poor-law and
the tariff, I think we shall be by that time in as picturesque a state
of poverty as the most critical stickler for nationality would
desire.
A NUT FOR "A NEW COMPANY."
By no one circumstance in our social condition is a foreigner more
struck than by the fact that there is not a want, an ailing, an
incapacity for which British philanthropy has not supplied its remedy
of some sort or other. A very cursory glance at the advertising
columns of the _Times_ will be all-sufficient to establish this
assertion. Mental and bodily infirmities, pecuniary difficulties,
family afflictions, natural defects, have all their separate _corps_
of comforters; and there is no suffering condition in life that has
not a benevolent paragraph specially addressed to its consolation. To
the "afflicted with gout;" to "all with corns and bunions;" to "the
friends of a nervous invalid"--who is, by the bye, invariably a
vicious madman; to "the childless;" to "those about to marry." Such
are the headings of various little crumbs of comfort by which the
active philanthropy of England sustains its reputation, and fills its
pocket. From tooth-powder to tea-trays--from spring-mattrasses to
fictitious mineral waters--from French blacking to the Widow Welch's
Pills--all have their separate votaries; and it would be difficult to
conceive any real or imaginary want unsupplied in this prolific age of
contrivance.
A gentleman might descend from the moon, like our clever friend, "The
Commissioner," and, by a little attention to these plausible
paragraphs, become as thoroughly John Bull in all his habits and
observances as though he were born within St. Pancras. "A widow lady
with two daughters would take a gentleman to board, where all the
advantages and comforts of a private family might be found, within ten
minutes' walk from Greenwich. Unexceptionable references will be given
and expected on either side." Here, without a moment's delay, he might
be domiciled in an English family; here he might retire from all the
cares and troubles of life, enjoying the tranquil pleasures of the
widow's society, with no other risk or danger, save that of falling in
love with one or both of the fair daughters, who have "a taste for
music," and "speak French."
It is said that few countries offer less resources to the stranger
than England; which I stoutly deny, and assert that no land has set up
so many sign-posts by which to guide the traveller-
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