creatures
creeping along them, and the feeble sounds they send up, make me feel
grand. But when I turn my eyes to the heavens, I see no shadow of
change. The clouds look awful, as if despising my poor attempt at
approach; and they glide, and break, and fade, and build themselves up
again--all in deep silence--in a way that makes me feel mean. Now this
mean feeling is real poetry. The meaner I feel, the grander are they;
and when I look long at them, and think long, and then begin to
descend to the earth, to mingle with the little creatures who are my
fellows, I tremble--but not with fear.

A philosopher, do you say? Fie! don't call names: I am a bricklayer. I
know that such distance as human beings can climb to is but a small
matter. I see things as they are. I do not fancy that it is more
difficult to stand on a steeple than on a stool, or that it is more
difficult to hold on by a rope at one height than at another. I
observe that men and their affairs, when viewed from a steeple, are
very insignificant; but the same insight into things teaches me, when
I am among them myself, to pull off my cap and be affable. I know that
the things of earth change according to distance, but that the things
of heaven are unchangeable. And all I have got further to say is, that
I am quite sensible that although when up in the air I am a sign and a
marvel to the people below, when down among themselves I am but plain.

STEEPLE JACK.

FOOTNOTES:

[2] See article, 'A Child's Toy,' in No. 418.

FOOD OF THE ARCTIC REGIONS--FRANKLIN'S EXPEDITION.

A certain class of reasoners have argued themselves into the belief
that, setting all other considerations aside, Sir John Franklin and
his companions must have necessarily perished ere now from _lack of
food_. When the four years, or so, of provisions he took out with him
for the large crews of the vessels were all consumed, how, say they,
would it be possible for so great a number of men to obtain food
sufficient to support life in those awfully desolate regions? Let us
examine the question a little.

Men in very cold climates certainly require a much larger amount of
gross animal food than in southern latitudes--varying, of course, with
their particular physical constitutions. Now, let us grant--though we
do not positively admit it--that, however the provisions taken from
England may have been economised, they have, nevertheless, all bee