rington, "although I believe some of my ancestors were natives of this county."

The inquisitive mind of the quondam timber merchant suffered a slight disappointment on hearing this reply, for he had made sure, with himself, that he would soon find out the connections of his companion, especially if it was true that he was a man of such vast wealth as the fertile imagination of Reuben had pictured him to be.

On their way to Treadunder, they had to pass the gates of Willowbranch; and, taking a near cut through a portion of the grounds of that mansion, they ascended a gentle knoll which commanded an extensive view of the surrounding country. The eyes of Dorrington, however, were most interested in the stately building which lay before him, and in which Adela, the dearest object of his heart's desire, was at that very moment preparing her toilette to take a quiet drive in the carriage with her father. Had our hero known this, how long would he have lingered upon that knoll, trusting to some propitious chance to give him but a glimpse of her garment; how, as it was, did

he find innumerable ob

to

he

jects to attract his attention and delay his departure from the spot, whilst his eyes, by stolen glances, were ever reverting to Willowbranch. And how did the cunning curiosity of the Naturalist watch him on this occasion, unknown Dorrington, that might draw some expressive confirmation of the truth of Reuben's intimations regarding the direction of his affections. Unable, however, to discover the emotions of our hero through the index of his countenance, he took the bold step of at once descanting on the character of the proprietor of Willowbranch, by which he fancied his ingenuity would demonstrate the sentiments of Dorrington, provided there was any

prospective relationship contemplated in that quarter. "Ah!" said he, catching the eyes of Dorrington scrutinizing the windows of the mansion, "you are looking at Willowbranch, Mr. Ainslic. Sec, yonder is Joseph Greenblades, that was with us last night; I wonder how his head is this morning. It was a terrific crack he got; but he was a little in drink, which is not very often the case, and made some foolish speeches, which, I know he's sorry enough for this day. But what will he have said to the 'Maister,' as he calls him. I dare say he's served him up his adventures before this time, garnished with all sorts of flowers and vegetables. There is one of my Runts, I declare!" (To be continued in our next.)

TH

GALILEO.

HIS eminent astronomer was the contemporary of Kepler, and was born in Florence in 1564. Passing over the years of his boyhood we come to 1609, when he was at Padua, where he constructed his telescope which enabled man for the first time to view the heavens magnified. Galileo then commenced his important discoveries. Innumerable fixed stars which had never before been visible, now met his wondering gaze, whilst he found that the moon's surface like the earth was opaque. When he directed his

quired him to recant his errors. The promises of the man were not equal to the convictions of the astronomer. He knelt down before them, and at their dictation, "abjured, execrated, and detested the absurdity, error, and heresy of the earth's motion." As he rose from his knees, it has been said he muttered; "It moves notwithstanding." The history of human knowledge, it must be allowed, contains few greater names than that of Galileo; and, notwithstanding the great discoveries which have since been made in the sublime science he successfully pursued, we must never forget that he was one of the first and greatest pioneers in its regions.

mission. A greater dissector of the human heart than Rochefoucault, says, that conscience maketh cowards of us all, and this it is that will not allow us to forget, even if we would, those things which we may have done, and which we ought not to have done. The scope of Rochefoucault's | reflection, however, is perhaps not intended to refer to those deeds, for the punishment of which the criminal code has been framed, and which the social condition of every civilized community condemns. But, however this may be, the reflection is still more superficial than true. So much depends on the temperament as well as the mental organism of a man, in viewing an act committed as a crime or not, that where one would have something to forget, another would have nothing. This reflection, then, cannot be admitted as of much value when tried by the test of a little reasoning, so necessary to be applied to the sentiments of men whom we have been taught to consider as great authorities.

"Gravity is a mysterious carriage of the body invented to cover the defects of the mind."

Coleridge relates that he was once at dinner in company with a man who listened to him and said nothing for a long time, but nodded his head and made him believe that he was intelligent. At length towards the end of the dinner, some apple puddings were placed on the table, and the man no sooner saw them, than he burst forth with "Them's the jockies for me!" which, of course, discovered to poor Coleridge his mistake.

The gravity of this man is very likely to have been assumed, if not from deference to the company in which he found himself, perhaps from the intelligent conviction that he was as far removed from a due appreciation of the fancies of the poet-philosopher, as the distance between the poles. But to set it down as a maxim, that " Gravity is a mysterious carriage of the body invented to cover the defects of the mind," we conceive to be a sophism. Where the mind is defective, and where gravity, in such instances, exists, it is a natural consequence and not an invention. It is often the very sign by which the defect is indicated, although not always. Poets, philosophers, and even comedians, are frequently men of grave exteriors. Dante, Locke, and Liston were all men singularly grave, and whatever were their mental conditions, mankind will scarcely agree in considering them of the defective kind.

There is nothing, however, easier to do than to find fault with the sentiments of another, and nothing is more distasteful to us, or less in harmony with our natural disposition, were it not that we have a beneficial object in view in making these remarks. That object is simply to teach our more youthful readers the necessity of examining, for themselves, whatever reflection, maxim, sentiment, or opinion may be submitted to them. Taking things for granted, because this or that man spoke or wrote them, is such a common exemplification of the weakness of the human mind, that its exposition may be regarded as a necessity imposed upon us in these times of action rather than of thought. The merely naming it, then, may be enough to guard our youthful readers against it. Let them always remember that it is the prerogative of man to think and to reason, and he who does these in the highest degree to the exaltation of virtue and the promotion of happiness, approaches the nearest to the human idea of perfection.

With this admonition, let us return to the pages of the

French Maximist and see if he has not bequeathed us some things to justify the sunshine of fame in which his memory

basks.

"Weak people are incapable of sincerity.”

"Weakness is more opposite to virtue than is vice itself."
"Hypocrisy is the homage that vice pays to virtue."

The last of these is the finest as a sentiment, although they are all equally true. Who ever found, or ever expected to find sincerity in a weak character; and what prudence in our conduct ought this maxim to teach us, and charity towards the weak in whom we may have confided to our own

betrayal. Although an incapacity for sincerity be a characteristic of the weak, however, let us not, for a moment, suppose that insincerity may not, in some instances, be a characteristic of the strong. Machiavelian doctrines have long been adopted in the counsels of cabinets, and the strength of the terrible Iago consists in his being an embodiment of insincerity. It would, however, have been as easy for such a character as he, to have been sincere, for what he did was stimulated by the power of his malice, and was not the natural consequence of mental imbecility. The weak character is often insincere almost involuntarily. He is in fact an object of pity, and should, where he is conscious of his infirmity, adopt, as far as he can, the resolution of lago at the close of his career, and from henceforth speak as little as possible.

to

The fact of weakness being more opposite to virtue than vice itself, has been illustrated in many of the most celebrated characters. Amongst all classes and conditions we find them. Henry the fifth; Oliver Cromwell; Colonel Gardiner; John Bunyan, and many more, show how frequently men of gay and dissolute lives, with strong natures, turn virtuous pursuits. There is, perhaps, no character in which modern times is so prolific as this, since the rise of temper ance societies amongst us. It is, we believe, an acknowledged fact, that many of the sincerest supporters of these, were the most degraded of drunkards.

Virtue is so pure and so exalted in itself, that vice cannot breathe in its presence without feeling rebuked, however hypocrisy may mask its deformity. This is a subject upon which there has been so much commentary that it needs no extension from us. The maxim, however, is so well delivered that it deserves to be carried in the mind, as a wise safeguard to be brought to memory whenever vice threatens to assail us.

Although these maxims are as so many self-evident propositions, there are others that evince a refinement of observation and profundity of reflection, sufficient to account for the fame of the philosophical Frenchman. Amongst these we may mention;

"It is more dishonourable to distrust a friend than to be deceived by him."

"Affected simplicity is refined imposture." "Perfect valour consists in doing without witnesses, all we should be capable of doing before the whole world."

"We take less pains to be happy than to appear so." "Self-love is more artful than the most artful of men." "We often forgive those who tire us, but cannot forgive those whom we tire."

"Man's chief wisdom consists in knowing his follies."

Such are a few in which there is not only an evidence of enlightened observation, but of deep philosophy. The reflection and the reasoning which are sometimes necessary to the elaboration of a true and comprehensive maxim, are far greater than is usually supposed, when its wisdom is found conveyed in a few words. The maxim that tells us that "self-love is more artful than the most artful of men," could only be produced after an enlarged observation of the ways of mankind and a close examination of the emotions which guide or govern one's own conduct. A proverb or a maxim, then, which conveys an eternal truth, is by no means a slight bequest to leave to posterity. Indeed we view it in the light of a jewel beyond price, because it can be worn in the forehead of everyone. Thales, the founder of the Ionic

philosophy, was the first who merited the glorious title of Sage. He bequeathed us, among others, that beautiful maxim, KNOW THYSELF, which was afterwards engraved in letters of gold and consecrated in the temple of Apollo. He considered the knowledge embodied in these two simple words, as the most complex and difficult to be attained, and as there is nothing perhaps of which we are generally more ignorant than of ourselves, we commend the study of themselves to our youthful readers, assured that it will amply repay them long before old age has succeeded the years they may now enjoy, and before action, in their cases, has given place to the period of reflection and thought.

CREON.

CONS

THE ORPHAN WORKING SCHOOL. YONSIDERING every effort or movement that has for its object a benevolent end as deserving of the widest circulation, and the greatest encouragement, we are particularly gratified by seeing that, Her Most Gracious Majesty the Queen has been pleased to express her Royal approval of the charity, known as the Orphan Working School, Haverstock Hill, by presenting to its funds the munificent sum of Two Hundred and Fifty Guineas for the purchase of a Nomination for Life, and will, therefore, always have one child in the school." Gratifying as this is to all whose hearts are influenced by charitable inpulses, the gratification is increased by the knowledge of the fact that, within these few days, her Majesty has given a further testimony of her Royal approval of the design and labours of this Institution, in presenting a sum similar to the above on behalf of the Prince of Wales, in order that he may enjoy the like prerogative. An Institution, then, so attractive of the Royal attention deserves a sketch at our hands, especially as it has merits in itself of the noblest kind.

THE ORPHAN WORKING SCHOOL was commenced at a small house in Hoxton, in the year 1758, for the reception of Twenty poor orphan and destitute Boys, and was one of the earliest Institutions of the kind in the kingdom. Twenty Girls were afterwards admitted, making a total of Forty Children; this number gradually increased, until two other houses were full, which obliged the Committee to seek larger premises. Land was purchased in the City Road (then a suburb of London), where the School building was erected in 1775, which was occupied until 1847.

The Premises in the City Road were intended for Thirtyfive Boys and Thirty-five Girls: but in 1846 that number had increased to One Hundred and Thirty-nine. In anticipation of an enlarged income it was determined to erect a new building, where Two Hundred and Forty Children could be accommodated. Haverstock Hill was the spot selected. To this locality the children were removed in 1847. The One Hundred and Thirty-nine at that period have now become Two Hundred and Seventy, and will be further increased as the Committee may be encouraged by public support. For the purpose of still further extending the usefulness of the charity we see that the Committee have under consideration a proposal for enlarging their present building, so as to enable it to accommodate four hundred children. To ac

complish this, and to provide for the future maintenance of so many, at least £20,000 will be necessary; and, as this sum is trifling when compared with the object in view, we have not the slightest doubt of the Committee receiving a support more than sufficient to enable them to carry out their laudable desires. The appropriate donation on behalf of the Prince of Wales may be taken as an omen of success, that will influence others to follow the royal example. When we reflect upon all the objects which the Charity achieves we think that it cannot be otherwise than crowned with success in every thing it undertakes. When we reflect that children are admitted between seven and eleven years of age, that boys remain in the School until they are fourteen, when they are placed out as apprentices, if suitable situations offer, with an outfit of the value of five pounds; nearly all the girls remain until they are fifteen, and are trained for domestic service, that when they leave the School situations are usually provided for them, that cach girl has an outfit of the value of three guineas, that during the seven following years after they leave the School, and to encourage them to persevere in good conduct, the old scholars are rewarded with sums varying from five shillings to one guinea, on producing satisfactory testimonials from their employers, and receive besides excellent living, education, and accommodation, the claims of the Charity are so extensive that it must command a large amount of sympathy. Besides, we must not forget to mention the universality of its character: it is no local charity.

The children under its care are from almost every county in England. Some of them are the orphans of missionaries, ministers, city and home missionaries, deacons of churches, superintendents of sunday schools, and other persons, well known for their piety and useful position in society, so that its claims are of far greater extent than are those of such charities as are confined merely to a certain social cause or to the bounds of a certain district.

Our accompanying portrait recalls the memory of Samuel Gurney, Esq. one of the most sincere and ardent patrons of the Orphan Institution. On referring to the Report to the general list of Governors for 1853 we find the following testimony to the benevolent and zealous interest he took in the promotion of its objects :

"Your Board is much indebted to Samuel Gurney, Esq., one of the Vice-Presidents, for the admirable manner in which he presided at the Annual Examination of the children

interest shown by him, as the prosperity of this Institution demonstrated, not only by the admirable manner in which he presided at the Annual Examination of the children, but also by his liberal donation of £50 for the general objects of the Charity, and still more by the wise counsel given by him to the old scholars upon presenting them with their rewards, and also by the handsome present of a copy of the Memoirs of Sir T. F. Buxton, Bart. to each of them, and the welcome gratuity to the children of the School. It should

Such is the origin and progress of a Charity which has, up to this time, admitted into its School no fewer than one thousand seven hundred and thirty-one poor children. The amount of moral good it has performed in this is incalculable. All these orphans have been given to the world inspired with a religious education, especially marked by its suitableness for the situations they were contemplated as likely to fill in life. Most of them have been enabled to earn a comfortable livelihood, whilst some have risen to in