Bertie tried to forget his school troubles and mortifications, and did not attempt to darken his mother's pleasant anticipations of better times to come, when her boy, treading in the steps of his father, would advance, step by step, and regain for himself and his sisters their lost prosperity. Who could tell but he might become a partner in the firm, as his father had been before him? Stranger things than that were coming to pass every day. All he had to do would be to try hard and work hard, and bear present inconveniences, and make himself so useful in all sorts of ways as that they could not do without him. 'But, mother," said Bertie, "I am not there yet. I suppose I am to go to school again. I wish that was over." And then came another motherly exhortation to patient industry, and the oft-repeated fallacy which somehow has gained a footing among other fallacies, that "school-days are the happiest days," and so forth. And Bertie did not contradict it. It would have been a heavy bribe to have tempted him to say how miserable a place school had lately been to him. angels of mercy, to deliver a message of peace; and dying, as we gaze upon them, to teach us how feeble and fragile are the loveliest and the brightest of all created things. The universal love for flowers in this great metropolis is a passion that admits of no question, but the proof of which greets us daily in our walks. Even in the smoky resorts of the city, the choicest productions of the conservatory and the garden are visible, during the season, in every street and almost every house. The very back-slums and abodes of the poor are green with dusty mignonette or lanky geraniums without ą blossom, lifting their tops towards the light of the sky; and if we walk into the suburbs, we find the residences of the comfortable classes brilliant with hues that are never spread on a painter's palette or on the arch of the rainbow. In this respect the aspect of modern London differs immensely from what it was a generation back. Then, the myrtle (now almost an exploded plant), a few old-fashioned geraniums, and hyacinths in coloured glasses, with here and there a ranunculus, constituted nearly the whole of the portable garden which adorned the window-sills and balconies of our sires-or rather of their better halves-for at that time of day flowers were held to be beneath the notice of gentlemen. Now, so widely has an improved taste No, it was not a very wretched Christmas to the Graftons, for it brought friendly tokens with it. There was the nice little plump turkey (carriage paid) all the way from Mr. Nelson's quiet parsonage in the country, and the pleasant, cheerful let-extended, that almost every new house of any preter which accompanied it; and there was the box of oranges from the senior partner, without the letter; and there was the rich plum-cake from Mrs. Blanque, which greatly altered Lotté's opinion of that lady, while Harry said what a good thing it was, and something remarkable as well, that the presents fitted so nicely together, and that there had not been three turkeys, or three boxes of oranges, or three plum-cakes. So Christmas passed away, and the new year came. Bertie went back to school, and Mrs. Grafton renewed her daily walks through frost and snow, and rain and fog, and drizzle and dirt, to Blank House, Blank-row; and felt how much better that was than unavailing, paralyzing sor row. FLOWERS IN LONDON. tensions to comfort has its conservatory appended to it, and a new class, or rather many new classes, of traders and dealers in flowers have risen up to meet the growing demand for them. Walking some time ago in a fashionable district at the West End of the town, we came suddenly in front of a spectacle transcending in beauty and brilliancy all that we had ever seen or imagined in floral luxuriance. It was a family residence about sixty feet in height, and not less than thirty in width, the entire street-front of which, from the roof to the pavement, was one enormous and magnificent bouquet. From the battlements to the kitchen-window, level with the road, the whole was a monster flower-stand, crammed in every part with the finest specimens which the horticultural art could produce of the productions of all climes, all growing in pots and arranged in shelves one above another, concealing the whole of the brickTHE love of nature is not to be trodden out of the work and nearly the whole of the windows of the human heart by the conventional forms and usages mansion. Their delicate odour filled the street. of the world. Amid the most matter-of-fact and The passion for flowers, of which the above even repulsive aspect of business, with all its tur-remarkable demonstration is the greatest existmoils and anxieties, its annoyances and discomforts, the idea of her simple grace and loveliness will intrude and claim a place and find a welcome. The contemplation of beauty is to the millions, who perhaps are but very partially conscious of the fact, a necessity of their lives; and a very benevolent necessity it is, for more reasons than we have space to mention-and for the reason especially that it prompts every right-minded man to harmonize his own conduct with the ideal which nature exhibits, and silently admonishes him that his actions, to be beautiful, must be good and honest and true. It is impossible to say to what extent the exquisite flowers that summer sheds in profusion around our path are our friends and benefactors. They speak a language that all understand, and love to listen to-coming, like from ing proof we happen to know of, betrays itself in quets for wedding parties adroitly packed in tins, and sent by express trains into the heart of Scotland, at the charge of a guinea each: their stems being embedded in moist wadding, they arrive perfectly fresh after their journey, and often travel hundreds of miles after the feast is over, borne off as presents by the guests. In the immediate neighbourhood of London are grown the finest flowers of all kinds that our climate can be made to produce; and so active is speculation in this branch of commerce, that the growers will give almost any price for a new specimen-and few indeed are the rarities in the Royal Botanical Garden, which have any claims to floral beauty, which may not be bought for a price in the nurseries surrounding the capital. It is owing to this commercial value of flowers that the gardens throughout the country, both public and private, present such a different appearance to what they did thirty years ago, and are so wonderfully enriched by new treasures. When the fuchsia, now a favourite with every | cottager, first came to this country-hardly more than twenty-five years back-fortunes were made by its cultivation, five guineas each being demanded and received for thriving roots, which may now be bought for sixpence. Though the rose will not flourish well very near the city, yet roses are grown by the acre at no great distance, and their leaves are sold to the chemists by the hundredweight for the extraction of the attar, the most exquisite of all odours, and the most expensive. Moss-roses are retailed in the streets in immense numbers, by women, who, in the precincts of the Inns of Court or of the Exchange, and in the more gentlemanly resorts of business, find a continual demand for them. The violet, naturally a spring flower, has been transformed by the spirit of commerce into a perennial one, and the violet-girl accosts you at all seasons of the year, even in the depth of winter, with her dark-blue posies buried in scraps of letterpaper. Wall-flowers, cabbage-roses, pinks, and carnations, etc, etc., mingled with sweet-smelling herbs, come to town in wagon-loads, and find a place in the street-markets along with the roots and vegetables of the humbler classes, and are as readily and as certainly purchased by them as the greens and turnips for the Sunday's dinner. A dealer, standing on the kerb-stone of a frequented thoroughfare, will sometimes, on a favourable Saturday, sell from three to four hundred bunches of mixed flowers at a penny a bunch. It is no marvel that the attempt to cultivate flowers should grow out of this general partiality in their favour. In consequence of this attempt, London plays very much the part of a general cemetery for the floral race. Millions upon millions are brought here from year to year to die. So soon as winter shows signs of retreating, come the cheap spring roots-primroses, polyanthuses, London-pride, and all that cottage-garden tribe so dear to the lovers of the country-side. These are cried about the town in hand-carts, and are followed soon after by flowering roots--early geraniums and rising seedlings. The travelling gardener pursues his trade throughout the summer, and is always welcome, notwithstanding the awkward fact, that-from one cause or other, partly no doubt from doctoring, to get his flowers earlier to market-his merchandise is astonishingly short lived. Looking to our own dealings with this worthy-for we cannot do without flowers-the residuum of ten years' commercial transactions with him resolves itself into ten plants, two dead a:.d three dying of this year's purchase, and a hundred or so of empty pots buttressing the dust-box in the garden. Having the disadvantage of smoke and soot to contend with, it seems strange that a dweller within the sound of Bow Bells should enter the lists against the floriculturist of the country, and compete with him for the prize at the flower-show, which occasionally comes off in the neighbourhood. Yet he does it, and, as we can testify, is often successful, as we have seen him carry off the prize more than once against all competitors. We had no idea, however, until properly instructed on the subject, of the labour and watchfulness entailed upon one who undertakes such a competition in a suburban garden of some forty feet by twenty. Our informant, who carried off a dahlia prize, did not allow himself, for the last three weeks preceding the show, to sleep more than an hour and a half at a time. Twice every three hours during the night did he descend to the garden in his night-gown, and, lantern in hand, examined every leaf and spray of the flower in training, in search of slugs or earwigs, a single nibble from either of which would have ruined his hopes. He told us, with breathless interest, that he only saved his credit at last by catching a piratical earwig in the very act of assaulting his flower as the quarters chimed halfpast two that very morning. The poor fellow wrought sixteen hours a day at shoe-making, but he declared he should hardly have forgiven himself if he had allowed the earwigs to defeat him. We look upon the growing love for flowers as an evidence that we are getting on in a morally right direction. In the "good old times," when bull-baiting was a popular sport, and badgerdrawing a gentlemanly pastime, there were no popular flower-shows; and the recreations of the artisan classes were more marked by the love of cruelty than the love of nature, which flowershows are calculated to impart. The increase of public extramural cemeteries, where flowers are always planted in profusion, and droop their beautiful petals over the dead, may be one cause why we have learned to prize them more than we did. May we prize them more and more; and may our words and deeds be flowers, and smell sweet and blossom when we are dust. THE REMARKABLE YEAR. UPWARDS of seventy years have elapsed since the period to which we are about to refer; and, of course, there are not at present many survivors of those who were then in being. Stragglers are here and there to be met with whose birth goes back beyond that date; but very few of these have any distinct recollection of the events of the time. It was a remarkable era. The third George had been twenty-two years upon the throne. riotous son and successor had just completed his majority, and taken his seat in the house of lords. The reluctant acknowledgment of the independence of the United States was a very recent occurrence. His Fox and Pitt were the orators in parliament. The strange coalition between the former and lord North transpired at the epoch, while Pitt became prime minister of England, the youngest the country has ever had presiding over its interests. In addition, the first petition to the legislature on the subject of the abolition of slavery was presented by the Society of Friends. Crabbe, the poet, had secured the friendship of Burke, and was looking hopefully upon the future; Cowper was meditating the "Task" in his summer-house at Olney; Gilbert White was studying natural history in the parish of Selborne; and Dr. Johnson was smitten with paralysis, which, with other complaints, speedily brought him to the grave. We mention these incidents simply to mark the period, for not for political transactions or celebrated personages was it so remarkable as for natural phenomena, which render the year 1783 the most extraordinary, of which any knowledge has been preserved, in the history of Europe and the northern hemisphere in general. We have never met with any grouping of its events; but they deserve a chronicle, which may not be uninteresting to the reader. Early in the year, the earthquakes occurred which desolated the two Calabrias and the parts of Sicily adjacent to the continent. They continued for upwards of three months, during which time the ground was in a state of almost constant tremor. The more violent and destructive shocks were those of February the 5th, 6th, and 27th, March 1st and 28th. Through a considerable area of the district mentioned, the entire country was laid waste, and every town and village was destroyed. The surface heaved, and then yawned in fissures, some of which immediately closed, engulfing property and persons. Hills slid into the plains; other land altered its level; vast masses of cliff fell on the coast; streams disappeared; and fresh fountains were opened. With resistless fury the sea broke upon the shore, rushing far inland and as violently retiring. The prince of Scylla and his people, fearing that the rock on which his castle and town stood might be detached, left it for the beach, and were swept away by one of these tremendous waves. At the first shock, about noon, the quay of Messina sank considerably, and the city was half ruined. At night, with a bright moon in the heavens, the scene was strikingly picturesque and mournful. Serenity and splendour aloft formed an impressive contrast with confusion and havoc beneath. The sum total of the mortality, according to returns made to the Neapolitan government, amounted to between thirty and forty thousand lives. Upon nature resuming her wonted calmness in this district, violent disturbances from volcanic activity broke out in another quarter-the south of Iceland. The preceding winter had there been unusually mild, and nothing seemed to foretel the approaching danger till the spring months were passing away. It was towards the end of May that a light blueish fog was seen floating along the surface of the ground. This was succeeded in the beginning of June by earthquakes, which increased in intensity till the 8th of that month. At nine o'clock, on the morning of that day, numerous pillars of smoke were noticed rising in the hill-country towards the north, which, gradually gathering into a dark band, obscured the atmosphere, and, proceeding in a southerly direction against the wind, involved the whole district of Sida in darkness, showering down sand and ashes to the thickness of an inch. This cloud continued to enlarge till the 10th, when fire-spouts were ob served at a distance in the mountains; and on the 12th it was known that the Skaptar volcano was in eruption. A current of lava then burst forth, and continued to flow till July 20th. It filled up the beds of streams, consumed the vegetation, and seventeen villages were obliterated by the fiery torrent. From its length, breadth, and depth, it has been calculated that the mass of matter ejected, if spread over the coal-fields of Great Britain, would cover them with a coating of basaltic rock twenty feet thick, or produce a mountain rivalling the Peak of Teneriffe if accumulated on the site of our metropolis. This is perhaps the most enormous mass of matter ever ejected by a volcano during a single period of activity. Owing to the immense thickness of the volume of lava, it was years in cooling. Mr. Stephenson, who published an count of the Eruption," at Copenhagen, found it so hot, twelve months afterwards, that he could not cross it; and it was then sending up a thick smoke or steam. After the lapse of ten years, it still retained an elevated temperature, emitting vapours in various places, and many of its crevices were filled with warm water. The subterranean outbreak was not confined to the dry land, but invaded the channels of the great deep. An island was formed by the elevation of its bed, of which the king of Denmark took possession, denominating it Nyöe, or the New Island, though in the course of the following year it subsided, and the ocean resumed its former dominion on the spot. The physical convulsions, and the consequent horrors of famine, are stated to have destroyed, in the space of two years, 9336 human beings, 28,000 horses, 11,461 head of cattle, and 190,488 sheep. "Ac Coincidently, dry fog appeared-a far more extensive and inexplicable, though comparatively harmless, phenomenon. It was observed over the whole of Europe, from Sweden to the north of Africa, and over a great part of northern Asia and America. It was first seen at Copenhagen, May 29th, after a succession of fine days; in other places it was preceded by a gale, and in England by continuous rains. At La Rochelle, the fog was noticed on June 6th and 7th; at Dijon, on the 14th; and almost everywhere in Germany, France, and Italy, from the 16th to the 18th. On the 19th it was seen at Franecker and in the Pays-Bas; on the 22nd, at Spydberg in Norway; on the 23rd, at St. Gothard and at Buda; on the 24th, at Stockholm; the 25th, at Moscow; towards the end of June, in Syria; and the 1st of July, in the Altai mountains. This misty veil continued nearly a month, obscuring the light of sun, moon, and stars, and giving to universal nature "a dim and sickly eye.' The air of the lower regions did not appear to be its vehicle, for at certain points it came with a north wind and at others with east and south winds. Travellers found it on the highest summits of the Alps. Abundant rains and the strongest breezes did not dissipate it. Its density was in some places so great, that the sun was not visible in the morning till at the height of twelve degrees above the horizon. During the rest of the day the solar orb appeared red, and the eye could readily encounter his beams in the meridian. The smoke, as some meteorologists called it, was accompanied with a disagreeable odour. Its most distinguishing property from ordinary fogs, which are generally very damp, was its dryness. Finally, it seemed to be endowed with a kind of phosphorescent virtue, or inherent light; for, according to many observers, it shed a lustre even at midnight, which they compared to the light of the moon at full; and it was new moon at the period of observation. maidens in Olney; though not so many as have happened in places not far distant, nor so violent." Gilbert White records the exemption of Selborne from storms, while the whole of the surrounding country was continually harassed with them. 66 66 The heat at times was intense. Butchers' meat could hardly be kept a single day. Wasps appeared in myriads. Flies swarmed in the lanes and hedges, rendering the horses half frantic, and riding irksome. Honey-dews," says White, were so frequent as to deface and destroy the beauties of my garden. My honeysuckles, which were one week the loveliest objects that eye could behold, became the next the most loathsome, being enveloped in a viscous substance, and loaded with black aphides, or smother-flies." Cowper, writing from Olney, June 13th, thus refers to the condition of the atmosphere:--" The sun continues to rise and set without his rays, and hardly shines at noon, even in a cloudless sky. At August came, and brought with it entirely difeleven last night the moon was a dull red; she ferent phenomena. On the 18th, at sixteen miwas nearly at her highest elevation, and had the nutes past nine in the evening, one of the largest colour of heated brick. She would naturally, I and most brilliant meteors appeared, travelling the know, have such an appearance looking through a atmosphere with immense velocity, and illuminatmisty atmosphere; but that such an atmosphere ing all objects to a surprising degree. It came should obtain for so long a time, and in a country from the direction of the northern ocean, for it where it has not happened, in my remembrance, was seen in the Shetlands, and passed over Scoteven in winter, is rather remarkable." In another land, where it was observed by general Murray letter, June 29th, he states:-"We never see the at Athol House, as nearly vertical as he could sun but shorn of his beams. The trees are scarcely judge. It proceeded a little westward of the zenith discernible at a mile's distance. He sets with the of Perth and eastward of Edinburgh, over the face of a red-hot salamander, and rises (as I learn western parts of Northumberland and Durham, from report) with the same complexion. Such a through the middle of Yorkshire, and then deviatphenomenon at the end of June has occasioned ing to the eastward, traversed Cambridgeshire, much speculation among the connoscenti at this Suffolk, and Essex. It crossed the channel between place. Some fear to go to bed, expecting an earth- Ostend and Calais, was seen from Brussels and quake; some declare that he neither rises nor sets Paris, and still holding on its course to the southwhere he did, and assert with great confidence ward, described a track of at least a thousand miles that the day of judgment is at hand." Gilbert over the surface of the earth. The meteor was White remarks:-"By my journal I find that I first noticed as a luminous ball, as large as the ad noticed this strange occurrence from June 23 moon, but infinitely more brilliant. Disrupting to July 20 inclusive, during which period the wind on its progress, it seemed to cast off successive varied to every quarter, without making any alter-sheaths of fire, and scatter lesser meteors-an apation in the air. The sun, at noon, looked as blank as a clouded moon, and shed a rust-coloured ferruginous light on the ground and floors of rooms, but was particularly lurid and blood-coloured at rising and setting.' He also mentions the superstitious fears of the country people at the extraordinary aspect of the sky, as ominous of some great natural catastrophe. Similar apprehensions were largely shared by the Parisians. To quiet them, Lalande, the astronomer, addressed a letter to one of the public journals, in which he attributed the fog to the quantity of electricity developed during a very hot summer, succeeding to a moist winter. Others supposed, and the impression was pretty common, that our planet was entangled in the tail of a comet. A third surmise was, that the obscuration was simply the smoke projected into the air by the Icelandic volcanoes, which the winds dispersed through the atmosphere. In addition to this cause, considering the great physical commotions at two opposite points, it is not improbable that gaseous vapours, of an unknown nature, might proceed from the bowels of the earth, through the numerous fissures in its solid covering, producing the general dimness. Heavy showers and electric storms were common in England while the fog prevailed. "We have had," says Cowper, "more thunder-storms than have consisted well with the peace of the fearful pearance caused by the combustion of the separated parts. The longest period of visibility scarcely exceeded a minute. Herschel, one of the observers, watched it at Windsor for from forty to forty-five seconds. Its height was estimated at fifty miles, and its velocity at more than twenty miles a second. Crabbe, another eye-witness, was riding over a wide open common near Beccles in Suffolk, accompanied by Miss Elmy, his future wife. A dull, cloudy sky added to the gloom natural to the advanced hour of the evening. But in an instant the dark mass seemed to open just in front; the clouds were rolled back like a scroll; and the glorious phenomenon burst forth. "My mother," says the poet's son and biographer, "who happened to be riding behind, said, that even at that awful moment (for she concluded that the end of all things was at hand), she was irresistibly struck with my father's attitude. He had raised himself from his horse, lifted his arm, and spread his hand towards the object of admiration and terror, and appeared transfixed with astonishment." Another meteor appeared in the evening of October 4th, of inferior size and lustre, but remarkable for its intensely bright blueish colour. These incidents are referred to by Cowper in his well-known "Task," a poem which was then commencing, where they serve to point an appropriate moral: 66 Since there is need of social intercourse, Benevolence, and peace, and mutual aid, Between the nations in a world that seems To toll the death-bell of its own decease, And, by the voice of all its elements, this part of the Thames, we discover many picturesque beauties; especially do we like the look of the weir which crosses the stream just by this first lock in the river, over which the waters come roll To preach the general doom. When were the winds ing down like a mimic cataract, making gentle Let slip with such a warrant to destroy? Have kindled beacons in the skies; and the old Though the events of 1783 are not peculiar in themselves, their aggregation in the cycle is so, rendering it one of the most remarkable years of ancient or modern times. BANKS OF THE THAMES. VI.-HAMPTON COURT. MOST courteous reader, we hope you are not so weary of our company as to be indisposed to step into our boat this fine summer's morning (no fear of such an accident as befel Mr. Pope and the lady), and proceed with us up the river to the grand old palace of Hampton. At Kew, in our former rambles, murmurs, which melodiously mingle with the song of the bird and the chirp of the grasshopper, and the occasional lowing of the oxen in yonder green fields, forming altogether, we were going to say, a picturesque concert. Before we can reach by water the palace of Hampton, whither we are bound, we must take a long circuit; for here the river winds about, so as to take us miles further than we should have to go by the road. But the river breezes and the cheerful airy banks compensate for the loss of expedition, to be gained by traversing the dusty and confined turnpikes, or even the stately drive through Bushy Park. The banks are low and the country flat from Teddington to Kingston, yet all the way the stream is pleasant. We must not linger about this town on the Surrey side, which is joined by a bridge to the opposite bank. The railway has improved it, increased the inhabitants, and stimulated a little bustle in the place, but has taken off its former quiet, oldfashioned look. From Kingston we go up to Thames Ditton, a pleasant little retired village, with charming resi dences all round, and, like Teddington, a favourite place of resort for the disciples of Isaak Walton. It may be mentioned that the river Mole, after we passed the site of another palatial residence, associated with many interesting reminiscences of George III and his court. That palace has now disappeared; but for this there is little matter of regret, as its meagre outline bore no resemblance to the stately pile which we are now about to visit. We embark at Teddington, that tempting name for a little etymological criticism. But we, like Dr. Syntax, are on a tour in search of the picturesque, and therefore must deliver up these dry questions into other hands. As elsewhere, on watering the county of Surrey, falls into the Thames close to Ditton. The right bank of the river, all the way from Kingston to Hampton Court Bridge, forms the boundary of the palace park, which is guarded by a wall concealing its beauties, but suggesting thoughts about the lordly domain, the extent of which it so plainly indicates. There is a pretty picture this year in the Exhibition, entitled, " King Charles in his happier Days," representing the royal barge, and the king and queen and the young princes feeding the swans, and a black |