lar in truth it was, but every thing was in order. Endeavours too had been made to give it a look of home comfort. The window with its paperpatched panes had a calico blind. The table against the wall was dressed up with yellow jugs and cups and saucers; and band-boxes, no doubt containing bonnets and shawls, with nice little articles for Sundays and holidays, were ranged on the flat top of the bedstead. The chairs, old though they were, had evidently been bought at a sale, and, being good mahogany, had doubtless pertained to a very different abode: they had sound backs and seats, and were free from dust. These people, like the inhabitants of the front room-the widow, with her son and two daughters were striving and industrious persons. They knew right from wrong, and acted according to what they knew; and it was interesting to consider how much of home-comfort might be enjoyed when united with right feeling and perseverance in good conduct.

Widely different were the homes of many others. Some too there were, whose occupants, it may be feared, had stifled the whisper of conscience. Yet, even in such, as visitors report, there was often something to admire: words of thankfulness were heard, and much natural affection shown in seasons of especial sorrow.

darkest and most desolate abode, brought the poor girl home. A little straw, stuffed into an old tick, was all she had to lie on; and even that had been given up to her by the mother, until she should be well enough to work again. A cloak had been fastened up slantingly across the window, to shield the poor creature from the wind; and on a string that ran along the wall was tied, among the bonnets, a clean night-cap, "against the doctor came," as the mother, curtseying, informed the visitor. By the side of the bed, almost hidden in the dark shade, was a pile of sieve-baskets, crowned by the flat shallow, that the mother worked with.

The room was about nine feet square, and furnished a home for three hard-working women. The ceiling slanted, like that of a garret: in colour it resembled a piece of old leather, excepting a few rough white patches, where the tenants had rudely mended it. Light might be seen through the laths; and in one corner a large piece of the paper looped down from the wall. "We never want rain-water," said the mother; for we can catch plenty just over the chimney. place."

A kind of carpet, made out of two or three old mats, covered the floor. They were "obligated to it, for fear of dropping any thing through the boards into the donkey-stables underneath". "But we only pay ninepence a week for rent," said the old woman, "and mustn't grumble."

The following affecting sketch will bring before the mental view a family of the poorest description, among the nomad tribes of whom I speak. A slanting roof, partly stripped of its tiles, covered One only ornament graced the mantel-piecetheir abode. More than one-half of the small an old earthenware sugar-basin, well silvered leaden-framed squares of the window were patched over. And how many associations were conwith brown paper, peeping out, and crackling in nected with that old sugar-basin! What melanthe wind others had ball-shaped bundles of rags, choly remembrances rested on it!-thoughts of to keep out the cold. Such of the panes as re- playful infancy; of a strong, willing girl; of a mained unbroken were of all shapes and sizes: at stout young man, perhaps, who wiled her from a short distance they looked like yellow glass, beneath a mother's care; of failing health, and a and were, moreover, stained and dirty. The sad coming back to die. The poor girl, when street, or rather alley, to which the visitor was sinking fast, gave that basin to her mother, who directed, turned into a considerable thoroughfare; carefully placed it on the mantel-piece; and there and the door that led to the comfortless abode, it had stood ever since, duly dusted, and looked with its cracked and rag-stuffed panes and dirt-upon with many a tearful eye. Two cracked begrimed glass, had a number chalked upon it. A tottering staircase appeared immediately in front, and, on entering the miserable room, which opened immediately upon the staircase, scarcely could the visitor bear the smoke that came pouring from the chimney into the room. The place was filled with it, and it rendered every object so indistinct that it was difficult to see the mugs that were ranged in the corner cupboard, though not three yards distant. When the wind was in the north, or when it rained, the room was filled with smoke; "but, otherwise," said an aged dame, with long grizzly hair spreading over her black shawl, "it is pretty good for that."

tea-cups on their inverted saucers were stationed on each side, and gave to the fire-place something like tidiness. The chair on which the visitor sat was by far the best out of the three in the room; and that was backless, with only half its quantity of straw for stuffing.

The parish allowed the poor old woman one shilling weekly, and two loaves. "But the doctor orders the sick girl sago and milk," she said; "and many a time I'm sore puzzled to get it. Neighbours help as well as they can, and often sends unsold greens, may-be only the outer leaves of the cabbages, and we be thankful. Tother girl does all she can, and so we live on. Long as we can A pale-faced girl, eighteen years old—"eighteen keep out of the big house (the workhouse) we years old last twelfth-cake day," said the mother-don't complain." The sight was an affecting one. lay on a mattress on the floor, her drawn-up form showing under the patchwork counterpane laid over her. Poor thing! she had been confined; cast off, most probably, by her companion, as not unfrequently occurs; and her child had died. The workhouse commonly receives young women when thus circumstanced, and the lad "takes 'em a bit of tea and sugar, if he has any heart left"; but in the present instance the poor mother of the girl, with a mother's love, shining bright even in the

On the straw mattress lay a poor, pale, suffering girl, with little to sustain her, yet meek and pa tient her sister, a big-boned girl, with a red shawl crossed over her bosom, and black hair parted on one side, had just come in; and there was the mother, old and weather-beaten, yet with all a mother's love and care.

"Never," said the visitor, "did I behold so much destitution borne with so much content. Verily, the resignation of the poor is a thing to

make those who write and preach about it hide | Jews and Irish; they be willing to earn a

their heads."

penny." This regard for the sabbath does not
result from religious feeling; far from it: they
like a holiday, and go off to their favourite
haunts, in full Sunday suits, which consist of
rough beaver hats, brown Petersham, with velvet
stripes down the sides. The best among them
take their wives and children; on which occasions
the women are attired in cotton gowns of bright
showy patterns, and smart best shawls.
"Costers
likes to see their wives look lady-like when they
takes them out." Those, on the contrary, who
are not in a flourishing way of business, seldom
make any alteration in their dresses on a Sunday.
Till within a comparatively recent period there
were only four tailors in London who made the
peculiar garb worn by these singular people.
Recently, however, a fifth has set up business;
but, with regard to him, it is asserted that none of
the most respectable costermongers deal with him,
on account of his employing women at reduced
wages. Nor is it unworthy of remark, that a
whole court of the nomad race would withdraw
their custom from a tradesman, if assured by some
one of influence among them that he was unjust
to his work-people.

The nomadic races are characterized by a certain peculiarity of dress, which readily distinguishes them. A costermonger's every-day costume is both strong and durable. He usually wears a small cloth cap, a little on one side; or a close-facings of the same colour, and cloth trousers with fitting worsted cap is much approved of, with ringlets on the temple. Hats are never worn, except on Sunday; coats seldom. The waistcoats are of a broad-ribbed corduroy, with fustian back and sleeves, and buttoned up nearly to the throat. If the corduroy be of a light sandy colour, it is adorned with brass buttons, either plain or with raised fox or stags' heads upon them, or black bone buttons, flower-patterned; but, if the cord is of a dark rat-skin hue, then mother-of-pearl buttons are preferred. Two large pockets-sometimes four-with huge flaps or lappels, like those in a shooting-coat, are commonly worn. The most admired stuff for trousers at the present is a dark-coloured cable cord," made to fit tightly at the knee, and swelling gradually until they reach the boot, which they nearly cover. Those who deal wholly in fish wear blue serge aprons, either hanging down or tucked up round their waists. The costermonger, however, prides himself most of all upon his handkerchief and boots. Men and women, boys and girls, all have a pas-munity whose peculiar habits and neglected consion for these articles; and so far is this predilection dition have been, till recently, unknown. We carried, that the man who does not wear his silk owe considerable information to the author of handkerchief is known to be in desperate circum- "London Labour and London Poor." The stances, the inference being that it has gone to subject-matter of much in the previous pages has supply the morning stock. Women wear their been derived from him; and is presented to the kerchief tucked in under their gowns, and the public with a fervent hope that nomadic races in men have theirs wrapped loosely round the neck, the great metropolis will no longer remain unwith the ends hanging over their waistcoats; and noticed by the Christian philanthropist. Many a so great is their predilection for this ornamental passer-by, with her basket of oranges or ropes of portion of their dress that, if a costermonger has onions, her water-cresses, or such wares as women even two or three silk handkerchiefs by him mostly deal in, followed perhaps by two or three already, he seldom hesitates to buy another, when unloveable-looking children, each one having a bright showy one hangs from a door-post. something to dispose of, earnestly desires for them a better state of things. She knows but little, nothing perchance, of those glorious truths which are to us even as household words; but the little which she knows is often carefully imparted to the young ones during a respite from labour.

The love of a good strong boot pervades the whole community, from the father to the youngest child. All are well shod; and so strong is their feeling in this respect, that a costermonger may be known by a glance at his boots; and to wear a pair of second-hand ones would be regarded as a bitter degradation. Among the men this peculiarity has risen to such a height that very many have the upper leathers tastily ornamented; and it is not uncommon to see the younger men of this class with a heart or thistle, surrounded by a wreath of roses, worked below the instep, on their boots. The general costume of the women or girls is a black velveteen or straw bonnet, with a few ribbons or flowers, and almost always a net cap, fitting closely to the cheek. The gaily-coloured handkerchief which covers the shoulders is sometimes tucked into the neck of the printed cotton gown, as already mentioned; and sometimes the ends are brought down outside to the apronstrings. Silk gowns are never worn, even on the most holiday time: costermonger women rather despise such articles. Their petticoats are somewhat short, ending at the ankles, just high enough to show the whole of the much-admired boots.

The costermonger will never wheel a barrow on a Sunday if it can possibly be avoided: "We leave such doings," said one of them, "to the

Such are facts concerning a class of the com

Who can read without feelings of deep interest the following simple statement by a poor Irish widow, who sold onions about the streets?

"Yes, indeed, he died (her husband), the heavens be his bed; and he was prepared by father M-. We had our trials together; but sore's been the cross and heavy the burden since its pleased God to call him. Then there's the two childer, Biddy and Ned. They'll be ten and they'll be eight come their next burreth-day, plase the Lord. They can help me now, they can. I can read a little myself, and I gets them a bit o' larning now and then, when I can, of an evening mostly. I sells to the tradesmen and lodgers in Tottenham Court-road, and other parts; for we travel a dale. We follows one another.""

The Cabinet.

FRUITS OF THANKFULNESS TO GOD.-Blessed, thrice blessed, is religious gratitude. One favour thankfully received is usually the forerunner of a

(Running Footmen.)

ring which the king, while he was running, let | unjust, that he might bring us to God" (1 Pet. fall on purpose to ensure his destruction.

iii. 19). On this account God can be "just, and
the justifier of him which believeth in Jesus"
(Rom. iii. 26). To the transgressor of the law of
God, who is convinced in his own conscience of
the evil and danger of sin, and desires to turn
from it, in order that he may be truly a servant
of God, "the word of the truth of the gospel"
(Col. i, 5) proclaims "forgiveness of sins" through
faith in Christ Jesus, "the Lamb of God, which
taketh away the sin of the world" (John i. 29),
"the propitiation for our sins" (1 John iv. 10);
and declares that, for the sake of "the sacrifice
of the death of Christ," the Father of heaven
"will be merciful to" his "unrighteousness,
and will remember no more his sins" and his “ini-
quities" (Heb. viii. 12), but will "cast" them
all into the depths of the sea" (Micah vii. 19),
no more to be brought forward against him.
"To him give all the prophets witness, that through
his name whosoever believeth in him shall receive
remission of sins" (Acts x. 43).