TO THE EDITOR OF

GAWTHROP'S MAGAZINE.

I have been lately looking over some of our early magazines; in doing which, I have been struck with astonishment at the paucity, the inanity, and (sotto voce) pravity of their contents. Even those most popular in their day are not free from this charge; and I will be bound to say, not one of them would, at this moment, find circulation to maintain itself if attempted to be published. I, however, do not wish to detract unnecessarily from their merits. In many of the old things, we may turn up a good article occasionally. They must be respected, also, as the forerunners of that glorious harvest of "good things," which teem so abundantly from the press of our day. I must really say, your Journal gained by the contrast; and congratulate the town in having such a promising periodical.

Were I asked the question-How would you undertake to develope the latent talent of any town, say our own Liverpool, and display it to the most advantage ? I would not hesitate to reply-issue a local Magazine. The reason why so many towns are not remarkable or famed for the possession of talent, is, in my opinion, the having no local medium for its display.

There is a pride, and a praiseworthy laudable pride it is, in seeing our productions in print; in seeing our names attached to an article; of showing to our friends and acquaintances the evidences of our genius ;. and of knowing that they are read and appreciated. There is, too, a healthful excitement to produce something, and to produce that something well; all which afford an opportunity of developing the mental faculties; which is not attainable to such an extent, or so advantageously, by any other means.

On the locality, too, where such a periodical is issued, it may be made to exert a salutary influencein the correction of morals, and the scourging of vice both which subjects need constant and zealous watching, in order that degeneracy may not insidiously creep in upon us, as a community, or as a nation.

Perhaps I may be thought to estimate their value too highly; but I think, after due consideration, such publications will be found to possess all the advantages for which I contend, and more. Look at the multiplicity of subjects to which our young men may turn their attention; all holding out inducements of the most charming kind, in the various departments of art, science, and literature. To spend a few hours a week in describing their pursuits, or that particular department of knowledge which they have chosen to

follow, and to give these papers publicity in a weekly journal would assuredly be profitable to themselves, and beneficial to the community.

The public in general are too busied about their concerns to give up much of their time to the pursuits of philosophy: yet many of them would like to see science arrayed in a plain, unsophisticated dress, freed from the crabbed technicalities which disfigured her heretofore, and confined her usefulness to a few.

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It is an old saying and true, "if you wish to learn, you must teach;" which is axiomatic. The act of communicating knowledge, imprints it more deeply on the memory; makes known our deficiencies, and corrects them; and enlarges the field of our observation. The same thing holds true with regard to the " dispensing" of the same modity" by writing. We are anxious to have our communications as faultless as may be; for which reason we take pains to make them so, by bestowing corresponding diligence upon them. Writing," says Bacon," makes the correct man ;" and nothing else can give that precision and finish to our discourse, as well as to our conceptions, that the practice of writing does. It is, too, a habit easily acquired.

66

Let me say that your Magazine is calculated to do good; it only needs support-and if our young men studied their own interests, they would hail its appearance with gladness.

To another class of society a few words may be addressed, in order to awaken their attention towards your journal.

Many of our townsmen have had great experience in the course of their lives, both of men and things. We cannot imagine that, "the sojourn of their pilgrimage" has been barren of both interest and instruction. Will they allow their experience to die with them? Your columns might be made the vehicle of much that is delightful, if these gentlemen but took the trouble to give us a few of their "incidents of travel," their impression of men and manners, at home or abroad, and their reminiscences of the great. Many a delineation would thus be obtained, of vast utility for the guidance, conduct, counsel of life, drawn on the chequered chart whereby the young have to steer their course..

This knowledge will not be less interesting, less valuable, or less appreciated, though communicated at intervals, in detached, fragmentary portions. Wth best wishes for success, I am, sir,

Mount Pleasant.

G. W. C.

Greenwood and Mortimer left Yorkshire, and travelled towards the north of England. The route they took is not mentioned in Greenwood's journal, but from the following sketch of a character with whom he met at Lancaster, we will suppose that town the next at which he and Mortimer made any stay.

From Henry's journal it appears to have been his humour at this period of his life to make himself acquainted with every shade of human character down to the very lowest, and he sought, with as much eagerness and curiosity as an antiquarian would the gold coins of the Ptolomies, or as a poet would one of the present reign, the presence of those whose eccentricities made them remarkable, and, if we may be allowed the expression, whose strength and distinctness of colouring made them easy subjects to study. The object which Henry had in view, we believe, was to make the same use of his sketches as the celebrated Smollett did, namely, to introduce them into a novel, which he contemplated writing and publishing. This novel Greenwood, unfortunately, did not live to complete, or doubtless, these hastily-drawn, but, at the same time, powerfully and truthfully-drawn characters would have been before now introduced to the world as taking part in some of the most interesting scenes of a most interesting story, instead of being introduced, as they are now, in the memoirs of the author himself. Henry, as he himself relates, met the following villains who, it seems, had but just been released from Lancaster Castle, at a house of entertainment near that ancient town.

The fellows made the first use of their liberty, in drinking to unlimited excess. During the unguarded madness of their intoxication, Henry and Mortimer overheard the following dialogue, which, though it may disgust some, conveys so much that may be useful to the moralist and the statesman, that it is here reported entire, with the exception of a multitude of dreadful oaths which were uttered, but which, in print, are better omitted.

SONG.

will lead a rover's life,
I will live quite free,

I will lead a rover's life;
No slaving work for me.

Let

poor mechanics work and toil
For all the live-long-day;

Let tillers in the hot sun broil
Until they sweat away.
But I will lead a rover's life,
I will live quite free,

I will lead a rover's life;

No slaving work for me. When out of blunt my pocket's got, Why then I'll try to beg, And if dame Fortune favours not, I'll give some chap the leg. And I will lead a rover's life,

I will live quite free,

I will lead a rover's life;
No slaving life for me.
And if to prison I am sent,

To stay a month or two,

I care not for I shall be pent
Up with a jovial crew,
So I will lead a rover's life,
And I will live quite free,
I will lead a rover's life;

No slave's hard work for me.

They were silent for a few minutes; the first that spoke, asked on what day the fight between Ironside and Neverflinch would take place. The principal ruffian answered, 'It will come on some day next month; I intend to bet £100 on, and if I lose that wager I'll never bet again.' 'How will you raise the money suppose you lose'? asked one. Oh, said the other, 'I'll bring that along with me, never fear.' Then putting his hand into his pocket, he drew out a large knife, apparently rusty. This knife,' continued he, has seen service before to-day, and it shall see service again before I've done with it.' Thou'lt stretch it yet,' significantly hinted his friend. 'I care not, if I do, I'm not afraid of dying; men only came into the world to go out again, and, what matters it how we go or when? Had you been with me at the battle of you would have seen a sight which would have made you not think much either about dying yourself or sending another out of the world before you: why, there we had to climb over heaps of dead and dying men and horses -the word was 'fire away, lads,' and we did fire away above a bit, ha! ha! I shall never forget that day large pits were dug, into which I saw dead bodies flung by hundreds, and quick lime was thrown in along with them to burn them away-some men I

saw lying on the ground, groaning in the bitterest agonies, on account of the great pain they suffered from their wounds-others were heaving their last breath, with curses upon the hour they first enlisted for soldiers. You would have thought that the living would have commisserated the dying, nay, but there was no time for commisseration then, besides, the sight had become too common to attract notice; it's true, that now and then, a soldier who was new to war would go and assist the poor devils as much as they could, but most of us were too busy enriching ourselves from the dead to take notice of the sufferings of the dying. Well, now, here was committing murder, if you like, by wholesale; here were thousands and thousands of men shot and stabbed, and no one made any fuss about it-they were never missed out of the world; Why then should one man be? If I shoot or stab a man in peace, he goes through no more pain than those fellows did in the war, and what harm then can there be in killing one man, when there was none in killing so many thousands ? I do it for the purpose of enrichiug myself—of enjoying all the luxuries money can purchase-that's all that it is worth while living, for, what a precious fool a man must be, if, out of a mere scruple of what he calls conscience, he tamely drags out a miserable existence, in want of even the common necessaries of life, when he sees that all the world around him care not a curse for others, so they can manage to fish pretty well for themselves-we see plainly enough that every man is a rogue, though some are slyer rogues than others. Some pick men's pockets, at the same time pretending to be their warmest friends-parsons, by frightning people with the notion that they'll go to hell-lawyers, by creating quarrels, and statesmen, by gulling the public, and creating party feeling. Ay, lads, I've seen enough of the world to know that one man is richer than another only by roguery, and that one man will lord over another as long as the other is fool enough to let him; it was never intended by Nature that one man should be above another, but, that the produce of the earth should be equally divided among all. It is only by robbery that the land has got divided between a few-does not the history of England tell us that this country was robbed of every thing valuable, and the inhabitants slaughtered, and the land divided among them by some of the greatest villians that were ever on the earth, that came over from France. Yet, these men are not called robbers and murderers, but every thing great and noble; then, as we see all the world besides are villains, does it not

become necessary that we should be the same? I know I was once in very different circumstances to what I am now. I was the son of a respectable man, and after his death, which took place while I was young, I came possessed of a good round sum of money, but, by a most infamous piece of villany I was done out of it; it was then I took to drinking first, and in a fit of drunkenness, not caring a curse what became of me, I allowed myself to be enlisted as a soldier, I then soon got hardened, and learned to look with indifference upon the shedding of human blood, but now

I will lead a rover's life,
I will live quite free,
I will lead a rover's life;
No slaving work for me.

So come, lads, let us be off, ' for time is on the wing.' After saying this, he rose and led the way out of the house, his companions followed him, uttering some indistinct sentences, and occasionally laying hold of whatever was nearest to them to support themselves. After they had taken their departure, Greenwood for sometime remained in an attitude of serious

meditation; at length he thus addressed Mortimer:

So it is with man-circumstances make him what he is this villian, perhaps, would now have been a different person, but for his trust in one unworthy of it-through having been defrauded of all he had by one whom he thought his friend, and to whom he was anxious to do a kindness-he looks upon all mankind with a jaundiced eye-thus it is, men run from one extreme to another: this man, through his kindness and confidence having been abused by one, thinks he can depend upon none, and that all mankind are robbers-he hates his fellow-man with the hatred of a Timon-the natural disgust he might have of seeing cruelties committed, having been overcome by the scenes he has witnessed in a field of battle, he would not now hesitate to commit the most horrid deed-to murder a fellow-being! Suppose this individual had been placed in different circumstances, he has been gifted with strong intellect, and he has equally strong passions. Suppose his confidence had not been abused, but that the one he had benefited, had shewn the deepest sense of gratitude,

the consequence would have been, that he would have taken pleasure in doing good, and, instead of resorting to public-houses-indulging in intoxicating li quors-mixing with the most degraded of human beings, and being carried away with rage at the unjust treatment he had received he might have made it his study how to do further good-he might

have taken a delight in studying books, and have proved a useful and ornamental member of society -his bad passions, instead of being called into play, would have been lulled to sleep, and his intellectual faculties, instead of being exercised in making invectives on mankind, and giving plausible reasons for the most diabolical conduct and notions, might have been employed in making scientific investigation, or engaged in the highest walks of literature. Who, then, can say that man is not the creature of circumstances?

Does not the scene we have just witnessed prove also how little the present mode of punishing criminals tends to reform their characters? These men who have just now left us are as ready to perpetrate the crimes for which they have been imprisoned as they were before they were confined. Our prison discipline must certainly want altering-crime, instead of being abolished, still prevails to an alarming extent-our towns are infested with criminals, and the jails continue to be filled, which, surely, clearly prove that the proper remedy for improving the bad is not yet brought into operation.

ON THE DEMORALIZING TENDENCY OF THE PRACTICE

OF

PRIZE FIGHTING.

Prize Fighting' is one of those disgusting, brutal, and inhuman exhibitions, which, even in the nineteenth century, the boasted age of civilisation and refinement, is not only sanctioned, but warmly supported and encouraged. It is much to be regretted, that men who lay claim to superior wisdom and refined humanity should so far forget and degrade themselves, as to patronize such disgraceful spectacles as prize fights. It is humiliating in the lowest degree. Every one, therefore, who truly wishes this foul stain upon our national character to be eradicated, mankind purged from such abominable practices, ought to lend every nerve to assist in the accomplishment of an object so morally important.

This may be well and effectually done by zealously using every effort to bring such revolting exhibitions into general disgrace, contempt and abhorrence, and having succeeded in rendering them unpopular, depriving them of the support and applause necessary for their existence, it would not require a 'sage' to predict their speedy cessation.

Prize fighting would then, only be known as matter of history; its baneful influences would be removed from amongst us, and this accursed blot upon the British name happily removed; may the period not be far distant when so glorious an advent shall have been accomplished. 'Consummation devoutly to be wished."

This cleansing having been effected, a vast change in the moral condition of a large portion of the community might reasonably be expected, the time which hitherto

bad been worse than wasted upon such worthless objects might then be devoted to useful attainments and laudable pursuits.

Then, indeed, might it, with more semblance of truth' be said we are more refined than our ancestors were, superior education has expanded our intellect, improved our faculties, and elevated us much higher in the scale of morality. That exhibitions and amusements they encouraged and patronised, were digusting and degrading, that, in their days ball-baiting bear-baiting, prize-fighting, cock-fighting, &c., &c., were common occurrences, and beheld with pleasure, if not with heart-felt satisfaction, showing that their reason, humanity, and all the finer feelings of man were in abeyance through ignorance and the customs of the age, but now, such is not the case; we have none of these-our amusements and exhibitions are of a much higher and more intellectual character: they are those which tend to exalt, not to debase the mind. Amusement is now coupled with instruction, so that while we are catering for the gratification of fancy, it is our endeavour to mix or serve up with the entertainment something that will be of utility. Instead of being admirers of the prize ring, and beholding, with rapture, human beings attacking one another with the ferocity common to wild beasts-loudly applauding each succeeding murderous blow-every fresh extraction of goreevery demon-like hurling to the ground of the combatants -exhausting their strength-distorting their featuresbruising their bodies-and banishing their reason, we visit museums, attend lectures upon useful and instructive subjects, or, otherwise devote our leisure time to the pursuit of practical knowledge, so, that while our fancy is delighted, the mind is gathering and laying up store, available in times of need, anticipating the wants of old age. When our 'walk through life' is fast hastening to its terminus, pains and aches racking our bones, and physical relief impossible, we may still find some solace of the mind in the remembrance of the pleasing and instructive recreations of our youth. Are not these rational modes of enjoyment? Do they not savour more of refinement, and intellectuality than the supporters of the prize ring can lay claim to? Every unbiassed person who gives or has given the subject the least rational consideration must, at once, without any reservation, admit that such is the fact. Having made this admission, we must then draw the natural inference, that prize fighting, and all such debasing and demoralizing practices ought to be discouraged and discountenanced, and those who would still continue to support and encourage them, looked upon by their fellow-men as beings of so grovelling and corrupt a nature as to be totally unfit to mingle with respectable members of society. Such treatment would, it is believed, soon have the desired effect, and this horde of barbarous ruffians, when deprived of public support and approbation would, in a comparatively short period, become useful and rational creatures, instead of being, as they are now, a blemish of the greatest magnitude upon the moral character of Great Britain.

(To be continued.)