flock o' pigeons. And what a man war that Robert Newton! Eh! what a tongue he had! Ivery word that he said went like a shot to my heart. He told us what sinful creaturs we aw war; and ivery time that he lifted his hand, it war like Moses smiting th' rock i' th' wilderness. Th' watter started out o' my heart, and th' tears run down my cheeks; and he soon seed that, and what does he, but fixes his eyes on me, and pointing to me, shouts out— There! that woman is touched! She is reached! If she stands to what she has got, salvation is come to her!' and then one and another cried out Christ Jesus grant it! Amen! Amen!' "Well, I was niver in such a takking in my life. I was all of a tremble and a quake, and th' lights and iverything spun round wi' me. As we went home, th' young woman asked me how I liked it? 6 ́ Oh,' said I, ‘I niver was so bad and niver so well in all my days. Oh! what a sinner I've bin! Oh! what must I do to be saved?' "Thank God! thank God!' said th' young woman. 'You are in the right way now, and if you only go on it will be a blessed day for you, and for me too, you came to the chapel.' And now, aw my comfort 's i' religion. I go regularly to chapel. I'm in a class, and all the society is very kind to me. But dunna think that I've had nothing but swimming work of it. No, the divel came after me like a roaring lion,-and oh! what a nasty divel it is! "One day a young woman brought a gown-piece for me to make up. It was a very fine, rich, valuable gown-piece indeed ; and when I come to measure it, then I found that there was a yard and a half of the stuff too much; and such good stuff too! 6 “Tak it! tak it!' says the divel; they 'll niver know!' "But the Lord said in my heart, Dunna tak it, woman, it's none o' thine !' "Tak it!' again says the divel. "Let it alone! says the Lord. "Oh! what a day I had on't; till at last I ups and rolls the piece together, and off to th' young woman, and flinging it down, says There! there's that too much!' Away Away I goes back, thinking then what gladness I should have. But I was mistaken. The divel seemed like a raging going-fire. He war at me aw the way home. He seemed to drive me up 'th' street like a great wind. 'Well,' said he, and what better art thou now? any fuller, or any fatter; any richer or any better?' Art ta Oh! what a nasty divel it is! Well, well, I mun bear my trials and my temptations, I reckon, like other folks; and learn not to set my heart too much on the things of this world. And that 's what that dirty rogue of a husband o' mine is always telling me; and it's true, but I know why he tells me that,-it's because he wants to find th' owd stocking-full o' guineas. But I'll tak precious good eare that he doesna. Oh! what a dirty rogue he 's bin to me,— he has driven me to God!" With this the old dame turned to march out, nodding significantly to my friend, but stopping suddenly, she looked at the two halfpenny-worths of red ochre which she held in her hands, and said, as to herself,- -"Let me see, which is which? Aye, this is for mysen, it's the biggest-tother 's for a necbor!" THE FATE OF CITIES. Reflections on coming in sight of "New Portland Town," on the Finchley Road, Nov. 9th, 1845. I. THE throbbings of the City's plethoric heart II. So on the Indian wild the Banian tree Spreads vast its bowery branches; which bend down III. Man shall be social ever: civil states, Shall they for ever rise and fall? can Time Infrangible?-must national suns climb To noon-tide greatness but to slope thro' crime IV. Creation's scheme is progress: citied states Truth's phoenix soaring from their ashes caught, Poised on her moveless wings,-oh, England! fear for nought. THE ENGLISHMAN IN PRUSSIA.-No. VI. DOMESTICITIES-MANNERS-MORALS-AMUSEMENTS GENERAL OBSERVATIONS-CONCLUSION. GERMAN houses are generally built upon the principle of a thorough draught—that is, of obtaining, not avoiding, a thorough draught. Opposite a door, window, passage, or gate-way, there is usually another door, window, passage, or gate-way; and by these means you continually find yourself in the centre of a strong current of air. It does not matter in the warm seasons of the year; but in the winter or other cold windy months, and more particularly in Rhenish Prussia, it is dreadful. In addition to this, the doors and windows do not fit close, so that you may sit and roast your body close to your stove, with a draught cutting your ankles off, from a long gap underneath the door, and another draught cutting your throat from the sides and chinks of the window-frame. We have sat at dinner on a cold windy day in winter, in a room like an oven, but with our feet as cold as ice, from the wind of a great stone hall below, that had a wide staircase opposite the front door (continually opening), the head of which staircase was directly facing the diningroom door, the said door not touching the floor by at least half an inch all along. As there are no carpets or other impediments to the wind, we had it "fresh and fresh" as any of the doors below leading to street or garden were opened, to say nothing of open windows. Then, the method of warming the rooms in winter by the German stove, is detestable. You are either made hot to suffocation, the horrid thing becoming red-hot, or it does not give out half enough heat, and is often the only warm thing in the room. If the stove was alight and warm, we were never able to convince any host or hostess of any house, public or private, that this fact was not the principal consideration, and that it was the person occupying the room who ought chiefly to be considered— it was whether he was warm or cold, that was the point; the stove being warm was, in itself, little or nothing to the purposethe stove was not lit to warm itself only. It was of no use ;-they smiled, or took it amiss, and went away, saying, "Englanders were an original people!" Sometimes the stoves are lit by an aperture from the outside of the room, so that the regulation of the temperature being thus totally out of your hands, they either freeze you, or regularly bake you, just as the case may happen; and you have no remedy but to run out of the room. In the comforts and luxuries of social life, Germany is a hundred years behind England. We should here observe that Germany is a nation of philosophers who do not understand ventilation. So much has habit the power to deaden perception, mental as well as bodily, that even men of science are confused, or do not distinguish the facts of the case. We have complained to German physicians of the dreadful oven which our apartment had become by means of the stove getting red-hot, and remarked that we could not set open a door or window, as the wind would rush coldly in, and hence there ought to be some method of ventilation adopted in their rooms; but the gentlemen aforesaid have deliberately pointed to the iron flue of the stove, observing that there was the ventilation! Dr. Arnott ought to go to Germany, and deliver a lecture on his stove at all the principal towns. While upon the subject of domestic economy, we have a few more uncomfortable observations to make. The beds are all too short. A short man can scarcely lie quite straight without his feet pressing against the foot-board. A tall man must either lie hunched up nose-and-knees, or his naked feet and ankles must stick out over the wooden barrier at the bed's foot, or else (as the pillows are generally higher than the head-board) his head must hang over the pillows, and dangle towards the floor,—an attitude in which, to our certain knowledge, several English travellers have awoke in the morning, to their momentary confusion and stultified astonishment. In winter-and this is the trying period-(few of our tourists know anything about the winter) then comes a fresh discomfort. In the first place, the blankets are not made to "tuck in ;" they are much too narrow; the part tucked in would be considered as wasted. For of what use is the part tucked in? they would ask. This would be foolishly extravagant; the blankets therefore are properly and wisely of the same width as the bed. The consequence is that half a dozen times in the night you are awoke by the cold coming in at one side or the other; in your efforts to repair the opening you make an opening at the other side, and by the morning your bed-clothes are huddled round you in no shape at all, and with no good success. So much for blankets; but very often your only bed-clothes is a sheet with a stuffed bag, in fact a small feather-bed laid over it. Now this puffed bag, which covers you, is just the width of the bed, or something less, and little more than two-thirds of its length; and here is a scene of misery! You must inevitably lie in the shape of a frog, or your neck and shoulders would be quite uncovered, except by the mere sheet. A quarter of an hour of this, and you are sure to be in a vapour bath, the feather-bag is so excessively hot; but every time you turn from one side to the other, the narrow fat covering jumps up somewhere, and lets in the freezing air of your wintry chamber. If you turn at all hastily, you raise the thing on both sides, and a thorough draught instantly passes through your hot vapour bed, and astonishes your poor legs and back. Sometimes in the night, and in the darkness, you have 66 a scene "with your feather bag, which can scarcely be described. You awake with a frozen limb, or side, or shoulder-endeavour to adjust the bag and cover yourself properly-find you have got the thing broad-ways over you instead of long-ways-try to put it right -it gets corner-ways-then no-how-changes its shape so as utterly to baffle and confuse you in the dark, till you do not know, and find it impossible to discover, whether you are in a wrong position in your bed or have got the bag wrong;—you are in a fever-it now gets hotter than ever, and less in size-becomes elastic, perverse, alive has a will of its own-and finally slips off upon the floor, either rolling underneath the bedstead, or getting itself involved with legs of chairs, so that you are compelled to get out in the frightfully cold air and grope about in the |