial men in these times. He was nervous—he was dys-ther useless one. These are difficult complicated questions, peptic_his sleep was broken—his appetite uncertain. Then and we have scarce leisure for them,—but you will surely hc became almost quite well again, or much better, or no

own the world is much more prosperous than when you thing particular; and again there was a sense of languor, first saw it, sixty years back ?” oppression, and exhaustion, or irritation; and the physician

“ Indeed, and I'll no be rash there," cried Andrew, saw something was going wrong, but could neither tell what, nor yet confess ignorance. His most distinct fear briskly;“ but I freely own its a brawer warld ; and plenty was for water on the chest; and “the pony, and ease of changes in it, too, whilk young folk say are lightsome. mind,” were his universal prescription for all men in bu- Changes especially in our line; and, as far as machinery siness. “ If it's to be got ony where, it will be found about goes, changes for the better, I'll not dispute,-sair as ma

side, by me, Andrew; so make the gudewife look chines have borne on me in my ain peculiar. -But oh, for some bit room—no fine place—and I'll try to get out tions Providence has permitted us to make. They have no

we have surely made an ill use o' these marvellous inven. on Saturday; and now for your news."

been blessed to us, sir, in the use. We are making man's “ Yours it maun be, sir_The Bill is to do us a' a

master o' the dumb creations of iron and timber should be power of good, nae doubt? But what's come ower the

man's servants." Factory Bill ?—the wives will a' be at me for news about

" A little of the old leaven still, Andrew," said Mr. that. Whatever comes of us auld, doited, weaver bodies, Mathewson, smiling. « But hark, the music of our lads, it would be heartsome to see the bits o' bairns, poor, dowie,

and the procession.” spiritless, dwining, decrepit things, eased of their lang

“ Then I must be off to get a sight of their daft doings. hours. I wonder what the manufacturing tribe will crine It's aye some good Tue Bill has done, when it gives and dwindle into, sir, in a generation or twa."

them a play-day or two, and causes a brushing up among « If the wives would take care o' their bairns themselves, lads and lasses for a walk in the air. But I would like to Andrew, that would be better than ten bills. There has argue out the point with you, too, sir ; for I'm sure I could been a deal of senseless clamour about this same story. convince ye.” The Government have more wit than interfere with the en

The honest man showed such divided inclination between tire freedom of all contracts between capitalists and la- witnessing the Reform Procession and expounding his opibourers. The Factory Bill will get the go-bye, ye'll see.”

nions, that his old foster-child, or boarder, compassionately « Entire freedom !-how can ye ca' it sae, sir? Its a' delu- suggested the adjournment of the question, to be resumed sion and mockery to tell even huz, that's grown men, that on banks, or in Andrew's garden seat, under the we have entire freedom of working at ony price. But free-bourtrees. The old man's eye brightened. As he took dom of contract for children! Na, na. Can they manage a glass of medicated port, kept in the warehouse, because for themselves ? Are they free? Alack, alack !".

prescribed for the manufacturer at this noon-day hour, he “ They have their parents, and friends, Andrew, to take pledged to his better health, and shook his head with ear. charge of their engagements. May they not be safely left nest gesticulation, saying, “O'd, but Mr. William, this o' to them?”

ours should be a better warld if we kenned but right how “ No, sir, they cannot-ye see they cannot. In a cot to manage 't. I'm not just sure if the birkies up bye yonhouse on a moor, with a kail-yard and potatoes enow, Ider,”—and he pointed over his shoulder towards London,would leave, cheerfully, a bairn to its ain mother; but in “ken a' the rights and wrangs o't, or the real outs and this weary town of yours, wi' a man thrown clean out of ins; but howsomever, I hope they're honest men this new work, or brought down to the starving point in wages, set; and, wi' the aid of Divine wisdom"-[" And our good hunger and cauld pinching, and a mill open for bairns, be advising,” interrupted the smiling manufacturer, ]—“ they the hours short, or those of black niggers, be the place may make some small beginning to set us in the right way. healthy or murderous, we are come to that state, that I could leave the warld in peace, if I but saw it aince in fathers and mothers maun sell their bairns' labour. Ne- the right way.” cessity has no law,—the poor thing of eight maun slave “ In which for forty years ye have been showing it how for the sister of two and three. Ye have read in our auld to walk."Josephus o' mothers so bested as to eat the very fruit of “I'll no deny-it would be fause shame,---that since Mr. their bodies."

3 Muir's day, I may have been ettling at that," replied the

philosopher of Spindleton ; " It's a man's duty, sir,--and both his clubs which cost a shilling a quarter each, enthough but a poor man and a weaver, I would be loath to tered him ancw. Deprived of the distinction of having forget « A mau's a man for a' that.'” But here the musical the newspaper directed, as for forty years, to “ Mr Andrew instruments attending an Irish detachment of the proces. Howie, Manufacturer, Spindleton,” the old man became sion, now just at hand, poured forth “ St. Patrick's Day," spiritlesss and insignificant in his own esteem. What is so loudly, that it was only by signs the friends took leave; life deprived of life's enjoyments! Restored to his club, he and thus ended the first idle, leisurely talk that had taken read, expounded, and rehearsed with greater zest than beplace in that busy warehouse for months or years, at least fore; and was again the village oracle. when the master was present.

Andrew Howie, though not an idler, was on principle not

keenly industrious. Constant slavery at the loom, as he By Saturday evening Mr. Mathewson and his youngest called the modern long hours, was against his creed and his daughter were settled in the small rural lodging near Spindle- habits; and though the old man toiled only ten hours a ton which Mrs. Howie had engaged for them in a gardener's day, where his poor neighbours worked four teen, and sixhouse. His lady and elder daughters were reported to be teen, he never ceased to maintain, that his own hours were prodigiously fine people, but in manners and simplicity of much too long, and the necessity for such continued character, though his habits had become more luxurious, labour, owing to a bad constitution of society. Man was Mathewson himself was the same man as when an under intended, Andrew loftily affirmed, for something better clerk in the establishment to which he had succeeded, and than perpetual monotonous drudgery. which he had so much extended. Yet he had in many things Long before Mr. Owen, or Spence, or any of those gone with the stream which he now fancied it his duty to apostles, or their new systems were heard of, Andrew's oppose, at least, in the instance of his own thoughtless fa- benevolent speculations had wandered into forms, to which mily. He deferred his visit to his foster-mother till Mon- some of his neighbours looked with interest, and others day; but saw, with satisfaction, the decent, quiet couple in with amusement. His visionary Societies, and manufactheir old back pew in the church, from which Andrew's turing villages, were to be centres of domestic comfort, grey eye ever and anon shot a challenge to renewal of their leisure, instruction, health, happiness for allargument.

For the young who labour, and the old who rest. Andrew Howie, for a hand-loom weaver of 1832, might He, however, differed entirely from Mr. Owen in one essenbe considered a comfortable man ; his good fortune was the tial particular. Every householu in Andrew's town, was to fruit of his own good conduct. His cottage, the looms in have its own sacred fire-side. If more extravagant in one end, the dwelling in the other, was, together with the politics, Andrew Howie was more strictly religious than garden, his own property, on paying twenty-five shillings many of his younger neighbours. The spirit of Christia-year of feu. His long-used furniture was still in sufficient anity entered fully into his weaving Utopia, and mingled quantity, and well-kept. Fuel was cheap here. He had long with all his visions of the social Millennium of Spindlesince put “ a little to the fore." It was, indeed, very little, ton. but still something; and for the sake of a kind and dutiful When the old couple returned from afternoon service, daughter, Andrew would have suffered any hardship, save the on the Sunday after Mr. Mathewson's arrival, the converhumiliation of receiving parish aid, before he had touched sation naturally turned on their former boarder, and as * it. This fund, of L.23, 178., was deposited in a Glasgow naturally reverted to their own changed condition. Sunday

bank, for Andrew's prudent wife would not trust this trea- was now the only day of the week, in which they indulged sure even to her foster-child. “ There were so many ups in the extravagance of that thin blue dilution, which they, and downs," she said wiscly, “ amang the great masters.” perhaps from habit, named tea; and which a weekly Two benefit societies to which he sometimes grudged having slice of wheaten bread, and a sprinkling of treacle, which paid for forty years, without being above three times sick, Andrew thought good for his elocution, accompanied. Yet placed Andrew above the dread of destitution in illness, or of it ill becomes me to speak thus slightingly of the beverage wanting decent and Christian burial, which always supposes which the philosophic weaver sucked up like a leviathan, expense ; and the membership of a book-club which he had even to the sixth or seventh maceration of the bitter manymainly established, and of a neurspaper-club which originally coloured leaves. took in the Gazetteer! supported his social importance in Though curtailed at his board, Andrew enjoyed many the neighbourhood. He kept his scat in the church, though little comforts and great blessings unknown to his brethat too was felt a h avy cess in bad times, and having thren in “yon weary town.” He retained, after all his losses, surmounted the evil political fame of his youth, he was now the blessings—how great -of fresh air, free space, his garon the new Minister's leet for an elder. It was indeed sus- den, his good bed and useful furniture, the leisure which he Pected that Mr. Draunt the clergyman, had done this as a took, preferring it, in a balance of comfort, to what others stroke of policy, at a time when a rumour of building a might have reckoned necessaries ; though he thus forfeited Seceder Meeting-house arose in the village. Andrew had at the trifle of more wages, at which men with families greedily one time kept a couple of apprentices ; but this source of grasped, at the expense of weary limbs, exhausted spirits, and profit was stopt; he however let his loom stances, and was finally of ruined health. He also enjoyed, to the full, his own often not paid. His own gains were little indeed; not importance in his ancient neighbourhood, and the superiabove 4s. 6d. a week or the average ; but soinehow he ority he ever maintained in argument and conversation. contrived to maintain his place as patriarch of the village. Though his wages were scarcely a third of what he had The only aid he received was from his daughter, who kept once earned, his kitchen in a cold night was almost as snug him clear of arrears with his societies; and who once, as ever, his bed as warm, his church seat as sacred. How Then in a desperate fit of necessary economy, he gave up few old weaver could boast of as much!

“ That's a dish of prime tea, gudewife," said Andrew, “ Think ye still, sir," said he, following the eye of his breathing hard, from gulping down the fifth filling the visiter round the apartment, which, as contrasted with the last three without sugar; “ Whate'er Mr. COBBETT may memory of former years, shewed few tokens of increasing say—and he is a wonderful man—I wad na' care, in my national prosperity ; “ Think ye still this a better world auld days now, to take as much every night; he's a strong than that of the last generation ? Have we mair meat, stamacket man o' his nature, I reckon Mr. COBBETT, and mair leisure to make ourselves wiser and better men ; mair does na ken the wants o' sedentary callings.”

peace of mind, mair comfort at the fireside, and in our fa“ And sair do I wish Andrew, joe, I could gee ye a dish milies than the auld folk ye remember here ?" ilka evening, after toiling at that weary loom for six lang “There's more, and merrier of you any way,” said the hours frae dinner to supper, upon may-bе potatoes and salt.” manufacturer smiling, as a squad of children scoured yello

“ And under a good dispensation o' civil government, 1 ing past the door. ken not, Tibby, what should forbid. I told you how kindly “Granted, sir,--and mair work too,—far mair production, Mr. William bore in mind the hearty Saturday four-hours - and if we could warm onrselves with brass and metal ye wont to give him, and the laddies langsyne."

trinkrums, and eat crockery ware and our ain saft goods, “We durst na bid him to a dish o' tea now; and it's the it would be a brave world this coming up among us :—the less matter, as we have it not to offer. Then I had baith lady has her two silken gowns, and the lass her three a bit sweet butter and loaf sugar for a stranger. But oh ! he printed ones, o' Peet's rotten cottons, as Mr. Cobbett ca's looks wan, and defaite, poor man-muckle worse than ye them, for one langsyne ; but does that, sir, make up to you let on to me. That extravagant family is breaking his and me for our long weary work hours, our anxious minds, heart. They say, Andrew, his wife and tawpie daughters and outlay of siller.-If four gowns, and a dozen needles, or ne’er entered the kirk door six times in the same gown. candlesticks, bring huz labourers no more bread than the They say Dr. Chalmers nince gledged off tho book, and half o' them did long ago, it will be ill to make me believe glowered braid at them ae day they rustled in.”.

our world is the gainer by our reduced wage and lengthened “ Hout lass, ye ken little about it-It's no a woman's hours. A' thing has thriven but the meat and the mense" gown, or fifty o' them- gude kens they're ower cheap, Mr. William.” could have played phew ! on a trade like his. It's the trade “ The mouths have thriven pretty well too, Andrew. Do itsel, Tibby, that's ruined. The losses in South America, ye reckon for nothing the immense increase of the manufacand the crosses in North America, and Botany, and Van turing population ? enough of itself to account for the reDiemen's. Shops fu'o'finished goods rotting in the faulds of duction of wages.” the hydraulic press, or roupit abroad for far below the first cost.” “Scarce enough, sir, when we have fifty times more pro

“ Poor man! I wot nae, Andrew, but auld Geordie duction. But something I own :- the wives had a saying Mathewson's trade, though sma', was, wherr a' comes to a', in my young day, 'God never sends the mouth, but He a surer calling than this high-flying o' Mr. William's ; wi' sends the meat with it. But we must give up that—and a' their new-fangled tackle, throwing greedy grips to the adopt the new and unhappily ower true doctrine, that with ends of the Earth, and spreading out gauze duds to bring the numerous mouths come the famine and the pestilence." hame midges."

“ Well, well, Andrew, when the Bill gets us down the “ Partly right, but far mair wrang, Tibby, as the wo

meal and the bread, this will be half-mended-for I fear it men-folk generally are," said Tibby's apostlo. “ Mr. Wil- will be but half even then. If we could only get these liam and his neighbours have done good and ill baith Chinese and Hindoo creatures, to make or grow some useful to themselves, and to huz weavers. But this jabbering product, to send us in return for the goods we can furnish about temporalities, is scarce Sabbath-e’ening discourse-50 them, we could then pay ye, and content ye better.” ye'll rinse up your tea-tackle, as Mr. COBBETT ca's it, and

“ I own' that, sir-and Tibby there for one, would be let's get in the Books, my woman."

glad to get a reasonable hold of a little more of their tea Mr. Mathewson, on this night, was also at his books, and sugar, among other good things.. But ye are brought out on the previous day in his gig-box; and as a

not altogether right about the number of mouths producing first draught of the prescribed ease of mind, in his rural

so great a glut of labour--for, compared with our young abode, he dwelt upon them, comparing the fair and glitter-days, every single hand-loom hand is now equal to a man and ing array of figures in the ledger, shewing what ought to a-fifth.”—“A man and a-fifth, what do ye inean by that?" be the profits of the year, with what he feared they might

“Our Andrew has sic droll similitudes,” said the admiring eventually turn out, till Andrew Howie was awakened Tibby; and Andrew with a suppressed exulting chuckle of after his tea-supper, out of his long refreshing first sleep, by which vanity he was ashamed in an affair so serious, replied, the twittering of the swallows in the eaves of his cottage.

“The long hours—the long, exhausting, weary hours of toil, All next day Andrew hung over his loom, full-primed, make every man's labour now-a-days equal to a man and and at half-cock, prepared for a vigorous discharge of argu- a fifth of former times.— And if frail nature would sustain ment and eloquence upon the manufacturer. It was evening eighteen hours work out of the twenty-four, we would soon before Mr. Mathewson paid his visit ; and then he ap

see such hours—and if the cold form of religion subsisting peared fonder of a fire-side chat with Tibby, than political among us, permitted Sabbath work, we would have that too, discussion. But ben came Andrew, his Kilmarnock night- and the poor folks in three months no a bawbee the better cap in one hand, a bunch of well-thumbed pamphlets in the of it." other, consisting of a few select numbers of Cobbett's Regis

“Operatives are quite as free to restrict their hours of ter, a stray Carpenter's Political Magazine, some old Ex- work, as to make their own price.” aminers, and the last Trades' Advocate. Without loss of

* Mense,-manners, and something more: mensfi'ecludes cikietime or ceremony he opened his broadside.

dict, and propriety of conduox,

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