be KIDD'S OWN JOURNAL. stock of fun." This we know to be a fact. They are solid bores. As much fun as you please with the others, but let the mopers, we say, stay at home. these people sickening up, and slinking off, We hate to see (as they always do,) into corners, when they ought to be "jolly." Smiles and tears alternate in this world of ours. So let them merry while they may. Smile now, and cry by-and-by. There will be lots of opportunities. A-hem! A pic-nic party may consist of one dozen; two, three, four, or five dozen people-the more the merrier; and the expenses, when divided, will be proportionally less. Let there be an endless number of jetblack lustrous orbs; finely-arched foreheads by the score; dark eyebrows (“lash”-ing us | well); swan-like necks; Madonna frontis pieces; and joyous, merry voices; romps not a few, hoydens unlimited, and as many nimble feet and cherry cheeks as memory can call together. To meet these, invite all the agreeable, gentlemanly swains that yourselves, your friends, and your acquaintance can muster up-young and middleaged. Let there be no "drawbacks" or stumbling stones" invited, nor any persons of known jealous dispositions. Out with these, one and all, as leprous plague-spotsdangerous to themselves, and spreading infection dire on all around them. What! jea lousy or suspicion at a pic-nic party! Fie! Fie!! Out with the offender sans ceremonie. Hanging were far too lenient a punishment for such an unpardonable offence. 66 If the uninitiated should ask-what are they to do on such occasions ?-we answer, do as honest old Nature prompts; seek friends among the party, unbend your mind, and give a loose to harmless, innocent mirth. Many "pretty little things" will be sung and said. Some you will sing, some you will say. In turn, some 66 will be said to you. You will laugh, of 'pretty little things" course; why should you not? help it! You cannot No rules can be laid down for what to say, or how to say it. The art of success lies asterisks * * * * * * wood, Petersham, Bushy Park, or other such favored localities.* Of course all will not depart together. There will be an influx from ing at one spot,-some in cabs, some in "dogall parts of the country; pouring in, and meetcarts," sonie by boat, some by omnibus, some on horseback. All and each will be there-some by hook, and others by crook. We will not dwell on the hearty welcome, and merry salutations that fall on the ear of each happy "arrival." He or she will be "at home in an instant. free-masonry is peculiar to pic-nic parties. This sort of Let us now introduce some half-dozen be it known, are to signify the arrival of a large van, which has contained a most remarkThese, able selection of good things, all packed in hampers, boxes, tureens, and variety of baskets. an endless having peeped into the recesses of these We plead guilty to paraphernalia, and also to having "assisted" in the unpacking. frightened to attempt a catalogue raisonnée We should indeed be of their contents. (distantly), at hams, fowls, eapons, pullets, We may hint, however chickens, lamb, boiled beef, roast beef, tongues, sauces, pickles, cucumbers, lettuces, mysterious-looking pâtes,-beneath whose savory crust lay hid some indescribable delicacies; pigeons, &c. &c. &c. larger hampers, well stored with fruits of all As for the kinds, ices, jellies, and curious wines,-we must "say "little about these. The remem *Connected with Pic-nics, we may here mention Paris, domiciled, pro tem., at an extensive hotel, a little anecdote. Some four years since, we were in near the Madeleine. During our sojourn there, we Among them, one happy day, two new faces presaw many new faces at the table d'hôte daily. opposite side of the table), we fell in love at once. sented themselves. With these (they were on the One of these faces belonged to a lovely maiden, equally fascinating mamma. with auburn ringlets; the other was owned by her English. We hardly need say how soon we were They were both all at home." The ringing, happy, joyous laugh of "mamma's own child," soon reduced the distance between us. We all returned to England together; and, though before perfect strangers, we were soon registered as was in August. Our remarkable acquaintance proone of the family." This sixty at least were mustered-choice spirits! and in gressed. A grand pic-nic party was projected-some Epping Forest was laid the great scene of action. This may have assisted us in our remarks to-day. Let us, however, be precise upon all points. The heart of that young lady with auburn ringlets is not faithful watchman were we! We still, however, ours now. It has passed into other hands. We merely watched over it for the time being. Well; let us now take it for granted that laugh, that once made us so happy; and when we lay friendly claim to listen to the joyous, ringing the party is organised, and that the happy hear it "at home," in the family hall, we rejoice. place of rendezvous is appointed. This may May that heart never know sorrow, and may the be either Epping Forest, Penge Wood, Nor-owner of it be as happy as he deserves to be! In that continuous sweetness, which with ease On occasions such as these we are cele- A brance of that Champagne, that Hock, that Claret, and that Madeira, poured out, and shared with but no, we won't; we really won't! It is too much for us. We shall be "at it again so soon, that we will let our brain rest for the present, and drown the past in happy anticipation of the coming future. Pic-nics are now fairly "on." We have said nothing about the cheerful gossip on the road down. How some were laughed at for being up too early, and others too late. "How nice mamma looks!" and How Emily Lamb colored up, when William Cavendish compared her to a drooping lily, and asked permission to raise her lovely head!" &c. &c. This small-talk is sacred to the day, and ought not to be repeated. Happy faces, light hearts, good temper, cheerfulness, and innocence, these are the characteristics of the Pic-nic we describe. We are "immense" on such occasions; and we place our royal person at the immediate disposal of all who advocate our principles in these matters. We are "good" for fourteen hours at the least, and shall even then return home gleeful,—“ jolly.” It would be trenching on good manners, were we to attempt to proceed any further. We have hinted at everything that is needful. We have introduced the parties to each other. We have conducted them to their rendezvous. We have unpacked the treasures of the festive board. It is now for each one to endeavor to make the day pass pleasantly. It requires no effort. If the day be fine, happiness must be the issue. The day will close as it began with a multitude of smiling faces speaking, as plainly as smiles can speak, the feelings of the heart. MORE OF NATURE'S WONDERS. THE AZTECK CHILDREN. HAVE OUR READERS YET SEEN THESE If not, they should do so, for they are really VERY curious wonders of the living world? marvels in their way. There are two of these children, a girl and a boy. In the boy, the lower part of proportionately thick, and the nose a good the face much projects. The lips are disJewish aquiline. His eyes are dark and humid, affectionate in expression, and having a lively animal intelligence in every glance. His complexion is a rich dark olive, and his hair black,-falling in long curls. height is about three feet; his form slight and supple; his arms and hands are feeble and helpless-looking. His tics, but she is slighter and smaller. On The girl has nearly the same characteristhe whole, their appearance and actions are interesting. They run about the room with liveliness, and examine every new object with a passing curiosity. They cannot speak any language of their own, and only repeat a few words; but they easily understand routine questions. They are said to be 66 some of the descendants of the Aztecks-the race driven from Mexico by Cortes. Among that race there was a peculiar hereditary priesthood, and in course of time the exclusive intermarriage of the sacerdotal families caused the degeneracy of the race. But the popular veneration exalted the race from priests to idols; and in the present country of the Aztecks, these little beings are set crosslegged on altars, and worshipped. A rather children :--marvellous story is told of the capture of these In 1848, Mr. Huertis, of Baltimore, and Mr. Hammond, of Canada, attempted to explore Central America. They had read Stevens's account, in his Central America, of a conversation between himself and a priest residing at Santa Cruz del Quiche, relative to an unexplored city on the other side of the Great Sierra range, the glittering domes and minarets of which the priest averred having seen from the summit of the Sierra. The people, manners, and customs of this city, were supposed to be precisely the same as in the days of Montezuma. Messrs. Huertis and Hammond arrived at Belize in the autumn of 1848, and, turning south-west, arrived at Coban Pedro Velasquez of San Salvador, a Spaniard. on Christmas-day. They were there joined by From Coban they proceeded in search of the mysterious city. From Velasquez alone is any account of their travels to be obtained. Huertis and Hammond have never returned to tell their tale. According to the statement of Velasquez, on the 19th of May they reached the summit of the Sierra, at an altitude of 9500 feet, in lat. 15° 48' N., and beheld in the distance the domes KIDD'S OWN JOURNAL. and minarets of a large city, apparently of an Egyptian character, and about 25 leagues from Ocosingo, in the same latitude, and in the direct course of the River Lugartos. This city they eventually reached. Velasquez describes it to be of vast proportions, with heavy walls and battlements, full of temples, gigantic statues, and pagan paraphernalia; the people having Peruvian manners combined with Assyrian magnificence, and bound to remain within the walls, seeking no intercourse with the world around. The name of the city is Iximaya. The travellers were informed that white men had previously entered it, but that no white man had ever returned. Hammond and Huertis were both slain-the former in entering the city, the latter in endeavoring to make his escape. Velasquez, being more wary, lulled his captors into security, and not only escaped himself, but brought with him two children belonging to the priests-these very two. This tale may, or may not be true. WE question its accuracy. However, there is sufficient to gratify curiosity. There could be no deception whatever practised as to the little people exhibited. They are very animated in their looks, gestures, and movements, and both appear to be intelligent. They show an aptitude, too, for acquiring knowledge; possessing evidently the faculty of imitation in a considerable degree. seem to be in good health, and pleased with They the interest that is expressed for them. They have been seen by Frof. Owen, Sir Benjamin Bordie, Bart., Lord Rosse, Lord Brougham, and many other scientific men. These all pronounce the little fellows to be "curious specimens;" and so they are. They are money-getting folk, too. They get their living by being 66 looked at!" funny world truly! This is a IMPORTANCE OF LIGHT AND AIR. DR. MOORE, the eloquent author of " The Use of the Body in relation to the Mind," says,-a tadpole confined in darkness would never become a frog, and an infant being deprived of Heaven's free light, will only grow into a shapeless idiot, instead of a beauteous and reasonable thing. Hence, in the deep dark gorges and ravines of the Swiss Valais, where the direct sunshine never reaches, the hideous prevalence of idiocy startles the traveller. It is a strange, melancholy idiocy. Many citizens are incapable of any articulate speech; some are deaf, some are blind, some labor under all the privations, and all are mis-shapen in almost every part of the body. I believe there is in all places, a marked difference in the healthiness of houses according to their aspect with regard to the sun; and that those are decidedly the healthiest cæteris paribus, in which all the rooms are, during some part of the day, fully exposed to direct light. It is a well known fact that epidemics attack the inhabitants on the shady side of the street, and exempt those on the opposite side; and even in endemics, such as ague, the morbid influence is often thus partial in its action. OUR NATIONAL FAILING. that the national character of the English is pride, Ir cannot be denied, yet must it ever be lamented, and the meanest of all pride-purse-pride. Even a poor Lord is despised; and, to increase his fortune, a necessitous peer will condescend to marry into a rich citizen's family. affection for money—an idolatrous worship of gain, have absolutely confounded the general intellect, An overweening and warped the judgment of many to such an excess, that, in estimating men or things, they always it fetch ?" Were we to point out a person, as he refer to,- "What is he worth? passes, and say, or "What will who has not a vice"-he would scarcely be noticed; "There goes a good man; one he will be stared at till out of sight! but exclaim, "That man is worth £500,000," and do not attempt to alter them? We talk about with us; but money carries all before it. When A HINT TO PARENTS. happy circumstances than of an unhappy organisaBAD temper is more frequently the result of untion. It frequently, however, has a physical cause, correcting. Some children are more prone to and a peevish child often needs dieting more than count of qualities which are valuable in themselves. For instance, a child of active temperashow temper than others, and sometimes on acment, sensitive feeling, and eager purpose, is more likely to meet with constant jars and rubs than a dull passive child; and if he is of an open nature, his inward irritation is immediately shown litions by scolding and punishment, you only inin bursts of passion. If you repress these ebulcrease the evil, by changing passion into sulkia sympathy with his trouble-whenever the trouble ness. A cheerful, good-tempered tone of your own, has arisen from no ill-conduct on his part, are the best antidotes; but it would be better still to prevent before-hand all sources of annoyance. too happy. which all good affections grow-the wholesome Never fear spoiling children by making them warmth necessary to make the heart-blood circuHappiness is the atmosphere in late healthily and freely. Unhappiness is the chilling pressure which produces here an inflammation, there an excrescence; and, worst of all, the mind's green and yellow sickness-ill-temper. CHEERFULNESS. awakens a secret delight in the mind without CHEERFULNESS is like a sudden sunshine, that her attending to it. The heart rejoices of its ship and benevolence towards the person who has own accord, and naturally flows out into friendso kindly an effect upon it. T HAS BEEN SWEETLY "SUNG AND SAID" BY MARY HOWITT, in her "Birds and Flowers"-'things might have been so constituted, that the wants of man should have been supplied without the existence of a single flower.' Their creation, therefore, seems especially adapted and intended to promote the happiness of man. The love of flowers is one of the earliestdeveloped traits in the human character. Every child loves flowers. There seems a natural instinctive sympathy in the heart of childhood with the beauties of nature. We have all seen children in the country rush forth with bounding delight into the green meadows in April, on their weekly halfholiday, to gather violets and primrosestheir hearts as free from care as the birds that sing above their heads, and as happy as human creatures on earth may be. And we have seen the pent-up children of our metropolis, eagerly engaged in the almost hopeless quest of a stray flower blooming in the grass of the public park, and rejoicing over the discovery of one solitary golden buttercup, with more real joy than the emigrant feels when he finds a "nugget" of gold at the diggings. in jugs and basins. We find flowers in the factory and workshop, and even with the prisoner in his cell." The chemist has shown us that plants are essential to our physical existence, to purify the air and make it respirable; and they are no less indispensable to our moral life. The moral influence of flowers is as important, to say the least, as their material. And here comes the point of our connection with the subject. If the love of flowers is such an important and universal principle, and capable of being made great use of in the elevation of our race, it is no small part of our duty to direct attention to it, and to endeavor so to apply it that it may accomplish its end. For we are not of those who look on gardening as a mere system of means and appliances to grow long cucumbers, or pineapples, of so many pounds weight; or to train plants so as to win medals at exhibitions. We regard it rather as one of the many levers which are to help in raising mankind to a condition of comparative felicity. And we want to beg the earnest attention of our readers for one moment, to a few thoughts on its application to this purpose. Limiting ourselves to our own country, and the present day-let us ask, is that use made of the universal passion for flowers which, as an element in the moral and social regeneration of our people, it demands and will repay? We are not going to make But what have childhood, and its poetry, gardening the panacea for the nation's ills, and its innocent pursuits, to do with the cold any more than we can concede that honor to prose of a garden newspaper? Much, very temperance, education, or political reform; much, as we think. In the tastes of child- but we hold it quite unnecessary to prove, hood we hear the voice of nature. The that if the child's love of nature's beauties child's love of flowers is the exponent of a were developed in the man-that if they who beautiful fact. It tells us that the love of now spend their leisure time in the alehouse, flowers is inherent in human nature; for what or somewhere still worse, had the opportuis childish is natural, and the love of flowers nity and inclination to spend that time in is only like every other grace of humanity, cultivating their gardens, themselves and the in being most strongly developed in early community would be very great gainers by years, before contact with this rough and the change. cold world has blunted the sensibilities and chilled the affections. The taste for floral beauty is an essential element of humanity. When that humanity was in its pristine condition, that taste was strong, and yet amply gratified; and it is only as vice or misery hardens the heart that, like other virtuous principles, it falls to decay. As Charles Dickens eloquently said last year, at the meeting of the Gardeners' Benevolent Institution, "Men who have agreed in nothing else have agreed to delight in gardening. When we travel by our railways, we see the weaver striving for a scrap of garden-the poor man wrestling with smoke for a little bower of scarletrunners and they who have no spot of ground of their own will have their gardens VOL. IV.-3. A great deal has been done this way in some of the rural districts, of recent years. Clergymen and gentlemen have exerted themselves to induce their poorer neighbors to pay more attention to their gardens, by offering prizes for the best specimens of culture they could exhibit. All honor to such efforts! Marred in their success, as they have sometimes been, by what we shall call the patronising and pauperising spirit of their promoters, a thing as injurious to real benevolence as can be imagined; hindered as they have often been by other causes, they have done great good, and will do much more. But they must be more widely extended. Why have we not a cottagers' flower-show in every agricultural village? There ought to be one, and there might be one.* Let those whom it concerns, each in his own locality, say there shall be one. Nothing is wanted but interest and welldirected effort. The poor man would hail the establishment of such meetings with delight. They would be a relief to his toil, a break in the dull monotony of his life; besides bringing a few shillings into his pocket. This, not on the doubtful condition of having to humble himself and accept them as charity, but in connection with honorable superiority in the sight of his neighbors. But then, it is said, many cottagers have no gardens. This is really too bad, for we fear it must be admitted. They ought to have them. Land is not a thousand pounds per acre in the country. A good deal has been done, and a great deal more said, about improving the dwellings of the working classes. We are very anxious they should have good houses, but shall not be satisfied if they do not get also good gardens. If they want habitable houses for the sake of their bodily health, quite as much do they want gardens for their intellectual and moral health. Let our friends who take an interest in improving the habitations of the poor, keep this point in view. They will find their account in doing so. There is another class of poor-the operatives of our large towns. We may see that these are not behind their brethren of the rural districts in appreciation of floral beauty. For instances in point, you have only to look up to the window over your head, and there see a geranium, or fuchsia, or verbena, tended with all the care that can be given to it; though its life, withal, seems to be a continued struggle with adverse conditions. Or, see within the glass, a pot suspended to the ceiling, containing a plant of the "mother-of-thousands" (as it is termed), throwing its graceful festoons down the window, and forming a pleasant natural blind from the rays of the sun. The artisan and mechanic, and their palefaced children, love flowers; but how are they to enjoy them? They cannot, like the cottager in the open country, have gardens of their own. It is impossible. The only remedy we can see, is the establishment of public gardens. London is taking the lead in this matter. We have already our parks, and something in the shape of gardens at Kensington and St. James's; and soon we shall have our splendid park for the people, * We need not say how heartily we concur in the view taken by this amiable writer, who, in the pages of the Gardeners' Journal, is so indefatigable in insisting upon the supply of this great want. Flowers and gardens possess a degree of interest, which irresistibly win upon the better feelings of a man or woman; and we may observe their humanising effects daily.-ED. K. J. with its beautiful gardens, at Sydenham, thrown open to the toil-worn operative of the city. Every town, every aggregation of dwellings where land is too dear for every man to have a garden of his own, whether called a town or a village, ought to have its botanic garden-not merely a place for students to learn Latin names, and the fashionables of the neighborhood to loiter away an hour or two before dinner in talking of everything but what is before them and around them; but a place of public recreation, sustained by the people for the use of the people, and open to everybody, young and old. The English people only want to have such opportunities given them, to show that they can be trusted in such places-without notice-boards disfiguring every tree, and meeting the eye at every turn, or policemen everlastingly dogging their footsteps. As it is, the officials of our public gardens know very well that it is not the vulgar who are most given to these propensities; though they generally come in for the blame. " OUR MIRROR OF THE MONTHS. AUGUST. "Tis a fair sight, that vest of gold; To see the fields their produce bear,-- To view that wondrous, beauteous sight; NEVER HAVE WE HAD GREATER proof than during the present year, of the fickle changes of the seasons. The "oldest inhabitant confesses himself puzzled to "recollect anything like it." We have already noted the extraordinary character of April, May, and June; and July has hardly been less remarkable. We were speaking in our last, of the hay and the haymakers; and dwelling on the merry voices that were then rending the air in the fields round London. Scarcely was our ink dry, ere rain fell in ceaseless torrents; and in many places quite put a stop to the operations of the farmer and his men. July, in fact, dawned most inauspiciously. The first half of the month was more remarkable for clouds than for sunshine--for storms and the second half has hardly made amends for thunder, than for sun and brightness; and this. The last grand Floral fete, too, at Chiswick, was, as usual, productive of wet. The morning of the 9th ulto. was ushered in by torrents of rain that quite deluged the Gardens, and in every sense of the word cast |