cuted as ill designed. Leave we such goat and monkeyisms to Papist missals, and Methodist hymn-books. Let them not neutralise the power which snuff is said to possess, of chastening, while it soothes and cheers; certes, at least, by supplying a harmless stimulant to the nerves, it diverts the mind from less creditable excitement. Let not, then, an agreeable garnish of life be brought into disrepute, by being made a pretext for obscenity. Let Sin be the Bottle Imp, but not Jack in the Box.

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Having waste paper enough, shall we desire to raise the sanctuary (i. e. the lid), and pitch our evils there? The abominations in question are revolting to the taste of a true voluptuary. In song or story, wit may half excuse, half veil an ardent thought; language is more indefinite than painting. Those too dull to take a verbal jest, can yet see what they look upon," and enjoy low, obvious humour. Unable to reason or reflect, not knowing right from wrong, capable only of "taking the world as it goes," even if it goes to the devil, these "gentlemen" are no more to be blamed than are irresponsible idiots or maniacs; but they should be shunned by their moral superiors, for their inconsequent carelessness is apt to

realise the worst effects of brutal malice; what they gloat on, without shame, they take no pains. to keep unseen by others. We have known "good sort of fellows," guiltless of motive as were stumbling pigs, leave their pet boxes where women and children could not fail to see them. Thus infancy might be corrupted, and maidhood shocked. The insult of which one dares not complain, one never forgives; one would, if possible, revenge fifty years after it was perpetrated.

The late John Scott, with manly British indignation, notices the fact that females in Paris vend les tabatieres ingenues, without scruple; even pointing out their "beauties" to male customers; and those women, perhaps, nevertheless, chaste spinsters, or faithful wives! In England, thank Heaven! many, even of those who have strayed from virtue, retain modesty enough to loathe that species of cleverness: luckily a frail woman may resent such a wrong; and we know of one who said to a would-be gallant

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'Well, you have offered me a pinch from your box, and now I'll have a rap at your canister!"

So saying, she beat and kicked the ass till it brayed for mercy. If no longer worthy to rank

with honest women, she could, at least, behave more like a man of honour than the exhibitor had done.

A friend of ours had received from China a tortoise-shell box, on which were elaborately carved pagodas, figures, boats, bridges, trees, and birds, such as are seen on genuine old Nankin. He expressed to his friend Captain M, who traded to Canton, a wish for a box adorned by some British subject; for instance, a fox-hunt, after one of Alkin's popular plates. The Captain offered to take out the engraving; sure that his artist would execute the order with the most implicit fidelity of imitation; for it is well known that the Chinese copy, unquestioningly, faults and all but there will arise one original in a century, even beside the Yellow Sea. This singular dweller within the Great Wall ventured to speculate to think for himself, though he thought wrong.

When the box was finished, every little hound had a little fox before him; whether the native of the Celestial Empire resolved on proving himself a friend to fair play, or whether he believed the small quadrupeds all dogs, though some chose to wear longer bushier tails than others

(artist as he was, it was evident he knew nothing of the brush), the gentlemen of England never learnt, for Captain M- - did not examine the box ere he sailed for Europe, and when he returned to China, his carver had vanished; disposed of, perhaps, by his Mandarin patrons, for having once dared to deviate from the beaten track.

The ridiculous effect he had produced may be imagined, and rendered this unique box a diverting curiosity to all sportsmen.

Here comes what may seem a digression.

Some years since there dwelt at Alyth, on the Isla, in the beauteous shire of Perth, a being, who, though lame from an early age, so as to keep his bed, was gifted by Heaven with a healthful temperament, cheerful mind, active in useful arts, self-taught. The affable, animated expression of his pale features made him a general favourite; a sort of male Lydia White, in humble life.

His home was the mental gossip-shop of the neighbours; politics and polemics were discussed beside his circular couch, round which ran a platform, about a foot and a-half above the place of rest. This counter was crowded with his working utensils; on it he constructed turning lathes, clocks, musical and optical instruments, some of them equal to any produced by London and Edinburgh artists. Their exterior elegance and intrinsic merits may be accounted for; he learnt sympathy from self-pity, and loved to please, in others, the senses he himself could best enjoy.

He drew and engraved accurately; improved the race of flaxen spinning-jennies; hatched birds in his own genial bosom, reared, instructed them, and was repaid, not only by their song, but by