a century old. We owe it, in fact, to steam-power, without which it was practically impossible to maintain a water supply at any considerable pressure, or what is called "high service." Cisterns are placed out of doors altogether, or just under the slates, where they are certain to be frozen over at the first frost. Leaden pipes, as certain to burst, are carried either outside the wall or just inside, or, what is really worse than either, insidiously within the wall, hidden by plaster and paint. It is not till several days after a thaw that the occupier of a handsome newly-decorated house can be sure that the papered or painted walls of his best bedroom or his staircase will not exhibit several square yards of damp, preliminary to a copious discharge. Householders are told, indeed, that they can obviate these evils by shutting off the water and emptying the cisterns at the first visitation of frost; but that is an odd way of meeting a bad arrangement. It is like telling a man who complains of the food furnished him, to do without it. Surely it is quite possible, and even easy, to arrange all the waterworks of any ordinary house so that they may be quite secure from any amount of frost that is likely to visit this country? One simple consideration will prove this conclusively. We all expect to maintain the internal temperature of our houses far above freezing-point. The internal temperature of our houses is sufficient for the purpose in question, and we can surely reckon upon it. All that is required is to keep the waterworks completely within the range of this temperature, and nothing can be more easy.

'A house in a London street has extraordinary facilities for the maintenance of a core of warm air in the centre from the basement to the roof. The smoke flues are in the middle of the party-wall, and it would always be easy to carry up by their side, in such a way as to share their

warmth, an air-shaft for the double purpose of containing the water-pipes, and supplying sufficiently warm air to the chamber containing the cistern. Such an air-flue, ascending from the back of the kitchen fire, would contribute an amount of heat sufficient to qualify very considerably the usual chill of our attics or garrets. The English are most wasteful of fuel and heat. They are so enamoured of the “fireside,” that they content themselves with piling on coal on the open grate as long as they can afford to buy it, at the very time that they go shivering to bed, and spend hours in bed-rooms carefully protected from the warmth of the family circle or the kitchen-range far below. The whole matter is one in which we have still to use our heads to save our coals, and study the economical warming of our houses. All that people usually think of is to make a big fire in a grate that will both retain heat and radiate it, and get rid of the smoke as quickly as possible. This is all very well as far as it goes, but it sacrifices the rest of the house, and creates very injurious inequalities of temperature. A little common sense applied to the matter from which we started the protection of the water supply from the frost -may be a step to more extensive improvements in our domestic architecture."1

1 Abridged from The Times.

PENNY WISE AND POUND FOOLISH.

A

HAT is Economy, is an inquiry which, by aid of our great lexicographer, may be answered as follows:-The management of a family; the government of a household; distribution and discretion of expense; frugality; laudable parsimony; regulation; and distribution of everything to its proper place. We have seen a cleverly written book, entitled Organization of Daily Life,-a vast subject, and really including nothing short of the whole ordering of human affairs, all which it would be difficult to comprise in a single volume; so that a single chapter will allow but of very brief treatment of so great a subject. Nevertheless, suggestive reflections may be acceptable and useful, even within this limit. After all, the kind of organization we would point attention to is of that kind which is popularly called management, or attention to contrivance in details. Every one is prepared to admit that there is great room for better organization; but there is little trouble taken in thinking over what we want, and what we might have in the way of organization, so extensive is the subject.

Nearly two thousand years ago it was said, 'Economy is a large income;' and this has been followed up by many a

more familiar remark. Shenstone the poet, who said many things oddly as well as gracefully, remarked, 'The regard one shows economy is like that we show an old aunt who is to leave us something at last;' and, 'May I always have a heart superior, with economy suitable to my fortune.' Again, it has been well said, 'Economy is the parent of integrity, of liberty, and of ease, and the beauteous sister of temperance, of cheerfulness, and health; and profuseness is a cruel and crafty demon, that gradually involves her followers in dependence and debt, that is, fetters them with "irons that enter into their souls." Dr. Franklin has thus plainly put the matter: "What maintains one vice would bring up two children. You may think that a little tea, or a little punch now and then, diet a little more costly, clothes perhaps a little finer, and a little entertainment now and then, can be no matter; but remember many a little makes a meikle; and further, beware of little expenses. A small leak will sink a great ship.'

Parsimony and economy are opposite lines of conduct, which in domestic affairs are too often confounded. 'Mere parsimony is not economy. Expense, and great expense, may be an essential part in true economy, or, in other words, be "cheapest in the end." Economy is a distributive virtue, and consists not in saving, but in selection. Parsimony requires no providence, no sagacity, no powers of combination, no comparison, no judgment. Mere instinct, and that not an instinct of the noblest kind, may produce this false economy in perfection.'

Economy is an excellent lure to betray people into expense. Now, the habits of household economy often lead to expense in a singular way. The liking to get things cheap leads to the love of bargains; and the knowledge that so many things are useful in a family, inspires a hope that

the most useless things may come in somehow. Of course the full price asked for a bargain is never given, and great determination and manœuvring are shown in beating down the bargainer; still, the bargain is bought.

Again, most remarkable is the tendency of each individual to practise some economy of his own. Every one has got his or her saving point, and clings to it in the oddest way. The object is not to save the money, for the same people will spend needlessly in two minutes all that their little pet economy could treasure up for them in the year. It has been said with some asperity, some men husband their wealth by the strictest economy and hoarding of small means, to expend it upon some flagrant lot of folly.

Mrs. Parkes, in her Domestic Duties, strongly reprehends the practice of bargaining, as it is a means of corruption to the shopkeeper. 'I make it a rule,' says Mrs. Parkes, 'never to employ a tradesman who will take a second price : a man who does so, confesses that he has asked more than the just value of his goods. I fancy, too, that a bargain seldom answers: it is far from being economical to buy things, the value of which is depreciated; and the remark of a friend of mine with regard to cheap goods is just: “I cannot afford," says he, "to purchase them."'

Artificial wants are the great source of such inconsistent conduct as the above; that is, the craving to possess something which is by no means necessary to our comfort; and it is extraordinary what privation some persons will undergo rather than give up some hobby. Then comes the old grievance of inadequacy of means, and grumbling at almost every distribution of the world's wealth. But there is no need of painful toil to those who begin prudently, and seek to supply none but real wants: wholesome labour is sufficient. If you wish to be happy, have a small house,