Chapter II: Part 2

But amid these captivating _salons_ and congenial occupations, what had become of the apostle of popular music? He was not asleep; only digesting and preparing a system which should, by its simplicity and clearness, bring scientific music within the reach of the humblest as well as the highest classes of society. At last it was matured, and the working-classes were invited to come and test it--gratuitously of course. A few accepted the invitation; but their success and delight in the new art thus opened up to them, was so great, that the 'two or three' pioneers soon swelled into an army of 3000 _ouvriers_! But a band of 3000 workmen in Paris was considered dangerous: it could not be credited that they met merely for social improvement and relaxation; some political design must surely lurk under it: government was alarmed, the police threatened; and it was left to Mainzer's choice either to remain in Paris without his artisan classes, or to seek elsewhere a field for his popular labours. He decided at once on the latter alternative, and departed for England, amidst the heartfelt regrets of those whom he had attached so strongly to himself, while he inculcated peace, order, and every social virtue. On his revisiting Paris long after, his old pupils serenaded him unmolested; and in 1849, the Institute of France voluntarily placed his name on their list for the membership vacant by the death of Donizetti; yet he would not accept the proposal of a later French government to return and establish his system: he preferred the freedom of action which he enjoyed in Britain.

In London, a period of arduous labour commenced. Mainzer arrived without patronage, without the _prestige_ that his name had earned abroad, and, what was a greater drawback, without any knowledge of English! But, nothing daunted, with his usual energy he set about the task of acquiring the language, which he did in an incredibly short time--commencing, like a child, by naming all familiar objects, and going on, until, without perplexing himself with rules or their exceptions, he had acquired facility enough to lecture in public. His work on _Music and Education_ shows with what force and purity of style he could afterwards write in English. It was the same principle--that of commencing with practice and letting theory follow--which he carried out in his system of 'Singing for the Million.' He argued, that as children learn to speak before they can read or construct language grammatically, so they ought to be taught vocal music in such a way as to introduce the rules of harmony gradually, and prepare them for the manipulation of an instrument, if it is intended they should learn one; while for the great masses of both children and adults, _the voice_ is the best and only instrument, and one that can be trained, with _very few exceptions_, to take part in choral, if not in solo singing, and at the same time be made a powerful and pleasing agent in moral culture. On this subject, we shall quote Dr Mainzer's own words, when speaking of the compositions introduced into his classes, he says: 'Besides religious compositions, there are others, which refer to the Creator, by calling attention to the beauty and grandeur of his works. Songs, shewing in a few touching lines the wondrous instinct of the sparrow, the ant, the bee, and cultivating a feeling of respect for all nature's children. Besides these, there are songs intended to promote social and domestic virtues--order, cleanliness, humility, contentment, unity, temperance, etc.; thus impressing, not the letter of the law of charity on immature minds, but the spirit of it in the memory, and so identifying them with the very fibres of the heart.'

With such views and principles, Mainzer arrived in England, to propagate his humanising art; and London soon became the centre of a series of lectures and classes, held in the principal towns accessible by railway--such as Brighton, Oxford, Reading, etc. But this divided work was not satisfactory, and the national schools and popular field in London were preoccupied by Hullah, who had some time previously introduced Wilhem's system, under the sanction of government. There was room and to spare, however, for every system, and Mainzer wished every man good-speed who advanced the cause; but as a fresh field for his own exertions, after two years spent in England, he turned his thoughts towards Edinburgh, where he had been invited by requisition, and warmly received in 1842.

On his return to Scotland, he found his cause somewhat damaged in his absence, by the attempt of precentors to teach his system in congregational classes. Unlike the church-organists of England, the Scotch precentors are not educated musicians--a naturally good voice and ear is their only pre-requisite. Dr Mainzer soon repaired this mistake in those congregations which invited his personal superintendence; and in one church (Free St Andrew's) the good effects of his system are still to be heard, in a congregation forming their own choir, and singing in _four parts_.

To restore this country to the standard of musical eminence which we know from old authorities that it held in the sixteenth century, was the object of Dr Mainzer's energetic endeavours. The elements, he believed, were not wanting. In Scotland, the musical capacity of the people he found to be above rather than below the average of other nations: all that was wanting was to convince the people of this by the cultivation of their neglected powers. As a preliminary step, he excited those friendly to the object to found the 'Association for the Revival of Sacred Music in Scotland,' of which he was the director and moving spring; and under its auspices he commenced a course of _gratuitous_ teaching to classes formed of pupils from the parish and district schools of Edinburgh, precentors, teachers, and operatives. The success of these normal classes was so great and so rapid, that at the end of the first year the pupils were able to become teachers in their turn in their own schools or homes; and at the close of the second and third sessions, concerts and rural fetes were held, at which many hundreds of young voices joined in giving true and powerful expression to such works of the great masters as _Judas Maccabaeus_; while for the delight of their parents' firesides, and their own moral improvement, the children carried home with them those simple but touching and expressive melodies, composed by Mainzer for their use. At the same time, Mr Mainzer carried on classes for the upper ranks, especially for young children; gave lectures on the history of music from the earliest times and in all countries; and published a talented work on _Music and Education_, of which very favourable reviews appeared at the time.[1] Mainzer had a peculiar predilection for Scotland: its scenery, its history, its music, all supplied food for his various tastes. With a poetic appreciation of the beauties of nature, he desired no greater pleasure than to wander in perfect freedom among our lochs and hills; and his descriptions of Edinburgh, the Highlands, and Western Islands, which appeared in the _Augsburg Gazette_, have brought some and inspired more with the wish to visit the Switzerland of Britain. The history and music of Scotland threw fresh light upon each other under his researches. He delighted to trace the reciprocal influence of national events and national music, from the time of the Culdee establishments of the sixth century, when 'Iona was the Rome of the north,' down to the _Covenanter's Lament_, and the Jacobite songs of the last century. Since these days, the spirit that invented and handed down popular song has passed away with the national and clannish feuds which gave rise to the gathering song and the lament. The age of peace has been heralded in by the songs of Burns and Lady Nairne, the authoress of _The Land o' the Leal_, who has done much to restore the taste for our beautiful old melodies, by wedding them to pure and appropriate verse.[2]

In such pursuits, Mainzer--by this time dubbed doctor by a German university--passed five years very pleasantly, but, in a worldly point of view, very unprofitably. He had failed on first coming to Edinburgh in obtaining the musical chair, which seemed so appropriate a niche for him; and however reluctant to leave his favourite normal classes and his adopted home, still when he looked to the future, he was compelled to think of leaving Edinburgh--for the German proverb still held true: 'Kunst geht nach brod;' and if man cannot live by bread _alone_, neither can the artist live _without_ bread! At this juncture, the Chevalier Neukomm, of European celebrity as a composer and organist, and a valued friend of Dr Mainzer, came to Edinburgh to inspect his friend's normal classes. He was so much delighted with them, and considered Dr Mainzer so little appreciated by the general public, that he persuaded him to try Manchester as his future field of exertion.

In the autumn of 1848, accordingly, Neukomm introduced Mainzer to the leading men of that city, who received him so cordially, that he at once took his proper position, and entered on a career both useful and profitable, and which continued to be increasingly successful, until at Christmas 1850, he was laid aside by ill-health. Over-exertion had brought on a complication of diseases, to which he was a martyr for ten months, and which terminated fatally on the 10th November 1851. During that long period of intense suffering, his active mind was never clouded nor repining, and at every interval of comparative ease, he read or listened to reading with avidity. During the first months of his illness, he superintended the publication of a new musical work, called _The Orpheon_, two numbers of which appeared; and his last exertion in this way was arranging two songs: _The Sigh_ of Charles Swain, and Longfellow's _Footsteps of Angels_, adapted to Weber's last song. Prophetic requiems both!

A few weeks after his death, the hall which had been built in Edinburgh for the classes of the Association which he founded, was opened by an amateur concert given as a tribute to his memory. He had promised to preside on this occasion; but his place was filled by his aged, but still vigorous friend, the Chevalier Neukomm, who had come to Edinburgh, at the request of the Association, to compose a series of psalms, one of which was sung by the pupils. Music for the Psalms, _adapted to the varying meaning of each verse_, has hitherto been a desideratum in the musical world; now being supplied in Chevalier Neukomm's work, and already subscribed for by no mean judges--the Queen and Prince Albert, the king of Prussia, &c. It was touching, and yet gratifying, to see one of Dr Mainzer's oft-cherished hopes realised for the first time that evening--that of the _musical union_ of accomplished amateurs of private life with the pupils of the normal classes.

Having thus briefly traced Dr Mainzer's life, it now remains to offer a few remarks on his general character. His talents were of a diversified and high order; and those who knew him only as the author of 'Singing for the Million,' were not aware of his general cultivation of mind. In the dead and living languages, he was equally at home: now he would be speculating on the formation of the Greek chorus, and again mastering some dialect of modern Europe, in order to elucidate the history of the people or their music and poetry. His literary articles were sought after by all the leading journals in Germany and Paris; and his volumes of _Sketches of Travel_, and of _The Lower Orders in Paris_, are graphic and entertaining. A year or two ago, a _Notice Bibliographique_ of his works appeared in Paris, which contained a list of above thirty publications. Great diligence, joined to enthusiasm, enabled him to accomplish so much in these various departments of literature. His manners, too, were of that frank, cordial, and agreeable tone which inspires confidence, and prepossessed every one in his favour; so that from all he could obtain the information which he wished, and they could afford. Over his pupils, his influence was immense. He had the rare art of engaging the entire attention of children; and while he maintained strict discipline, he gained their warmest affection: his own earnestness was reflected on the countenances of his pupils.

Those alone who knew him in private life could thoroughly estimate that purity of mind and heart which eminently characterised him, along with a childlike simplicity and unworldliness, which often, indeed, made him the prey of designing persons, but which, joined to his general information and cheerfulness, made his society most attractive. His personal appearance was indicative of a delicate and nervous organisation: slight and fragile in figure, with an intellectual forehead and eye, that spoke of the preponderance of the _spirituelle_ in his idiosyncrasy; one of those minds which are ever working beyond the powers of the body; ever planning new achievements and new labours of love, and which too often, alas! go out at noonday, while half their fond projects are unaccomplished, yet not before they have made a name to live, and left the world their debtors!

FOOTNOTES:

[1] See _Chambers's Journal_, No. 226, New Series.

[2] See _Lays from Strathearn_, 4to.

A NEWCASTLE PAPER IN 1765-6.

There is scarcely anything more entertaining and instructive than a leisurely look over an old newspaper file. A newspaper of any age is an attraction, and the current newspaper something more, for it is now a necessity. But the next place to it in point of interest is perhaps due to the journal half a century, or two-thirds of a century old. It introduces us, if we be youthful, to the habits of our grandsires; and if we be in 'the sere, the yellow leaf,' to the habits of our fathers, more fully than the pleasantest novel or most elaborate essay, and far more intimately than the most correct and complete historical records. It enables us to observe freely the position and avocations of the denizens of the past, and catch hasty, but most suggestive glances at bygone days; it 'shews the very age and body of the time, its form and pressure.' It is a milestone from which we may reckon our progress, and must delight as well as surprise us by the advancement it shews us to have made in social and political life, particularly with regard to those 'triumphs of mind over matter,' for which recent times have been pre-eminently distinguished.

The writer of this article had lately an opportunity of inspecting a file of the _Newcastle Chronicle_ for 1765-6, and the contrast between journals and things in general which that examination forced on the attention, was in some respects sufficiently striking or curious to be, in his opinion, deserving of some permanent record. At present, the journal in question almost, if not entirely, reaches 'the largest size allowed by law;' at that time, it consisted merely of a single demy sheet. Now, the Newcastle people would be amazed beyond measure if they did not receive at breakfast-time, on the morning of publication, the parliamentary, and all other important news of the night; then, the latest London news was four days old. But a better idea of the journal can perhaps be given, by stating what it lacked than what it then contained. It had no leaders, no parliamentary reports, and very little indeed, in any shape, that could be termed political news. In these matters, its conductor had to say, with Canning's knife-grinder: 'Story! God bless you, I have none to tell, sir.' Not that the political world was unfruitful in affairs of moment; it was a time of no small change, interest, and excitement. In the period referred to, the Grenville ministry had endeavoured to burden the American colonies, by means of the stamp-duties, with some of the debt contracted in the late war. Thereupon, immense discontent had arisen at home and abroad; that administration had fallen; and the Rockingham ministry, which was then formed, found full employment (in 1766) in undoing what had been effected in the previous year. How the Grafton ministry was next formed; how the unfortunate design of taxing the colonists was revived; and how that policy ended, readers of English history know full well. John Wilkes, too, had been already persecuted into prominence, although not yet forced up to the height of his popularity with the masses. But, notwithstanding these and other stirring incidents, the _Chronicle_ was, politically speaking, almost a blank. From time to time, it was stated that the royal assent had been given to certain measures; but concerning the preparation and discussion of those measures, nothing was known. A few other political facts of interest, indeed, such as the arrival of Wilkes in London from France; the repeal of the obnoxious Stamp Act; the riots of the Spitalfields weavers on account of the importation of French silks; and an attack upon the Speaker, and many of the members of the Dublin parliament, who were grossly insulted, and kept from going to the House, in consequence of 'a report that parliament designed to impose more taxes,' were also curtly noticed. Political rumours abounded, although positive knowledge of that kind was exceedingly scanty; and the little that could be obtained was eked out by inuendo, rather than by venturing on any direct statement. The familiarity which, according to the proverb, is apt to breed contempt, was not then indulged in with reference to rulers, parliaments, or even agitators. The emperor of Russia was alluded to under the title of 'a great northern potentate;' parliament was spoken of as 'a certain august assembly;' and Wilkes was usually entitled, 'a certain popular gentleman.'

Some of the political rumours are worthy of republication. The subjoined, from the London news of July 29, 1766, serves to shew how long a political change may be mooted before its effect is tried in this country: 'It is said, a bill will be brought into parliament next session, binding elections for members of parliament to be by ballot.'

And, without at all entering into the discussion of political topics, it may perhaps be observed that the following, taken from the _Chronicle_ of August 10, 1765, points out how an evil of the present day has long been felt and acknowledged: 'We hear the electors of a certain borough have been offered 3000 guineas for a seat, though there is but so short a time for the session of the present parliament.'

Great surprise is expressed (1766) that the consumption of coal in London 'hath increased from 400,000 odd to 600,000 chaldrons yearly.' We find that the coal imported into London during the first six months of 1851, amounted to 1,527,527 tons, besides 90,975 tons brought into the metropolis during the same period by railway and canal. 'Carrying coal to Newcastle' proved a successful speculation on September 25, 1765, when, on account of a strike among the pitmen, 'several pokes of coal were brought to this town by one of the common carriers, and sold on the Sandhill for 9d. a poke, by which he cleared 6d. a poke.' About the same time, wheat was selling in Darlington and Richmond for 4s. and 4s. 6d. per bushel, after having been nearly double that price only two or three weeks previously. In the number for June 25, 1766, we have the following quotation from a Doncaster letter:--'Corn sold last market-day from 12s. to 14s. per quarter; meat, from 2-1/2d. to 3d. per pound; fowls, and other kinds of poultry, had no price, being mostly carried home. I wish a scheme was set on foot, to run many such articles to London by land-carriage; there is plenty here.' In the same paper, the prices of grain in London are given: wheat, 36s. to 41s.; barley, 22s. to 25s.; oats, 16s. to 20s.

Recently, the Newcastle papers, led on by the _Chronicle_, have been making strenuous efforts to extend the French coal-trade, but such exertions formed no part of the 'wisdom of our ancestors.' The number for June 15, 1765, informs us that 'some sinister designs for exporting a very considerable quantity of coals to France and elsewhere, have lately been discovered and prevented.' Sturdy Britons had then far too much hatred for 'our natural enemies' to wish to exchange aught but hostilities with them. About the same time, we learn that 'clubs of young gentlemen of fortune' had come to the magnanimous resolve, 'to toast no lady who has so much inconsideration as to lavish her money away in French fopperies, to the detriment of her own country.'

The style of advertising then in vogue occasionally gave the paper a somewhat pictorial appearance. Cockfighting was in great force, and the public announcements relative to this barbarous sport were invariably headed by a portraiture of a couple of game-birds facing each other with a most belligerent aspect; while the numerous advertisements of horses 'stolen or strayed,' were embellished by a representation of the supposed thief, mounted on the missing animal, which was forced into a breakneck pace, while Satan himself, _in propria persona_, was perched on the crupper, in an excited and triumphant attitude. In the local paragraphs, we note several indicating a strong feeling of animosity between the Scotch and English borderers. We observe also that the Newcastle dogs--to this day a very numerous fraternity--were at times quite unmanageable, and caused, either by their ravenous exploits, or their downright madness, no small uneasiness to the town and neighbourhood. It must be confessed, that in its marriage-notices, at least, the _Chronicle_ was far superior to anything that journalism can now exhibit in Newcastle or in Great Britain. These interesting announcements must have intensely delighted our grandmothers; and, we fear, have frequently tempted our grandsires into a somewhat precipitate plunge into the gulf of matrimony. Instead of barely specifying, as papers now do, that Mr Smith married Miss Brown, the _Chronicle_ uniformly tantalised its bachelor readers with an account of the personal, mental, and, if such there were, metallic charms of the bride; so that how any single gentleman, in the teeth of such notifications, could retain his condition for long, is really marvellous. Most of the young ladies who had thus bestowed themselves on their fortunate admirers, are described as 'sprightly,' and many as 'genteel and agreeable;' some have 'a genteel fortune,' other's 'a considerable fortune,' and others, again, rejoice in the possession of 'a large fortune:' one man gains 'a well-accomplished young lady, with a fortune of L.1000;' another takes unto himself 'an agreeable widow lady, with a fortune of L.2000;' a third marches off with 'a young lady endowed with every accomplishment to make the marriage state happy, with a fortune of L.5000;' while a fourth _Benedict_, more lucky still, obtains 'a most amiable, affable, and agreeable young lady, with a fortune of L.10,000.' We suppose that the best excuse newspaper editors now have for being less florid in their matrimonial announcements is, that where the papers formerly had one, they have now at least a dozen of these interesting notices; so that their brevity may be less owing to the want of gallantry than to the want of space.

So extremely meagre was the news, both foreign and domestic, that a considerable portion of the four small pages of the _Chronicle_ was usually devoted to literature. Extracts were frequently given from the works of Johnson, Smollett, and other popular writers, and a column was often occupied by an essay from a contributor to the paper, generally treating of some social evil or peculiarity, but never intermeddling with local or general politics. These effusions displayed a very respectable amount of ability, and the general getting-up, or what would now be termed the sub-editing of the paper, was also performed with care and ability. The scraps of news were always presented rewritten and carefully condensed, instead of the loose 'scissors-and-paste' style of publication adopted by many provincial papers of the present day. Notices not only of local theatricals, but of histrionic matters at Old Drury, were occasionally given; the number for March 15, 1766, containing a well-written criticism of '_The Clandestine Marriage; a New Comedy_,' performed there. As the _Chronicle_ thus had to leave politics for literature, we may perhaps, in our turn, digress from a consideration of its pages, to note briefly that this period was set in the very midst of the celebrated Georgian era, in which this country could boast of more distinguished men--especially in literature--than at any other period. In about twenty previous years, many great ones had departed--notably Pope, Thomson, Fielding. Richardson also had died in 1761, and Shenstone in 1763; the author of the _Night-Thoughts_ survived till 1765, when his burial was announced in the _Chronicle_ of April 27. At this time (1765-6), Dr Johnson had reached the zenith of his fame; Gray was becoming popular; Smollett had written most of his novels; Goldsmith was about to present the world with his exquisite _Vicar of Wakefield_; Gibbon had returned to England from Rome with the idea of _The Decline and Fall_ floating in his brain; Thomas Chatterton,

----'the marvellous boy,
The sleepless soul that perished in his pride,'

had already given proofs of his wondrous precocity; the genuine sailor-poet, Falconer, had lately published _The Shipwreck_; Laurence Sterne had just collected the materials for his _Sentimental Journey_; Sir William Blackstone had published his celebrated _Commentaries_; Wesley and Whitefield had not yet ended their useful career; the star of Edmund Burke was rising; and Jeremy Bentham, being then (1766) but seventeen years of age, had taken his master's degree at Oxford, although, it is true, the first literary performance of the eccentric philosopher did not appear till some years later. Home, Moore, and Colman, had appeared successfully as dramatists, and were about to be followed by Macklin, Cumberland, Goldsmith, and Sheridan. Newcastle or district celebrities of the time included Mark Akenside, the author of _The Pleasures of the Imagination_; Dr Thomas Percy, dean of Carlisle, who published, in 1765, his _Reliques of English Poetry_; and Dr John Langhorne, a northern divine of no small popularity in his day as a poet. Among other illustrious living men, were Horace Walpole, Henry Mackenzie, Blair, Hume, Adam Smith, Dr Robertson, Garrick, Reynolds; and last, not least, William Pitt, who, in 1766, was created Earl of Chatham.

But let us return to our more immediate purpose--that of making a few selections from the _Chronicle_, some of which will doubtless reflect far less credit on the age than the enumeration we have just made of eminent individuals. Now and then, a duel took place in Hyde Park. The amusements of some of our aristocrats did not always exhibit them in any very dignified position, as witness the subjoined:--'Sir Charles Bunbury ran 100 yards at Newmarket for 1000 guineas, against a tailor with 40 lb. weight of cabbage, _alias_ shreds.'

Here is a paragraph, from the number for March 15, 1766, relative to the recreations of some less elevated in the social scale: 'Sunday morning, a little before three o'clock, a match at marbles was played under the piazza at Covent Garden by the light of thirty-two links (by several rogues well known in that circle), for twenty guineas a side.'

A few other quotations may be deemed worthy of republication, although some of them may have no direct or important bearing. The audacity of highway robbers at this period is known to everybody. The following, dated December 21, 1765, gives a tolerably correct idea of the usual style adopted by those gentlemen of the road:--'Thursday, the Leeds and Leicester stage-coaches were stopped on Finchley Common by a highwayman, who took from the passengers a considerable sum of money. A nobleman's cook, a young woman about twenty-five, declared she would not be robbed, when the highwayman, admiring her courage, let her alone. He broke the coach-glass with his pistol, and gave the coachman half-a-crown to get it mended.' News from London, dated January 9, 1765, says: 'Early on Tuesday morning, a member of parliament, on his return home in a chair to his house in New Palace Yard, was stopped and robbed by a single footpad of his purse, in which were sixty-three guineas.'

About the same time, we are informed that 'the celebrated J.J. Rousseau hath for the present taken up his residence at a friend's house in Putney.'--The number for October 26, 1765, contains an advertisement of a 'beggar's stand' (copied from the _Public Advertiser_), 'to be let, in a charitable neighbourhood. Income, about 30s. a week.'

The following reference to our acquaintances, the Sikhs, now sufficiently well known, is curious, as it is doubtless one of their first appearances in the columns of the English press. It is dated July 5, 1766: 'The Seyques, an idolatrous people inhabiting the neighbourhood of Cachemire, whose name was hardly known two years ago, have beaten Abdaly and the Patanes whom he commanded.' Modern Cockneys would stare to read a paragraph like this: 'A great deal of grass hath been cut down about Islington, Kentish-Town,' &c.

We will conclude our selections, which have now grown quite desultory and miscellaneous, by the brief obituary of a 'remarkable' man, from the _Chronicle_ of July 26, 1766: 'Thursday, died at his house near Hampstead, the Rev. Mr Southcote, remarkable for having a leg of mutton every night for supper during a course of forty years, smoking ten pipes as constantly, and drinking three bottles of port.'

GENIUS FOR EMIGRATION.

Lady E. Stuart Wortley, in the account of her journey in America, mentions that she saw a man proceeding on foot across the Isthmus of Panama, bound for the Pacific, carrying a huge box on his back that would almost have contained a house. It was really a dreadful thing to see the poor man, full-cry for California, toiling along with his enormous burden, under a tropical sun, the heat of which he required to endure through forty miles of wilderness, and no chance of relief or refreshment by the way. Yet this serio-comic spectacle is not singular. Multitudes seem to have gone to the diggings with every species of encumbrance, and in a totally unsuitable garb. Splendid dress-coats and waistcoats, boots and pantaloons, but no working-clothes, nor implements for camping, and in many instances not even a cloak: everything suitable for the enjoyment of their golden promises, with nothing to assist in realising them.

Nearly the same thing has occurred in innumerable instances as regards Australia. The men going thither must in general be shepherds or their masters; and to be either to any purpose, they must go far into the bush. For this they required a talent for constructing huts for themselves and servants, and hurdles for the cattle, and consequently tools to assist them; but they often went without either tools or talents, and so had to pay extravagantly for very common services. They may have had common clothes, but they had made no provision for living far from the assistance of women; and consequently, if a coat-sleeve was torn, it must hang just as it was; if a stocking was out at heel, having neither needles nor worsted, nor the power of using them, they had no other resource but to _tie_ the _hole_ together. They had no idea of washing and dressing, and consequently must want clean linen, or stockings, and every other article of clean apparel, till a woman could be heard of, and bribed to assist them. The consequence was, that it was cheaper to buy new articles than either wash or mend the old. It is doubtful whether many had not omitted to learn to shave themselves, or to provide razors or strops, or even scissors.

Then as to baking bread, or cooking the humblest meal, they were equally at a loss. They seem to have had no idea of the humblest grate, or even of a flat and easily-cleaned stone for a hearth; and so, having kneaded their 'damper,' it is never said how they thrust it in the ashes till it was partially heated, and comparatively fit to be eaten. They have mutton, and mutton only; but how cooked is equally unknown. It is not known that they have any apparatus whatever, stew or frying pan, or even a hook and string. Yet the natives of Scotland may have seen many things nicely baked by means of a hot hearthstone below, a griddle with live coals above, and burning turf all round. A single pot with water is a boiler; with the juice of the meat, or little more, a stew-pan; or merely surrounded by fire, an oven: but it is believed many have not that single pot. Even the cheap crock that holds salted meat might also be turned into a pudding-dish; and such a vessel as that which of old held the ashes of the dead, and now occasionally holds salt, the French peasant often turns into a _pot-au-feu_--a pot for boiling his soup--and makes that soup out of docks and nettles collected by the wayside, with a little meal--delicious if seasoned with salt and a scrap of meat, or a well-picked lark or sparrow, or even a nicely-skinned and washed thigh of a frog!

The natives of New Holland themselves get fat upon serpents well-killed--that is, with the heads adroitly cut off, so as not to suffer the poison to go through the body; or upon earth or tree worms nicely roasted. The Turks roast their _kebabs_--something near to mutton-chops--by holding them to the fire on skewers. But the inhabitants of Great Britain, accustomed to comforts unknown to any other part of the world, are, when deprived of these comforts, the most helpless in the world.

The natives of Ireland might be supposed to be excellent subjects for emigration, for at home they have often only straw and rags for beds, stones for seats, and one larger in the middle for a table; while the basket or 'kish' that washes the potatoes, receives them again when boiled: so that the pot and basket are the only articles of furniture. Simplicity beyond this is hardly conceivable: there is but one step beyond it--wanting the pot, and throwing the potatoes, however cooked, broadcast upon the stone-table; and this is possible by roasting the potatoes in the embers. The Guachos of South America teach how even the most savoury meal of beef may be obtained without pot or oven--namely, by roasting it in the skin! It is called _carne-con-cuero_--flesh in the skin--and is pronounced delicious. Diogenes threw away his dish, his only article of furniture, upon seeing a boy drink from his hand; and after this example, an Irishman might throw away his pot; though we would not recommend him to do so.

Unless people know how to prepare food, they may starve in the midst of comparative plenty. It is alleged--though we do not vouch for the fact--that when wheat and maize were carried into Ireland and given gratis, the famine was not stayed. Though they had the wheat and maize, they could not grind them; if ground, they could not cook them--they had neither vessels nor fuel; if vessels and fuel were given, they were still unable to assist themselves--they had not skill to cook them; and if cooked, they could not eat them--they had never been accustomed to do so! Such are the effects of carrying contentment too far: the individual becomes wholly resourceless.

We try to induce them to fish with the same results. If we give them boats, they have no nets; give them nets, they know not how to use them; teach them to use them, and they can neither cook nor eat the fish; and as to selling them for other comforts, there is no market! Without a knowledge of agriculture, or fishing, or even talents to feed themselves, such men are useless in any quarter, unless as subjects to be taught; and now at last, but greatly too late, they are being taught, and the much-abused railway will carry their produce to the market.

The Scottish Celt is more shifty. In the old days when he had flesh and little else to eat, he could broil it on the coals; and a Scotch collop is perhaps equal to a Turkish kebob. We wonder if in Australia the long-forgotten Scotch collop has been revived? It requires no cooking-vessels. It may be held to the fire on a twig, or laid on the coals and turned by a similar twig--bent into a collop-tongs--or even by the fingers.

In the Rebellion of 1745, the Scoto-Celt could knead into a cake the meal, which he carried as his sole provision, and knew that it ought to be fired upon a griddle; but if he had no other convenience, he could knead it in his bonnet, and eat it raw, and go forth to meet and conquer the best-appointed soldiers in Europe. It was only when at last he had neither rest nor food that he was dispersed--not conquered. A lowland Scot is better. With a dish and hot water, and of course the meal and salt, he can make _brose_, and live and thrive upon it.

How John Bull, who in his own country is carnivorous, and will have his roast-pig on Sunday, if he should slave all the week--how he gets on in a new country, is more doubtful. Very likely, having more wants, he makes more provision for them; but as below a certain rank he is not a writing animal, less is known of his successes or difficulties. For our own part, we think we would have made an excellent Crusoe, and your Crusoe is the only man for a new country.

Some years ago, we travelled over the backbone of Scotland, and returned somewhat on its western fin, both on foot; and all our equipments were a travelling dress, a stout umbrella, and a parcel in wax-cloth strapped on our left shoulder, not larger than is generally seen in the hands of a commercial traveller--that is, twelve inches by six or eight; and yet we never wanted for anything. It is true we had generally the convenience of inns by the way; but if by our _Traveller's Guide_ (which we also carried) we saw the stage was to be long, an oaten cake, with a _plug_ of wheaten bread for the last mouthful, to keep down heartburn, and a slice of cold beef or ham, or a hard-boiled egg, were ample provisions. Drink? There was no lack of drink. Springs of the most beautiful water were frequent by the roadside, and constantly bubbling up, without noise or motion, through the purest sand, though heaven only was looking upon them; and a single leaf from our memorandum-book, formed into the shape of a grocer's twist as wanted, served us as a drinking-cup throughout the journey. Had we even been overtaken by night, it was summer, and a bed under whins, or upon heather, with our umbrella set against the wind, and secured to us, would have been delightful. Once, indeed, we feared this would have been our fate; for on the very top of Corryarrick, and consequently nine miles or more from house or home in any direction, we sprained our ankle, or rather an old sprain returned. To all appearance, we were done for, and might have sat stiff for days or weeks by the solitary spring that happened to be near at the instant. But a piece of flannel from the throat, and a tape from the wondrous parcel, enabled us again to wag; and we finished our allotted journey to Dalwhinnie in time for dinner, tea, and supper in one--and then to our journal with glorious serenity!

Our arrangements for the continent were equally simple. When we were asked to shew our luggage, on entering France, we produced a portmanteau nine inches by six. 'Voila ma magasin!' It was opened, and there were certainly some superfluities, though natural enough in an incipient traveller. 'Une plume pour ecrire l'Histoire de la France!'--'Un cahier pour la meme!' And the intending historian of France, even with his imported pen and paper-book, and also three shirts and some pairs of socks, was allowed to go to his dinner, with his _magasin_ in his hand, and start by the first conveyance; while his less fortunate fellow-travellers had to dine in absence of their luggage, and perhaps give the town that had the honour of being their landing-place, the profit of their company for the night.

But what is the use of all these insinuations of aptitude for colonisation, when there is not such another man in the world? We beg pardon; but we have actually discovered such another, and to introduce him suitably has been the sole aim of our existence in writing this interesting preface. In a most authentic newspaper, we find the following admirable history, copied from the _New York Express_:--

'A man who had been an unsuccessful delver in the mines of Georgia, on hearing the thrilling news of the gold placers of California, had his spirit quickened within him; and although he had arrived at an age--being about sixty--when the fires of youth usually cease to burn with vigour, he fixed his eyes upon the far-distant and but little-known country, and resolved that he would wend his way thither alone, and even in the absence of that friend, generally thought indispensable, money, of which he was wholly destitute.

'Under such circumstances, it would not avail to think of a passage round "The Horn," or by the more uncertain, and at the same time imperfected route, across the Isthmus. But as California was on this continent, he knew that there was a way thither, though it might lead through trackless deserts and barren wastes. These were not enough to daunt his determined spirit. He bent his way to the "Father of Waters," and worked his way as he could, till he found himself at "Independence," in health, and with no less strength, and with 150 dollars in his purse. He had no family to provide for, or even companion to care for, on the route which he was about to enter. Yet some things were necessary for himself; and to relieve his body from the pressure of a load, he provided himself with a wheel-barrow, on which to place his traps.

'It must not be supposed that our hero was ignorant of the large number of emigrants that was moving over the plains, and it is quite probable that his sagacity was precocious enough to look ahead at the result of attempting to carry forward such ponderous loads, and such a variety of at least dispensable things as the earlier parties started with. A detailed list of the 'amount and variety of goods and wares, useful and superfluous, including many of the appendages of refined and fashionable life, would astonish the reader. Our hero was not in a hurry. He reasoned thus: "The world was not made in a day; the race is not always for the swift." He trundled along his barrow, enjoying the comforts of his pipe, the object of wonder to many, and the subject of much sportive remark to those who were hurried along by their fresh and spirited teams on their first days.

'Many weeks had not passed, however, before our traveller had tangible evidence that trouble had fallen to the lot of some who had preceded him. A stray ox was feeding on his track: the mate of which, he afterwards learned, was killed, and this one turned adrift as useless. He coaxed this waif to be the companion of his journey, taking care to stop where he could provide himself with the needful sustenance. He had not travelled far before he found a mate for his ox, and ere long a wagon, which had given way in some of its parts, and been abandoned by its rightful owner, and left in the road. Our travelling genius was aroused to turn these mishaps to his own advantage; so he went straightway to work to patch and bolster up the wagon, bound his faithful oxen to it, and changed his employment from trundling a wheel-barrow to driving a team. Onward moved the new establishment, the owner gathering as he went, from the superabundance of those who had gone before him, various articles of utility--such as flour, provisions of all kinds, books, implements, even rich carpets, &c. which had been cast off as burdensome by other travellers. He would occasionally find poor worn-out animals that had been left behind, and as it was not important for him to speed his course, he gathered them together, stopping where there was abundance of grass, long enough for his cattle to gain a little strength and spirit. Time rolled on, and his wagon rolled with it, till he reached the end of his journey, when it was discovered that he had an uncommon fine team and a good wagon, &c. which produced him on the sale 2500 dollars.

'Being now relieved of the care of his team, and in the midst of the gold-diggings, he soon closed his prospecting by a location; and while all around him were concentrating their strength to consummate the work of years in a few months, he deliberately commenced building, finishing, and, as fast as he could, furnishing, a comfortable cabin. His wood he gathered and regularly piled in a straight line and perpendicular by the door, convenient as though the old lady had been within to provide his meals. He acted upon the adage, "Never to start till you are ready." Now our hero was ready to commence working his "claim;" and this he did, as he did everything else, steadily and systematically.

'He may yet be seen at his work, with the prospect--if he lives to be an old man--of being rich; for in the last two years he has accumulated 10,000 dollars.'

Need we add a word? This is decidedly the kind of man for emigrating--or, indeed, for remaining at home. We, being of his own character, can conceive his delicious nights of camping out, his head under his wheel-barrow, until he arrived at the dignity of a wagon; his principal luggage being perhaps a coverlet, to preserve him from the cold in sleep, and a gun that unscrewed, and its appendages, to provide him a fresh bird or beef. It is very probable that he sought neither of these, but was contented with something concentrated and preserved, and thus feasted; and with a drink from some delicious spring, or from a bottle--that could not be broken--supplied at the last spring he had passed, lay down conscious of his progress, well satisfied with the past, and hopeful of the future.

On his arrival at his destination, his conduct is equally exemplary. Every one should provide for the preservation of life and health as first measures; and if not done at a rate which future exertions are likely to render profitable, why make the expenditure? Now, many are in all these new adventures expending on inevitable necessities--having made no previous provision for them--such sums as render all their exertions hopeless; while at the same time they are sacrificing health and strength.

The government of Australia has certainly been very successful in preserving order at the gold placers there, and has given its sanction upon moderate terms; for here, we believe, gold and silver mines are _inter regalia_, and could have been entirely seized by the crown. We sincerely trust it will appropriate the great and unexpected revenue thence arising in improving the roads through this magnificent country, and providing shelter for the traveller; for at this moment, many of the roads being over the steepest mountains, and the gradients unmitigated by cuttings, or any other act of engineering whatever, they are all but impassable, and are travelled with the greatest torture to the unfortunate animals concerned. It was the reproach of Spain, that though in possession of South America for centuries, she had formed few roads; and that the few formed were bad, and the accommodation in their neighbourhood of the worst description--often open sheds, without food or furniture, or indeed inhabitants; or if inhabited, with only stones for seats, and raised mounds of earth for beds. Even now, in little more than half a century, things are better in Australia than this, at least wherever government has extended. But there is a vast deal more to be done; and it is a pity that in the first place suitable schools are not formed for the persons intending to emigrate, and opportunity given them to do so, without the degradation of crime, and the expense and disgrace of conviction.

EMPLOYEES AND EMPLOYED.

The _Westminster Review_ for January, in an able and temperate article, entitled _Employers and Employed_, delineates the progress of the working power from the original condition of _serfdom_, through that of _vassalage_, which prevailed in the middle ages, to the system of simple contract in which we now find it in France and America. This the writer regards as part of a universal progress towards a more and more equalised condition of the various orders of men--'an equality, not perhaps of wealth, or of mind, or of inherent power, but of social condition, and of individual rights and freedom.' In England, however, we are only in a state of transition from that relation of protection on the one hand, and respect or loyalty on the other, which constituted the system of vassalage, to the true democratic relation which assumes a perfect equality and independence in the contracting parties. 'The master cannot divest himself of the idea, that in virtue of his rank he is entitled to deference and submission; and the workman conceives that, in virtue of his comparative poverty, he is entitled to assistance in difficulty, and to protection from the consequences of his own folly and improvidence. Each party expects from the other something more than is expressed or implied in the covenant between them. The workman, asserting his equality and independence, claims from his employer services which only inferiority can legitimately demand; the master, tacitly and in his heart denying this equality and independence, repudiates claims which only the validity of this plea of equality and independence can effectually nonsuit or liquidate.'

Arguing that 'the reciprocal duties of employers and employed, _as such_, are comprised within the limits of their covenant,' the writer goes on to say, that nevertheless there remains a relation of 'fellow-citizenship and of Christian _neighbourhood_,' by virtue of which the employer owes service to his work-people, seeing that 'every man owes service to every man whom he is in a position to serve.' Let not the Pharisaic fundholder and lazy mortgagee suppose that the great employers of labour are thus under a peculiar obligation from which _they_ are exempt. The obligation is assumed to be equal upon all who have power and means; and it only lies with special weight at the door of the employer of multitudes, in as far as he is in a situation to exercise influence over their character and conduct, and usually has greater means of rendering aid suited to their particular necessities.

Before proceeding to expound the various duties thus imposed upon the employer, the writer lays down a primary duty as essential to the due performance of the rest--namely, he must see to making his business succeed; and for this end he must possess a sufficient capital at starting; and he must not, for any reasons of vanity or benevolence, or through laxness, pay higher wages than the state of the labour-market and the prospects of trade require. Of the secondary duties which next come in course--and which, be it remembered, arise not from the mastership, but from the neighbourship--the first is that of 'making his factory, and the processes carried on there, as healthy as care and sanitary science can render them.' 'This is the more incumbent upon him, as it is little likely to be thought of or demanded by his workmen. It is a topic on which his cultivated intelligence is almost sure to place him far ahead of them; and out of the superiority, as we have seen, springs the obligation.' Our reviewer adds the remark, that, 'in the minor workshops, and especially in the work-rooms of tailors and seamstresses, the employers are still, for the most part, unawakened to the importance and imperativeness of this class of obligations. The health of thousands is sacrificed from pure ignorance and want of thought.'