Hammersmith Suspension-bridge, hanging so gracefully across the broad stream, breaks up for a while romantic remembrances of the past. It meets us as a sign of modern improvement-as a symbol of that spirit of scientific mechanical eontrivance which now sweeps across the deep flood of our present civilization. And that steamer tug, with a chain of four or five barges in tow, hissing, foaming, roaring, and rattling, after a fashion which would have terrified Sir Nicholas Crispe that tells of progress too, albeit not with the elegance of style in which the Suspension-bridge expresses it. Steam is revolutionizing everything, and is sweeping away all old modes of conveyance from road and river. Coaches are gone; wagons are disappearing; the boatmen by Putney-bridge now have little to do; and, at last, even the towingpath is beginning to be deserted. How we have enjoyed watching a team of horses slowly measure ing their steps beside the rush-covered shore, let ting the long rope or chain now and then drop into the water, and make a silvery sun-line! How we have looked at the solitary barge, with the steers man, and perhaps his child, sitting on the hatches, drinking in the calm restfulness of the surrounding scene. Our Putney waterman, who rowed us up the river-for do not think, honourable reader, that it would satisfy us to make our sketches for you on board of a steamer-tells us we must not look for towing horses henceforth on this side Windsor at least, and he predicts that very soon even beyond that point they will not be seen. Arrangements have been made for steamers to ply between Windsor and London, that they may whirl the wherries all the way, in a few hours and for a few shillings. So another element of rural picturesqueness is melting out of existence. The poetry of the past is on the wane. But that which takes with one hand pays with the other. Steam is working magnificent marvels. It now appeals to the imagination. What may it not yet do? Is it not part of the poetry of the future? Hammersmith Mall, with its shady trees, tells of Dr. Radcliffe and Sir Samuel Morland, and at the little inn bearing the sign of the Dove, it is said the poet Thomson wrote and the duke of Sussex smoked. Soon we come to an isle or ait in the midst of the stream, just opposite some pretty lawns and handsome old houses, forming part of the village of Chiswick. Here we must land and take a turn in the churchyard. But what have we here?"This wall"-so runs an inscription pointed out by our valuable topographical friend, Daniel Lysons" this wall was made at the charges of the right honourable and truly pious lord Francis Russell, duke of Bedford, out of true zeal and care for the keeping of this churchyard, and the wardrobe of God's saints, whose bodies lay therein buried, from violating by swine and other profanation; so witnesseth William Walker, v. A D. 1623." This notice throws a curious light on the state of the highways at Chiswick two centuries and a quarter ago; but there are abundant facts recorded to show that it was no uncommon thing in those days for streets, especially rural ones, to be infested literally by a swinish multitude. The allusion to the "the wardrobe of God's saints" is very grave as beautiful, and quite in the style of thought and expression characteristic of the times. It is a touch of real poetry, inspired by the Book which alone reveals the true nature and sublime relation of the grave. It suggests many reflections as to the garments of mortality which are to become robes of everlasting strength and beauty to those who are "saints," through the redeeming power of "the Resurrection and the Life;" and so it may serve as a salutary preparation for a ramble among the grassy hillocks and the marble cenotaphs which thickly cover the whole churchyard. The tomb which is most conspicuous, and at the same time most interesting, is that which rises over the remains of Hogarth the artist, who lived and died in the village. Of course, as we look at it, thoughts come respecting the wonderful achieve ments of his pencil, the vivid life-like power of his pictures, their deep meaning even in the minutest points, their moral tone and purpose, and their his toric value as pictorial comments on the age in which he lived. And other thoughts come too, such as invariably visit us while we stand under death's gateway and look into the charnel-houseeven thoughts touching the person whose mortal garments only are lying in "the wardrobe"thoughts in reference to him now, as a being living still in a world of most absolute reality. What are the thoughts and feelings of a Hogarth, or of any other departed man of genius, in his present sphere of existence? How looks he on the world now? From his present point of vision, how does human life appear? An imaginary transfer of our consciousness, for a little while, to that realm of being, and an endeavour to judge of things in that upper light, will be of immense moral service to us all. But here is an epitaph on Hogarth, by Garrick: "Farewell, great painter of mankind, Who reach'd the noblest point of art; Whose pictured morals charm the mind, And through the eye correct the beart. If genius fire thee, reader, stay; If nature touch thee, drop a tear; If neither move thee, turn away, For Hogarth's honour'd dust lies here." This is an ingenious collocation of vocables-a dexterous weaving of words into a clever epigram. matic pattern, such as suited the taste of the eighteenth century -a compliment paid to the dead, in the shape of what might have been called at an earlier period a pretty conceit; but it wants the real pathos, the soul-stirring energy, the spiritual power, the insight into the world on the other side as well as this, which should ever quicken men's thoughts and language at the mouth of the grave! Besides Hogarth, Sharpe the engraver is buried in Chiswick churchyard; so also is lord Macartney, of Chinese fame, and Ugo Foscolo, the famous Italian patriot and man of letters. In the burial register, among other celebrated names, are the countess Falconbridge, the third daughter of Oliver Cromwell; the traveller, sir John Chardin; and lord Holland, father of Charles James Fox. The church itself is by no means remarkable. The tower is of the fifteenth century; the rest has been much altered and disfigured. There are several monuments in the interior. The mansion of the duke of Devonshire is, of course, the great lion of Chiswick. And when it is remembered that this, famous as it is, is only one of seven palace-like abodes* of this princely nobleman-another of which, at Chatsworth, has been so recently noticed in these pages-the recollection gives a most imposing idea of his abundant wealth and his high rank in the aristocracy, not of England only, but of Europe and the world. As almost everybody knows, Chiswick-house was built originally by the earl of Burlington, of architectural fame, nor is it a bad specimen of the palladianvilla style. Almost everybody also knows that little bit of wit fastened on it by lord Hervey, who said it was "too small to inhabit, and too large to hang to one's watch." True enough, it must have been strangely small in its first dimensions, but a good deal has been added to it by the duke of Devonshire; and as to the insinuation of its ornamental character being quite of the petty kind, we certainly consider it unfair and looking as if it proceeded from a splenetic feeling-for, both with out and within, it never could have been otherwise than a specimen of grandeur, though on a small scale. The elevated portico, with its double flight of winding steps, and the lofty cupola crowning the building especially with the wings added to the original Burlington plan-give the edifice an air of considerable magnificence; and as we now see it, we are not struck with any great defect in point of extent. very fine busts and other classical' antiques, all from Rome-proofs, like the rest, of the wealth and taste of the builder of the house. But, more than all, one room, which is entered' from the saloon, interested our mind. It is covered with tapestry representing a Flemish harvest-home, and the ornaments of the ceiling and the style of the bed contribute to give the chamber an aspect of great and even solemn magnificence, befitting the event which here took place, and which has invested the spot with an historical character. It was in that bed that Charles James Fox breathed his last. The present worthy housekeeper was living at Chiswick then, and she informed us how well she remembered the sad event: how the statesman came to this beautiful· retreat about three weeks before his death; how he suffered from the dropsy, and was repeatedly tapped; how his old political friends gathered around him, and wept as they witnessed the terrible advance of his disease and the rapid approach of his end; and how, at last, he died in their presence, leaving them, as he did, to cherish his name, as much for the warmth of his affection as the bril liancy of his genius and the eloquence of his lips. Another room, at the top of the house of a very different description, being as simple and cheerful as the one just referred to is grand and sombre-has also an historic interest as the deathchamber of another great statesman; for here it was that George Canning departed this life, having, like Fox, come to Chiswick for change of air and retirement. The housekeeper, of course, remembers that event, and with full feeling she described to us how plain it was that the illustrious minister was at the time broken down by the cures of office and the fierceness of political strife. Almost to the last did the messengers come with the red boxes full of papers, and visits were paid, and conferences with him were held, by his distinguished associates in office or friendship. It will be recollected how strongly Mr. Canning felt in reference to Portugal, where he was sent as ambassador in 1814; and it would appear that his interest on behalf of that country was most gratefully regarded by some of its refugees, for on visiting this mansion, as we were informed by the intelligent housekeeper, they sought out this chamber where he expired, and on entering it burst into tears. We had been prepared to anticipate much splendour within the house; but we must confess, that our anticipations were exceeded. To say nothing of a range of summer parlours-some fitted up like tents, and others adorned with chaste designs transported hither from the Vatican, the whole suite being intended for the accommodation of visitors when the duke gives his brilliant fêtes the dining and drawing-rooms, with the long saloon extending from end to end, struck us as exceed ingly magnificent in style and decoration. The ceilings are as superb as carving and gilding can make them; the furniture and ornaments are costly, curious, and elegant; but the collection of pictures exceeds all the rest in taste quite as much as it does in value. There is no private gallery, perhaps, in the neighbourhood of London equal to it. The pictures are not merely very numerous, with some exceedingly fine ones amidst others of an inferior character, but the whole of them are But we must leave the house. The grounds and good, very good. With few exceptions, they were gardens are very extensive, and are well laid out. purchased by the earl of Burlington, and they They exhibit a remarkable blending of the antique do great credit to his judgment as a connoisseur and the modern, the classical and the rustic. Old in paintings. The Italian masters predominate. walks, guarded by lofty hedges, cut straight and There are some glorious works by Andrea del smooth like stone walls, still remain, in which the Sarto, Dominichino, Salvator Rosa, Leonardo da beaux and belles of the court of George I would Vinci, Tintoretto, Guido, and Guercino. These are find great delight; and beautiful open lawns and all such as to deserve long study; and the only vistas, and other arrangements according to landthing one laments in looking at them is the bad scape gardening of a more tasteful age, unfold position in respect to light in which some happen themselves on every side, forming an appropriate to be hung. As specimens of other schools, you background for pictures of happy groups of the have pictures by Rubens, Rembrandt, Ruysdael, fair and frank at the Chiswick fetes now-a-days. Teniers, Wouvvermans, Velasquez and others; nor The disposition of the trees, forming the view to the is the Pre-Raphael wanting. A quaint old picture south-west, struck us as exceedingly picturesque; by Van Eyck, in the saloon, is sure to attract atten-nor can one fail to admire the gigantic cedars, both tion. Then, beside the pictures, there are some They are Chiswick, Chatsworth, Devonshire-house, Hardwick, Bolton-abbey, Lismore-castle in Ireland, and Brighton. in back and front, which seem to have been planted before the house was built. Classic statues and busts are placed here and there, relieving thick masses of foliage behind and above. There are wolves by Scheemaker, and Roman emperors dug out of Adrian's garden, and stone seats said to have been in the forum of the imperial city; and to finish, rather than crown, our enumeration, we may mention a gateway by Inigo Jones, erected by him at Chelsea, and presented-an odd present by the-by-by Sir Hans Sloane to the earl of Burlington. The gardens are kept in exquisite order, and the green-house is full of beautiful healthful plants; but for the duke's botanical curiosities, as well as for his lordly magnificence in the horticultural line, you must go to Chatsworth. temporary visitation, while the fever was like a destroyer always lurking in the neighbourhood, and, from time to time, appearing in forms so ma lignant as to resemble rather the plague of old times than the fevers of modern date. Without going into all the statistics of the village "in the fever-times," we may close the statement with one general fact; namely, that in a population of rather more than 500 persons, not less than sixty cases of fever, all at the same time, have been known among men, women, and children; in some families five or six cases of malignant fever having been crowded together in a small cottage! Adjoining the grounds, and forming a part of his grace's domain, are the gardens belonging to the Horticultural Society, which on the grand exhibition days are thrown open to the public, and both from the display of plants and fruits, and the assemblage of rank and fashion, generally at-that-as so many ancient legends tell-some "huge tract a large number of visitors. But they are too far from the Thames for us to say anything about them here; so, returning to our boat, we proceed along the river past Barnes and Mortlake, which present nothing very tempting, on our way to Kewbridge, where, kind and candid reader, we shall be glad to meet you again, amidst modern scenes full of ancient memories. HOW TYPHUS FEVER WAS EXPELLED FROM OUR VILLAGE. A PAPER appeared not long since in the pages of our journal, entitled, "What Typhus Fever has done in our Village," and told a tale which, unhappily, is not yet obsolete; or, in other words, not "a tale of olden times," as it might be and ought to be. In corroboration of the principles advocated in that article, an intelligent correspondent has favoured us with the following simple narrative of facts, which are in themselves so clear and striking as almost to render medical theory and argument on the subject unnecessary. About four or five miles from Bedford, and not far from the river Ouse, lies the straggling village of C, formerly notorious as the haunt of typhus fever. One long lane, styled Water-lane, with groups of cottages irregularly scattered here and there, forms a considerable part of the village. The immediately surrounding land is almost a dead level; but hills rise in the neighbourhood. There is nothing in the locality that necessarily tends to the spread of disease. The soil is good and well cultivated, and a sufficient fall for drainage can be easily obtained. Yet, only a few years ago, this village was almost the fixed residence of typhus fever in its most malignant forms. If fever prevailed anywhere in the neighbourhood, Cgenerally and justly regarded as the head-quarters of the foe, and, in many cases, while the disease appeared in its milder forms in other places, it assumed at C a malignant aspect, carrying away children and heads of families, and sometimes destroying, in the course of a few weeks, a whole family. Few households could be found in the village in which the ravages of typhus fever had not been felt. In 1832, cholera seemed to find some especial attractions in the place, and raged here for some time; in one case taking away a family of four in a few days. But this was only a was In our journeys to the village we have sometimes reflected on the singular circumstance, that men are often impressed more by the forms than by the reali ties of evil. Suppose, for instance, we could believe dragon," or other destructive monster, had found a lurking-place near an unhappy village, and occasionally came forth, breathing pestilence and spread. ing destruction through the neighbourhood:--what excitement would prevail in the country! how soon we should attempt some exploit like that so graphically told in Schiller's "Fight with the Dragon," where the bold knight ventures into "The cavern dark and deep, By blessed sunbeams never lit: Supposing, for a moment, that a creature like that invented by poets existed, we may venture to say that no" dragon" could find safe lodgings in England. Then why should typhus fever? What were all the ravages of fabled monsters, supposing them true, when compared with the disease once so prevalent at C- and other places? But, it may be said, the fever depends on causes lying out of the reach of human agency, and, consequently, must be regarded as an inscrutable providential visitation." No! it is our purpose to prove, by facts, that the God of providence has placed in our hands the means of staying-yes, and we will add of terminating-the inroads of the disease. As surely as the dragon in old fable required his cave or lair "in rank fœtid swamps," so surely typhus fever must find a suitable locality for residence or frequent visits; and we have now to relate how the "lair" of the disease, if we may so speak, was found at C, and how, when its habitation had been disturbed, the destructive pestilence fled from the place. The facts will be suffi cient to show that the sanitary victory achieved at C-may as easily be repeated in other places. In the first place, attention had been directed, from time to time, to lime-washing the cottages, ventilation, and other measures of domestic cleanli ness; but still fever penetrated into cottages, however clean. The proprietors of dwellings very wisely enforced stringent rules against the overcrowding of families in small rooms. This un doubtedly did some good; but fever still prevailed! Its "lair" had not yet been disturbed. Vain were these measures of ventilation while the breath of the disease, malaria, entered at all points through doors and windows! Happily, the medical gentleman mostly employed in the village directed his suspicions to the true quarter. He observed, running along one side of the road, in Water-lane, a wide, open ditch, full in the rainy season, receiving water from the neighbouring hills, and in the dry season, laden with decomposing vegetable matter. In very dry weather, when the water had evaporated, the exposed bed of the ditch was found covered with a slimy and offensive mud. view and follow the same course as, that described in the case of C- -, typhus fever might speedily be banished from the homes of our rural population, and would, in the course of a few years, be known-like the black death, the plague, and other diseases of similar origin-only as matter of history. WALKING-STICKS.* In all ages man has made the sons of the forest contribute means of support under his weariness, weapons of defence from hostility, and sceptres or wands to display official dignity. The tiny babe will throw aside the most glittering toys to arm himself with an undecorated stick; the schoolboy will wander miles to ferret out from the tangled brake a tempting sapling of the ash or oak; and the wrinkled man of years has few better friends than the stout staff that supports his tottering steps. Many interesting references are made in the old testament scriptures to the use of the staff. The patriarch Jacob, when about to meet his brother, and filled with apprehension for the issue, in his prayer for divine protection, exclaimed, "With my staff I passed over this Jordan;" and it is not improbable that the same companion of his early troubles supported his dying frame when he wor shipped God and blessed the sons of Joseph. The simple shepherd's rod of Moses, more powerful than the sceptre of Pharaoh, was the appointed instrument for conveying the wrath of God to devoted Egypt, and for performing miracles of mercy to Israel. The rod of Aaron was for centuries preserved amid the mysteries of the sacred place, as a memorial of the divine appointment of the Jewish priesthood. The staff of Elisha was laid upon the body of the Shunammite's child to afford aid in restoring him to life. Homer describes the Grecian heroes as "sceptre-bearing princes," and represents Achilles saying: "I will swear a great oath, even by this sceptre which shall never again bear leaves or shoots, nor will bud again from the time it left its trunk upon the mountains, when the axe stripped it of all its leaves and bark.” Here was the 'lair" of typhus fever! Vain all whitewashing, ventilation, separation of crowded inmates of cottages, and other partial sanitary FEW of the numerous appendages of personal commeasures, while the general, ever-active cause of fort and utility can boast a higher antiquity or disease remained unaltered! The medical attend-greater historical interest than the walking-stick. ant, therefore, at once stated his belief that here, in this open ditch of stagnant water or muddy refuse, was found the source of the malignant disease which had so long made this village notorious as the haunt of fever. Happily, attention to the fact and co-operation for the health of the village were promptly afforded as soon as the truth had been stated. The medical attendant represented his opinions to the duke of Bedford, who immediately commissioned his intelligent steward to make inquiries into the case and devise remedies. The water from the hills was diverted into a new channel cut through the fields; the ditch in Water-lane was filled up, and, in connection with this main benefit, a considerable area of garden-ground was added to the neighbouring cottages. At the same time, strict attention was paid to other points of sanitary regulation. Some of the older cottages were pulled down, and new and more roomy dwellings were raised, with improved ventilation and more conveniences, while over-crowding was strictly prohibited. And, no v, what has been the result of these measures? Only one case of typhus fever has been known in the improved village; and, let it be remarked, that case was contracted at a distance from C, and the young man who was its victim merely came there to die. This was an extreme case of typhus fever; but it did not spread, and no other cases have since occurred. About three years have elapsed since the above improvements were made. In the memory of the oldest inhabitant, C had never been free from typhus fever for any such space of time in the days when the ditch lay open. A more satisfactory result could not have been anticipated. The contrast with the former condition of the village is altogether too clear to be regarded as accidental. And the facts of the case are surely enough to establish our assertions that typhus fever requires for its spread certain conditions-that these conditions, especially stagnant and putrid water, may be removed-and that, by these simple measures, the destructive pestilence may, with God's blessing, be banished from a neighbourhood. The case deserves to be made generally known, as an encouraging instance of what can be effected by co-operation. Many thanks, too, are due to the proprietor of the estate, the duke of Bedford, for his prompt, liberal, and kind attention to the suggestions offered by the medical attendant of the poor at C, and for having carried out in this village a part of his generous and magnificent plan for improving the dwellings of the peasantry. May other landed proprietors be induced to follow this example! If every large owner of land and villages would take the same These sceptres were not only the insignia of authority, but the ordinary walking-sticks of the Grecian magnates. Agamemnon is stated never to have gone forth without his paternal staff of royalty. Not less eminently was the walkingstick signalized in the celebrated enigma of the sphinx. This monster is said to have infested the neighbourhood of Thebes, ill-treating the passengers and committing many grievances. The oracle of Apollo gave forth that these evils would cease so soon as the following riddle had been solved: "What animal is that which goes upon four feet in the morning, upon two at noon, and upon three at night?" The solution was given by the hero Edipus: "That animal," he said, "is a man, in his infancy creeps upon his hands and feet, when he grows up he walks upon two feet, but when he who report of the Jury, Class XXIX, Great Exhibition, for some of The writer of this paper is indebted to the interesting the facts and figures it contains. enriched their refectory and other coffers, and gave a name to the town which grew upon its cultureSaffron Walden? In the same manner, a solitary silkworm found its way into the south of Europe, and made the wealth of the Italian valleys. So great are the advantages of travel, that there would often lurk beneath the contracted brow of the crusader purposes that expanded into deeds of the greatest utility. Upon a hook near the top of his staff hung the traveller's water-bottle, and the whole was surmounted by a hollow globe. A bunch of palm, tied round the head of the bourdon, denoted the traveller's return. These palm-leaves were the guerdon of the enterprise, and gave the name to the tribe-"Palmer." becomes old he uses the support of a staff, and so may be said to go upon three feet." The story illustrates not only the extreme antiquity of walking-sticks, but of riddles also. By the way, when at school, we never noticed that Edipts (so called from his swollen feet, as his name implies in Greek) doubtless possessed singular advantages in solving the enigma, from the painful necessity he experienced for the use of artificial feet or crutches. Diodorus Siculus informs us that the sceptre of the Egyptian kings bore the shape of a plough—a testimony confirmed by existing monuments, in which the long staff which forms the sceptre terminates in a shape obviously representing a plough. The land in which "every shepherd was an abomination" thus carefully stamped its ensigns with All the modern inventions which have been conan agricultural rather than a pastoral origin. cealed in sticks, swords, pipes, telescopes, maps, or Upon some of the monuments of Egypt, persons medicines, are but imitations of the palmer's invenin authority are depicted walking with tall, slender tion. Among many of this kind in the Exhibition of staves, crowned with the lotus, exactly as in our 1851 there was one stick which served the purpose own land wands are placed in the hands of those of a miniature wine-cellar and a larder, and others who conduct processions. And, among the dis- which contained severally a voltaic battery, subcoveries in that remarkable land, there have been|jecting the handler to an electric current-a colfound sticks with knobs and hooks for the hand,lection of maps-an umbrella-a camp stool, and which do not differ in the least from those in present use. A Ninevite monarch, upon one of the valuable marbles unearthed by Mr. Layard, bears in his hand a simple staff as the emblem of kingly dignity. It may be gratifying to our youthful readers to know that the ferula, now so spar- | ingly, but in the days of our boyhood so copiously administered, was equally well known, and for the same purposes, in the days of Pliny, and is called by Martial the sceptre of schoolmasters, similar conveniences. The traveller over the Alps is invariably equipped with the alpenstock, a stout pole six feet in height, spiked with horn to gripe the glassy road, and mounted with a chamois horn. An inventory of the contents of the royal palace at Greenwich, in the reign of Henry VIII, contains the following entries: "A cane garnished with sylver and gilte, with astronomie upon it. A cane garnished with golde having a perfume in the toppe, under that a diall with a pair of twitchers and a pair of compasses of golde; and a foot-rule of golde, a knife and a file of golde, with a whetstone tipped with golde." In the days when the enterprise, curiosity, or superstition of our countrymen urged them by multitudes on pilgrimage to the Holy Land, the None of the appliances of a man of fashion are roads of Dover, and indeed all the highways of the more given to change than the walking-stick. continent, were thronged with pedestrians, each Sixty or seventy years ago, canes were in use equipped with his bourdon-a strong, stout stick, which were as high as the gentlemen who burabout five feet high, with a spiked foot to aid its dened themselves with them; they are now only possessor in the ascent of steep and perilous places. to be found in the hands of the footmen who hang About a foot from the top was a handle to facilitate behind the carriages of the great on state occasions. a powerful grasp, or bring down from trees adjacent In our own time, we have heard the flag-stones in to the road refreshing fruit. Glad to avoid all en- Regent-street groan beneath formidable clubs, far cumbrance upon his lengthened journey, and "lay-more appropriate, in girth if not in height, for him ing aside every weight," the pilgrim skilfully contrived to make this staff almost the sole receptacle of his chattels. He was of the mind of the Romans, who rightly called trunks and baggage impedimenta, hindrances. Half way down the bourdon was a joint, which unscrewed and revealed the upper half hollowed for the reception of treasures. Here were the relics the wayfarer had purchased from the imposing guardians of foreign shrines; in this snug receptacle was the silent lute, which, as occasion served, would be drawn forth to earn a scanty meal in the towns through which he passed, or to charm the denizens of a wayside hostelrie. In this curious crevice, too, many a boon was smuggled which became a source of private wealth and even national advantage. Holinshed tells us, that in a pilgrim's staff was brought over from Greece the first head of saffron, at a time when it was death to take a plant out of that country. What price, we wonder, did the monks of Walden pay the bold adventurer for the rare treasure, which in course of time so much whose spear was like a weaver's beam than for the "Sir Plume, of amber snuff-box justly vain, |