last Sunday evening, when alone in my rooms, | hilaration rise when we pass through the upon a very serious question. light-built cheerful skirts of Paris, or saunter in the Boulevards, and the eye reposes upon the foilage of the trees?

Are the English the religious nation which they claim to be? and are they justified in their pharisaical contempt of the French? I thought for many hours, and it may be a matter of surprise, that I was unwillingly obliged to find a verdict against my own country

men.

We are a sombre nation, a matter-of-fact nation, and in the middle and higher grades, perhaps, a moral nation, but not a religious nation; and the very outward observances are inimical to the true religion of the heart required by the Omniscient."

The plan of building in London is equally productive of gloom. Space is money, and money every thing. The old and never-lostsight-of principle appears, of the greatest possible results by the least possible means? What is the consequence?

We have staircases just large enough to get up. With us, staircases are staircases. Our rooms are equally confined, and more dark from a want of sufficient light. The servants live in cellars, for the kitchens are cellars, and nothing more. There is no

Let us first put the general question. Are we not the most gainseeking nation in exist- space for ornament, nor light to display it. ence? It is undeniable. Can we therefore The walls are mostly bare,-there is nothing serve Mammon so dilligently for six days in to catch and please the eye-no attempt to the week, and then turn round with all sin-win the imagination for a moment, and allow cerity to God on the seventh? Impossible; other thoughts to be dismissed. All is matit is contrary to nature. We may observe ter-of-fact, of necessity, and no more. outward forms, but is the heart there? Can Examine the interior of a house at Paris, any man who has been ruled by what has become a habit, confirmed by years, divest himself of that habit at volition? He may try to do it, and in the trial lays the merit; but he can no more prevent his thoughts wandering back to his worldly affairs, than an inveterate snuff-taker, with the box open before him, could deny himself a pinch of snuff, because it was the hallowed day.

It is the fact that, as a nation and in communities, our virtues and our vices in this world depend more upon circumstances than upon ourselves. This may be considered to be a bold assertion, but it is borne out by investigation in every race and in every clime. I have said that we are a sombre nation. There is more than one cause for it. Our climate has some effect; but what has more, is the national feeling with which we are innoculated from our cradles as a money getting community-to obtain the greatest possible results by the least possible means-a law of mechanics, which actuates every motive of action in the English community, and to which they sacrifice every thing. It is this pervading first principle which has made us a sombre and suicidal nation, not our climate; for actuated by it in all we do, we never study to please the imagination. There is no relaxation, no relief to the mind, which, like the machine, works on and on in its calling, till it wears out.

To prove the truth of this assertion, let us make a comparison between the two metropolises of England and France.

In London, where we suffer under a damp and foggy climate and the smoke of coal fires, there is little or no ventilation in the narrow and confined streets,-and why? Because distance is time, time is money, and money is every thing.

see the space that is sacrificed, the lightness, neatness, loftiness of rooms, the cheerfulness occasioned by the mirrors, the paintings, the good taste of the ornamental department in all its branches. You will then perceive that all this affects the imagination, and that the contrary occasions you to be sombre. You may feel the truth of this when you recollect how strong the effect of a fine sunny day is upon the spirits of an Englishman. And why so? because he is cheered by an accession of that light and air which he has denied to him. self.

It is not the house of the rich man in Paris that I refer to; the same feeling pervades from high to low. Go into the porter's lodge, you will find that he has his decorations, his small mirror, his framed pictures, his little library, his flowers in the window-sill. It is but a hole, but it is as cheerful and gay as that hole can be made.

I feel convinced that the above observations are so true, that if London could be pulled down and rebuilt upon a better plan, a few years would materially improve the character of the inhabitants. We have sacrificed every thing to profit, and by so doing we have built ourselves dungeons. Who can be gay under such corfinement, and actuated by the one only feeling of obtaining wealth?

I have said that we are a sombre nation, and in the middle and higher classes a moral one.

And here I am afraid that I shall not give satisfaction; for as there can be no true mo rality without religion, so then, as I have de nied religion, some other cause must be found for our morality. It is to be found in the ever-acting principle of the community, in the constant seeking after the attainment of In Paris, a merchant, when he takes a wealth. In a commercial nation like ours, it warehouse, will look as much for a cheerful is absolutely necessary that probity should situation as he will for a convenient one. be upheld as one of the first principles of Bricks are cheaper than stone, and the very guidance. If a man has once established his sombre hue of brick edifices is reflected upon character in this point, he has half establish. the imagination. Does not the feeling of ex-ed his fortune. The notorious Colonel Char.

VOL. I.

43

tres is known to have said, that he would houses virtually licensed by the police for the give twenty thousand pounds for a good cha- accommodation of the public. racter, if such were to be obtained by purchase; and on being asked his reason, very honestly confessed that it was because he would make one hundred thousand pounds by it.

Now a man is seldom honest in one point and not in another; and the moral code is, generally speaking, either received or rejected in toto. The youth of England are brought up morally and religiously; it is their interest in advanced life to be the one, and to appear to be the other. In fact, they would perhaps be both, if circumstances would have permitted it; but they prove the truth of the Scripture, "Ye cannot serve God and Mammon."

But this is not the greatest of the evils. We have the gin palaces decorated at an enormous expense, with their numerous gas lights flaring and pointing out where inebriety holds his court. This is horrible, most horrible; call England a virtuous nation after this

when the government, showing in a body the national folly, think only of an increased revenue, and nothing of the demoralization of the people. A man may be guilty of some crimes when sober, but he will do what he would otherwise recoil at when intoxicated. There is a very apt fable of a man who was obliged, from some previous contract or another with the devil, to choose to obey him in three offices. The devil gave him his choice, Although the higher classes have religion to murder his father, to ruin his sister, or to in their mouths, talk of the Established get drunk. The man chose the last, as the Church, danger of popery, &c., as I cannot least crime of the three; but what was the pretend to say what they have in their hearts, consequence? as soon as he was drunk, the will only observe, that as legislators, they devil persuaded him to commit the other have done much harm both to the cause of two. religion and of morality. It is generally It may be urged, that the laws are severe, supposed, that a man will be moral first, and religious afterwards. Now our government have attempted to force religion, or rather, the outward observance of it, upon the lower classes, without in any way legislating for morality. The discrepancy of this conduct has been more than absurd. They refuse to the poorer classes innocent amusements, and at the same time wink at, and almost sanction, the most degrading vice.

and are put in force. This is true, and, un.il lately, the laws were much too severely imposed; but is not prevention better than remedy? and is it not the duty of a paternal government to put an end to this nursery of crime? At present, they are acting in the same way as landed proprietors do, when they allow their rabbits to get a-head, that they may have the amusement of destroying them; for, by not interfering with this juvesupply of subjects for the hulks, the colonies, nile delinquency, they procure a continual and the gallows.

Now that I have shown what our legisla tors for the last century do not think it their duty to interfere with, I will point out what they do interfere with, viz. the rational amusements of the people, such as dancing, theatricals, and any species of relaxation, particularly on a Sunday.

And here we come to a very important question, which is, upon what is, and what is feel that I am on dangerous ground; but I not a due observance of the Sabbath day. I have my opinion on the subject, and if I am wrong, it is not from not having reflected upon the subject.

It is a well known fact, that there are whole streets in the metropolis occupied only by thieves, pickpockets, and the most abandoned of females. Streets utterly deserted, unlighted, the houses in them spacious and lofty, once perhaps, the abode of all that was respectable, and wealthy, and good, now dark and dismal purlieus, appropriated as dens for vice and immorality. I have been through them at night from curiosity-not without danger and have beheld this extremity of vice, dissipation, and misery. In these streets there is no landlord who can call for his rent, but two-pence or three-pence a-night is charged for the inhabiting of rooms full of filth, where promiscuously are heaped together the abandoned of both sexes, who, after In England, the universal principle which prowling for their prey, return to their lairs guides every thing, has sunk the lower classes either moody from disappointment, or flush-into mere machines; they are worked to exed with gin and success. And in these streets are permitted to advance to maturity, utmost possible amount of labor is extracted cess during the six days of the week, and the thousands of children of both sexes, a nurse- from them at the lowest possible cost. Amusery for prostitution and pickpockets, who live ment is unknown and unthought of during in a state of abandonment, supporting them- the week days. Unlike the Catholic_counselves by petty thieving, until they become tries, we have no festival days except Easter ripe for their respective professions. And and Christmas, in which a man can lay by yet, although this is well known, the govern- his work and be merry. If he did, he would ment do not interfere. No, this nursery of not have bread for his children for the day present and future crime, is not worthy of after.

their consideration!

The poor man in England has fifty-two Again, we have, as it is calculated, forty days of rest in three hundred and sixty-five. thousand unhappy women walking the streets Abroad, the poor man does not work more of London, all with their respective beats, than two hundred days in the year. Now, which are not interfered with-hundreds of with such incessant toil, our legislators will

tell the poor wretches, that they are to keep pation. Dancing is totally prohibited every the Sabbath in due observance-according to day in the week, but a man may get as drunk their reading of the word due observance, as he pleases. Now, there is no recreation which, be it observed, is outward form only. so valuable or so innocent as dancing; it afThere are no Sabbath laws for the rich-fects the imagination, for the time absorbs they may, and they do, do as they please. It all other ideas, the mind is exhilarated by the is true, that they observe the Sabbath as far exercise and by the music, and it should be as going to church, some, perhaps, twice a encouraged as much as possible. Upon what day; but are "the cattle within their gates" al- plea is it denied-because it leads to immolowed the benefit of the commandment? Does rality? On the contrary, it checks immoeven the bishop walk to church? Besides, rality: the man who is amusing himself with be it remembered, that there is a great deal dancing will not get tipsy half so soon as he of difference between keeping one day sacred would otherwise; in all probability not drink after having amused yourselves the other six, more than he ought. But we insist upon and keeping that day sacred after having idleness, which is the root of all evil, and toiled for the same period. I will not pre- having nothing better to do our people get tend to say what may be implied by a due drunk. Why are the French such a sober observance of the Sabbath, as given out in people? Because they are exhilarated by the commandment, but this I do know, that amusements, and do not require further stiour Savior walked in the corn-fields with his mulus. In England, the people get drunk disciples on that day. I know that the Sab- in a corner like hogs, because they are not bath is not observed by the higher classes, permitted to do any thing else. according to their own reading of the commandment as legislators and as divines, and that the measures taken by them to enforce the due observance of this day by the lower classes, is productive of much crime and misery, and that merely because the lower classes are denied rational amusement, which cannot be offensive to God.

The absurdity of legislating upon this point is fully proved by the inconsistencies which it has produced; for instance, barbers are not to shave on Sundays; is not cleanliness a duty, and is it not a part of the respect paid to the Lord's day? The upper classes may have their beards taken off by their valets, or with their own razors on a Sunday morning, but the poor may not. Might you not just as well prohibit washing hands and faces on a Sunday for ablution is quite as necessary as shaving, if people are to appear clean.

Some devout legislator, I forget who it was, gets up a petition from the journeymen bakers, who, by cooking the Sunday dinners, complain that they are not able to attend Divine service. Now, in the first place, as all the Sunday dinners are out of the oven by half-past one o'clock, if they were prevented attending morning service, they were not prevented going to church in the afternoon; and in the next place, allowing this petition to have been attended to, what must have been the result? Say, that there are five thousand journeymen bakers throughout the kingdom who are detained watching the dinners of fifty families in each oven. Had these five thousand journeymen bakers gained their petition and baking on Sunday's been put an end to, instead of one journeyman baker being kept away from church, there would have been fifty people obliged to remain at home to watch each separate dinner; or, that to enable these five thousand to go to church, if so inclined, two hundred and fifty thousand people must have remained at home in the cottages to watch the separate cooking. And this is legislation!

The whole system, at present, is such as to drive the lower classes into vice and dissi

Some months ago, a friend asked me whether I would accompany him to the play. I consented, without caring which theatre we might visit. He led me through a part of St. Giles's, until we arrived at a gateway leading into a yard. At the gateway he gave a man twopence for our entrance, and we received two dirty bits of card. We walked to the end of the yard, mounted an outside staircase, and found ourselves in what had once been a large hayloft, and was now fitted out as a rude theatre. The sight was curious. There were about two hundred people collected, all unwashed except ourselves. Chimney-sweeps, apple-women, journeymen of all descriptions, boys and girls. Behind me sat in a row seven old women, each with a short pipe in her mouth. The man who acted as, I cannot say boxkceper, for we sat upon forms, but as master of the ceremonies, was deficient in that necessary appendage called a shirt, but he was very polite. Perceiving that we were rather respectable, he handed us to the best places, and in a few minutes, during which I was astonished at the quiet and decorum which were maintained, the curtain drew up and the performance commenced. The first piece was "Frankenstein:" I will not say much for the merits of the actors; but they acted with all their heart and soul, and we were much amused. They concluded with the "Mayor of Garratt," and here I could not help being surprised at one circumstance:there is a part of this farce not very delicate, where Jerry Sneak comes in and relates to Bruen what he has seen through the keyhole relative to the Mayor and his wife. This is generally said out aloud in the theatres, but here it was whispered. But in other points, this penny theatre set an example to those licensed by the Lord Chamberlain. When the curtain drew up, the order for hats and bonnets off was immediately complied with; there was the greatest d corum and quiet throughout the whole of the performance, and, when it was over, the spectators separated without noise or confusion.

Now, I would put the case to the reader

were not these two hundred people much during the whole of that day? Did not our more rationally employed for two or three Savior rebuke the Pharisee for his ostentahours in spending a penny, and being thus tious public prayers, and justify the publican amused and instructed, too, than in getting who ejaculated shortly and in secret? But drunk at one of the gin palaces? And yet, the question is this:-Are we required of the had the police known of it they would have Almighty to do more than our nature and inbroken in, taken some of us up and lodged us firmity will permit? And can any manin the watchhouse till we could make our ap- can the Archbishop of Canterbury, declare pearance before their worships, the magis- solemnly that he can dedicate that whole day trates, on the following morning, who, in to the service of God, without wandering? their horror of such profane and unlicensed Impossible. Then if such is the case, let us doings, might have, perhaps, sent me and my make the day as holy as we can, and not atfriend for a week or so to the treadmill as an tempt to desecrate it by hypocrisy. Let us example to evil-doers. enjoin a due attendance at church, and let us not forbid rational amusements which will put a stop to vice and immorality. The mind cannot be kept on the stretch, it cannot direct its attention to serious subjects for a whole day, nor is it required. If the rich, who have no excuse for the outward observance of that day, fail in their duty, how can they expect the poor man, after his six days of toil, to accomplish it, when he feels that relaxation is absolutely necessary for his existence?

We must now return to the sabbath-day, and examine how it is spent in this country in consequence of unwise legal enactments: the great object of legislation is to correct as far as possible-to render man perfect is impossible-but we have to choose the minor evil and the major good. If we cannot force people to keep the commandment, we must do all we can to induce them to keep it as far as possible: and, in our legislation, we must always bear in mind the peculiarities and the circumstances which bear upon the case. Under the present system, the most immoral day of the seven, in England, is the sabbathday. It is singular that, while legislating upon such trifles as a man's beard, it has never occurred to our rulers that the sabbath is not the day of rest, but the day of hard work par excellence, for our noble friend the horse. Every animal that can be mounted or driven is put into requisition on that day to the horse it is a day of misery. Away they go out of London in every direction, to distances beyond their strength, and do not return till late at night, driven furiously back by people in a state of inebriety. You may drive a noble animal to death, you may get drunk, you may seduce a virtuous girl, in short, you may be guilty of every species of vice and immorality, and cruelty on a Sunday, provided you do not shave, or play cricket, or dance in the evening, after having attended divine service and thanked God for his mercies in the morning of that day. And this is legislation!

I have said that the poorer classes of England require relaxation and amusement, which is denied them in toto. Circumstances will not permit them, even if it were allowed them to benefit by it on the six days in the week; it appears to me that sound legislation would permit it on the Sunday, and that, by its being permitted, the cause of morality would be upheld; and with all due respect to those who think otherwise, I do not think that it would be an offence in the eye of a merciful and kind God. We are told to keep that day holy, but the question is, hat is the meaning of the word holy; is it not explain. ed by what follows in the commandment, that it is to be a day of rest from worldly labor to all, not only to yourself but to your household and to your cattle? Does holy imply that you are to wear a grave face? Does holiness consist in outward observance? Is it a sin to laugh or be merry? Are we required to pray

At present, the day is desecrated. It is a day of beastly intoxication, because nothing else is permitted except idleness. It is a day which is the cause of bitter tears, of wretchedness, and infamy to many a poor girl; for it is a singular fact, that the idleness and want of amusement on that day is the cause of their ruin, and it has been proved by inquiry that nine out of ten of the unfortunates who have been seduced have to recall the evening of some Sunday as the cause of their misfortune.

Let me conclude by observing, that there are more ways of worshipping and honoring the Deity than falling down before him on our knees. Why the chosen of God danced before the ark I leave to be explained by the divines; but this is certain, that cheerfulness and thankfulness, innocent mirth, good-will towards others, gratitude for mercies received, amusement and exercise, creating happiness and injuring none, are as acceptable to a merciful and loving God at the close of the day dedicated to him, as devout prayer and meditation at the commencement.

(To be continued.)

MY ISLAND HOME.

THEY tell of the breezes of Araby,

With spices on their wings;
But Albion's gales are the breezes for me,
Which the broad blue ocean brings.

Some talk of the thrill of the bulbul's notes,
Far sweeter the song of the nightingale floats,
In a perfumed eastern bower:
At England's sunset hour.

Some sing of the maiden of Georgia's face,
And the sunburnt dames of Spain;
But I am content with my land's native grace,
Nor seek it across the main.

duced to a clever man, with the assurance that I shall be enraptured with him, and so often found the cheating phantom fade into air in the first ten minutes of conversation, that, in fact, I begin now to have a kind of premonitory horror of the clever men who are introduced to my notice with a flourish of trumpets, and prefer those whose abilities I the society of watering-places as trifling and find out for myself. It is the custom to decry frivolous, but I must in justice to them say, that some of the very cleverest men whom I know, have been met with by me at a watering-place; and the perfect freedom of intercourse enjoyed under such circumstances, renders the conversation of the clever man a source of far greater satisfaction than if he were encountered at the crowded assembly of a lionizing dowager, or the formal banquet of some ostentatious dinner-giver, who, secure that his service of plate is no counterfeit, does not care whether his clever man be so or not. Let me now, however, give my own notions on the subject. I was once asked in company to define my idea of a clever man. I answered, "A man who combines original genius, with extensive reading." I was told that my definition was a good one, but that I required too much; now, here the vox populi was, as it is very apt to be, in the wrong; it was not a good definition, and the fault of it was, that I did not require enough. I should have added, that my clever man must possess practical knowledge and experience of the world, for without that qualification, he could never bring his abilities to bear, so as to be generally useful in society.

I AM exceedingly fond of the phrase a "Clever Man;" it is not always well applied, but it is always well intended; it implies respect on the part of the speaker, and conveys agrecable ideas to the mind of the hearer. I was somewhat baffled in this theory a few months ago, by a gentleman, of whose abilities 1 have a high opinion, who assured me, that he had often heard the term clever applied to men, whose only sign of acuteness lay in a keen, cunning, attentive eye to their own interests; but when we came to discuss the point, he allowed that such men were only called "clever fellows." Now this gives the phrase a completely different bearing; the familiarity of the subA clever man should have tact enough to stantive in a great degree neutralises the know when to be silent, and when and how praise of the adjective; people speak of a to speak; he should be as well versed in the clever fellow in a tone of contemptuous ad- study of men as of books, and a person who miration, as they do for instance of a rope- has lived in retirement, or in a limited circle, dancer, who performs feats which they can- can no more be fully acquainted with the fornot do themselves, but which they would not mer, than one who has merely opened a few do, even if they could. A "clever man," authors, can be thoroughly skilled in the lathowever, is spoken of with the deference ter. My definition, therefore, was as faulty which mental superiority must always com- as if I had been asked to define a good singer, mand: for my own part, I consider an intro- and replied, "A person who unites a fine duction to a clever man as a decided favor voice with an accurate ear:" these are cerand benefit. I do not, at present, say a word tainly important requisites, but knowledge of about clever women, because it is my wish to musical science is indispensable, to regulate treat only of the highest order of talent; and and keep them in order; and knowledge of I am no disciple of Mary Wolstonecraft, no the world, in the same way, can alone enable advocate for the equality of the sexes. I am the clever man to turn his originality to good certainly of opinion, that there are many wo- account. One of the disappointments which men of decided intellect, that the education of I have suffered so often, that I have now bethe present day unfolds such intellect more come quite hardened to it, is, being introduced than that of the past century, and that the im- to a clever man, and finding out that he is provements of future days may unfold it still an eminent classical scholar, and nothing else. more, but there my concessions must cease; I do not mean to deny that a classical scholar as the education of women progresses, so does may be a clever man in all the particulars I that of men; they must always keep far in have enumerated, but his classical abilities advance of us, and the cleverest woman of do not necessarily render him so. I have this age, or of any other, if in company with sometimes also been entrapped into the idea a really clever man, will, if she be prudent, that I am going to meet a clever man, and give up all thoughts of rivalling his conversa- have found that he is only clever and distintion, and be contented to admire, and to profit guished in his own profession. What is it to by it. This would be a delightful world if all me that a man is pre-eminently excellent and the clever men we hear of deserved the skilful in medicine or in the law, unless I wish term; but alas! I have so often been intro-to become his patient, or his client? The