joys which it takes away. If it would only land a few enterprising explorers in the moon, and bring them back to us after a sojourn there, imagination might transfer her regard to the satellite, and find there the pictures which she may no longer import from corners of the earth. But we are to have no twilight region henceforth – nothing between prosaic accuracy and blank ignorance.
On reading over what I wrote just now about familiarity operating to the abatement of awe, I am reminded of how the country people often lose their regard for the solemnity of an oath. This may arise from the irreverent administration of oaths in justice-rooms, or from the profane swearing concerning unimportant matters which
is too common among them. I recollect the case of one old witness in an assize court, who evidently did not consider the oath which he had just sworn to be a sufficient security that he would speak the truth; for, as counsel commenced to examine him, he turned to the judge, at the same time raising his clasped hands, and saying –
"My lord, do you see my two hands?"
"What does this mean?" said the judge. "Yes, I see your hands; but why don't you attend to the gentleman's question?"
"Well, my lord judge, what I've got to say is this: I hope those hands may never uncleb [i.e., unfasten] no more, if I don't tell the whole truth. I wouldn't say that to a lie."
PRICES OF FOOD – DITTO OF MEN.
Rustic simplicity is fast disappearing, now that communication is so easy, and men of all classes contrive to see a little of the world. And, unfortunately, the same transport which can move men about, moves also food and other necessaries, much of which have greatly risen in price since they can be so easily transferred. Such fish as that old witness whom I mentioned consumed, would cost now four times what he paid for it, because it can be taken to the London markets. Vegetables also have become very dear to this generation, and I think many of the peasants would say they had gained but little by the march of improvement.
It is a hard thing that, with employment so precarious as it is, and with wages so low, provisions should be high-priced in all the great towns. Butcher's-meat, poultry, fish, and bread are certainly much dearer than they ought to be. If graziers, fishermen, and farmers received large payments for these commodities, it might be supposed that the cost of breeding, taking, or growing them was so great that only a long price could remunerate those who occupy themselves therewith. But it is notorious that the first vendors of them get by no means large profits for their pains, although the consumers – the retail buyers – have to pay exorbitantly. The great profits, no doubt, go into the pockets of butchers, bakers, poulterers, and fishmongers, and probably of other middlemen who stand between the eater and the producer. The rules of the political economists seem to be at fault here, and might fairly be threatened with banishment to Jupiter or Saturn; for spite of the immense commerce in these necessaries of life, competition does
