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loved her, and asked her whether she would
be his wife, and she consented.

"Look up, dear Mary," said he. " In spite
of all that we have gone through, we may still
be happy, if we will. Trustfully, whatever
may befal us, let us walk together, hand in
hand, through life. And for the sake of
Annie, and for your father's sake, but chiefly
because I love you dearly, I shall delight to
cherish and protect you all my days. Oh,
believe me, there is nothing for which I am
more thankful to Heaven, than that it has left
me you, without whom life were desolate


WE walk about the surface of our globe,
tread the hot flagstones of its towns, or crush
the soft grass of its forests, bathe on the
margin of its seas, float on its rivers, look
abroad from its mountain-tops, and. like good
common-place folk, here we say we are in
town, there by the sea-side, there we are in
the country. We walk into Leicester Square,
and enter a neatly made brick packing-case,
look at the world boxed up in a diameter of
sixty feet, and say, Ah, here is a colossal
Globe! here is a work of beauty! what a clever
man its maker, Mr. Wyld, must be! I, Jones,
have entered Leicester SquareI, Jones, and
Tomkins, my companion; we have paid our
shillings, and have entered the neat building
in Leicester Square, where we perambulate
the corridor between the outer wall and the
convex surface of the contained Globe. It is
pleasantly fitted up as what Tornkins
denominates an interesting and instructive
promenade, profusely filled with maps and globes.
My friend ignores the attendant shopman,
and magnanimously refuses to regard this
corridor as a mere branch of Mr. Wyld's shop
in the Strand. I tell him that I look upon
the entire undertaking as a shop transaction,
and thereupon Tomkins warns me how
ungenerous it is

         " To look upon a work of rare devise,
           The which a workman setteth out to view,
           And not to yield it the deserved prize
           That unto such a workmanship is due."

Tomkins, I answer, it is no discredit to a work
like this that it has emanated from a shop.
Of all years, the year 1851 is that in which
the dignity of trade ought least to be
forgotten. Trade may be made mean by its least
worthy votaries, and so may law, or physic,
or divinity; but traders are the fertilising
bees that flit with pollen on their wings among
the barren branches of the world, and make
them fruitful. The intellect of man is scattered
abroad for increase by the hands of commerce.
Take away from England ships and shops,
what will remain, Tomkins? When I call the
erection of this Globe a trade speculation, I
neither degrade the work nor exalt the
department in which it is classed: the house of
trade is noble, and this work is worthy to be
born of such a house.

Where are we now ? says Tomkins. Must
we tear up this boarding that we stand upon
to get a view of the South Pole? Where's
the South Pole, I say? Holla, waiter! I say;
South Pole directly, if you please?—Sir, says
a gentleman with a wand, you had better
commence your examination from the top;
and he points up-stairs, and we go up to a
landing with bits of the world, cosmical
fragments, all about us, seen through the wood-
work of a thick central pagoda of four stories
in height. We mount to the next landing,
and the next; gentlemen with long sticks,
whom my friend Tomkins persists in calling
waiters, are standing by the railing which
runs round the edge of each stage, at a
distance of ten feet from the model, pointing
out, rapidly, the items of the bill of fare.
Under the balustrade of each landing there
runs a circle of gas jets with reflectors: these
illuminate the model. We are on the top-
most landing, and my friend Tomkins looks
curiously to see how Mr. Wyld has solved the
question of an open Polar Sea. A judicious
hole in the model there admits a ventilator;
except the door in the Pacific Ocean, by which
we entered, and this ventilator, the model, I
believe, is air-tight, and the heat reflected on
all sides from the concave surface rises to
make a little Sahara of the North Pole
station. Tomkins, on the point of fainting,
stops the gentleman who is discoursing on the
course of Franklin, with a scream of " Waiter,
ice! " He is indignantly informed that no
ice is to be had at the North Pole; he must
go down into the corridor. On our way down,
finding it somewhat cooler within the tropics,
we remain there to wonder at the world.

The modelling of the Earth's surface within
rather than without so large a Globe, involves
no possible misunderstanding, or apparent
inconsistency. It is, in that respect, neither
more nor less than a wall map. Instead
of having one large square map hung up in a
room, we have a room made globular, and a
map of the whole world evenly spread over
it; so that all relative distances and sizes
can be kept, and the whole picture be seen
without distortion.

Perfect, isn't it, my boy! says Tomkins, as
we lean over the railing, and look down on a
continuous expanse of land and sea.—Beautiful,
admirable, I reply; but perfect it is not.
Ah, mutters Tomkins, that fellow wants
enthusiasm! Well, Jones, name your drawback,
and have done with it.—In the first
place, then——— First place, eh ? How many
places more?—I am not discontented, Tomkins.
Perfection is a myth. I only mean to point
out, in this instance, what the drawbacks on
perfection are. In the first place, I do not get
so much of the Earth's surface at a glance as I
had been led to expect. The heavy wooden
scaffolding is greatly in the way of our eyes.
A lighter iron edifice, with open, floors, would