healthy, wealthy, and wise," is, to say the least of it, in most instances, an absurdity.

Again, the moraliser says, "Industry needs not wish, and he that lives upon hope may die fasting;" to which I reply industry need "wish." Wish that labour was better rewarded, capital in a better position to do it,"wish" that some better mode was adopted between master and servant to settle disputes than strikes-the emblem of barbarism-the strong in pounds against the weak in pence,-" wish" that over speculation on the part of those who employ industry did not at times bring them to the verge of ruin, and starvation, often the workhouse,-"wish" that greater kindness and urbanity was used by the employers,-"wish" that a greater desire was shown to allow industry more of the comforts of life than it now has: in brief,-"wish" that those who have so much would be content with a little less, and allow those who have so little a few more of those things which tend to make the cottage happy, as well as the mansion, and give greater security for the happiness of both. So that after all, Mr. Franklin, industry needs "wish," and I fear will have to "wish" for many of the things above narrated, as long as capital and labour are in existence.

On the latter portion of the maxim under examination, "He that lives on hope may die fasting," much can be said. Hope is one of those beautiful principles in the human mind which, if taken away, would do much to destroy the happiness of the human family. Of course, no such thing as taking away hope from the human mind with our present organization, will ever take place. It may fairly be asserted that "hope," under all the dif ficulties incident to the struggles of life, has kept millions in existence who would have died had they given way to despair. Take a vessel on fire at sea,-exertions are used to extinguish the flames,-crew and passengers "hope" their exertions will be successful. So with shipwrecks; all exertions are used with a "hope" that they may be successful. So with individuals who are dangerously ill; they "hope" they may get better. A hundred instances could be cited where individuals have lived upon hope, instead of giving way to despair, and their "hope" has not been in vain. This word hope" would of itself make a lengthy paper, as the book called the "Pleasures of Hope" can testify.

Again, says the Doctor, "There are no gains without pains, then help hands for I have no lands." The former portion of this maxim would read much better and more truly, in my opinion, if it read thus,-" There are many pains with few gains, and plenty gains with few pains."

In examining the first maxim brought under notice in this paper, allusion was made to the toil of the great body of society, and as tautology is never or seldom pleasing, those arguments need not be repeated. But the multitude of hard workers have the "pains," minus the "gains," while the usurer who lends his money, the speculators in consols, money dealers generally, and a shoal of others of the same kith and kin, have the "gains," minus the "pains." So this is another of the maxims of Franklin, which scarcely bears the test of examination.

Let us now look at the second portion of it, "Then help hands for I have no lands." This portion may mean one of two things, or both. It may be an appeal to the "hands" of an individual or to him who employs fifty, a hundred, or a thousand "hands." If the appeal is to one pair of hands, and those of the working classes, then it is evident that if he used those "hands" for a lifetime, his "lands" would be few indeed, because, as has been before stated, there are few who work who can save anything out of their earnings; and, in a country like ours, where "land" is so dear, one pair of "hands" will seldom have "lands." On the other hand, if Franklin meant

an employer of "hands" he was right; if not, so far as this country is concerned at least, he is entirely in the wrong.

Again, the Doctor says, "At the working man's house hunger looks in, but dares not enter." The low-paid working man of this country (and his name is legion) scarcely ever knows what a full stomach is, and there are thousands in the Manchester Unity who can bear witness to the fact. So that "hunger" not only "dares look in," but the lean, lank, contemptible vagabond is everlastingly poking his gaunt limbs about the households of thousands of working men. Another of the Doctor's fallacies; for, be it remembered, he makes no exceptions.

It is hoped that in examining so many of these maxims the reader's patience will not be exhausted; for it is the firm conviction of the writer that the fallacies contained in many, and the spirit of selfishness engendered in men's minds by others, have done more to endanger the principles of humanity propounded in the New Testament, than the works of any other writer of the past or present age.

Here is a nice character for the working men of any country, and one, in my opinion, that is a libel on the industrious of the old and the new world; here it is written in all its native purity, or impurity-which you please" Not to oversee workmen is to leave your purse open;" in other words, hot to have your eyes on the workman at his labour, he would as soon and as easily rob you as if his master's purse came in his way and was open. The workman would rob his master by idling away his time, or taking away the material, or both. This is clearly not only what Franklin says, but what he means.

That there are workmen of this description there is little doubt, but that the very large majority of them would either idle away their time, or take their master's property away, if the master did not "oversee" them, every large firm throughout this country is a proof positive of the falsity of the assertion, and the wrong done to the workman throughout the world. The wish of most men is to please their master,-take care of his property, do as much work as they can, in order that they may be retained in their employment-elevated, if possible; and if these be not high enough inducements, that they may not be turned away, to be long out of employment, and starve in the mean time. These are reasons sufficient to destroy the Doctor's assertion. I hope that if any employer has taken into his head the maxim that "not to overlook workmen is to leave them your purse open," he will blot it from his memory, and have more confidence in the workmen, who are at once the helpers to his fortune, and the glory and mainstay of the empire.

The maxims hitherto quoted allude to business only, now for the Doctor's frugality:-"A man may, if he knows not how to save as he gets, keep his nose all his life to the grind-stone and die, not worth a groat at last. A fat kitchen makes a lean will."

In order then that mankind may leave a "fat" will, let his kitchen and himself be like a "lean and hungry Cassius," or, in other words, live as niggardly as possible, deprive yourself of the comforts and conveniences of life to make a "fat will," that your descendants may squander it away if they please, and make your accumulations "lean" indeed. A maxim that all wise men will think he is a fool that carries out.

Here is another invocation of the Doctor to all men not to treat their friends with what is known amongst us as "English hospitality," and let the Lord Mayor of London place it on the Mansion House the next time he invites his guests: "Fools make feasts and wise men eat them." So he who invites his friends to a good dinner or supper is a "fool," and

those who come to see him and partake are "wise." A pretty maxim truly. If all men were to cease inviting their friends to a feast occasionally, we should become individualized; that kindly feeling which is brought about by the interchange of thought at these social re-unions would be unknown, and if callousness towards each other's welfare exists at the present time, it would be infinitely worse if that selfish and false maxim was carried out, "Fools make feasts and wise men eat them." What opinion Doctor Franklin had of his beau ideal of a "wise man" that would feast with fools," is not for me to say; but sure I am no "wise man" would sit down to "feast" with a "fool." If he ever does, he is a "fool" with a circumbendibus-A KNAVE.

Again, "Silks and satins, scarlet and velvets, put out the kitchen fire;" and in justification of this maxim, read the Doctor's own reasoning on it. "These are not the necessaries of life, they can scarcely be called the conveniences; and yet only because they look pretty, how many want them." Now, ladies, sell your "silks, satins, and velvets ;" gentlemen do the same; they are not "necessaries;" nay they are not "conveniences;" and when you have sold them, buy no more, in order that your "kitchen fire" may burn more brightly. If this be not what Franklin's countrymen call "bosh," I should like to know what is.

What is it that proves the advance of civilization-tends to the growth of commerce-stimulates the human intellect-gives employment to millions, causes emulation, and spurs to industry hundreds of thousands of the working classes? The very things that Franklin sets so light a value on, "Silks and satins, scarlet and velvets."

Quite true; we could do without the "silks, satins," &c., and return to the linsey woolsey of a past age; nay, we might, like the Indians of the present day, don a blanket and mocassins; but he who would recommend or support such a theory, should "don a lion's skin on his recreant limbs." What would become of the Spitalfields, Macclesfield, and Lyons' silk weavers, if Franklin's idea was carried out, that their labour is neither a "necessary" nor a "convenience?" What would become of the pattern makers, the card makers, for that beautiful machine the Jacquard loom? Nay, what would become of progress, the fine arts, and all that tends to please the eye and elevate the human intellect! They would be blotted out from amongst us, and retrogression would take the place of progression. I wish again to observe that there are many, very many, of Franklin's maxims excellent indeed. The few selected, in my humble opinion, have done much mischief, as many of them are not only untrue but positively injurious to the minds of all those who harbour them and all who come near them.

Contrast the selfish maxims of the Doctor with the touching, beautiful, and simple doctrines of the New Testament. We will glance at a few of the latter: "Love one another," "He that hath two coats let him give to him that hath none," "Love thy neighbour as thyself," "Do unto others as ye would that they should do unto you." These and many others of a similar kind from the same source, tended and tend to soften the heart, teach us to be kind to each other, and inculcate in the bosoms of all the God-like feeling of charity.

"Charity decent, modest, easy kind,

Softens the high and rears the abject mind;"

while, on the other hand, too many of Franklin's maxims tend to selfishness, and make us forget the feelings of others.

I hope none of the Doctor's numerous admirers will consider it high treason, because I have endeavoured to analyse and dispute that which has passed almost undisputed for a century.

Errors are errors from whatever source they come. It is possible and probable that my examination of these far-famed maxims may be considered absurd and fallacious, as I consider the great Dr. Franklin's

are.

"WRITE SOON."

BY ELIZA COOK.

Long parting from the hearts we love
Will shadow o'er the brightest face;
And happy they who part, and prove
Affection changes not with place.

A sad farewell is warmly dear,
But something dearer may be found
To dwell on lips that are sincere,
And lurk in bosoms closely bound.

The pressing hand, the steadfast sigh,
Are both less earnest than the boon
Which, fervently, the last fond sigh

Begs in the hopeful words, " Write soon!"

"Write soon!" oh, sweet request of Truth!
How tenderly its accents come!

We heard it first in early youth,

When mothers watched us leaving home.

And still amid the trumpet-joys,

That weary us with pomp and show,

We turn from all the brassy noise

To hear this minore cadence flow.

We part, but carry on our way

Some loved-one's plaintive spirit-tune,

That, as we wander, seems to say,

"Áffection lives on Faith,-Write soon!"

ROBERT BURNS AND THE CENTENARY.

On the 25th of January, 1759, in a clay-built cottage, raised by his father's own hands, on the banks of bonnie Doon, in the district of Kyle-thenceforth to further enhance the old boast of "Kyle for a man"-and in the county of Ayr, amidst a tempest which shattered the frail tenement that the parental hands had erected for the roof-tree of his wife and little ones, and sent the newly-born babe and its mother to seek the shelter of betterhoused neighbours, was born Scotland's great lyric poet, ROBERrt Burns, the centenary of whose birth has just been celebrated even in England "from Eddystone to Berwick bounds, from Lynn to Milford Bay," with a unanimous fervour that in its ovation to the poet's memory, leaves no room for doubt of its thorough sincerity. But how far the worshippers brought a reasonable knowledge to accompany a sudden ecstatic faith, at least this side the Border, may be questionable.

The biography of the poet is a familiar story, for it has been often and well told by his fellow-countrymen-Lockhart, Allan Cunningham, Robert Chambers, Cromek especially; and the poet himself gives, in a letter to Dr. Moore, in 1787, an exceedingly graphic account of his earlier years and his family's struggles; in fact, with the exception of Dr. Johnson as photographed by the Scotch laird, James Boswell, we call to mind no single literary life which has been so completely laid open to us; and his diligent biographers had great help from the poet's own worthy brother Gilbert, a sensible, well-informed man, whose reminiscences, apart from their interesting subject, have a great charm from their freshness of feeling and vigorous perception. We will briefly recapitulate the main incidents. The father of the future bard, William Burness, as he spelt the name, was a fine type of the better-developed Scotch character, laborious, frugal, and pious; yet withal somewhat rigid and sombre, which was not to be wondered at, for the hard-striving man's life was soured by worldly unsuccess, and his nature tinctured by rigid Calvinism. The mother of Burns was in much a remarkable woman-at least sufficiently so to prove the commonly observed rule, that all celebrated men owe the seeds of future eminence to the individuality of their mothers. Frequently she cheered the hours of monotonous gloom in the poverty-pressed cot by chaunting old songs and ballads, of which she had a large store, and which, doubtless, lighted the flame smouldering in her young son's mind, to be further fed by an old dame who came to live with the simple family when the boy was ten years old, and who possessed the largest store of tales concerning fairies and ghosts, and witches and warlocks, and such eerie folk, to be found in that country side. Nobody can doubt who knows even little of the Scottish poet's biography, that he owed much to the superior education afforded to his class; and this explains, in a large measure, not only the mastery of numbers and powers of clear expression which Burns's correspondence amply demonstrates, but how prepared was such an educated public both for the production and appreciation of such a man by their superior culture and training. Much more than a common pedagogue was Murdoch to Robert Burns, and few men could have reaped greater advantages in so short a period even from the best of tutors. His instruction, as far as it went, was sound, and his reading, though necessarily discursive, was solid. In 1784 the good father died-Robert being 24 years of ageworn out with toil and sorrow, after living just long enough to learn that

VOL. II.

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