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much. Forgive me, Miss Whitstone: you are the fine fellow, young Bethel himself, inviting me to only human being, save Fanny herself, in whom I Bethel's Court, which my uncle has given up to have confidence, or to whom I can look for sym-him as a residence, and saying the kindest things pathy. I am sure if I knew what was best for to me and Fanny, whom he begs to call his poor Fanny, to whom I owe everything, I would cousins.' Now, the beauty-the very cream of do it, if it broke my own heart." And the sub-it-is, that he has not written to the Rectory dued youth wept. people at all."

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That duty should not be heart-breaking, Tom. Your sister, with the tender and very uncommon ties that from babyhood have knit you together, would receive far more pleasure from your single approbation of her choice, than that of all her other relations put together. Your pride, Tom, or your prejudice, call it which you will, has been far more distressing to your sister than all her other trials. And you wrong Mr. Edmund :-he only waits her slightest intimation to fly to her but while every week brought a fresh heroic epistle from you-indeed, you must forgive my freedom, Tom-what could the poor girl do? I assure you she has not wanted for my instigation to follow the dictates of her own heart and judgment in a matter which looks like one of life or death to her."

"I know you entertain but an indifferent opinion of my understanding and knowledge of life, ma'ain," said Tom, with some pique;" but I am sure you cannot doubt the sincerity of my love for my sister."

"If I did so, sir, I should not now be thus parleying with you," replied the lady with severity.

"Well, dear ma'am," returned Tom insinuatingly, "you who love my own dear Fannythat best, kindest, gentlest, sweetest of all sisters -so well, will you allow me one last experiment of a week's duration only? And, if it fail, I promise to give my consent to Captain Bethel's daughter becoming an artist's wife." The heroic air with which this was said, provoked a smile on the placid and benevolent features of Miss Whitstone, in spite of herself; and, before she could speak, Testy Tom exclaimed, “You laugh at me, as a foolish, raw schoolboy; but I don't mind that, so that you trust me this once."

"Laugh at you, Tom! no, surely-on the contrary, I am hand in glove with you; but may we learn the nature of your scheme, which I can have no doubt does equal honor to your fraternal affection, and Etonian acuteness ?""

"You must not laugh at me, though," returned Thomas, his face mantling with the consciousness of possessing a delightful mystery-"I can bear you to laugh at me about anything in the world, save this." And he took a letter from his pocketbook. "You won't guess who this is from: my late aunt's heir, the Northern Bethel, as we have been used to call him. Ill as my uncle and the whole family have used him-neglected him like a poor relation, and hated him like an heir presumptive-he has behaved like an angel to my Uncle Bethel. He has been at Aix-la-Chapelle to visit him; and one of our gentlemen (viz., an Eton boy) informs me that it is understood he is to allow my uncle to enjoy a full half of my late aunt's revenue for the remainder of his life. My Uncle, you may be sure, was touched with this delicate generosity; for, beyond the term of her death, he was not, by law, entitled to draw one shilling. He has written me to be an attentive scholar, as he means to carry out the original plan of my education. But this letter"-and Tom struck it with his open fingers-"this is from that

Tom's eyes sparkled with gratified revenge. "So it won't be madam, my aunt, who can either obtain for me and my friends, or refuse us, a day's shooting at Bethel's Court, in a hurry again-or act as if all its gardens, hot-houses, and vineries, were more hers and her daughters', than poor Fanny's and mine."

Miss Whitstone, who had smiled all along, was now reading the letter, which she pronounced charming. "But, then, what has all this to do with delaying Mr. Edmund's answer a week, when the suspense is so hurtful to your sister's spirits, and so disrespectful to a person of whom we all have reason to think so highly as we do of Mr. Edmund ?"

Tom suddenly recollected himself. "I shall tell you, only you, that, ma'am—for, wild dreamer as you may conclude me, I am sure you will not betray me; I wish Fanny to see Mr. Bethel, before she irrevocably pledge her fate. I am told he is a very well-looking man, and an accomplished, perfect gentleman; and you know, when a man comes to his property, he always thinks of marrying."

"At any rate, I am sure you will, Tom," said the smiling lady. "But what then?" "What then? Dear ma'am, you are not wont to be so dull of apprehension:-if, which I think extremely likely, he should fancy our own Fanny!"

Miss Whitstone laughed heartily over Tom's basket of unhatched chickens; but looked in such good humor, that Tom durst not resent the liberty; and she atoned for all, by vowing that she knew not where the new inhabitant of Bethel's Court could find any wife half so charming or half so worthy of him. "And to have her, sweetest creature, so near me, too!" said the old lady, actually melting into delicious tears at Tom's hairbrained scheme. "But, poor Mr. Edmund!" she sighed, at last, but yet smiled as she looked to Tom. "Poh! never mind, my dear ma'am: I assure you we, lords of creation, are by no means so inconsolable upon such occasions as you ladies sometimes flatter yourselves. He shall get young Mrs. Bethel's picture to paint, at five hundred guineas and, perhaps, if he wait ten years, my aunt, who admires him so much for Fanny, will give him my cousin Harriet."

Tom permitted Miss Whitstone to tell his sister the conditions upon which his brotherly approbation was to be obtained to her marriage:—namely, if she did not prefer Mr. Bethel in one week, or failed to make a conquest of him in one month. Tom now stipulated that it should be a full month after that gentleman's arrival; but he was hourly expected. Even with this distorted prospect of a haven, Fanny rather improved in spirits; for there was no chance of any one falling in love with her-she was sure of that--and as for her fidelity!

Tom did the best he could to cheer her, and get her into good looks and proper training, before the important first interview.

Next day, cards were issued, by Mrs. Dr. Bethel, to the relatives and such neighbors as she

deemed proper for Mr. Bethel's acquaintance, for a welcoming dinner at Bethel's Court, to be followed by a ball to the tenants and a few friends. Tom swelled with indignation in the knowledge that his aunt assumed to manage this entertainment—at the owner's expense, howeverand, at once, to take Fanny's intended lover into her own dexterous hands. He vowed to circumvent her.

When the day of the entertainment came, Fanny was so nervous and distressed that there was no need to feign the headache which she pleaded as an excuse for absence in the note sent to her aunt, by whom her illness was very graciously lamented. Mrs. Dr. Bethel did not approve of distracting a young gentleman's affections by too many fair objects at the same time. He had his choice of Harriet, the stately and stylish, and Frances, the lively and pretty, with the different foils her maternal cares had collected in the neighborhood.

From the quarrel originating in the family mourning, Tom had not once crossed the threshold of the Rectory. He lived with a family in the vicinity of Bethel's Court, but beyond it in relation to Wincham, and only arrived in that town to see his sister receive those finishing touches in dress from Miss Collins' own hands, and those of the most fashionable friseur in the place, which he had bespoken; and to attend her to the grand scene of display.

What was Tom's horror-and, in spite of all his tenderness, his anger-to find his beauty of the night, languid, pale, exhausted, and bearing deep traces of suffering and recent tears! He scolded, he kissed, he coaxed in turns. Surely she would go with him to the ball? "It was not too late for that, though they might miss dinner. She might even lie down for an hour to refresh herself, and recover her looks. Their allies, the Taylors, and her particular correspondent and admirer, Mr. Richard, were come down, and would be so rejoiced to see her."

"I know all that," returned Fanny; "but with them came Mr. Edmund! Indeed, indeed, Tom -dear brother-you must not force me out tonight."

Tom looked aghast at her information, and muttered what sounded in her ears as curses of her lover. Spite of her gentleness, this was more than Fanny could endure. "I will not hear this!" she exclaimed passionately, and becoming deadly pale, as if about to faint; and Tom, overcome and alarmed, implored her forgiveness, and brought Miss Whitstone to mediate for him, and restore Fanny. Tom began to fancy that there might be, even among girls, affections too strong and deep to be fully understood by the wits of Eton. Fanny, who had never denied any request of Tom's in her whole life, however unreasonable in itself, was not slow to accord her forgiveness, deeply and indelibly as his conduct had wounded her heart; and no sooner was he pardoned than, like a true man, he returned to his original point: "Would she not confirm his pardon by granting his request-to appear with him when he was first presented to Mr. Bethel-whose good opinion and friendship might be so important to his future prospects?" Tom now pleaded on the score of prudence, and as if for the greatest personal favor; and Miss Whitstone at last joined him. Indeed, my love, I think you might gratify Tom this once, since he has set his heart upon it-with so many old

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friends to see too-and the new master of Bethel's Court might, I flatter myself, miss his young cousins."

"Cousins a hundred and fifty times removed," said Fanny, almost pettishly. But, with her natural sweetness, she added-" Since you rule it so, ma'am, I shall prepare." And as she rose, Tom kissed her over and over, and ran himself to the perfumer's for as much rose-water to take away the redness about her eyes, as might have halfdrowned her. His charges to Miss Collins and Patty, who were now both summoned by Tom as assistant dressers, were, "Now, don't let Miss Bethel make a dowdy of herself." And when the dressing was finished, though Patty declared that, in that clear muslin frock and white satin slip, she looked like an angel, Tom found her not half like enough to a "Fashion of the Month" to please him. Her gloves did not fit, and her slippers-far too large for her-were, indeed, what it would have made Tom mad to know, misfits of her cousin Fanny's, sent to her in economy. Then her ringlets drooped too long and hung too free. Fashionable girls wore their hair at present so -Tom could not name it, but he endeavored to imitate the thing he meant; and Miss Collins joined in opinion with him; while Patty cried"Oh no! Those lovely flowing ringlets which Mr. Edmund thinks so charming a style for Miss Bethel!" Tom would not curse now; but it cost him an effort to be tranquil, while he inquired why Fanny did not wear her pearls with the ruby clasps-her mother's beautiful pearls, which had been preserved for her; and he requested her, at least on this gala night, to gratify him by using those ornaments. They were at the rectory. "Then, we shall call round till you get themand your mother's beautiful Cachmere too:-and then, if our Fanny-hey, Miss Whitstone !-cannot be so fashionable as Aunt Bethel's bedizened beauties, she shall be as expensively attired."

"Now, Tom, my dear boy, keep your temper," said the lady addressed. "I was almost as angry with Fanny's simplicity yesterday, as you could have been; and even more angry with the encroaching, selfish temper of my cousin, who chose to display the shawl to advantage on Harriet's fine figure, and contrast the strings of pearls with her own Fanny's dark tresses. Let us hope that the principal beaux to-night-those worth killing, I mean-believe, though the belief grows every day more rare, that loveliness needs not'-you all remember it. At least, my love, if the gentlemen of Bethel's Court don't admire you just as you are, be assured that Patty, and myself, and Mr. Edmund will-and Mr. Tom also."

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"And that is all I care for," said the distracted Fanny, taking leave. "But how I wish this night were over, and I was back to you?-but don't you sit for me."

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Nay, I shall sit. You know, I am this night to give you, and Mr. Edmund, and friend Tom there, if he choose, and Mr. Richard Taylor, my very old friend, a petit souper, of sago and small negus, in my own chamber, in the style of the Old Court."

"Don't wait us, pray, ma'am," cried Tom, pulling his sister's arm within his own, tolerably well pleased, or reconciled to Fanny's dress, and fancying her ringlets not unbecoming after all, and tolerably confident that she must captivate Mr. Bethel if she would only set out. His kind encouragement, and thanks for exertion to oblige

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him, and a drive in the quiet starlight, with Tom's | Fanny and her brother were below, Mr. Bethel arm around her, tended to tranquillize Fanny's stood as it were upon a platform, or dais, with his spirits. "It is but a few more hours," she whis- back to those advancing. It was with difficulty pered to herself" and then but a few days; and that Tom, with his supporting arm round her as soon as poor Tom, who does all these cruel waist, dragged his sister up these few steps; but, things from the truest, though the most mistaken, upon the last, she sunk on her knees, and leaned love for me, learns to know Mr. Edmund, as he upon his shoulder; while, moved, as if by an incannot fail soon to be known, we shall be so stinctive feeling of her presence-for he could happy, with again a home, a fireside of our own scarcely have seen her-Mr. Bethel disengaged -a happiness we have never known from infancy. himself from the arms of mother and daughter, I shall be so glad to see the Taylors, too, who and flew to Fanny's assistance. were so kind to us in childhood." And she said aloud "You remember the Brunswick Square Taylors, Tom, who were so kind to us when we came from India?"

"Well-and also who gave you that famous Frau Jansen which Harriet robbed you of, as she has to-night of your Cachmere. By Heavens! if I saw her hanging on Mr. Bethel's arm in that shawl, I would almost pluck it from her shoulders."

"Very well, indeed!" said the younger lady, with a sneer. "If Fanny be late, she is determined to make a sensation when she does come." But Mrs. Bethel advanced to the group. Fanny had not_fainted. She held the hands of her brother Tom and Mr. Edmund in her own, while her beautiful face, now richly suffused with rosy bloom, breathed the rapture of a spirit that first sees unfolded the gates of Paradise.

Though I had not seen Little Fanny Bethel for The carriage was now within the extensive so many years-standing where she stood, and grounds of Bethel's Court; and at every opening looking as she then looked, and knowing all I of the trees, or curve of the long winding ap- knew, I recognized her in the instant, and introproach, glimpses of the illuminated mansion were duced myself. Then turning to Tom, after a alternately caught, and again darkened in shadow friendly shake of his disengaged hand, I claimed or lost in total obscurity. Though the Allahbad the privilege, as a common acquaintance, of introBethels had now resided for more than twelve ducing Mr. Edmund Bethel to Mr. Thomas Bethel. years in this vicinity, neither of them had ever All his Etonian self-possession could not sustain before seen the cheerful, life-giving sight of even- Tom at this instant. His face became of twenty ing lights in their ancestral home. The house colors, the burning crimson of shame predomistood rather low, by the river, which made so fine nating, and remaining fixed on his brow.

pered; and Fanny smiled like an angelic being.

a feature in the home landscape; and, as they "Oh, what a fool I have been!-what a monpassed through the thick obscurity of the neigh-ster to my poor Fanny!-who, while she has fifty boring groves, they found the old hereditary rooks times my goodness, has a hundred times my startled from their nests, wheeling overhead, and sense." Mr. Bethel, without exactly hearing or cawing in terror. When the full sweep of the caring to hear these words, shook hands most corlow, wide, blazing architectural front burst upon dially with Tom, "his cousin"-to whom he them, every object touched by the magic of light" hoped soon to be more nearly allied," he whisand shadow, Tom Bethel, in the high-wrought enthusiasm of the moment, pressed his sister more closely to his side, and exclaimed, "My own darling Fanny! could I but once see you the mistress of that house, I would give up every wish, surmount every care, for myself." And Tom was not more insincere than thousands of brothers and mothers have been before him, who, in pursuing their own half-selfish ambition, fancy

"Fanny, my dear," said the advancing Mrs. Bethel, "what tempted you to brave the night air? I shall positively send you back with the carriage which has brought you-"

"Oh, do, dear ma'am," returned Fanny, who found this proposal the greatest possible relief in the present state of her feelings.

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they are making amazing sacrifices to promote the Bethel," continued the bus I assure you, for

happiness of the being they torment.

The aristocracy of the party were leaving the drawing-room to proceed to the saloon-as the old stone hall had been new-named-to open the ball, as Tom Bethel's chaise drove up; and, amid the blaze of flambeaux without, and lamps within, he perceived, far off, his aunt, and his cousin Harriet, in the Cachmere, conducted by a gentleman, whom he rightly concluded the master of the mansion.

Leave my niece to my management, Mr. stling lady; "I shall chide cousin Whitstone well, letting her abroad. Come, Fanny, dear, I shall send Hopkins, my own maid, home with you." "I will attend my sister home," cried Tom Bethel.

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"I must be permitted that honor," cried Mr. Bethel. "My friendly guests, to whom I am quite a stranger-save, I dare say, that I have painted staring portraits of some of them-will gladly take Tom and Mr. Henry as my gay substitutes in their revel!"

Mrs. Bethel stared. "I would give up my claim for no man living, save Mr. Edmund Bethel," was my rejoinder.

"They 've hooked him already, by all that 's sacred!" whispered Tom. "O, Fanny! why would you not come sooner? But, for any sake, now, don't be foolish-don't tremble so, you dear little fool." He lifted her out, and they entered Mrs. Bethel started! and looked from one to the hall. Mr. Bethel and his ladies had paused another. The truth flashed upon her mind. She in crossing, at the far end of the hall, to examine had overshot the mark. Exquisite dissembler as some of that rare quaint rich carving in wood, still she was, it was impossible altogether to conceal to be found in a few ancient English mansions. her feelings upon this singular turn of fortune. and for which England was at one time so cele- Tom Bethel gloated upon the passionate working brated. His party, and those approaching them, and twitching of his aunt's features. He ran himwere still separated by a short flight of marble self to inform Harriet, that Mr. Edmund, the steps, running across the hall; so that, while painter, whose addresses to his sister had lately

been urged on by her mother, was none other than much as Tom could himself have done, though Mr. Edmund Bethel! Her stifled scream of sur-that painter was myself!" prise was music to him.

Nothing could be better said; and few explana

It was finally settled that Mr. Bethel and my-tions were required. Mr. Edmund Bethel had self should attend Fanny to Wincham, while Tom wished to spend a summer, near Bethel's court, and Henry Bethel, who were every way qualified, and had found inducements to return another and should do the honors of the rustic ball. I pretend- another. It seems I had, among so many Bethed a love of free air and star-gazing, and desired to els, introduced him as Mr. Edmund, and he kept sit without; and, though Fanny pleaded and pro- by the half-name given him. The marriage took tested that I would catch cold, I persisted—and I place in a month afterwards, to the entire satisfachope she forgave my obstinacy. She ran to Miss tion of all Wincham and Stockham-Magna-so Whitstone-smiling, benevolent, happy Miss universal a favorite was Fanny. It was, perhaps, Whitstone-as we entered the house; and play- the only marriage ever contracted under such flatfully chided her for having so mystified them, and tering auspices; for even Mrs. Bethel was with allowed Tom to commit himself. "Poor Tom is the majority. She very properly said that, if she still so young, poor fellow!" said she, stealing at had consented while Fanny's lover was an obscure Mr. Bethel one of her old childish looks of inno-person, how rejoiced she must be now to find him cent fascination,-" and he loves me so truly!" one so different!

"And that affection might cover a multitude of On the day of his sister's marriage, Tom obsins, were they ten times worse than those of poor tained an appointment as midshipman in his MajTom," returned Mr. Bethel. "Be assured, I for-esty's navy. He is now a lieutenant, and has lost, give his no-offence to myself most sincerely. In- with much of his Latin and Greek, a great deal of deed, Fanny, I grudged you to a poor painter as his Etonian refinement and knowledge of the world.

THE HUSBAND'S COMPLAINT.

I HATE the name of German wool in all its colors bright;

Of chairs and stools in fancy-work I hate the very sight.

She stares the men quite out of face; and when I ask her why?

"Tis, "O! my love, the pattern of his waistcoat struck my eye."

And if to walk I am inclined ('t is seldom I go out,) every worsted-shop she sees, oh! how she looks about,

The shawls and slippers that I've seen-the otto-At mans and bags

Sooner than wear a stitch on me, I'd walk the street in rags.

I've heard of wives too musical, too talkative, or quiet

Of scolding or of gaming wives, and those too fond of riot;

But yet, of all the errors known which to the women fall,

For ever doing fancy-work I think exceeds them all.

The other day, when I came home, no dinner got
for me;
I asked my wife the reason,
"One, two, three!"

and she answered,

I told her I was hungry, and I stamped upon the

floor;

She never even looked at me, but murmured, "One green more."

Of course she makes me angry, though she does n't care for that,

But chatters, while I talk to her, "One white, and then a black.

One green, and then a purple-(just hold your tongue, my dear;

You really do annoy me so)-I've made a wrong

stitch here."

And as for confidential chat, with her eternal frame, Though I should speak of fifty things, she'd answer me the same.

"T is, “Yes, love—five reds, then a black-(I quite agree with you)—

I've done this wrong-seven, eight, nine, ten-an orange, then a blue."

If any lady comes to tea, her bag is first surveyed; And, if the pattern pleases her, a copy then is made.

And says,

"Bless me! I must go in-the pattern is so rare;

That group of flowers is just the thing I wanted for my chair."

Besides, the things she makes are all such touchme-not affairs,

I dare
'T was

not even use a stool nor screen: and, as for chairs,

only yesterday I put my youngest boy in

one,

And until then I never knew my wife had such a tongue.

T is "

Alas! for my poor little ones, they dare not move
Tom, be still; put down that bag. Why,
or speak;
standing on that stool! it was not made
Harriet, where 's your feet?

Maria!

for use ;

Be silent all. Three greens, one red, a blue, and then a puce.'

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From Chambers' Journal.

Ir is nine years since we addressed our readers in a formal manner about ourselves. Will they have patience with an egotism which observes such a long silence? We presume they will, and shall therefore proceed to say a few words about our position and prospects.

The Journal is now entering upon its fourteenth year. We begin to get letters from lady subscribers, who tell us they commenced reading it when they were little girls, and now have two babies rapidly rising to strike in as readers too. In fact, it is becoming a somewhat venerable publication. Well, we trust it is not the worse for that, but somewhat the better. We are at least assured that its acceptance with the public is not less than it ever was, for its sale-raised one-half by the change of size-is not much under ninety thousand copies. The most popular magazines circulate, we believe, from six to nine thousand; but the sale of the Journal in its magazine shape alone (the monthly part being strictly a magazine) is about forty thousand. During the currency of this work, we have brought out several others: a series of books designed to aid in the realization of an improved education; a kind of encyclopædia for the middle and working-classes;† a history of English literature, chiefly intended to introduce the young to the Pantheon of our national authors. And all of these works have met with success hardly less marked than that of the Journal. Indeed, that of the Information for the People has been considerably more, for the average sale of the numbers of that publication has been about a hundred and thirty thousand-a fact, we believe, unprecedented in the same department of literature. More recently we have commenced another work, a series of tracts designed for the instruction and entertainment of a still humbler class of readers; and already it would appear as if the ordinary sale of this work is to be greatly beyond that of any other, the impressions required of the first few numbers (all yet prepared) having been in no case less than a hundred and fifty thousand, and in some instances nearly two hundred thousand, copies. Verily, it must be admitted, there is here a vast diffusion of literature, of whatever kind it may be. Or may we not rather say that these things mark an entirely new era in literature, something which throws all the former efforts of the press into the

shade?

Sev

Let us just look for a moment into the details of this phenomenon. We write at present in a huge building of four stories, flanked by a powerful steam-engine, and with the noise of ten printing machines continually sounding in our ears. eral of these are engaged in working off impressions, the production of which at a common handpress, such as formed the sole means of typography a few years ago, would have required nearly the time then requisite for a voyage to India and back. A hundred and twenty persons are required for all the duties which proceed in this large structure, though these have exclusively a regard to works edited by ourselves. Upwards of a quarter of a million of printed sheets leave the house each week, being as many as the whole newspaper

*Educational Course-37 volumes published.

press of Scotland issued in a month about the year 1833. Our publications, which at first were expected by the booksellers to be the ruin of their business, do not yield them less than fifteen thousand pounds a-year of profit; while yet the number of ordinary books published each year, instead of being diminished, is considerably increased. These are some of the material details; but who shall say what are the particulars of the moral results We willingly allow each man to judge from what of this enormous contagion of paper and print! he observes in his own familiar circle. We have, for our part, a general and all-sufficient faith. these matters, often say to us, "What a power be a greater mistake. It is not a power for evil for good or evil you possess!" There could not other editors. Similar works without number at all. This has been tried, and fully proved, by have been presented to the public, but, because they pandered to the meaner feelings of our nature, they invariably failed. We have ever felt, that, whatever might be our own inclinations, we must aim at the pure, the elevating, and good, if we would wish our publications to acquire any pernotion, we believe, among the clever fellows, that manent hold of the public mind. It is a common the public is to be gulled, tickled, addressed as a child, and that, the lower the tone assumed, they will be the more pleased. Our experience says had, an unfeigned respect for both the intellectual quite the reverse. We have, and always have and moral character of the public. We sincerely believe that the higher sentiments rule its general procedure, and that the grosser souls are in all ordinary circumstances powerless. We therefore never doubted that, in earnestly seeking to give good counsel and innocent entertainment, we were have dictated, all the sophistications of all the taking the course which common prudence would Jenkinsons notwithstanding; and it is thus that we feel assured of our publications being attended with good effects upon the community. They only have a large sale because they address and meet responses in the better feelings of the mass of our countrymen.

Friends to whom we chance to mention some of

When the publications of Mr. Knight and others are taken into account, it will be seen that the amount of literature now diffused among the people must be something very different from what it was a few years ago. On a moderate calculation, fully doubled by the other works of a respectable we cannot doubt that our own publications are kind now issued weekly; that is to say, there are not fewer than half a million of cheap sheets published every week. Add to these the very conright and otherwise, and it must be apparent that siderable number of cheap book-publications, copythere is a moral agency at work in this country such as has never been formerly known, except in the most feeble form. Is it not now, indeed, for the first time, that the powers of the printing-press have been turned to their right account? And yet, after all, it is highly questionable if anything like full advantage has been taken of the powers of this marvellous engine. There is no default in its own mechanism, but the mechanism for the diffusion of its productions is still far from being what is desirable. The system of bookselling in this country has not undergone an improvement at all comparable to that which we have seen in the

+ Information for the People, 2 vols. royal 8vo. Cyclopædia of English Literature, 2 vols. royal 8vo. § Miscellany of Useful and Entertaining Tracts, appear-paper-making and typographical departments. No ing in weekly numbers at a penny and halfpenny each. fault is it in the members of that excellent frater

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