path: root/77269-0.txt

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77269 ***




                           THE PENNY MAGAZINE

                                 OF THE

             Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

 36.]                   PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY.     [October 27, 1832

------------------------------------------------------------------------


                          THE BOA CONSTRICTOR.

     [Illustration: The Boa Constrictor about to strike a Rabbit.]

One of the most interesting objects in the fine collection of animals at
the Surrey Zoological Gardens, is the Boa Constrictor. Curled up in a
large box, through the upper grating of which it may be conveniently
examined, this enormous reptile lies for weeks in a quiet and almost
torpid state. The capacity which this class of animals possess of
requiring food only at very long intervals, accounts for the inactive
condition in which they principally live; but when the feeling of hunger
becomes strong they rouse themselves from their long repose, and the
voracity of their appetite is then as remarkable as their previous
indifference. In a state of confinement the boa takes food at intervals
of a month or six weeks; but he then swallows an entire rabbit or fowl,
which is put in his cage. The artist who made the drawing for the above
wood-cut, saw the boa at the Surrey Zoological Gardens precisely in the
attitude which he has represented. The time having arrived when he was
expected to require food, a live rabbit was put into his box. The poor
little quadruped remained uninjured for several days, till he became
familiar with his terrible enemy. On a sudden, while the artist was
observing the ill-sorted pair, the reptile suddenly rose up, and,
opening his fearful jaws, made a stroke at the rabbit, who was climbing
up the end of the box; but, as if his appetite was not sufficiently
eager, he suddenly drew back, when within an inch of his prey, and sunk
into his wonted lethargy. The rabbit, unconscious of the danger, which
was passed for a short season, began to play about the scaly folds of
his companion; but the keeper said that his respite would be brief, and
that he would be swallowed the next day without any qualms.

All the tribe of serpents are sustained by animal food. The smaller
species devour insects, lizards, frogs, and snails; but the larger
species, and especially the boa, not unfrequently attack very large
quadrupeds. In seizing upon so small a victim as a rabbit, the boa
constrictor would swallow it without much difficulty; because the
peculiar construction of the mouth and throat of this species enables
them to expand so as to receive within them animals of much larger bulk
than the ordinary diameter of their own bodies. But in those cases where
the serpent attacks a large quadruped, such as an antelope, he entwines
himself round his prey, and by his great muscular power crushes the
principal bones, so that the dimensions of the victim are considerably
reduced, and after a series of efforts which sometimes approach to
strangulation, the monster makes an end of his meal. There are stories
of the boa constrictor destroying even the buffalo and the tiger, by
crushing them in this manner by the astonishing force of its muscles. We
shall confine ourselves at present to a well-authenticated account of
the voracious appetite of a serpent of this species, which was brought
from Batavia, in the year 1817, on board a vessel which conveyed Lord
Amherst and his suite to England.

This serpent was of large dimensions, though not of the very largest. A
living goat was placed in his cage. He viewed his prey for a few
seconds, felt it with his tongue, and then, withdrawing his head, darted
at the throat. But the goat, displaying a courage worthy of a better
fate, received the monster on his horns. The serpent retreated, to
return to the combat with more deadly certainty. He seized the goat by
the leg, pulled it violently down, and twisted himself with astonishing
rapidity round the body, throwing his principal weight upon the neck.
The goat was so overpowered that he could not even struggle for escape.
For some minutes after his victim was dead the serpent did not change
his posture. At length he gradually slackened his grasp, and having
entirely disengaged himself, he prepared to swallow the lifeless body.
Feeling it about with his mouth, he began to draw the head into his
throat; but the horns, which were four inches in length, rendered the
gorging of the head a difficult task. In about two hours the whole body
had disappeared. During the continuance of this extraordinary exertion
the appearance of the serpent was hideous; he seemed to be suffering
strangulation; his cheeks looked as if they were bursting; and the horns
appeared ready to protrude through the monster’s scales. After he had
accomplished his task, the boa measured double his ordinary diameter. He
did not move from his posture for several days, and no irritation could
rouse him from his torpor.


                         ---------------------


                    THE LABOURERS OF EUROPE.--No. 3.

In the province of Naples, or “Campania the blest,” as it is called,
from the great fertility of its soil and its genial climate, the farms
are generally small. The corn returns eight or ten for one, and the land
is not left fallow occasionally for a year, but ploughed and sown with
something else. Frequently after harvest it is immediately sown with the
scarlet trefoil, which, when in flower, looks like a crimson carpet
spread over the verdant field. Rows of elms and mulberry trees,
festooned with branches of the vine, divide the various possessions;
while the fig, the lemon, and the orange, grow in the gardens freely and
to their full size. The high ridges of the mountains afford rich
pastures, safe from the heat and drought of the plains; the sides are
covered with forests of chesnut trees, which afford an important article
of food to the poor; while the lower declivities are occupied by olive
plantations yielding a valuable and easy harvest. In this favoured
region the inhabitants, indolent as they are, can easily procure their
daily subsistence. Their cabins exhibit in many instances the appearance
of slovenliness, but seldom that of indigence. The farmer’s rent is paid
sometimes in money, sometimes in kind, such as grain, oil, &c. The
leases are generally renewed from generation to generation. The farmer
is a peasant, with no capital; he works his farm chiefly with the
assistance of his family. These people have some domestic comforts, good
beds, coarse, but good linen, a table, a few chairs, and a large chest
for their clothes. They eat with their fingers out of one dish, and all
the family drink out of the same glass. They are hospitable, however, in
their way, but they are coarse and uninformed, having not, like the
Tuscan peasants, an opportunity of intercourse with the educated
classes. Few know how to read or write, or cast accounts; they sometimes
hardly know the name of their landlord. The women dress very showily on
holidays, and they generally have gold ear-rings, necklace and cross.
Daily labourers are paid about two carlins, or eight pence, a day, and
somewhat more at harvest time. But they are engaged only a small part of
the year, and they employ the rest of their time in cutting wood in the
forests, in charcoal making, and other occasional jobs. They offer
themselves as guides to travellers, assuming the absurd appellation of
_Cicerone_; and sometimes, for lack of other employment, they join the
banditti in some expedition just to try their fortune, after which they
return quietly to their native village and resume their rural
occupations. Pot-houses or wine-shops are very numerous, and to these
the idlers resort on holidays, after mass, to play and drink. This was
once a source of frequent quarrels, ending often in bloodshed and
murder. But by the present laws (for the Neapolitan criminal justice has
somewhat improved) the vintner is made answerable for any mischief that
happens in his house, and there is no longer any asylum for criminals,
in consequence of which blows are seldom given. The farmers, however, do
not much frequent the wine-shops; they prefer selling their own wine,
and remaining at home on Sundays to see their children dance the
_tarantella_. Of this dance they are never tired.

The vintage is the season of universal rejoicing. The vines are planted
thick, and allowed to grow luxuriantly, and to spread in high festoons
from tree to tree, forming shady alleys into which the rays of the sun
can hardly penetrate. At vintage time a man first cuts the middle
branches between one tree and another, so as to make a lane for the cart
to go through. The cart is drawn by a fine well-fed ox, and on it is a
large tub; the men carry long narrow ladders, by which they ascend the
trees, and having filled the baskets with grapes, they throw them down
to the women below, who empty the contents into the tub. Jokes and
joyous songs relieve the vintagers’ labours, while the farmer looks on
in silence, watching the progress and calculating the produce of the
_ricolt_. When the tub is full, the ox drags the cart reeling with
grapes to the vats, the fruit is thrown in, and then being pressed under
the feet of a man, the liquor descends into a lower vat, where it
undergoes fermentation. These vats are square, built of brick or
masonry, and uncovered. When the weather is dry the must is left to
ferment five days,--if it should rain, one or two days more. The husks
or dregs are then put into a press with water, and a sort of small wine
is made, which is the common drink of the labourers. Another sort of
wine is made by drawing some of the must or new wine out of the vat
after four-and-twenty hours, and pouring it into canvass bags, which are
suspended over another vat, into which the liquor distils. The wine thus
made is called _lambiccato_; it is sweet and pale, does not keep, and,
though not wholesome, it is agreeable to the taste of the people. They
repeat the process several times in order to clear it and prevent any
further fermentation. They use this wine to mix with the old wine, which
has turned sour or musty. Some wines are also made by boiling a certain
quantity of the must, and then mixing it with the rest: these wines keep
longer. The vine bears fruit two years after it has been planted, and
then continues to produce for sixty years or more.

In the other parts of the kingdom of Naples the condition of the rural
population varies according to the climate, localities, and nature of
the soil. In the mountains of Abruzzo the inhabitants are chiefly
shepherds, who migrate every year with their flocks to the plains of
Puglia. Their families accompany them, and assist them in making various
kinds of cheese from sheep, cow, and buffalo milk, for which they are
renowned. These mountaineers are an honest, frugal, industrious race:
the men dress in sheepskins, and numbers of them are to be seen at
Christmas time about the streets of Naples, playing their bagpipes in
honour of the festivity.

The inhabitants of the large province of Calabria are another peculiar
race. Brave, hardy, and proud, they work but little and live frugally.
Although provisions are cheap, wages are too low to allow the labourers
to buy animal food, cheese, or butter: a Calabrian peasant will make his
dinner of a handful of lupines, a few chestnuts, and two ounces of
bread. When he can afford to drink the common wine, he pays for it from
one penny to two-pence a quart. The inhabitants near the coast live
somewhat better. The Calabrian, however, disdains to beg; he will sooner
rob on the high road.

The Sicilian peasantry, especially in the interior of the island, are
still worse than the Calabrian. The towns and villages swarm with
beggars, and the misery and consequent corruption of the poorer classes
are almost incredible. While the coasts of the island abound with
populous and luxurious towns, one half of whose inhabitants, however,
are in a state of beggary or nearly so, the fertile valleys of the
interior are left in great measure unproductive, the few farmers
thinking only of getting what is absolutely necessary for their
subsistence, and not of multiplying the produce of their lands, for
which they have no market. The total want of roads or means of
communication, the absence of capital, the indolence of the great
proprietors, the injudicious trammels on exportation, and several other
causes, contribute to the total prostration of Sicilian agriculture.

The land-tax in the kingdom of Naples is extremely heavy, amounting to
about one-third of the estimated rent of the estates, whether cultivated
or not.


                         ---------------------


                            COMETS.--No. 2.

Well then--we give up the question as to the danger of our earth
jostling this comet of Biela, at least for the next century; but every
one will admit that comets have a great influence on the temperature,
and often cause dreadful epidemics. Thus say those who love to prophesy
of evil; but we hope the present change of weather (October 5,) when the
comet is many thousand miles nearer than he was during the warm weather
of a few weeks back, will make people doubt a little before they
attribute warm summers and autumns and good vintages, or bad summers and
bad vintages (for comets are messengers both of good and evil,) to these
much-abused and ill-understood wanderers.

We proceed to give a few more remarks, the substance of which may be
found in Littrow:--

It is said that comets raise the temperature at the earth’s surface. In
reply to this assertion, we give a list of those years from 1632 to
1785, which were remarkable for the unusual temperature either of their
winter or their summer, and were likewise distinguished by the
appearance of comets.

       Comet years.  Temperature.    | Comet years.  Temperature.
         1632†      Hot summer.      |   1718      Severe winter.
         1665       Severe winter.   |   1723†     Hot summer.
         1680       Ditto.           |   1729      Severe winter.
         1682†      Warm winter.     |   1737      Hot summer.
         1683       Cold summer.     |   1744      Severe winter.
         1683       Severe winter.   |   1748†     Hot summer.
         1684       Cold summer.     |   1764†     Warm winter.
         1689       Warm winter.     |   1766      Severe winter.
         1695       Cold summer.     |   1769†     Warm winter.
         1699       Severe winter.   |   1771      Severe winter.
         1701†      Hot summer.      |   1774†     Hot summer.
         1702       Ditto.           |   1781†     Ditto.
         1702       Warm winter.     |   1783†     Warm winter.
         1706       Severe winter.   |   1784      Severe winter.
         1718†      Hot summer.      |   1785      Ditto.

Here in one hundred and fifty-three years we have fifteen marked (†), in
which the comet may be supposed to have produced a greater degree of
warmth; while it happens that there are just as many in which it may be
said to have increased the cold. What, then, is the conclusion? Why,
that the comet brings neither heat nor cold, at least none that we can
discover. But there is another way of showing that comets do _not_ bring
warmth, and that if they cause any change at all in the temperature
(which we do not affirm) we have as much right to say they bring cold.

From the register of the temperature kept at the Vienna Observatory,
from the year 1800 to 1828 inclusive, it appears that in seven years,
the average temperature of which exceeded the general average
temperature at Vienna, there were ten comets; in five years, which fell
below the average temperature, there were eight comets; and in six
years, some of which were a little above and others a little below the
average temperature, there were twelve comets. Or this result may be
expressed in the following way:--

                                                     Comets.
           For every 10 hot years                      14
               „     10 cold ditto                     16
               „     10, neither hot nor cold, ditto   20

But, after all, it may be said that though comets produce no change in
the temperature that we can estimate, they _may_ cause diseases and
other calamities by acting in some way to us invisible and unknown.
Forster, in his ‘Illustrations of the atmospherical origin of Epidemic
Diseases,’ asserts that since the Christian era the most unhealthy
years, and those most fruitful in all kinds of human calamities, have
been marked by the appearance of great comets, and that on the contrary
no great comet has ever appeared in a healthy year.

If any of our readers feel disposed to believe so bold an assertion, we
beg they will read Littrow’s chapter on this subject, or get some good
friend to read it to them, and we venture to say they will be for ever
cured of all propensity to believe in the marvellous, unless the proofs
are rather stronger than those which Forster produces. Littrow denies
altogether the accuracy of Forster’s tables of the _concurrence_ of
diseases, &c. and comets; but, independent of this, why should a comet
cause a particular disease in one part of the globe and not in another?
or why, when the comet of 1668 appeared, should there be “a great
mortality among the cats” in Westphalia only? and how did it happen that
the Dutch and Flemish cats escaped? But to set the matter at rest,
Littrow takes Forster’s table of diseases just as it is given, and
compares it with Olber’s ‘Catalogue of all the known tracks of Comets,’
and to this he adds the catalogue of comets which Riccioli has collected
out of the older writers. This comparison gives the following among many
other results:--“A. D. 717. There was a three years’ plague in the East,
and 300,000 men died at Constantinople alone.” But unfortunately there
was no comet in this year, nor in any years nearer to this date than 684
and 729. As there was no comet in 717, we ought, according to Mr.
Forster’s reasoning, not to believe that 300,000 men died at
Constantinople; which, for our part, we are as little inclined to give
credit to as to many other marvellous facts of the same kind which the
chronicles register.

To take an example in favour of Mr. Forster;--“A.D. 1200. Plague in
Egypt, in which about 10,000,000 of men died.” The Arabic writer, Ali
ben Rodoan, mentions a comet in this year, the body of which was said to
be three times as large as Venus; we can believe all this but not “the
10,000,000 men.”

We will add another instance, not in favour of Mr. Forster.

“1624. Destructive epidemic for five years through nearly all Europe. In
London 35,000 men died; in Venice 90,000, and Italy lost the fourth part
of its inhabitants,” &c. This _may_ be true, but we believe not that
Italy lost the fourth part of its population; nor, if this calamitous
event did take place, do we believe there were then or are now any means
of ascertaining the loss with such accuracy. But how stand the comets
for this year? Alas! for theories without facts. Between 1618 and 1652
no comets are recorded.

We have spoken of the false fears which the presence of comets sometimes
engender, in a tone which some persons may call by the name of levity.
We have done so, because we believe that such fears, tending to make
people unhappy, are best got rid of by a little good-natured ridicule.
One of the best foundations of happiness is a confidence that the laws
by which the universe is governed, however mysterious and inexplicable,
are intended to sustain and preserve that wondrous mechanism which we so
imperfectly understand, but which we know must proceed from the most
perfect goodness as well as wisdom and power.

The errors which we have noticed regarding comets have in some cases
been the errors of men whose judgments have been led astray by false
assumptions. But there have not been wanting self-constituted
interpreters of the designs of Providence, who have misled the ignorant
by pronouncing comets to be the forerunners, sometimes of pestilence, at
others of war, and at others of political or local occurrences, such as
the Fire of London. Such predictions, like those connected with eclipses
of the sun and moon, cannot be too strongly stigmatized, as proceeding
either from the most presumptuous ignorance, or the most wicked
imposture. It is quite enough for men to aim at an approximation to a
knowledge of the system of the world, without taking upon themselves to
assign supposed causes for the existence of this or that phenomenon--and
those causes often the most frivolous and absurd. True knowledge leads
not to presumption but to humility: and it would be well for those who
take upon themselves to expound, with reference to passing events, the
eternal ways of Providence, as if they were gods, knowing good and evil,
to take example from the modesty of such immortal philosophers as Newton
and Bacon; and, whilst confessing that the little that is known to men
only serves to show the more clearly how much is unknown, to humble
themselves before that great _First Cause_ who made “the sun to rule the
day, the moon and the stars to govern the night,--for his mercy endureth
for ever!”


                         ---------------------


                         THE TEMPLES OF PÆSTUM.

                 [Illustration: The Temple of Neptune.]

These sublime relics of antiquity stand on the edge of a vast and
desolate plain, that extends from the neighbourhood of the city of
Salerno to the mountains of the Cilento, or nearly to the confines of
Calabria. The approach to them across this wild is exceedingly
impressive. For miles and miles scarcely a human habitation is seen, or
any living creature, save herds of savage-looking buffaloes, that range
the lords of the waste. And when you are within the lines of the ancient
walls of the town--of the once opulent and magnificent Pæstum--only a
miserable little taverna, or house of entertainment, a barn, and a mean
modern edifice belonging to the nominal bishop of the place, and nearly
always uninhabited, meet your eye. But there the three ancient edifices
rise before you in the most imposing and sublime manner--they can hardly
be called ruins, they have still such a character of firmness and
entireness. Their columns seem to be rooted in the earth, or to have
grown from it! The first impression produced on the traveller, when he
arrives at the spot, has often been described. Even the critical and
sceptical Forsyth exclaims, “On entering the walls of Pæstum I felt all
the religion of the place--I trod as on sacred ground--I stood amazed at
the long obscurity of its mighty ruins!”

These edifices have been called, rather by caprice or conjecture than
from any good grounds for such names, the Temple of Ceres, the Temple of
Neptune, and the Basilica. That of Ceres, which is the smallest of the
three, first presents itself to the traveller from Naples. It has six
columns in front, and thirteen in length; the columns are thick in
proportion to their elevation, and much closer to each other than they
are generally found to be in Greek Temples, “which,” says Mr. Forsyth,
“crowds them advantageously on the eye, enlarges our idea of the space,
and gives a grand, an heroic air to a monument of very moderate
dimension.”

The second, or the Temple of Neptune, is not the largest, but by far the
most massy and imposing of the three: it has six columns in front and
fourteen in length, the angular column to the west, with its capital,
has been struck and partially shivered by lightning. It once threatened
to fall and ruin the symmetry of one of the most perfect monuments now
in existence, but it has been secured by iron cramps. An inner peristyle
of much smaller columns rises in the cella, in two stories, with only an
architrave, which has neither frieze nor cornice between the columns,
which thus almost seem standing the one on the capital of the other--a
defect in architecture, which is, however, justified by Vitruvius and
the example of the Parthenon. The light pillars of this interior
peristyle, of which some have fallen, rise a few feet above the exterior
cornice and the massy columns of the temple. Whether you gaze at this
wonderful edifice from without or from within, as you stand on the floor
of the cella, which is much encumbered with heaps of fallen stones and
rubbish, the effect is awfully grand. The utter solitude, and the
silence, never broken save by the flight and screams of the crows and
birds of prey which your approach may scare from the cornices and
architraves, where they roost in great numbers, adds to the solemn
impression produced by those firmset and eternal looking columns.

The third structure, generally called a basilica, but sometimes an
atrium, a curia, a market-place, or an exchange, is the most extensive,
and, in point of architecture, the most curious, It has nine columns in
front, and eighteen in length, and a row of pillars in the middle,
parallel to the sides, which divide the temple, or whatever it may have
been, into two equal parts. The diameter of these columns is somewhat
larger than that of the columns of the first temple, but much smaller
than the diameter of those of the second temple.

All the three structures are in the peculiar style called the Doric.
They are all raised upon substructions forming three gradations or high
steps--the columns without bases repose on the uppermost of these steps:
the columns are not quite five diameters in height, they taper off about
one-fourth as they ascend, they are fluted like all ancient Greek
columns, their capitals are flat and prominent, and their
intercolumniation, or the space from one to the other, little exceeds
one diameter. The material of which they are built is the same
throughout each of the temples and common to them all. It is an
exceedingly hard, but porous and brittle stone, of a sober brownish-grey
colour. It is a curious fact, that not only the ignorant people on the
spot, but Neapolitan antiquaries (who, however, rarely travel to see
things with their own eyes) wonder whence the ancients brought these
masses of curious stone. They found them on the spot. “The stone of
these edifices,” says Mr. Forsyth, “was probably formed at Pæstum
itself, by the brackish water of the Salso acting on vegetable earth,
roots, and plants; for you can distinguish their petrified tubes in
every column.” And Mr. Mac Farlane, who passed a considerable time on
the spot, adds, “The brackish water of the river Salso that runs by the
wall of the town, and in different branches across the plain, has so
strong a petrifying virtue that you can almost follow the operation with
the eye; the waters of the neighbouring Sele (a considerable river--the
ancient Silarus) have in all ages been remarkable for the same quality:
in many places where the soil had been removed, we perceived strata of
stone similar to the stones which compose the temples, and I could
almost venture to say that the substratum of all the plain, from the
Sele to Acropoli, is of the like substance. Curious petrifactions of
leaves, pieces of wood, insects, and other vegetable and animal matters,
are observed in the materials of the columns, walls,” &c.

These temples are the only ancient remains of any importance to be found
at Pæstum, except the Cyclopean walls of the city, which are pretty well
preserved on three sides, and only entirely obliterated on the side
towards the sea. On the eastern side, indeed, they have suffered little,
and fragments of towers, which seem to have flanked the walls at regular
distances, yet exist. There is a gate in this part called _La Porta
della Sirena_, or the Syren’s Gate (from a small rudely sculptured
figure that looks like a dolphin, over the arch) which is very perfect,
but mean and small; and here the ancient aqueduct is traced for some
distance.

The origin of the city may safely be referred to remote antiquity; but
those are probably in the right who would fix the period at which the
existing temples were erected as contemporary with, or a little
posterior to the building of the Parthenon at Athens. But even this
calculation leaves them the venerable age of twenty-two centuries; and
so firm and strong are they still, that, except in the case of a
tremendous earthquake or some other extraordinary convulsion of nature,
two thousand two hundred and many more years may pass over their mighty
columns and architraves, and they remain, as they now are, the objects
of the world’s admiration.

           [Illustration: Interior of the Temple of Neptune.]


                         ---------------------


                DIFFERENCE BETWEEN GAMBLING AND TRADING.

It has been remarked that all games or sports are imitations either of
_war_ or _commerce_. The imitations of war are sufficiently obvious;
some, such as the combats of the gladiators in ancient Rome, were
exhibitions of actual fighting; others, such as the bull-fights of
Spain, the elephant and tiger-fights of India, the cock-fights,
dog-fights, badger-baits, &c. of England and other countries, are
exhibitions of the combats of animals. In these cruel sports, the men or
animals are made to fight for the amusement of the lookers-on, who
sympathize in the exertions of skill, power, and courage which they
behold. More frequently, however, the pleasure is derived from being,
not a spectator, but an actor in the contest; as in all field-sports,
such as hunting, shooting, and fishing; or in bloodless games, such as
cricket, football, prisoners-base, chess, draughts, &c.; in which the
gratification arises from a sense of the skill exercised, from the love
of emulation, and the feeling of superiority. The games which appear to
be imitations of mercantile dealings are, without exception, _games of
chance_ or _gambling games_, such as games with dice and cards,
lotteries, raffles, &c. In games of this kind there is usually a stake
to be played for, which is like the sum that a trader hopes to gain by
an adventure or speculation; and either chance alone, or a mixture of
chance and skill, determines the winner. In some games of cards the
resemblance is still further increased by the players _exchanging_ some
of their cards, as in the well-known game of _commerce_.

But in noting the _resemblance_ between trade and games of chance, it is
also important to note their _difference_. At games of chance there is a
certain stake made up by the contributions of the players; and when the
game is over, whatever is gained by one player is lost by another. There
can be no gain without a corresponding loss. In trade, however, this is
far otherwise. _Every voluntary exchange must necessarily be for the
benefit of both parties._ It would be an absurdity to suppose that both
parties to an exchange are not gainers. No man exchanges merely for the
sake of _changing_: for example, no man gives a shilling in order to get
a shilling, or gives a copy of a book in order to get an identical copy
of the same book. Still less does any one exchange in order to give away
something which is more valuable to him than that which he gets in
return. No man gives a horse worth £30 for a bushel of corn worth 10_s._
No man gives a cargo of cotton goods worth £500 for a pipe of wine worth
£50.

Some of our readers may perhaps be inclined to exclaim that they need
not to be informed of a maxim which is never formally stated, only
because it is universally admitted; and may think that in telling them
that neither party loses by an exchange, we adhere strictly to our
character of not admitting _news_ into our magazine. Nevertheless this
axiom, however evident and undeniable, is impliedly rejected by many of
those persons who consider free trade as injurious to the wealth of a
country. For in whatever manner merchants are permitted to trade it is
quite certain that they will never give more than they get--in other
words, never voluntarily make a losing bargain. Sometimes indeed it
happens that goods are voluntarily sold _at a loss_, but it is evident
that no merchant will long continue to make exchanges by which he is a
loser. Those persons, therefore, who maintain that if we trade freely
with a foreign country our merchants will lose, unless that country
trades freely with us, maintain that one of the parties to a voluntary
exchange may be a loser. For as no considerable trade can be carried on
by means of the precious metals by a country in which they are not
produced, it is obvious that if we import a large quantity of goods from
a foreign country, we must either give in exchange goods of less value
to us than those which we part with, or that if they will not take our
goods and do not want bullion, they must give us their goods for
nothing. The latter supposition is, we fear, too favourable to ourselves
to be very probable, or, as is commonly said, it is _too good to be
true_; but at any rate it is as likely that foreigners will give us
_their_ goods for nothing, as that we will give foreigners _our_ goods
for nothing; which would be the case if it were true that a free trade,
or any other trade, is a losing trade.


                         ---------------------


                        SATURDAY NIGHT’S WAGES.

The system frequently pursued in manufacturing towns in paying the wages
of mechanics, is not, perhaps, calculated to give to these all the
advantages which they should derive from their hard earnings.

It is the custom in many factories to pay the wages of the week at a
neighbouring public-house on the Saturday evening, after the labours of
the day are over. This duty, in a large establishment, is a work which
necessarily occupies some time; and the most sober and well-disposed,
those most anxious to take their earnings home to their families, cannot
obtain their money in time for procuring the Sunday’s meal before the
usual hour of rest. After a hard day’s labour, spent in domestic cares,
and in rendering the dwelling in a fit state for the coming day, the
weary housewife would gladly seek repose. Under this arrangement,
however, she is obliged to encroach on the period which should be
devoted to sleep, in order to make her requisite purchases, or to invade
the quiet of the Sabbath morning with the petty cares of life, which,
for that one day at least, should be laid aside.

This in itself is a great annoyance to the female part of the community;
but it is light as air to them, compared with the more serious evil
which the system carries in its train, and which they would gladly
exchange for any personal inconvenience they might be called upon to
endure.

Workmen of the most abstemious habits consider themselves in a manner
constrained to take some refreshment in the house where they have just
received money; and though they may spend but a trifle, that trifle
would have been better bestowed in assisting to minister to the wants of
those nearest and dearest to them. But what a temptation is held out to
men of a less temperate character. Here the love of noisy fellowship is
nourished, unfitting the mind for the quiet enjoyments of home. Here the
habit of intoxication is gradually acquired and confirmed. While wives
are anxiously waiting at the door of the house for those supplies which
will enable them to furnish necessaries for their families, husbands are
too often rioting within, forgetful of those ties which should prevent
such a waste of time and money in selfish and degrading enjoyment; and
when, at length, the expecting female does obtain the residue of the
earnings which should have been appropriated to the support of her
family for the ensuing week, she finds the sum fearfully diminished and
inadequate for the purpose.

Many a watchful mother has had to mourn over the ruined prospects of a
beloved son, whose first deviation from right was the loitering at the
public-house on the Saturday night; his former simple habits gradually
turned into those of selfishness, and all its lamentable consequences.
Many an affectionate wife has had to grieve at this wreck of her early
happiness, first invaded by the Saturday night’s temptation; while she
is either left to struggle neglected and alone through the miseries of
life, or called upon to endure more active ill treatment from her
inebriated partner.

It may be said, we are rather exaggerating the picture; that a large
proportion of those who gain their livelihood by working as mechanics
are respectable, intelligent, and virtuous members of society. Most
happily this is true; but we think a still farther number might be
ranked in the same class, if the payment of wages were better regulated,
while the comfort of the artisans, and that of their families, would at
the same time be materially increased.

There can be little doubt that, were proprietors once convinced of the
bad effects which arise from this plan, they would adopt one more
conducive to the comfort of those by whose labour they are benefited. A
walk in a manufacturing town at twelve o’clock on the Saturday night,
would sufficiently expose the evils of this manner of payment. The shops
are then still open, and harassed females are seen flocking to them; the
streets are crowded with people; and many women, with looks of distress,
are still lingering at the doors of the pay-houses, in the vain hope of
alluring home their truant husbands. The whole continues a scene of
noise, bustle, and confusion, long past the hour of midnight, and but
ill-befitted to usher in the day of rest. How unlike the holy soothing
repose of the cotter’s Saturday eve, so beautifully described by Burns.

If payment of the week’s earnings were made on the respective premises
instead of at a drinking-house, and on the Friday instead of the
Saturday evening, all these evils might at once be avoided.

The men would have no temptation given them to spend their earnings away
from their families--the women would be enabled to make their purchases
on the Saturday, at the time most convenient for the purpose, and they
would have one chance less for unhappiness.

Two objections are made to this proposed alteration--the one moral, the
other practical.

It is said that, with a well furnished pocket, a man not very
industrious may be inclined to indulge himself in idleness during the
ensuing day; but this would evince so total an absence of foresight and
prudence, that the individual capable of such conduct would, we fear,
when paid on the Saturday, in like manner take his holiday on the
Monday, or just as long as his money might last.

The other objection arises from the mode in which the wages are usually
paid at a large establishment. The required amount of money is in the
first instance deposited in the hands of the confidential foreman, who
does not pay each individual workman, but divides the whole in classes,
and to a responsible man in each of these intrusts the sum due to his
particular class: should the individuals of which this is composed be
very numerous, he in his turn subdivides, till at length the various
claimants receive their due. The transaction is not, therefore, simply
that of a proprietor paying his men, but it involves itself into a much
more complicated form, and the men must necessarily have a common place
of rendezvous to adjust their various accounts. That this difficulty may
be obviated, and that it is in fact nearly as easy to pay on the
premises as to adjourn to another house, we happen to be furnished with
a practical proof. The proprietor of a large concern, not residing on
the spot where it is carried on, had recently occasion to proceed to
that place in order to examine more particularly how the works were
conducted. He immediately perceived the bad effects arising from the
system of paying the workmen at a drinking-house, and determined at once
to abolish the practice. This intention was strongly combated by the
superintendent, who assured him that it was an impossibility to pay all
the men at the works, for if the few to whom he delivered the money for
their respective divisions were to receive it on the premises, they
would of their own accord repair to the usual pay-house with those to
whom the money was due, in order to make a settlement among themselves.

The gentleman persevered, however, in his intention; and on the day of
payment, he himself, without any assistance, paid into the hands of each
workman before he left the premises, the wages due to him. He thus
proved the practicability of the alteration, and acquired the right of
insisting that henceforth the plan should always be pursued. By a little
method, and by the aid of a few assistants, this work would of course be
comparatively easy to one understanding its practical details; if in the
absence of these advantages it was accomplished without any difficulty,
in the manner we have described, by one quite new to the business, in an
establishment where numerous work-people are employed, it follows that
this objection is of no weight.


                         ---------------------


_Struggle between an Eagle and a Salmon._--“That the eagle is extremely
destructive to fish, and particularly so to salmon, many circumstances
would prove. Eagles are constantly discovered watching the fords in the
spawning season, and are seen to seize and carry off the fish. Some
years since a herdsman, on a very sultry day in July, while looking for
a missing sheep, observed an eagle posted on a bank that overhung a
pool. Presently the bird stooped and seized a salmon, and a violent
struggle ensued: when the herdsman reached the spot, he found the eagle
pulled under water by the strength of the fish, and the calmness of the
day, joined to drenched plumage, rendered him unable to extricate
himself. With a stone the peasant broke the eagle’s pinion, and actually
secured the spoiler and his victim, for he found the salmon dying in his
grasp. When shooting on Lord Sligo’s mountains, near the Killeries, I
heard many particulars of the eagle’s habits and history from a
grey-haired peasant who had passed a long life in these wilds. The
scarcity of hares, which here were once abundant, he attributed to the
rapacity of those birds; and he affirmed, that when in pursuit of these
animals, the eagles evinced a degree of intelligence that appeared
extraordinary. They coursed the hares, he said, with great judgment and
certain success; one bird was the active follower, while the other
remained in reserve, at the distance of forty or fifty yards. If the
hare, by a sudden turn, freed himself from his most pressing enemy, the
second bird instantly took up the chase, and thus prevented the victim
from having a moment’s respite. He had remarked the eagles also while
they were engaged in fishing. They chose a small ford upon the rivulet
which connects Glencullen with Glandullah, and, posted on either side,
waited patiently for the salmon to pass over. Their watch was never
fruitless,--and many a salmon, in its transit from the sea to the lake,
was transferred from its native element to the wild aërie in the Alpine
cliff that beetles over the romantic waters of Glencullen.”

[These anecdotes are extracted from a work just published, containing
spirited details of a sportsman’s life in Ireland, and numerous sketches
of natural history. It is entitled, ‘_Wild Sports of the West._’]


                         ---------------------


                               THE WEEK.

October 28.--This is commonly regarded as the birthday of the great
Erasmus, and in one place is mentioned as such by himself, although in
another he says he was born on the 27th. The year of his birth is still
more uncertain; some authorities placing the event in 1465, but the
commonly received date, and that inscribed on his monument at Rotterdam,
being 1467. It was in this city he first saw the light. His mother’s
name was Margaret, the daughter of a physician. He was, as he tells us
himself, a natural son. The relations of his father, Gerard, had opposed
his marriage with Margaret, and having prevailed upon him sometime after
the birth of Erasmus to make a journey to Rome, there persuaded him that
she was dead, and by that representation induced him to enter a
monastery. He is described to have been a person well instructed in the
learning of that age. Erasmus took his father’s name only, according to
what was then the fashion among scholars, turning it into Greek,
Erasmus, or, as it should rather have been Erasmius, signifying
_Amiable_ in that language, as Gerard does in Dutch. To this he prefixed
the other Latin name Desiderius, (in French Didier,) which has been
regarded as having the same signification. His mother was his first
teacher, and at nine years of age he was sent to a grammar school at
Deventer. Here he greatly distinguished himself among his schoolfellows.
Before he had reached his fourteenth year, however, he had lost both his
father and mother; and the guardians in whose charge he had been left
forced him by threats to enter a monastery, and then possessed
themselves of his property. This base treatment was to Erasmus the
source of half a lifetime of difficulties and misfortunes. Hating the
profession which he had been compelled to adopt, and keenly feeling the
injustice of which he had been the victim, he eagerly sought the means
of escape from his present situation. At last he prevailed upon his
superiors to allow him to go to study at the College of Montaigu in
Paris. In this city he supported himself for some years by his exertions
as a teacher,--an occupation which he never liked, but in which it was
his fate to be engaged for a considerable part of his life. His
lectures, however, gradually spread his reputation; and in 1497 he was
induced by some of his pupils from England to visit this country. Here
he was warmly welcomed by many of the most distinguished scholars of the
time: he formed in particular an intimate acquaintance with the
afterwards-celebrated Sir Thomas More; and Warham, Archbishop of
Canterbury, evinced the strongest disposition to patronise him. He soon
after, however, returned to Paris; and then he made a tour through the
principal cities of Italy, visiting in succession Bologna, Venice,
Padua, and Rome. Wherever he appeared he was received as one of the
greatest ornaments of the age. But Erasmus had made up his mind to
return to England; and here, accordingly, he once more made his
appearance in 1506. The great scholar seems, from the time of his first
visit to this country, to have felt a strong attachment to its society
and manners, and had his talents been more liberally remunerated would
probably have made it his permanent abode. Indeed he speaks in one of
his writings of Holland and England as entitled to an equal place in his
affection,--the one as the land of his birth, the other as that of his
adoption. When he came to England, he threw off, he tells us, his
monastic habit, which he had worn till then, finding such a garb was not
fashionable in this country. How long Erasmus remained in England at
this time it is impossible exactly to ascertain; but after having
returned to the continent we find him here again in 1510. The wandering
life which the great scholar appears to have led presents us with a
curious picture of the manners of the time; and the fate of Erasmus, in
his incessant migrations from one part of Europe to another, was only
that of many of his brethren. It was a sort of existence, however, it is
right to remark, which had its pleasures and advantages as well as its
inconveniences; and at an age when the general intercourse of nations
was so irregular and imperfect, travelling was almost the only way by
which inquisitive minds could learn anything of foreign countries. At
the same time the main object for which such peregrinations were
undertaken seems to have generally been to seek for patronage. In
England, Erasmus had nothing to depend upon except the liberality of his
wealthy friends and admirers. Of these the most powerful, and also the
most munificent, was Archbishop Warham, who, in 1511, gave him the
living of Aldington in Kent, and also procured him the appointment of
teacher of Greek at Cambridge. Notwithstanding these benefactions,
however, we find him still engaged in a continual warfare with poverty.
He seems, indeed, to have depended for his subsistence almost entirely
upon the occasional bounty of his friends; and it is painful to peruse
his frequent and earnest solicitations for assistance from one or other
of them. Sometimes he petitions even for a few crowns, or notices his
receipt of that small sum. Perhaps there is a good deal of truth in Dr.
Jortin’s conjecture, that he was but an indifferent manager, and had his
own imprudence to thank for much of what he suffered. One circumstance,
amusingly illustrative both of his propensity to move about from one
place to another and of his inability to take care of himself or of his
property, is his continual supplication to one friend or another to give
him a horse. No sooner does he get one than he loses it, and some other
charitable acquaintance is called upon to take pity upon him and supply
him with another. Erasmus seems to have resided with More during part of
the time he was in England, but not, as has been sometimes affirmed, in
the house which More built for himself at Chelsea, which was only
erected in 1521, whereas Erasmus certainly left this country, to which
he never returned, in 1518. After that he resided principally at Basil,
where, in the society of many friends whom he loved, and whose pursuits
were similar to his own, he employed himself with an industry that has
never been surpassed, in the preparation of a succession of works, which
on the whole may be considered as having placed him, both as a scholar
and as a man of genius, above all his contemporaries. In his latter
years the court of Rome more than once expressed an anxiety to bestow
upon him a Cardinal’s hat, and arrangements would even have been made to
secure him the income necessary for the maintenance of that dignity; but
the old man, satisfied with his fame as a scholar, and with the
competence which the success of his writings had at last procured him,
declined the proffered honour. He died at Basil on the 12th of July,
1536, and was interred with great pomp in that city. His native town of
Rotterdam, however, although it neither received his remains, nor had
been much honoured by his presence while he lived, was so proud of
having given birth to so illustrious a writer, that his statue in bronze
was placed by the authorities in a conspicuous situation in one of their
public places, where it still remains. It is renown enough for
Rotterdam, many have thought, to have produced Erasmus. Perhaps no other
modern has written the Latin language with the grace and elegance of
this accomplished scholar, or shown so familiar a mastery over all its
resources. But his works are distinguished by many other admirable
qualities besides the beauties of their style; by the most playful and
engaging wit, the most natural touches of humour, great powers of
graphic description, and, above all, a pervading spirit of good sense
and philosophic moderation, which doubles the charm of every other
excellence. Those of Erasmus’s writings which are best known, are his
Eulogy on Folly, a production of light satire; his Adages, and
especially his celebrated Colloquies, of the second edition of which,
published at Paris in 1527, it is a remarkable but well authenticated
fact, that there were sold no fewer than 24,000 copies.

              [Illustration: Portrait of Erasmus reading.]

------------------------------------------------------------------------




 ⁂ The Office of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge is at
                        59, Lincoln’s Inn Fields.

                LONDON: CHARLES KNIGHT, PALL-MALL EAST.

  _Shopkeepers and Hawkers may be supplied Wholesale by the following
 Booksellers, of whom, also, any of the previous Numbers may be had:--_

 _London_, GROOMBRIDGE, Panyer Alley.
 _Bath_, SIMMS.
 _Birmingham_, DRAKE.
 _Bristol_, WESTLEY and Co.
 _Carlisle_, THURNAM; and SCOTT.
 _Derby_, WILKINS and SON.
 _Doncaster_, BROOKE and CO.
 _Exeter_, BALLE.
 _Falmouth_, PHILIP.
 _Hull_, STEPHENSON.
 _Kendal_, HUDSON and NICHOLSON.
 _Leeds_, BAINES and NEWSOME.
 _Lincoln_, BROOKE and SONS.
 _Liverpool_, WILLMER and SMITH.
 _Manchester_, ROBINSON; and WEBB and SIMMS.
 _Newcastle-upon-Tyne_, CHARNLEY.
 _Norwich_, JARROLD and SON.
 _Nottingham_, WRIGHT.
 _Oxford_, SLATTER.
 _Plymouth_, NETTLETON.
 _Portsea_, HORSEY, Jun.
 _Sheffield_, RIDGE.
 _Staffordshire, Lane End_, C. WATTS.
 _Worcester_, DEIGHTON.
 _Dublin_, WAKEMAN.
 _Edinburgh_, OLIVER and BOYD.
 _Glasgow_, ATKINSON and CO.

            Printed by WILLIAM CLOWES, Duke Street, Lambeth.

------------------------------------------------------------------------




                          Transcriber’s Notes


This file uses _underscores_ to indicate italic text. New original cover
art included with this eBook is granted to the public domain. Itemized
changes from the original text:

 • p. 291: Added comma after phrase “in a state of beggary or nearly
   so.”
 • p. 293: Replaced comma with period after phrase “from the love of
   emulation, and the feeling of superiority.”
 • p. 295: Added closing double quotation mark after phrase “over the
   romantic waters of Glencullen.”
 • p. 295: Added closing square bracket after phrase “Wild Sports of the
   West.”

*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77269 ***