the English ambassador, some Bibles were imported from England. Yet more than thirty years elapsed before any Bible was printed in Scotland, but in 1568 a "Psalm Buik," in the end whereof was found "ane lewd song, called, Welcome Fortunes,' was printed, which gave great offence to the General Assembly, who ordered the printer to call them in. In 1576 appeared an edition of the Geneva translation, with a dedication to King James, in the Scotch language. In 1579, a Bible for the use of Scotland, by the Commissioners of the Kirk, was printed. And in 1610, Hart's Bible appeared, which contains numerous engravings throughout of scriptural countries, events, and things. The Scotch Bibles are more ambitious of sculptures than could have been expected in that country in such an age. The first edition of 1576 is handsomely printed in a sharp roman letter, printed in folio, by Thomas Bassandine. The DOUAY BIBLE is the Catholic version, and was first printed --the New Testament at Rheims, in 1582, and the Old at Douay, in 1609-10. 8000 more. The WELSH BIBLE was first 'printed in 1568, with a Latin dedication to Queen Elizabeth. The version of 1620, now in use, says Anthony à Wood, is one of the best translations extant, and much better than the English. In 1630, an edition in 8vo was printed at the expense of several citizens of London; and another in 1654, of which 5000 copies were printed. Again, in 1677, Various other editions in folio, 4to. and 8vo. from 1690-1779. In 1799, 10,000 copies were printed. In later years the Society for promoting Christian Knowledge, and the British and Foreign Bible Society, have circulated various editions. Mr. D'Israeli, in his "Curiosities of Literature," has an article, "The Pearl Bibles, and six thousand Errata," in which he has given some notable specimens of the blunders which were perpetrated in the printing of Bibles in earlier times. The great demand which existed for Bibles prompted unscrupulous persons to supply the demand without much regard to carefulness or "The learned Usher," Mr. D'Israeli tells us, accuracy. day hastening to preach at Paul's Cross, entered the shop of one of the stationers, as booksellers were then called, and inquiring for a Bible of the London edition, when he came to look for his text, to his astonishment and his horror, he discovered that the verse was omitted in the Bible! This gave the first occasion of complaint to the king, of the insufferable negligence and incapacity of the London press; and, says the MS. writer of this anecdote, first bred that great contest which followed, between the University of Cambridge and the London Stationers, about the right of printing Bibles." one Even during the reign of Charles I. and at the period of the Commonwealth, the manufacture of spurious Bibles was carried on to an alarming extent. English Bibles were fabricated in Holland for cheapness, without any regard to accuracy. Twelve thousand of these (12mo) Bibles, with notes, were seized by the king's printers as contrary to the statute. The London and Cambridge printers undersold each other, till the price of folio Bibles, which were ten shillings in quires, was reduced to five, considerably under cost price. A large impression of these Dutch-English Bibles were burnt, by order of the Assembly of Divines, for certain errors. The Pearl 24mo Bible, which was printed by Field 1653, contains some scandalous blunders; for instance, Romans vi 13. “Neither yield ye your members as instruments of righteousness unto sin❞—for unrighteousness. 1 Cor. vi. 9, "Know ye not that the unrighteous shall inherit the kingdom of God?"— for shall not inherit. We shall take up the subject of Bibles in a larger sense on a subsequent occasion; and conclude this article by informing the curious reader, that there is a MS. Bible, in the King's Library, in 2 vols. 4to. It was written for George the Third, by Alexander Weir, student of divinity, and is an extraordinary specimen of penmanship, beautifully small; has every dot and mark of the standard 4to edition; the marginal references, chapter heads, and every identical thing, even the italic words are distinguished. The book is beautifully neat and clean, and in capital preservation. The patience and labour thrown away on this production might have been worthy of high praise in monkish times; to do such a thing now is at best but an elaborate folly. LOYALTY. IN the reciprocal services of lord and vassal, there was ample The scope for every magnanimous and disinterested energy. heart of man, when placed in circumstances which have a tendency to excite them, will seldom be deficient in such sentiments. No occasions could be more favourable than the protection of a faithful supporter, or the defence of a beneficent suzerain against such powerful aggression as left little prospect except of sharing in his ruin. From these feelings engendered by the feudal relation, has sprung up the peculiar sentiment of personal reverence and attachment towards a sovereign, which we denominate loyalty, alike distinguishable from the stupid devotion of Eastern slaves, and from the abstract respect with which free citizens regard their chief magistrate. Men who had been used to swear fealty, to profess subjection, to follow, at home and in the field, a feudal superior and his family, easily transferred the same allegiance to the monarch. It was a very powerful feeling which could make the bravest man put up with slights and ill treatment at the hands of his sovereign, or call forth all the energies of disinterested exertion, for one whom he never saw, and in whose character there was nothing to esteem. In ages when the rights of the community were unfelt, this sentiment was one great preservative of society; and though collateral, or even subservient to more enlarged principles, it is still indispensable to the tranquillity and permanence of every monarchy. In a moral view, loyalty has scarcely perhaps less tendency to refine and elevate the heart than patriotism itself, and holds a middle place in the scale of human motives, as they ascend from the grosser inducements of selfinterest, to the furtherance of general happiness, and conformity to the purposes of infinite wisdom.-Hallam's Middle Ages. TO THE WINDS. YE viewless minstrels of the sky! Still thoughts like these are but of earth, Ye came we know not whence! Though audible to sense. The sun-his rise and set we know ; The moon-her wax and wane; But you his search disdain. Ye restless, homeless, shapeless things! Like spirits in a dream, But one. To me, when fancy stirs BERNARD BARTON. MUSICAL EDUCATION OF THE PEOPLE. ENGLAND has long been stigmatised as a non-musical nation, and, to a great extent, the stigma is deserved. Whether it is that a predilection for the useful and the solid has hitherto left no room for the cultivation and full enjoyment of the "softer arts" among the masses, emphatically denominated the people; or that they have been occupied for the last century with steam-engines, spinning-jennies, and rail-roads, to the exclusion of the relaxing, and what some may consider the enervating, influences of sweet sounds, we leave for speculating philosophers to decide. Certain it is, that in this country the science of music shrouds itself up in an aristocratic exclusiveness, and is confined to the concertroom, the theatre, or to the singing-club. Places of worship are scarcely to be added to the list; for the rude state in which too generally parochial psalmody still remains, can hardly be classed as music. 66 forests and the groves, it whispers in the breeze, it murmurs in In every voice of love. these solemn and majestic voices, this daily appeal to the heart Suppose the world destitute of all these sweet and melting accents. and the imagination; suppose this enchanting and endless variety all withdrawn, even for a short and single day, and in its stead dull monotony, and death-like silence. Ah, how would the most insensible heart and obtusest ear long and pray for its return, and own the beneficence of that power which had made all nature vocal!"* But if music has been created in the external world for the delight of man, he is gifted with it in a much higher degree within himself. The pleasure he can, if he chooses, derive from keeping his ears open to, his heart susceptible of, the " tuneful voice" of nature, is to be immeasurably increased by employing the powers for its production, with which he is gifted above the rest of nature, animate or inanimate. But it is only in the cultivation of music among the many, that the accusation of our being "deaf to the voice of the charmer" has full force; in their love for music Englishmen need not yield to the most musical communities. To all national or local rejoicings, bands are considered indispensable; street-players are encouraged to an extent that has made them so plentiful, that they are actually swelling into no inconsiderable integer of the British population; and few social meetings are thought tolerable without a song.' Among private families those who practise music with success, become at once celebrated among their particular friends; The most beautiful of all natural instruments for the production and it will always be found, that the "musical family" is always of sound is that which the Almighty has bestowed, in greater or looked up to and sought after more than its neighbours. The less perfection, upon all mankind, namely, the human voice. Yet, credit of having a good voice frequently introduces persons into the usual answer to the question, "Why do you not sing?" is, societies and connexions, from which, without that qualification," I have no voice:" which the very means employed to make the they would have been excluded; and so highly is an individual, reply disprove. It is a fact, which cannot be too impressively thus gifted, prized for his powers of song, that should you inquire inculcated, that every person with perfect organs has it in his into his character, you are not immediately told that he is a well-power to give utterance to musical sounds. It is a great and too conducted person, has a good temper, is an affectionate son, a kind general error to suppose, that unless an individual be gifted with brother, &c.; but you are eagerly informed that "he has such a a superior voice that he cannot sing at all. No one can tell how charming voice!" well he can sing till he tries. It is undeniable, that whoever can speak can sing, with greater or less success. tones of voice used to express different emotions, and even different sentences in ordinary conversation, are just as nicely discriminated as the various inflections of tone in a melody, though the range or compass of sound is not, during the former, so extensive. 4 In truth, to say that Englishmen in particular have but little taste for music, would be attributing to them a degree of insensibility that does not belong to the character of savages. The most barbarous men have a love for, and take a delight in, sounds, which, though not sufficiently refined to please a European, are quite equal to their desires and taste. Nature herself is filled with music, which it requires not art to awaken; and, as all external objects are adapted to the organs of man, it would indeed be strange if the appeals of inanimate nature to the ear were made in vain. "The empire of music," eloquently remarks the present Gresham professor of music, "may with truth be said to be universal, and the pleasure which it is capable of diffusing seems to have overspread all created existence. If the song of the lark is its jocund and instinctive welcome to the new-born day, we are also taught that the highest created intelligences circle their Maker's throne with songs of praise, and every intermediate link of that golden chain which descends from heaven to earth vibrates at its touch. Music is the language of nature *, and is, for that reason, a beautiful, an expressive, a varied language. It echoes in the "For all that pleasing is to living ear To th' instruments, divine respondence meet: Now soft, now loud, unto the wind did call; Here too is music! Does not the beautiful play of words in the last four lines The many Besides the objection of a bad or imperfect voice, persons with the organ of hearing in the best and most healthy condition for the ordinary purposes of life, frequently despair of enjoying music, because they may be se insensible to it that they can with difficulty distinguish one melody from another. But the functions of the ear are as readily to be improved as those of the voice. The constant habit of hearing good music will render the hearing so sensitive to ill-assorted sounds, as to receive the most painful sensations from the latter. Teachers of music constantly find, that beginners will endure and perpetrate the most heinous sins against harmony without the smallest consciousness or inconvenience; yet the same pupils, when they attain some proficiency, will not only readily detect any falsities of sound that they may hear, but will instinctively avoid them while performing themselves. It may also be generally remarked, that as families, in which music is much cultivated, increase, the young folks will, from constantly hearing it, acquire so complete a taste for the art, that they will not be long in feeling a desire to learn it. Thus it would be with adults. Were music so generally cultivated in the nation as to force it constantly upon them, we should seldom hear of persons having "no voice," or "no ear for music." The difficulty of learning to read music is, we are inclined to think, very much overrated. There was a time when the bulk of the community looked upon plain reading and writing as if a knowledge of them demanded superior natural gifts to acquire; but now, "Three inaugural lectures, delivered in the theatre of the City of London First lecture, School," by Edward Taylor, Gresham Professor of Music. pp. 13-15 happily, everybody is master of them. It may be set down as a general rule, that every English man and woman reads and writes: the exceptions-or those persons who can do neitherbeing looked upon with that kind of pity which unfortunates excite, who have some mental deficiency or bodily infirmity. We contend that the excuse for any person, who can read or write, that they have not sufficient natural capacity to study music with success, is quite inadmissible. It is evident that, with very few exceptions, they have capacity and feeling sufficient to enjoy its performance. Many expedients are resorted to by the labouring classes for agreeably spending their leisure time-for what is called "enjoying themselves." There are clubs for drinking beer and smoking tobacco, and debating societies for various purposes, with other contrivances for wasting money, and that which is far more valuable-time. But even smoking and drinking do not supply all the required enjoyment, which is seldom thought complete without "a song;" and any person who has learnt one by rote, and can give it utterance with a tolerable power of lungs, is sure of a hearty welcome. What an accession of happiness would there be if, instead of these, other clubs were formed, leaving out the beer and tobacco but retaining the song! Clubs, which may be removed from the alehouse to the happy fire-side, and held for the purpose of learning and studying music? Although it is unquestionably a great defect in our system of education, that vocal music is not regularly taught in schools, yet the difficulties of acquiring it are not so great as to render it out of the reach of grown-up persons. The ease with which students may attain sufficient knowledge of music to produce harmony, by singing together in parts, is much greater than is generally thought. The gamut is easily learnt. That conquered, a little daily practice in singing the scales, slowly at first and gradually quicker, would, in a short time, prove to the student that his belief of his having little or "no voice" is groundless. Then comes the difficulty, thought to be so great, of producing harmony by singing in parts; this, too, a little application will master. When the scales have been well learned, let the singer exercise his voice in distances, thus :-begin, for instance, with the note C, which he must take from some instrument (a pitch-pipe is the most simple one); then rise to its third E, from E to the fifth of C, which is G, and then to the octave C again. Let him then get a friend to join him, and sing one of the above notes while he sounds another. Thus will the ear become accustomed to harmony, and prevent each singer from taking up the other's note. By degrees another voice might join, and then a fourth, till at last the person who once thought it was quite out of his power to sing at all, will find himself assisting in the production of the most delightful vocal combinations. The mere songs he has been in the habit of hearing performed at the public house will have become distasteful to him; he will, perhaps, discover that they have been sung with false taste, and wretchedly out of tune; his ear will hardly be satisfied with mere melody, if even it be well executed, but he will desire it to be accompanied and filled up with harmonies. One principal advantage possessed by the system of education followed on the Continent over that pursued in England, is the making singing one branch of elementary knowledge. In Italy, and all over Germany, vocal music forms part of daily instruction, both in public and private schools. "While loitering through the street of St. Goar," says Mrs. Trollope, in her Belgium and Western Germany,' "we were surprised at hearing our own beautiful national hymn pealing from a large building near it; for my part I could not resist the temptation to enter the open door, and discover who the parties were who showed so excellent a taste in choosing an air, let the words to which they applied it be what they might. This building, I found, was used as a school-house, and on each side the door had a large room, one for girls the other for boys. It was the male part of this youthful population whose shrill voices were pouring forth the notes so familiar to our ears; they sang the air in parts, and with wonderful correctness." It is with pleasure, however, we observe the increasing desire for acquiring vocal instruction that is generally manifesting itself throughout Great Britain. In most of the manufacturing towns societies have been established for promoting it. At Glasgow, in particular, great progress has already been made. In London the "Sacred Harmonic Society" has succeeded beyond expectation; and although most of its members are respectable artisans, or persons engaged in trade, yet they have managed to find time and talent enough to execute the most elaborate oratorios, in a style which eminent musicians have pronounced to be decidedly superior to similar displays of the professional singers of London. The old controversy has been recently agitated,-to what extent are oratorios fit and proper for serious-minded persons to engage in, or to patronise by their presence? The question appears to us to be wholly a relative one, each case to be judged of by the particular circumstances connected with it. In recommending, for instance, young men to join in such exhibitions, as a suitable relaxation after a day of toil, we are not supposing that they will do such violence to the soul of music, as to trifle and dawdle over the subject, till they have vulgarised both sound and sense. Let them enter into it in a right and earnest spirit; and if they do so, the performance will not differ, in principle, from that necessary practice of psalm or hymn singing which is essential, when a congregation wishes to perform all portions of divine service "decently and in order. " If the moral and national happiness of the people would be improved by the general cultivation of music, how much more would their spiritual welfare be enhanced? Singing, though a minor duty, is as much a part of the Christian religion as worship -we are enjoined to praise as well as pray. Though the object of psalmody is chiefly to glorify the Creator, it should also produce such an effect upon the mind as to fit it for impressions to be received from religious instruction, and to frame it for prayer; but the manner in which parochial psalmody is at present executed, certainly cannot effect these objects. It is the custom in some parish churches, but more frequently in episcopal chapels, for the minister to print, for the use of his congregation, a selection of sacred lyrics. But it would materially forward the object we are advocating, if, besides the mere poetry of psalms and hymns, the music were published with the words in books for altos, trebles, tenors, and basses, and distributed amongst the congregation according to their voices. Even were such a plan adopted in the present general ignorance of music, it would not fail of having a good effect, for there are few respectable congregations among whom some knowledge of the science does not exist, and these would find the learning the harmonies to psalm tunes-the subject or trebles of which are already familiar to every church-goer—an easy task; the melody being, as usual, suppo ted by the charity children. Would not such an improved system of psalmody draw many persons to the house of God, on whom entreaties and example have been expended in vain? Has the reader never passed a church or a chapel, when he was in a listless, a desponding, or perhaps an irritated and evil mood, and felt the powerful influence of a multitude of concording voices? Let the following anecdote of the effect of church music upon savages (from Southey's 'History of Brazil ") answer the question : "Nolrega (a Jesuit) had a school where he instructed the native children, the orphans from Portugal, and the mestizos, or mixed breed. Reading, writing, and arithmetic, were taught them; they were trained to assist at mass, and to sing the church service, and frequently led in procession through the town. This had a great effect, for the natives were passionately fond of music, so passionately, that Nolrega began to hope the fable of Orpheus was a type of his mission, and that by songs he was to convert the pagans of Brazil. The Jesuit usually took with him four or five of these little choristers on his preaching expeditions; when they approached an inhabited place, one carried a crucifix before them and they began singing the Litany. The savages, like snakes, were won by the voice of the charmer; they received him joyfully, and when he departed, with the same ceremony the children followed the music. He set the catechism, creed, and ordinary prayers, to sol fa; and the pleasure of learning to sing was such a temptation that the little Tupis sometimes ran away from their parents to put themselves under the care of the Jesuit." We have a word or two to say also on the subject of instrumental music. Although it is obvious that the human voice is not only the best, but the cheapest and most ready of all instruments, yet there are others which are not above the reach of the poorest artisan. An alarming and melancholy report has lately gained currency, that in some manufacturing districts in the North of England, workmen are laying by a certain sum out of their hard weekly earnings for the purpose of buying-what? coals for the winter-bread for their families-clothes for their children? no; but rifles! For what purpose, one may well tremble to ask. Now if these deluded men are so well off as to be able to afford even sixpence a week each, for a purpose that can never turn to any other account than destruction; if they are able, after providing themselves and their families with the necessaries of life, to spare ever so small a sum, let us ask them whether the amount so accrued would not be much better employed in providing them with a humanizing, cheering, and even profitable source of amusement. These "targeteers" will perhaps smile at our suggestion, but we do most earnestly appeal to their reason and their hearts, when we advise them to leave off purchasing instruments of the vilest discord, and recommend them to lay in a stock of fiddles, &c. With the latter they will acquire also a lasting stock of happiness, content, and prosperity, Instead of forming themselves into societies for shooting at targets, let them meet to learn and practise overtures, symphonies, quartettes, &c. We are certainly not such enthusiasts as to imagine that poverty, destitution, and vice, are to be charmed away by all the string or wind instruments in Britain. We are just as anxious as any of our readers can be, to see remedial measures-effectual remedial measures-adopted to relieve the misery of a large portion of our population, and to see them advance in a just estimate of their rights and duties as men, and as citizens. But all of this matter that is pertinent to our present subject is simply this :-if workmen can spare money to purchase rifles, for which, in our social state, they cannot possibly have a fitting use, surely they can spare as much for what may be made available in tranquillising their spirits, soothing their sorrows, and, by aiding in the humanizing of the mind, render it a generous recipient of that knowledge which is power. We are quite sure that if, in large manufactories, masters were to encourage music among their people, they would find the interests of both much improved. The man who comes to his work after a drunken debauch can hardly do it equal justice with another who has been employing his time more like, in a manner more worthy of, a human being. At least one great firm is not insensible to such advantages. "The Messrs. William, George, and Joseph Strutt, of Derby, men of great wealth and acquirements, employ nearly the whole of the population of Belper and the neighbourhood, where their works, as cotton-spinners and manufacturers, are situated, a country not long since wild and barbarous, now highly cultivated by the intelligence they diffuse around them. To give a higher taste to the work-people at Belper, Mr. John Strutt has formed a musical society, by selecting forty persons or more from his mills and workshops, making a band of instrumental performers and a choir of singers. These persons are regularly trained by masters, and taught to play and sing in the best manner. Whatever time is consumed in their studies is reckoned into their working hours. On the night of the general muster you may see five or six of the forge-men in their leather aprons, blasting their terrific notes upon opheicleides and trombones. Soon after the commencement of the music-school, it was found that the proficients were liable to be enticed away and to commence as teachers of music. To remedy this, the members of the orchestra are bound to remain at his works for seven years. Mr. Strutt has ingeniously contrived an orchestra, with desks and boxes containing the instruments, to fold and pack up, so that with the addition of a pair of wheels, the whole forms a carriage, &c.; and with an omnibus for the performers, he occasionally moves the corps de musique to Derby, or the surrounding villages, where their services are required for charitable occasions. The liberality with which this musical establishment is supported is as extraordinary as its novelty. As an incentive to excellence, when he visits town, he occasionally takes half-a-dozen of his cleverest people with him, who are treated to the opera and the concerts to hear the finest performers of the age If the general study of music had no better effect than diverting the "greatest number" from less innocent employments, it would for no stronger reason be productive of much good; but, besides that, it humanises and soothes the mind, softens the manners, refines the taste, and raises the character. As an amusement, it promotes mirth" that after no repenting draws;" it is a most delightful ingredient in social enjoyment, and is a neverfailing help to good fellowship, order, and civilisation. THE PHILOSOPHY OF EATING. WHAT a glorious book has yet to be written on the "Philosophy of Eating !" It will contain moral and natural philosophy, history, biography, statistics, political economy, anecdote, notices of monsters, of men whose brains lay in their stomachs, and of others whose stomachs might be found in their brains! The writer will, of course, begin with the beginning of the world, and the creation history of the race before him. He will inquire very minutely as of man. Defining man as "a cooking animal," he has the whole to whether animal food was in use before the Deluge, linking this with an examination of the human teeth, and their carnivorous and herbivorous indications. Then he goes on to the Egyptians, and their exclusive system of eating, the feast which Joseph gave to his brethren, and the reason why there was a peculiar honour in sending his brother Benjamin five times more food than the rest. After which, he takes up the Mosaic polity-of clean and unclean creatures, and finds out, if he can, how much of those distinctions and prohibitions were based on a special regard to the bodily health of the Israelites, and how much was intended to have a their idolatrous neighbours. For as eating is the bond of friendsocial effect, in preserving them from contact and association with ship and of faith, so a separation in the matter of clean and unclean food has a most marvellous prohibitory power over the social tendencies. From thence, our author has to pass to the large field of the influence of diet on national character; he must find out how much of the "Roast beef of Old England" has its origin in the fact of animal food being the cheapest of all food in Anglo-Saxon times; what has been and is likely to be, the moral and physical effects of the transition from salt meat and thin ale, to tea and sugar; what the potato has done, and what is the influence on population from the quantity and quality of food; the cooking arts, and dining hours of all nations; tell us about the famous Apicius that invented the Apician cakes, and his less famous namesake, who invented the pickling of oysters; tell us about that extraordinary notability, a Scotch Apicius, John Hay, Earl of Carlisle, who made a great fortune and spent it by and in the art of tickling the palates of his guests-not forgetting Napoleon's celebrated dinner-giving great chancellor, Cambacères, nor any famous patron of cooks and cooking; while the book is to be found wound up with a profound disquisition on dyspepsia and gout; gelatinous, fibrous, and farinaceous food, and a tabular statement of how many meals delicate men may take in a day. If the "philosophy of eating" has yet to be written, the prac"Music and Friends, by William Gardener, pp. 311-13. tice of eating has yet to be much improved. Not that cookery is to be made a more tempting and provocative art than it is; not that we are to eat and drink any more than we do: but that the science of eating in all its branches has yet to receive far more attention from us, and to be extended and elevated. We were not merely made to eat, but to enjoy what we eat-to receive, what the lower animals cannot receive, moral satisfaction and social improvement from the very act of eating. This is defeated, when we attach too much importance to the dinner itself, or set too much value on mere dinner accomplishments, or, at some public entertainment, or on board, say, of a steam-boat, "take care of ourselves," without caring much for our neighbours. A truly social dinner is one where the whole party feel for all, and sympathise with all. While there should be that gracefulness of manner which gives a zest to every thing, no one who eats peas or fish with his knife should be made to feel as if he had committed a crime against morals. While all should be able to handle dinner apparatus with ease and propriety, no man who, from want of facility or mechanical dexterity, is unable to carve a goose without mangling it, should be made to feel as if he were a goose himself. A true gentleman never implies, by a single attitude, that he has been used to any other company better than that in which he is in at the time, unless something should occur requiring him to do so, in defence of his own feelings or character. It is, however, something more than an offence against etiquette, when all the rules of etiquette are observed in setting and arranging a dinner, and all the rules of social propriety are violated by those who eat it. A man may have a coarse and vulgar nature, who yet exhibits the most scrupulous and graceful propriety of manners and language at dinner: but there is far less likelihood of a man having a mind capable of polish, who is brutish and gross in his conduct. It is not the soup or the fish coming first that makes a dinner "polite." These remarks are made by way of introducing an American sketch, somewhat humorous, though rather broad and coarse. The likeness is avouched to be good, though it evidently runs into motives are of a high order; an honour to themselves, and a great light to the world. Example is everything. Punctuality is a jewel. WASHINGTON said so, and he was a man of veracity. The hour to dine, as specified in the rules and regulations, posted up in the "office," was three. Not one minute before or after three, but three precisely. Some inconsiderate man may think that a minute or two out of the way could make no material difference. Don't trust such a one with the conveyance of your wife and five small children to a steam-boat pier! Ten chances to one he misses the boat. "Time is money," and two minutes lost daily is seven hundred and forty minutes per annum. At this rate, supposing a man to live seventy years-a fair computation when we consider and four-sixtieths, are wasted in lifetime, by being two minutes the caoutchouc case of Joyce Heth-thirty-five days eleven hours behindhand at dinner! Shades of Washington, Franklin, and Dr. Alcott!-what a dissipation of money! It was of this that the men at the door ruminated. They wished, like Washington, to set a good example, in being punctual. If, in virtuously striving to excel in such a cause, they tread on each other's corns, and tumble ridiculous, it is our business not to laugh at, but to condole with over each other's heels, making themselves appear excessively them, as martyrs who suffer for our sake. Many a gouty toe has been ground into torture, in its owner's generous emulation to be first and most punctual at the dinner-table. What disinterested martyrdom ! The crowd have squeezed themselves into the room. Such a scrambling and jostling for seats! Spare the crockery. The dinfrom din comes dinner-redoubles. Such an outcry! Babel is music to it. "Waiter!" "Waiter!" "John!" "Waiter!" "Thomas!" "Thomas!" "Waiter!" "John!" "Thomas !" Soup!" "Soup !" "Soup !"-were iterated in all octaves, from contralto to soprano. I was a "looker-on in Vienna," when the scenes which follow occurred, and " I speak the things which I do know." "Give us a stout, hearty plate of soup, William!" said a short crimson-faced man, with an abdominal periphery like a semiglobe. As he gave this order for a second plate of soup, he shoved into the waiter's hand, open to receive the plate of a gentleman who had as yet secured nothing, his own dish, and bade him make haste. Ignorant of "dinner etiquette," as Fanny Kemble styles it, a dozen of those around us had at once commenced on the solids; which of course made the rest work like beavers to finish their soup; and some of those at the end of the table, who caricature. It is from the 'Knickerbocker,' a New York maga- having but just received the initial liquid, were still sipping after zine. A HOTEL DINNER. FROM NOTES IN PENCIL, ON THE BACK OF A BILL of fare. How startling is the sound of the dinner-gong! The tympanum suddenly recoils beneath the swell of the brazen instrument, and echoes the alarum to its fellow member of the lower house, of which Appetite is the speaker. In a large hotel the effect is magical. What a rush from all quarters of the house to the dining-room! Chambers, offices, and closets, are hastily deserted by their occupants, that the elements of an unspeakable hurly-burly may mingle at the table-d'hôte. Loungers in the street catch the sound with wonderful acuteness, and hasten homeward to the hotel. The boarder under the barber's hands frets at the practitioner's slowness, gets cut while uttering a violent oath, starts up, looking daggers, and wiping the soap hastily from his half-shaved chin, seizes his hat, and rushes to the place of feed. In one dense crowd, they pour in at the door; pushing and squeezing, jostling and swearing, as if life itself depended upon the celerity of their entrance. Dignity is nothing, decency is nothing. A choice seat at the table is everything. The twenty or thirty individuals who are already seated at the head of the board, and in the immediate vicinity of the choicest eatables, are "old heads;" they have "cut their eye teeth;" they are "up to snuff;" or, to cut the classics, and descend to homely English, they know how to dine in an American hotel; an accomplishment by no means to be lightly regarded. Every day, about half an hour before the dinner hour, they station themselves near the door of the dining-room, and, with a patience worthy of Job, Await its opening. Barely does John the waiter have time to sound the gong, the notes of which I have said are so magical, before they dart by him, and the last vibration of the brazen monitor finds the men of brass seated at the table. Some unsophisticated persons may think this a contemptible subserviency to the appetite; if so, they do the worthies much injustice. Their their luckier friends at the favoured end of the table had concluded, were admonished of the necessity of making haste, by the removal of their plates by the impatient waiters. Waiters are systematic. People should be more simultaneous in eating soup. A polite man swallows his, scalding hot, that he may keep pace with his more fortunate neighbour. "Here! here! you rascal, bring my soup!" bawled out a man with a thin vinegar aspect. His plate had suffered abduction, The waiter feigned not to hear. The wrinkles on the pungent face visibly sharpened. That look would have soured an entire dairy. In a voice thin and sharp as his features, he exclaimed, "Here! here! you unmannerly Irish scape-goat! (Ah! you hear at last, do you?) bring back my soup instantly!" "It's ag'in' the rules, Sir-r; I can't do it, Sir-r! But here's a beautiful arrangement!" replied the Irishman, passing a bill of fare. "I want my soup, you Irish blackguard !'' "Can't do it, Sir-r; the rules must be observed. Can't give you any more soup, Sir-r; the mates is on, Sir-r; them must be ate nixt; them's the rule, Sir-r;" and the waiter ran to answer a call farther up the table. The discontented man swore as terribly as if he had formed one of the celebrated army in Flanders. "Pretty hotel this! Excellent regulations! Polite servants! Must eat meat, must I? I'll see 'em hanged first. Here you Chowder-head, bring back my "Green peas, gen'lemen-green peas," squeaked a bean-pole waiter, with a nose like a sausage, and little twinkling eyes. A dozen hands grabbed convulsively at the dish. Green peas were a great rarity; a fact sufficiently evinced by the complacent air of the servant, as he announced them. A dish of gravy and a bottle of catsup were upset in the scuffle, much to the annoyance of the sour man, in whose lap a greater part of the first sought a dépôt. "You have got your soup, I find, sir!" said a wag opposite, at which everybody laughed; and one individual at an untimely |