ILLUSTRATIONS OF HUMANITY.

No. XIX.-LONDON PERAMBULATING POTATO MERCHANTS.

An Irishman is said to live on potatoes, as Boniface lived on ale. Hence, their favourite lines

"The finest divarsion that's under the sun,

Is to sit by the fire till the praties are done." But think not, O reader, that the potato is most honoured in Ireland. It is in London alone that it is exalted to place and state, and has altars to it on the streets. Hark! All hot! all hot! Delicious potatoes and butter! Who would not stop on some cold frosty day, when the north-east wind turns his face blue and his nose red, to spend a halfpenny on a hot potato and butter? Look, too, how loyal our potato merchant is on his elegant portable machine he has inscribed the words, "Victoria Potatoes !" About one half of the entire number of London establishments, range under the three general heads of food, clothing, and habitation. There are about 8500 engaged in the supply of food, 5000 in liquors, 8000 in clothing, from 800 to 1000 in coal, 3000 in the building, sale, and letting of houses, and 4500 in the supply of household furniture, and decorations of every kind. By classing food and liquor establishments together, we have nearly 14000 under the head of food, and only 8000 under clothing; but the subdivisions of employment under clothing, as might naturally be expected, are greater than those under

food.

The old habit, which is probably coeval with the existence of cities, of particular trades or professions settling down in particular streets or districts, and which thenceforward become, by positive or tacit consent, appropriated to them, is in a great degree disappearing from London. The fishmonger and the silk mercer, the confectioner and the butcher, the tallow chandler and the tailor, the china man and the cheesemonger, occupy alternate shops. Some relics still remain of the old habit. Paternoster Row is still much occupied by booksellers, and Lombard street by bankers; Long Acre by coach makers, and Cranbourne alley by straw hat makers; Holywell street and Monmouth street uphold their old reputation of being mainly occupied by those who sell old clothes for new; and Brokers' alley is crowded by dealers in second-hand furniture. Other streets and places have distinct characteristics, though occupied by shops of various kinds.

There are several spots which have become, by a kind of prescription, markets for the working population; and in these places provisions can be bought much cheaper, though a little coarser, than in other places. Two of these spots are more especially worthy of notice-a particular part of Tottenham Court Road, and a street called the New Cut, on the Surrey side of the water. The latter is worth a visit on a Saturday evening. The street is occupied by butchers, bakers, dealers in pork, beef, ham, and sausages,

furniture brokers, old-clothes men, pawnbrokers, and gin shops. When evening has closed, a number of itinerant vendors of wares take up positions on the street, calculating on receiving their share of the machines, such as the one exhibited in our engraving, Saturday evening spendings. Here and there are tin some of them even elegantly finished off with brass mountings; each containing a fire, while the steam issues from a little pipe or funnel in each. The proprietors of these machines make the street resound with their cries of "all hot !"-signifying hot butter and potatoes. And doubtless, many a hard-working man, passing by one of these tempting little "establishments," thinks a large-sized hot potato and butter worth the halfpenny he exchanges for it. Our engraving, is, in fact, an exquisite illustration of the great principle of exchange, when carried on in the midst of a vast population like London. Where, but in London, could "profit and loss" thus be found, carried out in practice to the very streets, and supporting such elegant little machines? We almost feel inclined to try a potato!

NEW THEORY OF THE DELUGE. SOME of our readers are aware that the Rev. Dr.

J. Pye Smith, the eminent dissenting minister, lately published a work on the subject of geology. In this work the Rev. gentleman advances a new theory respecting the deluge. That theory will be found very which has been sent to us by a friend. We shall first clearly stated and ably supported, in a communication

insert the article, and then make one or two obser

vations on the subject. Alluding to a work in which the hypothesis of a globular or universal deluge is maintained, the friend to whom we are indebted for the communication thus proceeds:

We are exceedingly sorry that the intelligent writer deluge. We would yield to no man in reverent respect should have hampered himself with the idea of a globular for the inspired record; but that respect is not evinced by implicitly adopting interpretations which not only war with science, but are not at all required by the terms of the inspired narrative itself.

Speaking with reverence, whatever the Deity does must blowing of a flower, or the holding of the entire solid be equally easy of accomplishment, whether it be the contents of the globe in solution, or the creation of a universe, with its myriads of suns and revolving worlds. But the Divine Being himself has not taught us thus to regard the operations of His hands; and while we perceive around us the unequivocal demonstrations of creative and controlling POWER, we never see that power (so to speak) wasted or wantonly exercised. Economy no less than affluence is stamped on every thing.

Now, in order to surround the globe with one universal ocean, deep enough, or rather high enough, to cover the loftiest mountains, a stupendous quantity of water must have been expressly created, and then expressly annihilated. This could have been done by a miracle; but the Almighty never performs useless miracles; that is, we never perceive that he interferes with the great law which he has established, except for some extraordinary purpose or reason. If the earth had been surrounded with one stupendous ocean, besides the two-fold miracle of creating and anni

hilating a quantity of water far exceeding in amount all that is on the surface of the globe, another miracle must have been performed in suspending the action of the sun's rays on the atmosphere, in order to retain the ark about the place of Noah's nativity and habitation. Unless this miracle had been performed, currents would have driven the ark along the surface of this vast ocean in a given direction, and it must have circumnavigated the globe in order to return, which in the period was impossible.

Admitting the argument drawn from the idea of the ark stranding on the top of Ararat, another miracle must have been performed, in transporting Noah, his family, and all the creatures, from the peak of this almost inaccessible mountain to the plains below. Even admitting that the human beings could have let themselves down from the conical peak, which rises far above the limit of perpetual snow, how could the elephant or the ox have been got down? They must have been transported through the air, and that, being a deviation from the laws of creation, would have been a miracle.

If we admit, or rather contend, that the right interpretation of the inspired narrative requires a globular deluge, then the same mode of interpretation requires us to believe, that pairs of all creatures on the globe were preserved by Noah in the ark. By what means was the polar bear carried to and from the ark? How the African lion? How the Australian kangaroo? Nay, nay, let us not charge the Divine Being foolishly, nor lightly adopt an interpretation hedged in by stupendous difficulties!

If there was a universal deluge, the mighty mass of waters, rolling round the globe, and pressing with tremendous weight, must have utterly destroyed every vestige of vegetable life. Whence, then, found the dove its olive branch? Remember, that in "seven days" after the water had been "on the face of the whole earth," the dove was sent out a second time, and returned "in the evening, and lo, in her mouth an olive leaf plucked off." Yet, on the supposition of a globular deluge, we have here another miracle, for not only must the leaf have been created for the express purpose, but also that from which it was plucked off. And if we reject the supposition of a miraculous creation, we are driven to another miracle, in the sustentation of vegetable life during the deluge.

The inspired narrative does not say that the ark rested on Mount Ararat. The words are, "upon the mountains of Ararat." Ararat is "the name of a region in the centre of the high lands of Armenia, which was included in the former Persian province of Aran, but now in the present Russian government of Armenia; the Armenians call it to this day Ararat. The mountains of this region are called the mountains of Ararat, on which the ark rested. The whole of Armenia is called the kingdom of Ararat," as in Jeremiah i. 51, "call together against her the kingdoms of Ararat."

When we find that the small country of Palestine is occasionally termed the earth, we may easily concede, that in the early period before the Deluge, the term would be applied to signify that portion of Asia inhabited by the human race This was the earth; and it was this portion of the globe which was subverted by the comparatively tranquil deluge by which the human race was destroyed, with the exception of Noah and his family. The deluge was universal, so far as man was concerned. This interpretation harmonizes with the inspired narrative, with science, and with probability. It harmonizes, also, with all the traditions of a flood, to be found over all the earth, and which have been collected together in the essay which have elicited these remarks. The children of Noah, diverging from a common centre, carried with them the dread memory of the great common event; until the fact

of a deluge having destroyed man is to be found registered in the traditions and ceremonies of all nations.

The theory developed in this communication is ingenious, and as we have already remarked, is very ably supported. Still we are not prepared to embrace it. Should not some of our correspondents who have more leisure and are better acquainted with the subject than ourselves, reply in detail to the arguments of our talented contributor, we shall on some future occasion undertake the task. In the mean time, we must be allowed to remark, that nearly every objection which is urged against a globular or universal deluge, applies with equal force against a local or limited deluge, as described in the inspired records. The deluge, according to either hypothesis, was a miracle; the only difference being one of degree; and with the Divine Being there is no such thing as degrees. Degrees can only be spoken of in reference to the comprehension and powers of finite beings. In so far, therefore, as the Deity is concerned, there was no greater miracle, on the generally received supposition of a universal deluge, than there could have been according to the novel hypothesis of a local deluge. Consequently, what is urged against the theory of a globular deluge, on the ground that it would have been a miracle, falls at once to the ground.

But as we cannot enter at any length into the subject at present, we must content ourselves with one other observation. Our contributor assumes that the universal tradition of the deluge is to be ascribed to the circumstance of the children of Noah diverging from a common centre and carrying with them the memory of the common event. That the universality of the tradition is to be attributed to the circumstances in question, we readily admit; but then it must be remembered, that we have other evidence than either tradition or Scripture affords, that a great liquid catastrophe, if we may so express ourselves, has at some time or other befallen our earth. Recent geological researches have established the fact beyond all doubt, that at one period or other of the world's history, every country with which we are acquainted, has been covered by water. The tops of mountains in every quarter of the globe, 2000 or 3000 feet above the level of the sea, have been clearly proved to have been so many watery beds; so that there must at some period or other have been "stupendous quantities of water" on our earth, which have long since vanished from our view.

is, what is the plain meaning of the inspired narrative? The great question in all such cases as the present, To put a forced construction on any passage of Scripture, even though that passage may relate to a purely scientific subject, is to establish a perilous principle. Now there can be no question, that the natural or evident import of those portions of the book of Genesis which refer to the deluge is, that that deluge was globular or universal. And to that theory we must still continue to cling, until it has been demonstratively shown, which it certainly has not yet been, that the theory is at irreconcileable variance with Scripture facts.

OBSERVATIONS ON IRISH MARRIAGES.

(FROM MR. AND MRS. S. C. HALL'S IRELAND.) AMID the want so often attendant upon the young and thoughtless marriages of the Irish peasantry, it is wonderful to note how heart clings to heart. Poverty, the most severe and prolonged, rarely creates disunion, and still more rarely separation. The fidelity of the Irish wife is proverbial; she will endure labour, hunger, and even ill | usage, to an almost incredible extent, rather than break the marriage vow; we have known cases in abundance. "Ile beat me," said a pretty weeping girl, not nineteen, who had married from the service of an old friend," he beat me, ma'am, long ago; but I never thought more of it since ; and yet that didn't hurt me half so much as he's saying that maybe little Ned wasn't his; that's breaking the heart of me intirely, though I know he did not mane it, that it was the temper that spoke in him-the weary on it for temper!-I've known nothing but hardship since I married him; but I didn't complain of that; we both expected nothing else; and I don't mind a hasty stroke, for it's hard on him to see us wanting a potato, and he wet and weary-an ould man before his time with the slavery -and though I put little Neddy to bed early to sleep off the hunger, yet often it's too teazing on the poor child, and wakes him in spite of me, and I know the little hungry face of the darlint aggravates his father. I know all that; but he ought to know that I'd follow him faithfully through the gates of death, if that would save him an hour's pain; he ought to know it-and he does know it-I'm sure he does; and he kissed me this morning on his fasting breath, leaving me the handful of potatoes for me, and saying the masther, where he gives his strength for eight-pence a day, ordered him a breakfast, which I'm sure ain't the truth. The love's in his heart as strong as ever; but the misery, ma'am, often hardens the man while it softens the woman; he didn't mane it, and he knows it's not true, but it's hard | to listen to such a word as that. He was my first love, and he'll be my last. None of us can tell what's before us, but I'd go all my trouble over again if it would do him any sarvice!" It is also worthy of remark that second marriages are very rare among the peasantry, and, we may perhaps add, comparatively, among the higher classes. This affords a strong proof of the depth of their attachment, for it is very improbable that prudence can restrain in the second instance those who take so little of her

counsel in the first.

They do not hold it strictly right for either man or woman to marry again; and if a woman does so, she prefaces it with an apology:-"It's a father I was forced to put over HIS children, because I had no way for them, God help me! and this man, ye see, says, Mary,' he says, 'I have full and plenty for them, and the Lord above he know's it's justice I'll do them, and never hinder yer prayers for the man ye lost, or anything in rason, or out of rason either;' an' troth he has kep' his word wonderful." And the neighbours of the married widower apologise for him after this fashion:-" Well, to be sure! we must consider he had a whole houseful of soft children, and no one to turn round on the flure, or do a hand's turn for them; so it's small blame to him after all." Or they condemn" Yarra huish! to see an old stuckawn like that set himself up with a young wife, and grown up daughters in his house. To think of the hardness of him -passing the churchyard, where the poor heart that loved him, and put up with him, and slaved for him and his children, is powdering into dust-passing the grave where the grass isn't long, with a slip of a girleen in the place of her with the thoughtful head and the ready hand. Oh, bedad! she'll punish him, I'll engage; and I'm glad of

it." They are more angry with a woman for a second marriage than with a man, and certainly never consider a second union as holy as a first.

The following is a striking and creditable instance of attachment to the memory of a wife. We once remarked to a very respectable old man, and of very prepossessing appearance, that he must have been a great favourite with the fair sex in his youth. "Listen to me," said he, and the divil a word of a lie I'm tellin' you, for I can't be far from my end now. Some time afther the death o' my wife, a rich widow, and a handsome one, fell in love with me, and offered to marry me. Faith, it was a temptin' offer-my manes were small, and the family were large and helpless. But when I went home and looked at the poor childer, and thought of her that was gone-oh, I could never bear to bring another in her place-for she was a good woman, and a lovin' woman, and a sensible woman (here his voice began to grow tremulous with emotion, but by an effort he added), and a likely woman!" He burst into tears. This man's wife had been dead nearly thirty years. We may link with this an anecdote of the other sex. We know a widow, who is now about fifty years old; she has two daughters well provided for, and two sons who "help to keep the cabin over her." She was as susceptible as most of her country women, and in her youth had a sweetheart. He was not, however, the choice of her parents, who married her to another-the ugliest man in the parish. We were once present when somebody asked her whether she was not crying the whole night of her marriage. The question brought out her natural eloquence. "I was," she said, "I'm not ashamed to own it now; I was giving up myself to a man I didn't like, and I fond of another at the time. He was the ordinaryest man in the county; but I won't wrong him; he was a good husband to me, and nobody can say I wasn't a good wife to him, thank God! He was sickly eleven years before he died; and all that time I didn't lay my side on a bed for three hours together, day nor night, besides having a family of four children to look after. He left me without the means of helping them, except by the work of these two hands. I brought them up, thank God! decently; nobody can say I didn't, and never asked a meal for them from any Christian I didn't earn it from."

CONDITION OF THE WORKING CLASSES OF GREAT BRITAIN.

THE reports to the House of Commons upon the condition of the working classes of Great Britain, present a picture appalling and truly horrifying. These reports are irrefragable evidences of the physical and moral degradation of the working and humbler classes of Great Britain, and are no doubt the silent causes of the late, and indeed present dissatisfied and disturbed state of the people, for nothing so quickly evokes from its murky habitations the spirit of revolt, as poverty. The following is a condensed statement of the returns contained in the reports alluded to.

NOTTINGHAM has a population of 50,000. Within the town, which consists of 11,000 houses, there are from 7,000 to 8,000 built back to back. When the cholera raged many rows of houses were found to be placed upon drains, which were shallow, and simply covered with the boards of the sitting room floors. These, when shrunk by heat, allowed noxious smells to rise. The health and morals of the residents suffered greatly from the state of their dwellings. LIVERPOOL population consists of 230,000. There are in the borough of Liverpool 7,862 inhabited cellars, dark, damp, confined, ill ventilated, and dirty. These cellars contain one-fifth of the working classes, being 39,300

persons, and of the whole population they contain one seventh. There are 2,270 courts, in which there are six or seven families, and few of these courts have more than one outlet. MANCHESTER population 200,000. It was ascertained that twelve per cent of the working population live in cellars. There are of that class 128,232 persons, of whom 34,676 live in cellars. In SALFORD there are 49,991 of the working classes, 3,335 of whom dwell in cellars. It is stated that of 57,000 dwellings of the working classes which were examined, 18,400 were ill-furnished, and 10,400 scarcely comfortable. In BURY the population is 20,000. The following statement of the condition of 3000 of the families of the working classes in this place, is most revolting. In 773 houses there slept three to four in a bed ; in 207, there slept four to five in a bed ; and in 78, they slept five to six in a bed! This awful statement must rouse the honest and religious indignation of every Englishman. BRISTOL population 120,000. Of 5981 families, consisting of 20,000 persons, 2,800 families have but one room; 630 houses are without sewers, and 1304 houses are without water, or are supplied with bad water. NEWCASTLE ON TYNE population 64,600. The examiner of this place reports as follows. In many parts the dwellings are close, dirty, and miserable, without order or comfort, whole families inhabiting a single room, and living in an atmosphere totally unendurable. The mind cannot picture a state of greater destitution or misery. LEEDS population 80,000. Of 17,800 houses, 13,600 are under £10. per annum, and contain 61,000 of the working classes. The streets are very bad, one half of which are hung with linen, and are impassable to horses. The north-east ward contains 15,400 working people, and has 93 streets. Of these, three have sewers, twelve have partly, thirty-eight are without sewers, and forty are unknown. In 1839, the deaths in Leeds were one in twenty-eight and a half. GLASGOW.-Mr. Symmonds, the commissioner, speaking of this city, says, "Until I visited the wynds of Glasgow, I did not believe that so large an amount of filth, crime, misery, and disease existed in any civilised country. In the lower lodging houses, ten, twelve, and sometimes twenty persons, of both sexes and all ages, sleep promiscuously on the floor in different degrees of nakedness. These places are such as no person of common humanity would stable his horse in. The lower parts of several of those houses, are spirit-shops, pawn-shops, or eating houses. The population of these wretched districts is probably 30,000 ; it certainly exceeds 20,000 persons who are passing through the rapid career of prostitution, drunkenness, and disease. The number of persons who died last year was 10,270, or one to twenty-three and a half to the whole population, and of that number about 180 died of typhus, à disease which never leaves Glasgow. It appears from another statement that in 1835, the number of persons attacked by fever was 6180; in 1836, 10,092; and 1837, 21,800. Surely such an amount of human misery cannot but be contemplated with horror, and cannot fail of arousing the tender sympathies of the humane and benevolent upon whom heaven showers its blessings of wealth, to some effort to rescue their fellow creatures from such an abyss of physical and moral debasement.

TRAPPISTS OF MOUNT MELERIE.

THE crops, enclosures, and planting of this extraordinary establishment, are truly wonderful, when we consider seven years ago it was a wild mountain. Our wonder increased when we approached the buildings. They are of great extent, and though not finished, are advancing rapidly towards completion.

We are told that the change of habits in the population of this mountain district since the establishment of the Trappists, is very remarkable. It was a notorious lawless neighbourhood, where outlaws and stolen sheep were sure to be found. Now nothing can be more peaceable.

The results of labour, judiciously applied, must also be of immense advantage; and the system of the establishment insures this application. The works of each department are directed by clever men, who by study become informed of all the recent discoveries, and are enabled thus to give the best instruction.

We were very courteously received by the Superior, who showed us all over the establishment. He has a most benevolent countenance, full of Christian humility, yet quite devoid of that cringing and servile expression I have sometimes remarked in Italian monks.

He took us through the garden; where the only flowers they have cultivated were blooming over the few graves of deceased brethren. The sun was shining upon them and upon the painted glass window of the chapel near. I was struck with the idea that these poor men must enjoy a more firm conviction of future bliss than most people. Their own daily fare is hard, and apparently miserable. No luxury, no ornament of any kind, is visible in those parts of the building in which they dwell. The garden, too, only contains common vegetables for their use; but the church is highly decorated. They expend all their money, all their ingenuity, in embellishing the temple of the God they serve; and they cause flowers to bloom on the graves of those who are gone, as if to show that real bliss can only be found in a hereafter.

There are about seventy monks in the establishment, all English and Irish. They were invited to return to France, but refused. Some of them were men of rank and fortune ; but once a brother, all distinction ceases. Their dress is a white cloth robe, over it a black cape, with long ends reaching before nearly to the feet, and a pointed hood of the same dark hue. The effect of these singularly-attired and silent beings in the carpenter's shop where seven or eight were at work, was very striking it seemed almost as if we were visiting another world and another race.

:

Strict silence towards each other is observed, and their mode of life is very severe. They rise at two o'clock every morning, both summer and winter, yet they do not partake of their first meal until eleven o'clock. They never eat meat or eggs, and have only two meals in the day. The second is at six; and we saw what was preparing for itbrown-bread, stir-about, and potatoes. The latter are boiled by steam; and a prayer is said by the monks just before they are turned out of the huge boiler, and carried in wooden bowls to the refectory. We also visited their dairy, where they made the best butter in the neighbourhood, by a peculiar method, in which the hand is not used. The dormitory is fitted up with a number of wooden boxes on both sides. Each box is open at the top, and contains the small bed and a crucifix, and just room enough for the brother to dress and perform his devotions.

The chapel is very large; and the monks are now decorating the altar and seats with very rich carving, It is entirely done by themselves; and we were told that some of the best carvers and gilders were rich men, who of course had never even tried to do anything of the kind until after they became monks. It is the same, too, with those who now dig the fields, and plant potatoes, and break stones, and make mortar. With all this hard life of deprivation and labour, the monks appear happy and very healthy.-Lady Chatterton's Home Sketches and Foreign Recollections.