her countenance to him in the forest hiding-
place. Michal the younger soon grew up,
and had brothers and sisters, some of whose
children may be in Temeswar to this day.

CHIPS

A LESSON IN MULTIPLICATION.

IN the year eighteen hundred and one the
population of Great Britain was eleven
millions; not having doubled in the previous two
centuries. In the year eighteen hundred and
fifty-one the population was above twenty-one
millions; the doubling had taken place in half
a century. At the rate of advance now promised
us, our population may be, in the year nineteen
hundred, about fifty millions. The population
of the United States is likely, by the same time,
to reach the vast sum total of a hundred
millions. Want of space is sometimes talked of as
a likely result of the great increase of our
population; but British space is, for the
present, nearly as inexhaustible as British coal.
Allowing a square yard to every person, all
of us who at present live on native soil would,
if brought together, cover no more than seven
square miles of ground.

But it is no question with us now, how to
find space, but how to use it properly. Here
you may find people by twenties huddled side
by side in wretched cottages; there you may
find broad miles of fertile land without a speck
that indicates the dwelling-place of man.
Increase of numbers has taken place chiefly
in this country from the growth of town
populations; towns-people and country-people
(reckoning small towns as country) are at
present matched; there being ten millions and
a half of each. Nothing hindering, the towns-
people, fifty years hence, will be in a very
large majority. Towns that are now insignificant
and reckoned with the country, will
grow as Liverpool and Manchester have
grown, and will become, if all goes well,
great centres of population.

The change will not be a landowners'
grievance; it will be a conversion of so
much poor land into rich land; of land worth
tens or hundreds of pounds sterling per acre
into land worth hundreds or thousands. It
will be a multiplication of the means of
life more rapid than the multiplication of
men to be supported. Within the sphere
of its own influence, it will be a slow drawing
of the sting from poverty, rendering not
only the means of lite, but also, it is to be
hoped, the best objects of life, more accessible.
Every new town set among fields is,
to a great extent, and will be to a much
greater extent than it now is, another star
set in the earthly firmament—a star that
shall shine like a teacher. We may say so
since they tell us, teachers shall shine like
the stars.

Neither is there any physical necessity for
decrease in the portion of food yielded by the
Earth for each guest at her table because
of there being more of us to sit down to
meat. For thousands of years population
may increase; but food will increase with it.
There is elbow room in our own island for
the whole existing human race; and, compared
with the size of a man, vast indeed is the
expanse of the world about us.

There is, also, a physical necessity for the
spread of peace as consequent upon the
spread of civilisation. Civilization teaches
man to trust in and depend on man; and
it will establish, by degrees, mutual trust
among nations. It will become every year
more difficult for any one nation to live alone,
spinning its own webs, eating its own
fruits, talking its own language, giving and
taking nothing with its neighbours. Already
the two nations that stand foremost in
intellect and power are acknowledging
this truth; and France and England, made
allies for a year or two, display, by their
bearing towards each other and by many a
word and deed, the deep conviction that they
must eventually be allies for ever. It is
no case with us of old foes reconciled, who
propose, in sentimental mood, to swear eternal
friendship. With us it is no case at all of
dropped hostility. Our old quarrels belong
to a past state of things; the men of this
generation have no part in them. Napoleon
is as much sober and calm history to us as
Hannibal is, and we care not a farthing
more for Crécy than for Cannæ.

We have been led into this dream by the
consideration that increase of population gives
an irresistible impulse to increase of knowledge
and happiness. Children add the results
of their own observation and reflection to the
knowledge inherited from those who lived
before. They see from the shoulders of their
fathers. Where there was one who searched
about him fifty years ago, now two are searching.
The multiplication of men is the
multiplication of minds.

DEATH'S DOORS.

MORE than ever must we turn aside—
why turn aside though? Does it not lie
in our straight path?—to care about the quiet
poor. Hunger is much to bear, fever is much
to bear, and cholera we are told broods over
the land. To these sorrows are now added
the penalties attending on a state of war;—
war, pestilence, and famine will make
grievous work among those neighbours upon
whom so many of us look down daily from
back windows, and do nothing but look down.

Good man, born with the power to:

Let thy mind's sweetness have his operation
Upon thy body, clothes, and habitation,

if you have never seen, now go abroad and
contemplate the powerlessness of the poor.
You must act, we must act, every soul must
act. Since I came away with a heart
full of sorrow from St. Philip's, Bethnal
Green, I have been thinking about the homes