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he, the man to whom Courvoisier had admitted the perfected, for neither Wales nor Scotland was murder—" are there no circumstances against other half Saxonized at that time. Now it numbers parties in connection with this case?" His constant 60,000,000 of human beings, planted upon all the
islands and continents of the earth, and increasing appeals to the Deity, and to the solemn concerns
everywhere by an intense ratio of progression. It of a future state, are absolutely disgusting. He is fást absorbing or displacing all the sluggish professes that he is able to help the jury to a ver- races, or barbarous tribes of men that have occupied dict short of murder, “ without putting their souls the continents of America, Africa, Asia, and the to any hazard.” This they might do “ without islands of the ocean. See it girdling them from hazarding their souls' salvation.” He prays " the year to year with its vigorous plantations. If no Almighty God to guide them to a just conclusion." great physical revolution supervene to check its He supplicates of them caution, seeing an error beings in less than 150 years from the present time
propagation, it will number 800,000,000 of human will "stand against them in condemnation before -all speaking the same language, centred to the the judgment-seat of God.” Now, we will ask a same literature and religion, and exhibiting all its single question here. Could any jury have sup- inherent and inalienable characteristics. posed that the man, who sought thus to sence Thus the population of the earth is fast becoming round and guard their every step, who besought Anglo-Saxonized by blood. But the English lanthem to beware how they violated “the living the blood of that race; it is, if we may speak it rer
is more self-expansive and aggressive than temple which the Lord had made,” was pleading erently, the John the Baptist in the mission of thus on behalf of a confessed felon—of a man who that race, uttering its voice and teaching its words had imbrued his hands in his master's blood ? No, to the scattered tribes and tongues of the earth, in no, it won't do. We can allow a wide margin-every distant wilderness of barbarism. When a a very wide margin-for professional eloquence community begins to speak and read the English -seeing it is all paid for-appeals, invocations, language, it is half Saxonized, even if not a drop adjurations, and all-and, therefore, belongs of
of Anglo-Saxon blood runs in its veins. Ireland
was never colonized from England, like North right to the purchaser—but even the license of the America or Australia ; but nearly the whole of its bar has its limits. When liberty fairly merges 7 or 8 millions already speak the English laninto licentiousness we must say “stop." We guage, which is the preparatory state to being enthink the Examiner deserves well of the commu- tirely absorbed into the Anglo-Saxon race, as one nity in this matter, in having so stoutly done battle of its most vigorous and useful elements. Everyfor a public principle of no small importance.
where the English language is gaining upon the languages of the earth, and preparing those who speak it for this absorption. Í'he young generation
of the East Indies is learning it; and it is probable THE ANGLO-SAXON RACE.
that within 50 years, 25 millions of human beings,
of Asiatic race, will speak the language on that Britain has been frequently denominated the continent. So it is in ihe United States. About mother of nations. Whatever may be her title to 50,000 immigrants from Germany and other counthis appellation, nothing is more evident and true, tries of continental Europe, are arriving in this than the fact that her island has been the elabora- country every year. Perhaps they cannot speak a tory of a most remarkable race, in which nearly all word of English when they first land on our shores; the races that peopled Europe, from the Roman to but in the course of a few years they master the the Norman conquest, were combined. All that is language, to some extent. Their children sit upon vigorous in the Celt, the Saxon, the Scandinavian, the same benches in our common schools with those and the Norman, was absorbed into what we call of native Americans, and become, as they grow up the Anglo-Saxon race; and when the combination and diffuse themselves among the rest of the popuwas completed, on the island of Great Britain a new lation, completely Anglo-Saxonized. world was discovered, as if it were on purpose for Thus the race, by its wonderful self-expansive the irresistible expansion of that mighty race.
power of language and blood, is fast occupying, an illustration of one of its physical qualities, it is and subduing to its genius, all the continents and estimated that its population doubles itself in 35 islands of the earth. The grandson of many a years, whilst that of Germany doubles itself in 76; young man who reads these lines, will probably live of Holland in 100; of Spain in 106; of Italy in to see the day when that race will number its 135; of France in 138 ; of Portugal in 238, and 800,000,000 of human beings. Perhaps they may that of Turkey in 555 years. When, about 250 comprise a hundred nations, or distinct governyears ago, one or two vessels crossed the ocean and ments. Perhaps they may become a grand constelplanted here and there along the coast of North lation and commonwealth of republics, pervaded by America a few germs of that race, its whole popu- the same laws, literature, and religion. Their lation in the Old World did not exceed six mil- unity, harmony, and brotherhood must be deterlions. England, Wales, and Scotland, numbered mined by the relations between Great Britain and fewer inhabitants at that time, than New York, the United States. Their union will be the union Pennsylvania, and Ohio do now. Hardly two cen- of the two worlds. If they discharge their duty to turies and a half have elapsed since that epoch, and each other and to mankind, they must become the now there are at least 25 millions of that race in united heart of the mighty race they represent, North America and its adjacent islands, or a num- feeding its myriad veins with the blood of moral ber exceeding the whole population of Great and political life. Upon the state of their fellowBritain. In 1620, the Anglo-Saxon race numbered ship then, more than upon the union of any two about 6,000,000, and was confined to England, nations on earth, depend the well-being of huWales and Scotland; and the combination, of manity, the peace and progress of the world. which it is the result, was not then more than half
From Burrit:'s Christian Citizen.
From the Spectator. opinions which have heretofore existed as to right POLITICAL ECONOMY AND THE NEEDLEWOMEN. and expediency, and being therefore open to modi
We have too much capital and too many people fication as our knowledge and opinions are develfor our narrow area, says Mr. Sidney Herbert; oped. And in what we now say, we are not critiyou cannot have too much capital, says the Daily cizing, but only stating facts. Filled with the News, where you have hands to employ, and where importance of capital, we have framed our laws the land is crying aloud for more capital, nor in for its protection, more than for the protection of such case too many people. When two proposi- labor. In abolishing old sumptuary laws, usury tions so conflicting are both so true-looking, it laws, and protective duties, we have removed all implies that the reconcilement is to be sought restriction on the accumulation of capital ; towards deeper than either; and so it is in the present capital all our laws are enabling laws even laws instance. The journalist says
having a restrictive shape are meant to be enabling ;
towards those who infringe the profits of capital At a time when three fourths of the land of Eng- the laws are disenabling if not penal-labor is land are but half cultivated, farmers wanting the more restricted and coerced than enabled and supcapital requisite, and landlords obstinately refusing ported. However fixed some portion of the aggreand resisting those sole conditions on which capital can be embarked in cultivation, we are told
that gate capital of the country may be, a large portion there is too much capital.
is “floating,” or in the most readily transferable We can conceive too much capital in a country shape. Theoretical economists are wont to talk where there is a lack of population-where, in of the transfer of labor from any occupation that is fact, there are no arms to employ. But, in a unprofitable; but that transfer proves to be easy country where there is abundance of men and labor only in theory, and we need not the instances of on the one hand, and of food and capital on the the hand-loom weavers, the Paisley people, the other, with as fertile a soil as ever God gave, the ousted railway laborers and civil engineers, or of fault of all these three elements lying idle and unprofitable, and starving by the side of one another, these needlewomen, to make good the fact that must be the fault of the law, the system, and of labor cannot easily effect the transit from a profitthe social organization of the country. For labor less to a profitable employment. Capital can. to make use of materials, and for capital to find | The immediate consequence of the disparity is, them, two things are chiefly required-freedom that in the transfer capital can always preöccupy and intelligence. But the land is not free, whilst the field and exercise all the privileges of preëmpthe classes upon it are utterly unable to reconcile tion; in the competition of labor and capital, capipresent exigencies with old prejudices.
tal ever has the start. Another incident of transIn the actual circumstances of the country, ferable capital is still more serious in its operation “ capital” is partly a natural, partly an artificial on the whole commercial world. From the imperthing, accumulated under the operation of laws fect state of mutual understanding in commercial and usages which have perhaps regarded it too affairs, it often happens that commercial activity much as an absolute good. In its actual shape, goes into a wrong course, or goes much too far in the abundance of capital is attended by incidents a course originally right; the immense mass of the reverse of felicitous. In the lax language of disposable capital is thrown into the erroneous political economy, capital is accumulated labor ; it movement, imparts to it a correspondingly exagis rather the accumulated product of labor. The gerated momentum, and increases the disastrous land is the great source of all wealth ; labor is the consequences of the error. The railway mania machine for its extraction ; capital is that surplus forms an immediate and pregnant instance. Not product which can be stored, and which, in the only is the absolute loss augmented by the amount shape of materials, tools, or subsistence, facilitates of capital embarked, but the misdirected commerthe more profitable application of labor. In our cial enterprise goes much more wrong than it artificial state of society, capital exists, not only in would otherwise do. In a country where the land that direct form, but also in the indirect form of is strictly appropriated and absolutely subject to representative wealth—money and credit—which individual will, and where the amount of disposacan by the usage of commercial exchange at any ble capital exceeds the amount of land available moment command materials, tools, and subsistence. for its direct employment, it is in the nature of By the operation of the same laws, the holder of things that these incidents should appear; and no the surplus product is permitted to appropriate the country exhibits combination of circumstances in land itself, which thus, as “ property,” becomes so high a degree as England. confounded with capital; the holder of capital
The case of labor is just the opposite. It is too therefore is not only emancipated from the primæ- sluggish to be transferred from an unproductive to val decree of labor, but is enabled to throw his a productive occupation; and hence, in some deshare of work upon some other, and is further gree, effects similar to those produced by the too enabled to exact a portion of the product of the ready transfer of capital ; as that overshoots the laborer's industry, in some cases limited only by varying course of profitable industry, so labor canthe laborer's power of enduring privation. In not follow it. Possibly it is a mistake to suppose examining the nature and operation of capital, we that the bulk of mankind will ever be sufficiently must bear in mind that it is in great part sustained intelligent to act in these matters by calculation ; by artificial laws; such laws being dictated by possibly the general mass will never have sufficient
Females. foresight to save, and possibly in an exceedingly
15 to 20, 79,031 93,011. well-arranged state of industry individual saving
20 to 25, 89,770 116,326. would not be necessary nor so beneficial as active
25 to 30,
82,315 100,155. production ; possibly the passions of men will
30 to 35, 78,247 92,193. never be thoroughly subdued to the laws of that science which ignores them; but whatever may be 15 to 35,
329,363 401,685. the ultimate condition of men in those respects, The disproportion continues through every sucmost certainly the multitude, now, are not passion- cessive stage of life ; but between the ages of fifless, thrifty, or intelligently directed in their in- teen and thirty-five alone the excess is 72,312. dustry; and we have to deal with people as we Now how is this brought about? Some reasons find them—steadily and annually increasing in for it are obvious. The multitudinous class of numbers ; debarred, as the Daily News says, from domestic servants consists mostly of women ; it the land ; subject to the dictates of capital, await- being calculated that, on an average, as many as ing the pleasure of capital for employment, and 10,000 are always out of work in London. The now in point of fact existing within our shores in life of the domestic servant is a sort of imprisonlarger numbers than capital sees fit to employ. ment in the basement story” of a private house, No practicable diminution of taxes, if
very desolate, comfortless, and “ aggravating.” alter that vitiated state of the relation between In London, also, many of the poorer employments capital, labor, and land. We have land, hands, are practicable-like those filled by the needleand wealth ; and to make all comfortable it is only women who excite Mr. Sidney Herbert's active necessary to combine these elements; but, as the
compassion. Another metropolitan demand for Daily News and the communists say, “the land is women is more proper to be discussed in a treatise not free ;” and to bring about the requisite combi-on medical police; in the present state of moral nation at home, we must alter“ the law, the sys- feeling, men are less shamed to suffer and perpetutem, and the social organization of the country.” ate that miserable wrong than to discuss it. They
That is not to be done in a day, and in truth we do not blush to recognize it among useful instituare but entering upon the threshold of the subject; tions; they do not blush to know that unhappy protectionists, political economists, and communist women of the same mould and heart with their systematists, have kept to the surface, and have not sisters, their lovers and wives, and their daughters, penetrated to the common source of the phenomena are tempted, are blasted in the bloom of youth, and which have severally engrossed their attention, the die ; but they blush to talk about it. In deference common basis of that truth which they see in a to the stubborn form of perverse modesty, we must partial aspect. The solution of their difference only allude to that kind of supply and demand must be a work of time ; their reconcilement in a which obeys the common laws of " commercialcommon plan must belong to times far distant; but ism ;” but it must be enumerated as contributing to no vision of the future should disturb us in present swell the number of females in London, though duties. We must do all the good that is practica- not so much as it might do, if the avocation were ble ; and, pending the solution of our difficulties, less mortal. These three great demands, there we may at least palliate the evils which we cannot fore, draw large supplies into London, and tell in yet extirpate. Colonization is a direct remedy for the census. the evils which we have pointed out, and one By the laws of commercialism, the draught outwhich is immediately available. It corrects the wards, proposed by Mr. Sidney Herbert, should vitiated relations of land, labor, and capital at raise the value of the article. The slop-dealers home, by the same process that establishes sound will find their hands drawn away; the wages of relations in the colony. It effects the immediate domestic servants will rise ; and possibly, filtered good with no immediate harm ; at the same time, through some Magdalen institutions, a few victims it offers no hinderance to the development of our to the other great metropolitan demand may be knowledge or economical philosophy.
rescued from death for reformed lives in the colo
nies. But will not the vacancies be filled up by From the Spectator.
new incomers from the provinces ? It is to be feared, indeed, that Mr. Sidney Herbert can hardly
keep up the drain so fast as the supply will pour LONDON, it seems, is the grand mart for victims in. It is digging holes in sand. The terrible of the female sex. Mr. Sidney Herbert notices ultra-cheapening process, of which he makes light the numerical excess of women, and ascribes to it account, will continue to demand poor workers; their debased condition. Some controversy has and those the provinces will continue to supplyarisen on the amount of the excess in the country unless general emigration should make a more at large, but as to London it remains undisputed; effectual drain upon the store whence the Mosaic and, indeed, the Times, aided by the Companion to demand of the Minories draws its supply. Female the British Almanac for 1844, and its abstract of servants will still be wanted. And the metropolithe population census in 1841, places the matter tan Sphinx will still feed its votaries with the lives beyond a doubt. A table in the Companion gives of young Englishwomen. No Sidney Herbert can the actual numbers of males and females in the keep pace with those processes, nor can you arrest metropolis, divided into their different ages :- them by renoving the present victims.
THE GREAT WOMAN MARKET.
To do that, you must alter the character of the “Oh! certainly," returned Anne, ringing the market, and of the chapmen therein. “How?" bell. you ask, with a sigh of despair. Certainly, de- “A plate of salt for Mr. Clavering,” she said, spair never accomplished anything. Yet we have
when the butler appeared at the door. churches, and clergy, and physiologists, and“ best Clavering require ?” asked the butler, with great
“ Yes, ma'am; about what sized plate will Mr. possible instructors,” and didactic preceptors in solemnity, every class and station. They fail, indeed ; and, “Oh! have the goodness to send my man here,” seeing their failure, redouble the efforts which led said Master Clavering. to failure ; and then, seeing the double failure, The butler withdrew, and Master Clavering's they take heart of grace, and piously quadruple man made his appearance. A middle-aged, decenttheir non-success; and so on-not to the end of the looking man he was, and he had need have been ; chapter, for it is “ a story without an end.”. Do who was as helpless as an infant.
for he had the entire charge of Master Clavering, you propose to turn over a new leaf? Heinous
“ A plate of salt, Power, if you please,” said innovator, you would subvert our institutions and that young gentleman. our morals!
He always spoke courteously to his inferiors, So, meanwhile, the only thing to be done is just unless they put him out of temper. what Mr. Sidney Herbert is doing—to succor the
Power withdrew in his turn, and presently enactual victims of the hour, and do the best we can
tered with a soup-plate full of salt.
* There, Mr. Clavering,” said he, firmly ; " you for them. For to help one another, is the practi
may make that last; for it is all you will get, and cal form of the divine commandment to “ love one
so I tell you." another.” And in doing that, we may by degrees “ Is it? you stupid !” cried Master Clavering, introduce a more sacred spirit even into the im- much exasperated : “ you give it here ; and go and mense unhallowed woman market.
unpack my tops ready for me when I come up
From the Britannia. “ You have got about twenty minutes, Mr. ClaKing's Cope. By the author of “ Mr. Warrenne.”
» vering, before the dressing-bell, and so I tell you, 3 vols. Bentley.
remarked Power, as he was leaving the roorn. Like the previous works of the author, these he retorted. Then, setting one foot on the fender,
“ Have I? I shall stay as long as I choose!” volumes contain a good deal of lively dialogue, and the plate on his knee, he kept throwing small plenty of incident, and most shrewd knowledge of handfuls of salt into the fire, and watching the blue the world. “King's Cope" is the name of the flame that started up as he did so. country seat of Mr. Scawen, the father of the he- Anne sat contemplating his singular wooden face, roine. When the story cominences Anne Scawen fitfully illuminated by the ghastly light, and wonis only ten years old. She has lost her mother
dering whether he was not an idiot. A boy of his only a few months back, and is now waiting, with siruck her as something like insanity, and yet the
age, playing with humming-tops and burning salt, her two brothers, to receive the second wise of way in which he replied to her father and Mrs. her father. This marriage, so soon aster the Scawen, seemed as if he possessed the ordinary death of their mother, is a sad blow to Anne and amount of understanding. In fact, had he been a her youngest brother. She has always been pas- poor man's son, he would have been at once set
down as sionately attached to her brother Hugh, who is
a natural." But, as General Clavering two years older than herself; and, as he has a
was likely to succeed to the earldom of D-, it handsome estate independent of his father, they to speak of him as only eccentric.
was agreed among the young gentleman's friends settle that, as soon as he becomes of age, they In fact, Master Clavering's character was sufwill take possession of Datehley, and commence ficiently complex to puzzle a much greater philoso housekeeping by themselves. The stepmother pher than his father. He expressed himself corproves as disagreeable as most of the race, and rectly whenever he made the effort, and went through Anne takes an inveterate dislike to her. Hugh all the usages of society like a gentleman. He read goes to sea as a midshipman, and Anne has no and seemed to understand what he read. He played
everything that he could get hold of upon politics, protector from the ill-temper of Mrs. Scawen. chess admirably, and possessed a hard shrewdness When Anne is fifteen, a youth, the son of an old that would prevent his being much pillaged in the friend of her father, arrives on a visit. This lad world. But his manner gave way, if the term may is one of the most wilful and eccentric of mortals ; be used, the moment that he felt at all familiar with sometimes showing all the wit of a clever man, a person, and he showed every shade of temper that and sometimes the folly of an idiot. Soon after passed through his mind as plainly as a child of his arrival he is alone with Annie, and he aston- and almost wore out his servant, who was,
five years old. He was very nervous and fidgetty,
howishes her by a singular request :
ever, attached to him, and who had been in the gen“ I say, can you give us a plate of salt ?'' eral's service a great many years. He was very
Anne looked up in his face with the utmost domestic, as his father called it ; that is, he was astonishment.
averse to going to parties, and preferred sitting by “How you do stare with your great eyes !” said the fireside carving toys with a penknife out of a bit the boy, not growing sulky, for a wonder.
of wood, and chanting his single old ballad. He was “ But-salt, Master Clavering?” said Anne, not very fond of women's society, but he endured greatly perplexed.
them better than young men or boys, of whose com“ Salt!" replied that young gentleman dis- pany he had a perfect horror, probably because they tinctly.
had not led him a very easy life when he was at
school. However, he took a decided fancy to Anne; sometimes appearing to consider her as a schoolfellow, and sometimes recollecting that she was a girl, and staring at her large eyes with a kind of hard admiration. But at this stage of their acquaintance both sat perfectly silent-the salt began to wax low, and the dressing-bell rang. Whilst young Clavering is still their guest, they receive an invitation to spend the Christmas at the house of a friend of Mr. Scawen's in Scotland. Anne now, for the first time in her life, mixes with girls of her own age; she is delighted with the novelty of everything she sees, and would have been perfectly happy, had it not been for the discovery of some of her youthful friends.
They assure her that her father must intend her to become in a few years the wife of young Clavering, and she is so indignant at the idea that she treats the poor lad somewhat unkindly in consequence of the good-natured hints she receives. At a children's ball given on Twelfth-night, Anne dances with a young officer who is on the point of sailing with his regiment for India. Anne is fifteen, and young Hardwicke two or three years older. They see each other but twice, and then swear eternal love. In compliance with his wish, Anne steals out of the house at six o'clock in the morning, in order to meet him at the village church, where they are married. Hardwicke leaves his young bride in the churchyard, and hurries off to join the vessel he is to sail in. Anne returns quietly home, and resides, as formerly, with her father for three years, when she is startled by the return" of young Clavering, accompanied by his father. The young gentleman is little altered since Anne last saw him, but she is soon convinced that he has returned as a suitor for her hand, although he has never said a word to her on the subject. At last he informs her of his intentions in his usual odd manner. Anne is one morning playing when they are alone, and complains of some fault in her instrument :
"Ah!" said Clavering," when we take a house, I'll get you one of Erard's pianos; they are better than Broadwood's, after all."
He was sitting by the table scraping a bit of wood, and Anne had been practising a prelude. She certainly had not the least idea that he could suppose himself secure of her hand, without having at all sounded her views on the subject. She left the piano, and came up to his table.
"We take a house? are you dreaming?" she asked.
"When we take a house," said Mr. Clavering, looking up; "I suppose we are not to live in the street or under a hedge, are we ?"
of smile struggled over his wooden features, but he remained silent.
"I did not think," said Anne, indignantly," that you had grown so ill-natured as to withhold from me anything I desired to know. You are not half so pleasant, Mr. Clavering, as you used to be."
So much the worse for you!" retorted Mr. Clavering, growing angry at this unflattering speech.
"For me? what can you mean? Do you think I concern myself whether you are pleasant or not? Why, you can't be pleasant if you would! You do not mean," said Anne, attempting to decipher the singular expression of his face," you cannot mean that papa thinks of you and me together?" with an air of defiance. "Why not?" asked Mr. Clavering, looking up
"Because he knows very well it could never be," said Anne, trying to speak with composure, and walking slowly towards the window.
He knows that, does he?" exclaimed Mr. Clavering, rising, and cautiously laying on the table all the odds and ends he had been treasuring in his handkerchief; "now, I'll tell you what I know. You see if it is not all settled and over before Michaelmas."
As he spoke he followed Anne to the window. "Ah! you may look frightened," he added, perceiving the expression of terror that blanched her face and dilated her eyes; "everybody's mind is made up-so there!"
"Not mine" returned Anne, surveying him with her haughtiest glance; "and, perhaps, it would have been worth while to have ascertained that in the first instance."
"Tell Mr. Scawen so," returned Mr. Clavering, and see if that will make any difference." "Coward!" exclaimed Anne, her whole face beaming with indignation.
Mr. Clavering began to sing the legend of St. Thomas.
"If it is true-if you knew what they were planning, and never warned me-do you not see that you have been acting a very treacherous part?" asked Anne, trembling with agitation.
"Not a bit; I had no objection; I wished it," replied Mr. Clavering, calmly.
"And what were your wishes, pray, unless mine were consulted?" exclaimed Anne; and then to see the meanness; you could get out of it if you pleased, but you know how difficult it would be for me to oppose papa."
"So difficult that I would not advise you to try it," replied Mr. Clavering, coolly nibbling a slender bit of wood, and swinging his foot as he sat on the window seat.
Anne tried to command herself, but she succeeded only in speaking a little more slowly.
"Listen," she said; "it, perhaps, may appear ridiculous to refuse a man who has never thought it worth while to make me an offer."
"I wonder whether he is in his right mind," said Anne, sitting down and beginning to work. "Do you mean to say you don't know what our governors are about?" said Mr. Clavering, still scraping diligently at his bit of wood.
Mr. Clavering nodded his entire acquiescence in this observation.
"You might have had the courtesy to give me the option; you ought to be a gentleman; you, with the blood of the Plantagenets in your veins; but as you are not, as you coolly insult me by tell"Not I, indeed," said Anne; " they were talking me that my marriage with you is arranged, I ing about letting farms, at breakfast. I did not pay attention, because it was a subject that did not amuse me."
Anne had risen, and, leaning her hands on the table, was looking earnestly in his face. A sort
tell you as coolly that it shall not take place. You may arrange with your father, and withdraw quietly at once, or you may remain here planning and settling everything to the last, and so make your defeat the more absurd and public-do which you