rich a fertilizer should be continually wasted. It has been calculated that the urine of 10,000 persons would supply all the manure required for "a farm of 1,500 acres, yielding a return of 4,500 quarters of corn, or an equivalent produce of other crops." In Flanders the urine of the cow is collected and saved, and realizes about 21. a year. The Chinese, too, preserve all the urine, both of men and animals. If tanks and receptacles were constructed in this metropolis alone, an immense quantity might be collected, and an enormous revenue obtained. The amount of urine voided in a year by each man averages about 1,000 lbs., from which, recollect, we can obtain 68 lbs. of solid matter of the richest quality, so rich, in fact, that it could not be used for manure alone, but would have to be combined with gypsum or composition of some kind. Blood is employed sometimes as a manure; rarely, however, in its separate state, but as it comes from the sugar refineries, mixed with lime and animal charcoal. Horn, hair, and wool, are sometimes used. In China, where every animal product is economized and preserved, the very hair shaved every ten days from the head is collected and sold as a valuable manure. Bones are valuable, because they contain not only the usual constituents of animal organic matters, but also numerous earthy substances, which are necessary ingredients in good soils, more especially the phosphates of lime, and magnesia, with soda, and common salt. The value of animal manures is generally measured by the amount of nitrogen they contain, indicated by the quantity of ammonia evolved; and if we compare the fertilizing effects of animal matters with some vegetable manure, such as farmyard compost, as a standard, we find that to do the same good as 100 lbs. of that material, we require of Cow-dungHorse-dung Cows' urine Horses' urine 125 lbs. 73 91 16 3 Horn shavings Woollen rags From this statement we learn that 3 lbs. of feathers will do as much, as a fertilizer, as 100 lbs. of farmyard compost. We must not forget, however, that some of these substances act but slowly as manures, on account of their tardy decomposition. Such is the case with feathers, woollen rags, &c., which, although ranking high in the scale, would confer no benefit upon the land perhaps for weeks, or even months. CHRISTMAS MORNING. BY MR C. DICKENS. THEY stood in the city streets on Christmas morning, where (for the weather was severe) the people made a rough, but brisk and not unpleasant kind of music, in scraping the snow from the pavement in front of their dwellings, and from the tops of their houses: whence it was mad delight to the boys to see it come plumping down into the road below, and splitting into artificial little snowstorms. The house fronts looked black enough, and the windows blacker, contrasting with the smooth white sheet of snow upon the roofs, and with the dirtier snow upon the ground; which last deposit had been ploughed up in deep furrows by the heavy wheels of carts and waggons; furrows that crossed and re-crossed each other hundreds of times where the great streets branched off, and made intricate channels, hard to trace, in the thick yellow mud and icy water. The sky was gloomy, and the shortest streets were choked up with a dingy mist, half thawed, half frozen, whose heavier particles descended in a shower of sooty atoms, as if all the chimneys in Great Britain had, by one consent, caught fire, and were blazing away to their dear hearts' content. There was nothing very cheerful in the climate or the town, and yet there was an air of cheerfulness abroad that the clearest summer air and brightest summer sun might have endeavoured to diffuse in vain. For the people who were shovelling away on the housetops were jovial and full of glee; calling out to one another from the parapets, and now and then exchanging a facetious snowball-better-natured missile far than many a wordy jest - laughing heartily if it went right, and not less heartily if it went wrong. The poulterers' shops were still half open, and the fruiterers' were radiant in their glory. There were great, round, pot-bellied baskets of chestnuts, shaped like the waistcoats of jolly old gentlemen, lolling at the doors, and tumbling out into the street in their apoplectic opulence. There were ruddy, brown-faced, broad-girthed Spanish onions, shining in the fatness of their growth like Spanish friars; and winking from their shelves in wanton slyness at the girls as they went by, and glanced demurely at the hung-up mistletoe. There were pears and apples, clustered high in blooming pyramids; there were bunches of grapes, made, in the shopkeepers' benevolence, to dangle from conspicuous hooks, that people's mouths might water gratis as they passed; there were piles of filberts, mossy and brown, recalling, in their fragrance, ancient walks among the woods, and pleasant shufflings, ankle deep, through withered leaves; there were Norfolk biffins, squab and swarthy, setting off the yellow of the oranges and lemons, and, in the great compactness of their juicy persons, urgently entreating and beseeching to be carried home in paper bags, and eaten after dinner. The very gold and silver fish, set forth among these choice fruits in a bowl, though members of a dull and stagnantblooded race, appeared to know that there was something going on; and, to a fish, went gasping round and round their little world in slow and passionless excitement. The grocers'! oh, the grocers' nearly closed, with perhaps two shutters down, or one; but through those gaps such glimpses! It was not alone that the scales descending on the counter made a merry sound, or that the twine and roller parted company so briskly, or that the canisters were rattled up and down like juggling tricks, or even that the blended scents of tea and coffee were so grateful to the nose, or even that the raisins were so plentiful and rare, the almonds so extremely white, the sticks of cinnamon so long and straight, the other spices so delicious, the candied fruits so caked and spotted with molten sugar, as to make the coldest lookers-on feel faint, and subsequently bilious. Nor was it that the figs were moist and pulpy, or that the French plums blushed in modest tartness from their highly-decorated boxes, or that everything was good to eat, and in its Christmas dress: but the customers were all so hurried and so eager in the hopeful promise of the day, that they tumbled up against each other at the door, clashing their wicker baskets wildly, and left their purchases upon the counter, and came running back to fetch them, and committed hundreds of the like mistakes in the best humour possible; while the grocer and his people were so frank and fresh, that the polished hearts with which they fastened their aprons behind might have been their own, worn outside for general inspection, and for Christmas daws to peck at, if they chose. ALMANACK FOR 1844. WE give the subjoined tabular view of the months, weeks, and days arranged for the coming year, in the hope that it will be found useful for some of the more important purposes of a diary, while it is so compendious as to be readily transferred to a pocket-book, if desirable. Its use will be at once apparent : for instance, the 1st of January falls on a Monday; hence the table not only presents in the column under that head the date of every Monday in that and succeeding months, but also at one glance, in other columns, the figures corresponding with every day in the year : Arms. Quarterly; first, sa., a fesse, between three lambs, passant, ar., for Lambton; second, ar., a fesse, gu., between three popinjays, vert, collared, of the second, for Lumley; third, ar., an inescutcheon, sa., within an orle of cinquefoils, gu., for D'Arcy. Crest. A ram's head cabossed, ar., attired sa. Supporters. Two lions, the dexter, gu., the sinister, az., each ducally gorged and supporting a staff, or, therefrom banners of the second, the dexter banner charged with a cross, patonce, and the sinister with a lion, passant, guardant, of the third. Motto. "Le jour viendra." "The day will come." THE NOBLE HOUSE OF DURHAM. THE Lambtons are an ancient family in the county of Durham, as the regular pedigree goes back to the twelfth century, and charters and other evidence prove them to have been established there shortly after the Norman conquest. Lambton, Esq., who succeeded to the estates of his brother William, and became owner of Lambton Castle. He was a majorgeneral in the army, colonel of the 68th foot, and represented Durham in six parliaments. In September, 1763, General Lambton married Susan, daughter of Thomas, Earl of Strathmore. His eldest son, William Henry, on his death, in 1794, succeeded him. The last-named gentleman married, in June, 1791, Anne Barbara Frances, daughter of George Bussey, fourth Earl of Jersey. By her he had a family of three sons and one daughter. William Henry died November 30, 1797, and his widow, who afterwards married the Hon. Charles W. Wyndham, deceased in 1832. Robert de Lambton, feudal lord of Lambton Castle, died in 1350. From him descended, the eighth in succession, John Lambton, Esq., who was born in 1505. He married Agnes, daughter and co-heir of Roger Lumley, Esq., of Ludworth, niece of Richard, Lord Lumley, and great-grand-daughter of King Edward IV, through his natural daughter, Elizabeth Plantagenet, wife of Thomas Lumley, eldest son of General Lord Lumley. Mr LambHis eldest son, John George ton died in 1582, and was succeeded by his Lambton, Esq., the late peer, succeeded eldest son, Robert Lambton, Esq., of him. He was born April 12, 1792, and Lambton, who married Frances, the was many years Member of Parliament for daughter of Sir Ralph Eure, Kt., sister of the county of Durham, and was elevated to William, Lord Eure, and a descendant of Lionel, Duke of Clarence, second son of Edward III. He died in 1583, and was succeeded by his son, Ralph Lambton, Esq., who, in 1593, was succeeded by William Lambton, Esq., of Lambton, his son, who was a colonel of infantry in the service of Charles I, and received the honour of knighthood in 1641. He fell in the battle of Marston Moor, July 2, 1644, and was succeeded in his estates and title by his son, Henry Lambton, Esq. He had several children; but Ralph, the youngest, is named as the "continuator of the line," who, in 1696, married Dorothy, daughter and co-heir of John Hedworth, Esq., of Harraton heir general and representative of the family of D'Arcy, of Harraton and Herrington. On his decease, in 1717, he was succeeded by his youngest son, John the Peerage, as Baron Durham, January 29, 1828, and advanced to the Viscounty of Lambton and Earldom of Durham, March 15, 1833. His lordship served his country as Ambassador at the Court of St Petersburg, and was Lord Privy Seal from 1830 to 1833, and subsequently Governor-General of North America. He was also G. C. B. Knight of the four orders of St Andrew, St Alexander Newsky, St Anne, and the White Eagle of Russia; as also of Leopold of Belgium, and the Saviour of Greece; a Privy Counsellor and High Steward of Hull. He married, first, in January, 1812, Miss Harriet Cholmondley, by whom he had three daughters; and, second, December 9, 1816, Louisa Elizabeth, daughter of Charles, Earl Grey, by whom he had issue, Charles William, born January 16, 1818, George Frederick, Mary Louisa, Emily Augusta, and Alice Anne Caroline. He died in 1840, and his firstnamed son having preceded him to the grave, he was succeeded by his second, George Frederick D'Arcy Lambton, the present peer, who was born September 5, 1828. LAURENCE STARK.-A FAMILY PICTURE. THE above is the title of a work well known to scholars, by Engel, an admired German writer. It has recently been translated and published in the Duchy of Baden. The Grand Duke, who is well acquainted with our language, and a patron of English literature, has permitted it to be dedicated to him; and, as was mentioned some weeks back, granted the translator a private audience, and received him most graciously. To English novel readers 'Laurence Stark' may appear to be rather too quiet, but The Family Picture' presents many graceful and affecting touches, with graphic sketches of German life. It opens thus: Mr Laurence Stark was regarded in all H****, where he lived, as a very whimsical, but also a very excellent old man. His dress and his conduct announced at the first glance the old German simplicity of his character. His clothes were always of one uniform colour, grey or brownish, but of superfine cloth; on his head was a little bob-wig, and on occasions a wellpowdered periwig; with his little hat he came twice out of the fashion, and twice into it again; the stockings were carefully rolled up over the knee; and the stronglysoled shoes, on which shone a pair of very small, but very brightly polished buckles, were cut off square in front. He was no friend to superfluous linen before the bosom and over the hands; his greatest state was a fine laced neckerchief. "The faults, of which this excellent man had not a few, and which were often very annoying to those who were obliged to live with him, were so entwined with his best qualities, that it appeared as though neither could exist without the other. Being really wiser than almost all those with whom he had to do, he had become very arbitrary and positive; feeling that no one could justly reproach him with his sentiments and actions, he was towards others a very free, often very troublesome censor; and because, although his customary goodnature would not suffer him to be greatly excited by any fault, he was unable to pass over one unnoticed, he had become very ironical and bantering. "In pecuniary matters, things went remarkably well with him; for, during the long, long years, in which he had traded and kept house, he had followed the simple maxim: that, in order to become rich, the expenditure must be less than the receipts. As his beginning was but small, and he was indebted for his fortune to his own industry and frugality, he had at first helped himself but very sparingly; but even afterwards, when he had long since earned the first twenty thousand, of which he was accustomed to say, that it had proved sourer to him than all his subsequent wealth, the original spirit of economy still reigned predominant in his house; and this was the principal cause of the constant increase of his fortune. "Of Mr Stark's many children, only two survived: a son who, after his father's example, had devoted himself to trade; and a daughter. The latter was married to one of the most noted physicians of the place, Dr Herbst: a man possessed of no less skill in producing than in preserving life. He had quite a houseful of youngsters, and this circumstance made the daughter the favourite of the old man, who was a great friend to children. As the son-inlaw lived not far from the church which Mr Stark was in the habit of visiting, it was agreed that he should dine with his daughter's husband every Sunday: his piety, indeed, had willingly sometimes have dispensed with the church, if his grandfatherly love could only have dispensed with the sight of so many dear grandsons and daughters. It always opened his heart, when, on entering the house, the little swarm sprang shouting towards him, seized his hands and coattails, and coaxed the little presents from him, which he had for them in his pockets. During grace, the eyes of the little ones would sometimes wander about, and then he would softly whisper to them to pay attention; but the one who was the least attentive was himself; for his whole heart was, where his eyes were, with his grandchildren. "Mr Stark was proportionately dissatisfied with his son. On the one hand, he was too extravagant, spending too much on dress, in riding and driving; but particularly as he went too frequently to the cafés, and into the company of gamesters. On the other hand, it vexed Mr Stark that his son, as a merchant, had so little of an adventurous spirit, and, as a man, too little of the beneficence and generosity of his own character. He regarded him as something between a miser and a spendthrift; two qualities which Mr Stark equally detested. He was himself a true economist, who, by saving and hoarding up, had not so much the money as the great benefits which might be effected by money in view. Where he perceived no object, there he was certain not to give a fraction; but where the aim appeared worthy of the sacrifice, he gave whole hundreds in the coolest manner in the world. But that which vexed him most with his son, was the fact that, in his thirtieth year, the latter still remained unmarried, and that, judging by appearances, he would increase the number of old bachelors. The father would not persuade the son to any marriage, the son would not conclude any marriage without the father's consent; and both were in taste and way of thinking far too different for their choice or wish ever to agree." The father is a benevolent oddity; differences occur between him and a worthy but impracticable son, who becomes attached to Madame Lyk, an amiable widow, who has two children. On certain conditions, after serious estrangements and a variety of incidents, the senior consents to be reconciled. A portion of the scene which ensues is subjoined: "But why do you not mention one of the chief conditions, your marriage. Have you made no choice yet?' "With the customary shyness, with which questions of this description are usually answered, the son said I have.' "Do I know her you love?' "With still greater shyness he brought forth the words-Only lately.' But how fluently did he speak, as he began to praise the virtues of his lady, and to abuse the malice of certain wretches who discharged their spiteful, venomous darts even at the purest, most unspotted virtue. "This preface,' said the old man,' might frighten me. May I ask the name of your choice?' "It was of no use that the son pronounced the widow's name, in a very low, modulated voice. He was forced to repeat it all the louder. "She !' said the old man gravely, taking a few turns up and down; the widow ! Is it only information that you are giving me, or "It is the exposition of my profoundest, dearest wish, for which I entreat your kind approbation, your paternal consent.' "Between yourselves, I hope, everything is already arranged. You are agreed?' "How rejoiced was the son now to have followed the advice of his brother-in-law, and to be able to assure his father, without swerving from the truth, that not even the first word of love had been exchanged between him and the widow; not even preliminary, under presupposed consent of the father. "So much the better!' said the old man. 'Then there is nothing to be undone.' "To be undone, my father? Should it, must it be so?' "I see the path this love has taken very clearly. You have acted towards the widow with an honesty, with a generosity, of which your heart convinces you that they contribute to your honour, to your greatest honour. Thus the sight of her has naturally become dear to you, for it reminds you of the best action of your life; but real, profound love, which will last till old age, and indemnify you for all that you must give up and sacrifice on her account. No, my son, I cannot possibly presuppose this here; it's impossible!' "Wherefore impossible, my fatherand what should I give up on her account -what should I sacrifice? I see nothing.' "Is the wealth nothing to you, that so many others would bring? The widow herself is without fortune.' "True! but' "Her share of the paltry remnant of Lyk's former fortune is, by our laws, the half. How far do you expect this will reach in covering what I may perhaps be compelled to draw from the business?' "I will retrench, my father. I will retrench the business as far as may be needful, and my household to the very utmost. I will be saving and active in the highest degree.' 66 6 Good! But all this you will ask at last, and I ask now: for whom? For a woman, who is already none of the young. est, and of whose beauty no traces will be left in a few years.' "Is it then her beauty that I look at? God is my witness! I have never compared her with any other. That which moved me, and has won me to her for ever, are her virtues, which have been proved in so many a sorrowful, trying position, and of which I was for months a near and a happy witness.' "The old man walked about again, and was silent. 'She has children,' he then recommenced. "They increase my love for her. They are a pair of angels.' "But angels that have wants. When the little of the father's property that remains for them is exhausted, these children will have called you father, and you will be bound to provide for them as a father.' "That I certainly shall, and shall do it joyfully.' 66 6 Joyfully? What you expend on them will be lost to your own children. Will you foolishly throw away on strange blood what might benefit your own. Tell me, I beg, how can you even imagine such a thing-allow it to take possession of you even for a moment?' "The son knew the father too well not to be exceedingly alarmed. 'You do not speak from your own heart, my father; impossible!' "How do you mean? From whose heart but one's own can one speak?' |