his motions, and, like the secret police of Austria, can generally tell where he is to be found, which are his favourite haunts, and at what hour he reached his home the previous night. They are to be seen lurking about the corners of the streets in parties, with their ragged, jaded, scraggy-looking animals, waiting for a job. They are themselves as ragged, wretched, and emaciated; and it is truly wonderful how they are able to support the fatigue which they are destined to go through. They live but sparingly, and are at the call of every one, whether Infidel, Turk, or Jew. They are constantly on the alert; watch the looks of every passer-by; and at the smallest indication of assent, drag their meagre-looking beasts to the spot, vociferating all the way, abusing each other, scrambling to arrive first, and sounding the praise of these most unfortunate of all the brute creationanimals which, to judge by appearances, would hardly have strength to transport themselves into the adjoining street, and therefore little calculated to bear the burden of a full-grown Turk, to say nothing of a saddle and trappings weighing twenty-five pounds. It is easy to perceive that neither man nor beast has more rest or more to eat than he knows what to do with. Some bread, a few dates, a piece of gourd or melon, some "youart," (curd), and a little rice occasionally, constitute the food of the one, and a bundle of chopped straw and a few beans the support of the other. Both sleep in the open air, or in a miserable shed surrounded by filth and rubbish. I have already described the manner of their proceeding, the hurried uncertain course of their existence, and the singular vivacity with which they wriggle their way along the crowded streets, threading the busy multitude, apparently without fatigue to either party. These boys must run several miles in the course of a few hours; and their very looks betray the nature of their avocation. The countenance is always haggard, pale, and anxious, their breathing hurried, their whole visage and demeanour sharp and restless. As we might expect, they shorten their days, and very many of them die of a diseased heart. They are not predisposed to consumption; for this is a disease that is seldom to be met with in Egypt; nor is asthma so frequent in its occurrence as we might imagine à priori that it would be: still it occurs, and, I have no doubt, is brought on in these youths by violent exercise, and frequent exposure to the heavy dews of the night. But "use is second nature;" and if they lived better, they would probably not only be unable to perform their work, but they would be rendered more susceptible of disease. They are generally satisfied with three or four piastres a day, and think themselves well paid. Many do not give them half that sum, and others take their donkies by force, especially the soldiers and "jacks in office," and give them nothing, except, perhaps, a severe beating. No wonder, then, that they prefer the service of a Frank, and particularly of an Englishman, who still preserves his character for liberality even in Egypt.

The volumes, according to the prevalent fashion, are enriched by means of illustrations of an artistic kind.

128

ART. XIII.-The Works of Jeremy Bentham. Part XX. Edinburgh. Tait.

DR. BOWRING'S "Memoirs of Bentham, including Auto-biographic Conversations and Correspondence," are drawing to a close; another part promising to complete the work. We may at some future time feel it necessary not only to enter upon an examination of the character of the great jurisconsult and legal reformer, and also of his works, but of the biographer's performance. In the meanwhile, it is scarcely needful to do more as regards the present instalment, than to say, that in so far as the correspondence is in this portion of the publication to be spoken of, extending for about forty years over the lifetime of the philosopher, and reaching his eightieth year, it is as vivacious, as abounding in native simplicity, candour, and cordial love of what would in most men be the mere theme of dry abstractions, or of worn-out and unheeded speculations, as were his first impulses and theories, and he as he was when he first promulgated them. Whether right or wrong in his doctrines and mode of disquisition, Jeremy was to be beloved, and will be revered for his honesty, his unaffected vanity if you will, his unselfish discoveries, his permanency in all that he believed to concern the lasting interests of human society. Indeed, were it for nothing but the labour, the ardour and good-will, the perfect self-denial, with which to the last he pursued his grand objects for ameliorating and elevating the condition of his fellow men, he would be deserving of high honour ; but when one studies his works as well as his character, and finds that he was a great originator and wise cultivator, it is impossible not to look upon him in the most exalted light of a doer as well as a projector. Just hear how Edward B. Sugden adressed Jeremy on one

occasion:

I do myself the pleasure of sending you a copy of a pamphlet, on a subject which you have so long since so entirely and happily exhausted, as to leave nothing to future writers to attempt. Truth, however, requires sometimes to be repeated; and this is all that I have done. It is not without hesitation that I venture to intrust to you my humble production; but Mr. Brougham assures me that it will be kindly received; and, as he justly observed, it is a tribute due to the father of the subject. I beg to express my regrets that I have so long delayed to render it.

But how playful, how affectionate,-what a character-reader and plain-spoken person, what a prophet and what a lover, the shy yet garrulous old man! How gay yet how grave! How doting yet how wise! It needeth only to pluck, and fruit full of knowledge, flavour, and mellowness you will grasp. These to Henry Brougham, whose accession and adhesion to the cause of legal reform were the subjects of boundless gratulation on the part of the philosopher.

Q. S. P., 24th September, 1827.

MY DEAREST BEST BOY,-You are not so much as fifty. I am four-score -a few months only wanting: I am old enough to be your grandfather, I could at this moment catch you in my arms, toss you up into the air, and, as you fell into them again, cover you with kisses. It shall have--ay, that it shall the dear little fellow, some nice sweet pap of my own making: three sorts of it--1. Is Evidence. 2. Judicial Establishments. 3. Codification Proposal- all to be sucked in in the order of the numbers.

Again

30th November, 1827.

MY DEAR BOY,-You have now been breeched some 1 me; and with a little study, you are able, I am sure, to get a short exercise by heart, and speak it quite pretty. Here is one for you; the next time you toddle to Q. S. P., let me hear you say it; and if you say it without missing more than four words, I have a bright silver fourpence for you, which you shall take and put into your pocket.

When you say it you are to fancy you are in the House of Commons; that I am speaker; and you sitting on one of the forms, with a pretty silk gown on your little shoulders, and a fine bushy wig on your little pate; and then you start up as fierce as a little lion, and say what is in the paper which is here enclosed.

Do as you are bid-I am sure you can, if you will-and the one I have mentioned is not the last of the silver fourpences you will receive from the hands of your loving guardian.

Master Henry Brougham.

J. B.

P.S.-In some places, you will see various readings marked by brackets. Give my respects to your grandmamma, and beg of her to choose for you which you shall say.

In our next, Broom is still the person addressed, a summons to a dinner-party being the occasion:

13th May, 1822.

Get together a gang, and bring them to the Hermitage, to devour such eatables and drinkables as are to be found in it.

Hour of attack, half after six.

Hour of commencement of plunderage, seven.

Hour of expulsion, with the aid of the adjacent Police-office if necessary, quarter before eleven.

Day of attack to be determined by Universal Suffrage.

N.B.-To be performed with advantage, all plunderage must be regulated. Witness matchless Constitution.

VOL. I. (1843) NO. I.

L

Burdett figures along with Brougham in what immediately follows, the views of the philosopher having been communicated to one of his friends:

The member by whom this letter is franked is the famous Mr. Brougham -pronounce Broom-who, by getting the orders in council revoked, and peace and trade with America thereby restored, has just filled the whole country with joy, gladness, and returning plenty. He has been dining with me to day and has but just gone. This little dinner of mine he has been intriguing for any time these five or six months; and what with one plague and another, never till this day could I find it in my heart to give him one -I.mean this year: for the last we were already intimate. He is already one of the first men in the House of Commons, and seems in a fair way of being very soon universally acknowledged to be the very first, even beyond my old and intimate friend, Sir Samuel Romilly: many, indeed, say he is so now. Sir Francis Burdett is still upon my hands, for a dinner he has been wanting to give me, any time these six weeks, offering to have anybody I will name to meet me. In real worth he is FAR BELOw those others: but being the hero of the mob, and having it in his power to do a great deal of harm, as well as a great deal of good, and, being rather disposed to do good, and indeed, having done a good deal already, must not be neglected.

To Lord Burdett himself:

Q. S. P., 11th February, 1828. FRANCIS,I see how it is with you. You don't know where to go for a dinner; and so you are for coming to me. I hear you have been idler than usual, since you were in my service; always running after the hounds, whenever you could get anybody to trust you with a horse. I hear you are got among the Tories, and that you said once you were one of them: you must have been in your cups. You had been reading High Life Below Stairs, I suppose, and wanted them to call you Lord Burdett. You have always had a hankering after bad company, whatever I could do to keep you out of it. You want to tell me a cock-and-a-bull story about that fellow Brougham. I always thought you a cunning fellow; but I never thought it would have come to this. You want to be, once more, besides getting a bellyful, as great a man as

Well, I believe, I must indulge you. No work will there be for you on Wednesday; I can tell you that. That is the day, therefore, for your old master to be charitable to you. So come here that day a little before seven.

Orders will be given for letting you in.

Relative to Sir Robert:

Peel is weak and feeble. He has been nursed at the breast of Alma Mater. Like the greyhounds of a lady I know, which were fed upon brandy to prevent their growth, so he feeds upon old prejudices to prevent his mind from growing. He has done all the good he is capable of doing, and that is but little. He has given a slight impulse to law improvement in a right direction.

Once more of Brougham:

Insincere as he is, it is always worth my while to bestow a day on him. I shall try to subdue him, and make something of him. I shall see whether he has any curiosity to assist in tearing the established system of procedure to rags and tatters. When I am in the grave

I amgoing off the stage. Brougham keeps on.

I shall have the advantage over him. He will, perhaps, disappoint me.

And lastly, at present the philosopher himself,-the love-stricken, disappointed, heart-covenant-keeping philosopher! How touching and deep, how manly and instructive the love-letter!

Q.S.P., April 1827. I am alive more than two months advanced in my 80th year-more lively than when you presented me, in ceremony, with the flower in the green lane. Since that day, not a single one has passed (not to speak of nights), in which you have not engrossed more of my thoughts than I could have wished. Yet, take me for all in all, I am more lively now than then -walking, though only for a few minutes, and for health sake, more briskly than most young men whom you see-not unfrequently running.

In the enclosed scrap there are a few lines, which I think you will read with pleasure.

I have still the pianoforte harpischord, on which you played at Bowood : as an instrument, though no longer useful, it is still curious; as an article of furniture, not unhandsome; as a legacy, will you accept it?

I have a ring, with some of my snow-white hair in it, and my profile, which everybody says is like. At my death you will have such another; should you come to want, it will be worth a good sovereign to you.

You will not, I hope, be ashamed of me.

The last letter I received from Spanish America (it was in the present year), I was styled Legislador del Mundo, and petitioned for a Code of Laws. It was from the man to whom that charge was committed by the legislature of his country-Guatemala.

Every minute of my life has been long counted and now I am plagued with remorse at the minutes which I have suffered you to steal from me. In proportion as I am a friend of mankind (if such I am, as I endeavour to be), you, if within my reach, would be an enemy.

I have, for some years past, had a plan for building a harem in my garden, upon the Panopticon principle. The premiership waits your acceptance; a few years hence, when I am a little more at leisure than at present, will be the time for executing it.

For these many years I have been invisible to all men (not to speak of women), but for special reason. I have lost absolutely all smell; as much as possible all taste, and swarm with petty infirmities. But it seems as if they ensured me against serious ones. I am, still am I gay, eminently so, and "the cause of gaiety in other men."

To read the counterpart of this in your hand would make a most mischievous addition to my daily dose of bitter sweets-the above-mentioned mixture of pain and pleasure. Oh, what an old fool am I, after all, not to