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conservatories, and greenhouses, in very unexpected corners, are innumerable. The freedom of vegetation gives encouragement to planters. It is some times even touching to see a tree, which has been spared in the building of five-storey warehouses, alive in its dusty and dingy recess, and fulfilling all its calling of bud, blossom, smiling green leaf, and fruit-bearing. I have looked on such a tree, and compared it to a Christian choked up in worldly society and occupations, yet drinking in the pure dew of the Divine Spirit, living and refreshing the surrounding dreariness by his presence.
The seclusion of mind is a subject on which I have often mused, with admiration of the wisdom that has so constructed it. The looker-on cannot tell why one in the busy multitude that flits by him laughs and another weeps. And it is well that he cannot. The inmost heart of himself contains evil enough for each. And even its hidden joys are such as might exhale, were they open to the bystander.
Who of all the interested parties that I have happened again and again to see pressing into a “ Bank for Savings,” or seated on the stoop to wait their turn to enter, could guess why I should be fixed to the spot, or why my tears should flow at the sight ? My mind flew back to the peaceful parish of Ruthwell, and there I saw the mild and patient pastor* calculating, and planning, and writing rules, * Rev. Dr Duncan, author of the "Sacred Philosophy of the Seasons."
and correcting them and at last setting agoing his new scheme of a bank, where as small a deposit as one shilling was to be accepted. Then I saw him smiling good cheer as he stood by his desk, with his great ledger before him, while he received the hardearned saving from the horny hand that earned it. And again I saw him subduing his natural love of retirement, and struggling to awaken the great men of the land to the value of the scheme. And then again in London toiling to secure supporters for passing a bill in Parliament for the protection of savings' banks.
And all this was past—and he who for years laboured for the temporal and spiritual welfare of his people has ceased from his labours. But they have spread-and as it fell out in Solomon's day, that “no man remembered the same poor man whose wisdom saved the city," so it befell him, while cities and nations far off are profiting by it. Even so! he sought not fee nor reward here, but
“I thank Thee for the quiet rest
Thy servant taketh now,
And for his crowned brow."
HOTELS AND BOARDING-HOUSES.
HOTELS are generally well managed, and in excellent order. In frequenting the temperance houses, the traveller is sure of society of one stamp, so that the conversation he may enter into will be of a correct, and very likely of an improving character. .
The wholesome “click” of the ice against the water-pitchers has something re-assuring in its quiet sound; and the gong, giving forth its musical tone, first in the distant part of the parallelogram, then swellivg nearer, till it passes along the gallery where your own chamber is situated, and then again sinking into silence at the further end, summoning all who will to family worship, gives cheering token that you are in good society. It is very pleasant to meet three or four score of travellers in the saloon by seven in the morning, and nine at night, to join in a hymn, led perhaps by a son or daughter of the house, accompanied by an organ-toned pianoforte. Then to hear a passage of Holy Writ, read perhaps by the master of the hotel, and to join in a prayer by him, if no clergyman be present, or by a clergyman, without reference to his denomination, or, as I once chanced to hear, by a senator. How calm and safe the progress of a day so entered upon!—and how orderly is such a household, even though it numbers at its noonday meal nearly two hundred guests ! Enough has been said by English travellers about the amazing celerity with which Americans despatch their food, and of the knife nearly going down the throat after it. Though I had no chance at the race in eating, I generally saw many persons as slow, or slower than myself. One day, being at leisure to observe the proceedings of my neighbours, I saw a very respectable-looking lady reduce one half of an oval slice of bread to the shape of a horse-shoe by one goodly bite that she took out of the middle. This lady introduced herself to me in the saloon, and-0 Dickens! 0 Trollope! can ye bear the dismal truth?—she told me she was a Londoner! Here ended my discoveries as to peculiarities in conduct at table. A gentleman did tell me, that he saw, at a New York hotel dinner, one person give his fork to another, with, “ Just stick that fork into that potato for me, will you ?”. His surly, unneighbourly neighbour did as he was requested, and left it sticking there. This was a most ungracious way of teaching a hasty man to apply to the waiter-yet it might be useful.
Waiters are always abundant, so that you never hear them rung for or called in an impatient tone. They are there, and know what you want as soon as you do yourself. In Gadsby's, at Washington, their mute observant attention-one black man ministering to the wants of two whites—was really too affecting. One could not eat-one wanted to get up and set them down and wait on them. They were not paid for their services. They were not volunteers in your cause. They could not go away if you ill-used them. They were slaves! They looked sleek and tranquil, however, and are in general under mild treatment in the district of Columbia.
In a country where everybody travels, the com.. forts and reasonable charges of hotels are important. Some of the arrangements are new to the English. There is, generally, with the transient visitors, a mixture of those who make a permanent residence in the house. These are not only bachelors and young clerks, but young married people. Those who prefer to see what is going on linger in the saloons of an evening after leaving the eating-room, when it often happens that a musical guest, or a : professional person, will play and sing for the entertainment of the company. You find as many newspapers as can be rescued from the reading and smoking rooms, and a few books, and sometimes ladies have their work. It is hardly deemed courteous to write letters in the saloon, and no provision is made for that in the way of material. At best, it is an idle life. People seem waiting for something that rarely comes, in the way of disembarrassed con