Yorkshireman, the Local Parliament willingly voted
other prizes for the same purpose.

It would take up too much time to detail
all the good Governor's efforts by example,
by instruction, by rewards, by distribution of
books, and by the promotion of industrial
schools, to educate the rising generation of
Bermuda in useful, civilising arts.

A grand holiday, held in May, 1846, showed
that these efforts had not been without pleasant
and practical results.

Mount Langton and all the pleasure-grounds
created under the personal inspection and at
the expense of the good Governor, were
crowded with a noisy happy population, of all
ranks, all ages, and all colours, black, white,
and brown, assembled to enjoy and celebrate
the taking stock of the revived Industry of the
islands. Not equal in variety to the great
Parisian Exposition, or in quality to the
Royal Agricultural Shows, it was still an era
in the history of the colony.

The Queen's representative did not grudge
to give up for the occasion his private domain,
as that was the best site in the Island. Amid
the luxuriant shrubs and gorgeous tropical
flowers, the gay groups wandered; sweetly
the sounds of the regimental band
intermingled with the shouts and whip-crackings
of the contending ploughmen as they turned
up the brown furrows of long neglected soil,
and with the switching of twenty-five scythe-
men exhibiting their newly acquired skill on
the drained pasture of Langton Marsh. Below
lay the shipping in harbour, and far beyond
the golden purple ocean was dotted over with
the cloud-like canvas of the famous 'Mudian
craft. Almost at once one glance it was
possible to take in a view of the pursuits of
old and young Bermuda. Government House
was closed;—to have entertained the
thousands who had assembled (beyond the needful
supply of cold water found in huge jars and
tubs in every shady place, a provision so
grateful under a tropical sun,) was impossible;
to have entertained a part—an exclusive few
—on such an occasion, would have been
contrary to the Governor's principles; so for
that day all personal attendants were enabled
to share in the universal holiday.

In due time after the ploughing and mowing
matches, came the competition in turnips,
strawberries, potatoes, dahlias, barley, pot-
herbs, flax, and cabbages, and the parading and
comparison of horse-colts, ass-colts, calves,
heifers, bulls, sows, and boars.

Now, before the advent of this reforming
Governor, the Bermudians had been
accustomed to no other competition than that of
sailing or cricket matches or steeple-chases; to
no other exhibitions than military reviews;
all excellent in their way, but now usefully
varied by a kind of competition that brought
new comforts to every cottager.

Years have elapsed since the day of this well-
remembered fête. But the good Governor is
still affectionately remembered. The Bermudians
love to show passing strangers the
sweet orange-tree on Mount Langton which
still blooms a green and golden monument of
plain, practical, kind-hearted common sense.
And this sketch of a remote and insignificant
dependency has been thought worth
telling for the benefit, not only of colonial
Governors, but of well-meaning reformers in
all parts of the world. If we would do good
we must not be content with mere talk; we
must not disdain to commence at our own doors
by budding—a sweet orange on a bitter citron.

LONDON PAUPER CHILDREN.

HIGH and dry upon a pleasant breezy hill-
top about seven miles south of London stands
a house worthy of a visit. Far enough away
to be quite free from the cloud of smoke, yet
near enough for easy access from London; it
is a large house in the country, in and out of
which a large family of essentially London
tenants are perpetually going. Walk round
the hill it stands upon, and a succession of
charming views present themselves for
admiration. A far distant horizon bounds a
country made up of purple woods, rich golden
brown stripes of corn-fields, and bright green
meadows. Here young plantations; there
stately single timber trees; with villas nestling
under fringes of woods on pleasant slopes,
whilst in the valley below runs the Croydon Railway,
linking this charming, quiet country round
Norwood, to the smoky, busy, useful London.

The place we speak of is the Pauper-School
at Norwood, which may be called a factory
for making harmless, if not useful subjects,
of the very worst of human material—a place
for converting those who would otherwise
certainly be miserable, and most likely vicious,
into rational, reasonable, and often very useful
members of society;—in short, a house for
training a large and wretched class in habits
of decency, regularity, and order, and leading a
pitiable section of the great two-million-strong
family of London from the road to crime into
that of honest industry and self-respect.

The exterior of the building has no trace
of the architectural display that won for the
school near Manchester the title of a Pauper
Palace. The exterior of the Norwood house
is as dingy and ugly as a small brewhouse.
In shape it reminds one of the old cities,
built upon no definite plan, but enlarged from
time to time as the population found it most
convenient. It is neither square, nor round,
nor triangular; but then, when we go over it,
we shall find that the lack of straight lines and
right angles does not prevent the presence of
much good, and of a fair amount of comfort
and happiness within its confines.

The irregularity of its construction is
explained by the fact that the place was
established twenty-seven years ago, not by a public
body, but by a private individual, Mr. Aubin,
the present superintendant. The commencement
of such a place was an epoch in the