munication with the sea.' The Salmon has been known to attain the weight of eighty-three pounds.

The Salmon-Trout (S. Trutta) in its habits and economy, much resembles the Salmon; migrating from the sea to the rivers and back again. It is considered as next to that fine species in value for the excellence of its flesh. It is found in some parts of our country, but principally in the streams of Scotland, Wales, and Ireland. The largest individual on record weighed seventeen pounds.

The Common Trout (S. Fario), which by its voracity, and no less by its cautious vigilance, affords excellent sport to the angler, is one of the most beautiful of the genus. The form is elegant, the curves which form the outline of the back and the belly being very graceful and flowing: the colour of the upper parts is yellowish, with many reddish spots, brighter on the sides, where the hue becomes golden yellow; the belly silvery white. And its excellence answers to its beauty; for, as Walton observes, "he may justly contend with all fresh-water fish, as the Mullet may with all seafish, for precedency and daintiness of taste; and, being in right season, the most dainty palates have allowed precedency to him." The Trout does not descend to the sea, but is a constant inhabitant of the rivers, haunting such places as afford deep holes and hollow banks, in which it lies concealed during the day, but in the night swims near the surface, snaps at flies, and hunts after small fishes, frogs, and even water-rats. "Though vigilant and cautious in the extreme, the Trout is also bold and active. A Pike and a Trout put into a confined place together, had several battles for a particular spot, but the Trout was eventually the master." Trout of fifteen pounds are occasionally caught in the Thames; but one is recorded to have been caught near Great Driffield in 1832, which was thirty-one inches in length, twenty-one in girth, and weighed seventeen pounds. And, in 1822, one was taken near Salisbury, which weighed twenty-five pounds. The fish called Charr, inhabiting mountain lakes, and marked by the *Yarrell's Br. Fishes, ii. 21.

+ Yarrell.

brilliant orange hue of the underparts,-is a species of Salmon (S. Alpinus, S. Salvelinus, &c.). It is highly esteemed for its flavour, but does not afford much sport to the angler.

The Graylings (Thymallus) resemble the Trouts, but are distinguished by the smallness of the mouth, the large size of the scales, and the great height and length of the first dorsal fin: the gills have seven or eight rays. They are generally handsome fishes, and scarcely inferior to the Trouts in flavour. When newly taken from the water, they emit a peculiar odour, resembling that of thyme. They do not appear to be migratory.

ON COMBINATIONS OR UNIONS.

WAGES are not dependent upon the will of those who pay them; nor is a master always able to pay his workmen as large wages as he and they would desire. There are various reasons for this. It may be, that a master's profit does not admit of his expending more than a given sum in wages; and the capital he has invested in the construction of his farmbuildings, purchase of his implements of husbandry, if he be a farmer, or of his mill machinery, if he be a manufacturer, oblige him to require a remunerating interest for the money he has laid out. In fact, wages can only be altered by changing the proportion between the number of labourers, and the fund set apart for their maintenance.

But workpeople, in the manufacturing districts, with a view to raising the ordinary rate of wages, have, of late years, resorted to the expedient of unions, or combinations and strikes, to effect their object. It is proposed to show you with what bad effect these strikes and combinations have been attended, both to workmen and to their masters; but, more especially, to workmen.

A union is a combination of work people against their masters to carry some particular object; this is, generally, to force up wages; on the presumption that masters are able, if they choose, to give a higher rate than they do but these unions have often other objects in view besides this one. Sometimes they would dictate to their masters when and by whom they shall get their work done; sometimes they would prevent them from taking apprentices; sometimes they would prohibit them from paying their work people by the piece, and insist upon all being paid at a particular rate of day wages, irrespective of the work done being bad or good.

The following examples will show you with how little success their efforts to raise wages by these means have been attended :

In the year 1810, the spinners in all the mills in the neighbourhood of Manchester, including Stockport, Macclesfield, Staley-bridge, Hyde, Oldham, Bolton, and Preston, turned out, and 30,000 people were thrown out of employ. Their object was to raise the wages in these country districts to a level with those in Manchester. Now, it so happens that in Manchester, wages have always been, and must of necessity always be, higher than in the surrounding places; and for the following reasons: First, all the yarn and goods that are made in England are sent to Manchester to be sold; and thus Manchester enjoys facilities for obtaining raw cotton hardly equalled by any other town in the kingdom. Secondly, there also the principal machine-makers reside; therefore, master manufacturers can get their machines at less expense there, than others who live at a greater distance. Thus they can afford to pay their men at a higher rate; but the

country masters are deprived of these advantages, and are consequently obliged to reduce the wages of their workmen to a lower rate, as otherwise they would be unable to get the same profit on their capital as the Manchester manufacturers; and without this, they must cease working; for, it is merely the average rate of profit they obtain, and their ability to get their work performed at lower prices than at Manchester, that is the condition of their remaining in the business at all. On the occasion in question, 4d. was paid in the country districts for spinning a lb. of cotton, and 4§d. in Manchester; and to raise the country wages to this latter sum was the aim of the union.

But the attempt proved a signal failure, as from its folly and injustice it was right it should. After four months of misery, during which time the hard-earned savings of years of industry were consumed, and furniture, clothes, and every article of comfort or convenience were disposed of, these misguided men were obliged to return to their work, not at the rate of 4d., which they had been previously earning, but at 2d.; thus submitting to a reduction of 50 per cent. on those wages, to raise which every thing but existence had been staked.

In 1824, all the cotton spinners in Hyde turned out for an increase of wages but this time it was much against the will of the workmen; the committee of the union to which they belonged insisted upon it. The result of this strike was, that the men, after enduring the greatest hardship, came back to their work at the same wages which they had turned out to raise. In 1830, 3000 spinners at Ashton and Staley-bridge left their work, by which fifty-two mills, and 20,000 people, at least, were thrown idle for ten weeks. At the end of that time, they returned to their work at the same wages they had previously been receiving.

Such has been the result of these attempts to force up wages. Now, look at the consequence of the efforts of the unions to effect some of the other objects mentioned above.

A union in Leeds required of a manufacturer in that town to pledge himself to weave and spin all the cloth he made upon his own premises, on pain of a strike; and, moreover, besides having none of it done in the neighbouring villages, as had hitherto been his custom, to pay the workpeople the prices they demanded. The master consented; but, what did he do next? He immediately reduced his manufacture two-thirds, took in work of a different description; and, consequently, his weavers' earnings were reduced from 17s. to 7s., and his spinners' from 27s. to 10s. After enduring this for three months, his workmen petitioned him to recommence manufacturing as before; but he refused to comply with their wishes.

Another master in Leeds employed a considerable number of workhouse children, who were learning their business at the factory. It did not suit the purposes of the union that these children should be thus employed; and having found that one of the overseers was a butcher, they threatened him with the loss of all his custom if he did not prevent the children from working in the interdicted factory. The overseers yielded, the children were withdrawn from their employment, and the parish had to pay the whole charge for their maintenance.

THE GOODNESS OF GOD, EXEMPLIFIED BY THE HAPPINESS OF HIS CREATURES.

IT is a happy world after all. The air, the earth, the water, teem with delighted existence. In a spring noon, or a summer evening, on whichever side I turn my eyes, myriads of happy beings crowd upon my view. "The insect youth are on the wing." Swarms of new-born flies are trying their pinions in the air. Their sportive motions, their wanton mazes, their gratuitous activity, their continual change of place without use or purpose, testify their joy, and the exultation which they feel in their lately discovered faculties. A bee amongst the flowers in spring is one of the most cheerful objects that can be looked upon. Its life appears to be all enjoyment; so busy, and so pleased; yet it is only a specimen of insect life, with which, by reason of the animal being half domesticated, we happen to be better acquainted than we are with that of others. The whole winged insect tribe, it is probable, are equally intent upon their proper employments, and, under every variety of constitution, gratified, and perhaps equally gratified, by the offices which the Author of their nature has assigned to them. But the atmosphere is not the only scene of enjoyment for the insect race. Plants are covered with aphides, greedily sucking their juices, and constantly, as it should seem, in the act of sucking. It cannot be doubted but that this is a state of gratification. What else should fix them so close to the operation, and so long? Other species are running about, with an alacrity in their motions, which carries with it every mark of pleasure. Large patches of ground are sometimes half covered with these brisk and sprightly natures. If we look to what the waters produce, shoals of the fry of fish frequent the margins of rivers, of lakes, and of the sea itself. These are so happy, that they know not what to do with themselves. Their attitudes, their vivacity, their leaps out of the water, their frolicks in it (which I have noticed a thousand times with equal attention and amusement), all conduce to show their excess of spirits,

and are simply the effects of that excess. Walking by the sea-side, in a calm evening, upon a sandy shore, and with an ebbing tide, I have frequently remarked the appearance of a dark cloud, or, rather, very thick mist, hanging over the edge of the water, to the height, perhaps, of half a yard, and of the breadth of two or three yards, stretching along the coast as far as the eye could reach, and always retiring with the water. When this cloud came to be examined, it proved to be nothing else than so much space, filled with young shrimps, in the act of bounding into the air from the shallow margin of the water, or from the wet sand. If any motion of a mute animal could express delight, it was this; if they had meant to make signs of their happiness, they could not have done it more intelligibly. Suppose, then, what I have no doubt of, each individual of this number to be in a state of positive enjoyment; what a sum, collectively, of gratification and pleasure have we here before our view!

The young of all animals appear to me to receive pleasure simply from the exercise of their limbs and bodily faculties, without reference to any end to be attained, or any use to be answered by the exertion. A child, without knowing anything of the use of language, is in a high degree delighted with being able to speak. Its incessant repetition of a few articulate sounds, or, perhaps, of the single word which it has learnt to pronounce, proves this point clearly. Nor is it less pleased with its first successful endeavours to walk or rather to run (which precedes walking), although entirely ignorant of the importance of the attainment to its future life, and even without applying it to any present purpose. A child is delighted with speaking, without having anything to say, and with walking without knowing where to go. And, prior to both these, I am disposed to believe, that the waking hours of infancy are agreeably taken up with the exercise of vision, or perhaps, more properly speaking, with learning to see.

But it is not for youth alone that the great Parent of creation hath provided. Happiness is found with the purring cat, no less than with the playful kitten; in the arm-chair of dozing age, as well as in either the sprightliness of the dance or the animation of the chase. To novelty, to acuteness of sensation, to hope, to ardour of pursuit, succeeds, what is, in no inconsiderable degree, an equivalent for them all, perception of ease.' Herein is the exact difference between the young and the old. The young are not happy, but when enjoying pleasure; the old are happy when free from pain. And this constitution suits with the degrees of animal power which they respectively possess. The vigour of youth was to be stimulated to action by impatience of rest; whilst to the imbecility of age, quietness and repose become positive gratifications. In one important respect the advantage is with the old. A state of ease is, generally speaking, more attainable than a state of pleasure. A constitution, therefore, which can enjoy ease, is preferable to that which can taste only pleasure. This same perception of ease oftentimes renders old age a condition of great comfort; especially when riding at its anchor after a busy or tempestuous life. It is well described by Rousseau, to be the interval of repose and enjoyment, between the hurry and the end of life. How far the same cause extends to other animal natures, cannot be judged of with certainty. The appearance of satisfaction, with which most animals, as their activity subsides, seek and enjoy rest, affords reason to believe, that this source of gratification is appointed to advanced life, under all, or most, of its various forms. In the species with which we are best acquainted, namely our own, I am far, even as an observer of human life, from thinking that youth is its happiest season,