in the returns, only five hundred and twenty-four
authors being set down, one hundred and
forty-one literary private secretaries, and one
thousand three hundred and twenty editors
and writers, together with two hundred and
seven reporters for newspapers, and
short-hand writers.

There were only three ballad-singers and
sellers. This must surely be an understatement.
We can hear four bawling lustily
in the street as we write. There were
eight barytes manufacturers; three pea-splitters
(how many splitters of straws we
wonder); forty-six thousand six hundred
and sixty-one licensed victuallers and beer-shop
keepers; three hundred and five bill-stickers;
nine wooden spoon makers; sixteen
brass collar makers; fifty buhl cutters; five
hundred and twelve burial-ground servants;
thirteen thousand two hundred and fifty-six
attorneys and solicitors; twenty-six
thousand and fifteen butchers' wives;
three thousand and seventy-six cabbies;
one hundred and ninety-eight capitalists!
There were six cap-peak makers; twenty
cartridge makers; sixty catsmeat dealers;
three hundred and thirty-five chaffcutters;
fifty-five thousand four hundred and
forty-three charwomen; twelve chimneypot
makers; forty-three thousand seven hundred
and sixty commercial clerks, and sixteen
thousand six hundred and twenty-five law
clerks; one hundred and three clerical agents;
three cocoa nut fibre makers; fifteen conjurors
and performers at shows; five coral-carvers;
sixty-one corn-cutters; seven thousand two
hundred and nine costermongers; two
hundred and forty-six courtiers (that is to say,
members of the court and household of her
Majesty, exclusive of domestic servants); ten
cover-makers (what covers? dish covers, table
covers, cloth covers?); seventy-seven cuppers
and bleeders; thirty-two crossing-sweepers;
one hundred and one "blue" manufacturers;
one hundred and forty-two danseuses and
ballet girls; twenty thousand two hundred and
forty dependants upon relatives: eighteen
thousand one hundred and forty-six of them
females, poor things; fifteen "doffer" plate
makers; five "dulse" dealers; twenty-six
thousand five hundred and sixty-two
independent ladies and gentlemen; ten gilt toy
makers; twenty-one thousand three hundred
and seventy-one governesses; eight hundred
and eighty-four gravediggers; seventeen
grid-iron makers, and ninety-two frying-pan
makers; fifteen "grit" sellers; forty gut
spinners; forty-eight hame (cart-horse collar)
makers; eight handcuff-makers; thirty thousand
five hundred and thirty-three pedlars;
ninety-one hoblers and lumpers; seven honey
dealers; eighty-eight leech-breeders; two
female models to artists (we know twelve
ourselves); sixteen orris (gold and silver lace)
weavers; nine hundred and four thousand
six hundred and eleven paupers, and nothing
else; four thousand three hundred and sixty-seven
pawnbrokers; twelve growers of and
dealers in rods; two million six hundred
and ninety-seven thousand seven hundred and
seventeen schoolgirls and schoolboys; and
fifty-five thousand and twenty children
receiving tuition at home. There were seven
hundred and forty-six sheriffs' officers; one
hundred and thirty shroud-makers; nineteen
thousand and seventy-five shepherds; five
shoeblacks; two skate-makers; two hundred
and thirty-eight "stevedores"; three water-bailiffs
and sea-reeves; two ventriloquists;
two waste paper dealers; fifty-four water-gilders;
and one thousand and eighty-nine
washers of the dead to the Jews.

So much have we set down in a lame and
imperfect abstract of the results of the census
of eighteen hundred and fifty-one. How
little we have been enabled to give of the
gist of the report may be judged from this
concluding and great fact, that the number
of facts which had originally to be copied
into tabular statements, when the census was,
taken, exceeded one hundred millions.

MY PICTURE.

STAND this way—more near the window—
By my desk—you see the light
Falling on my picture better—
Thus I see it while I write!

Who the head may be I know not,
But it has a student air;
With a look, half-sad, half-stately,
Grave sweet eyes and flowing hair.

Little care I who the painter,
How obscure a name he bore:
Nor, when some have named Velasquez,
Did I value it the more.

As it is I would not give it
For the rarest piece of art;
It has dwelt with me, and listened
To the secrets of my heart.

Many a time, when to my garret
Weary I returned at night,
It has seemed to look a welcome
That has made my poor room bright.

Many a time, when ill and sleepless,
I have watched the quivering gleam
Of my lamp upon that picture,
Till it faded in my dream.

When dark days have come, and friendship
Worthless seemed, and life in vain,
That bright friendly smile has sent me
Boldly to my task again.

Sometimes when hard need has pressed me
To bow down where I despise,
I have read stern words of counsel
In those sad reproachful eyes.

Nothing that my brain imagined,
Or my weary hand has wrought,
But it watched the dim idea
Spring forth into armed Thought.