ern Liberty Skivers," Killers," and "Peep-of-Day Boys;" and in Baltimore, "Plug-Uglies," "Rough Skins," "Double Pumps," "Tigers," "Black Snakes," "Stay-Lates," "Hard Times," "Little Fellows," "Blood Tubs," "Dips," "Ranters," "Rip-Raps," and "Gladiators."

A convention of these persons, under the name of the "American Clubs," was held at Baltimore in September 1857, under the plea of rallying for some political campaign. In commenting on this meeting, the 'Baltimore Clipper' pertinently inquired, "Should not every truehearted American blush to acknowledge that any portion of his countrymen glory in such barbaric and degrading names?" It is not likely, the Reform Bill notwithstanding, that the English people will borrow any of these names from their American cousins-though it should be noted that the word "rowdy" has lately crossed the Atlantic, and promises to retain its place in English parlance.

"To run the machine" is a phrase derived from the rowdy life of the great cities, where the young men of this class delight, as some of our very upper-class people are unfortunately learning to do in England, to officiate as firemen, and drag the engines, the hose, the ladders, and other paraphernalia through the streets. To run the machine now signifies, in political parlance, to run the machine of Government. "Now, look you," said the late President Lincoln to a visitor, who presumed to give him a little too much advice as to what he should and should not do in the conduct of the Civil War, "if I have to run this machine, I shall run it in my own way, and be accountable to God, my conscience, and the people, but not to you." To "run" a bank or a business, is to conduct a bank or a business; while to "run one's face" is a peculiar phrase for getting credit on the faith of one's honest looks or respectable appearance.

"Any man," says the 'New York Tribune,' "who can run his face for a card of pens, a quire of paper, and a pair of scissors, may set up for an editor, and by loud incessant bragging may secure a considerable patronage."

The word "go," and the phrase "to go it," are used multifariously enough in English slang, but the Americans, if they have not improved upon British teaching, have certainly increased the misapplications to which the word is liable. The verb "go ahead," together with the adjective "go-aheaditive," and the noun "go-aheaditiveness," are wellknown Americanisms familiar to everybody. "Go to grass" signifies get out, be off, go away; to "go it blind," to act without thought; "to go it with a rush," to act in a headlong manner; "to go the big figure," to do things on a large scale. "Some of our Senators go the big figure on fried oysters and whiskypunch."-Burton's Waggeries.' "To go the whole hog," or "to go the entire animal," is no longer a strange figure of speech in England. The Americans claim its parentage, and no Englishman of any taste is likely to dispute it with them. "To go through the mill," signifies to learn experience from adversity. "A gone coon,' 'a gone goose," "a gone gander," are three phrases signifying a ruined man. "I've generally noticed that if a man begins to gape at church when the preacher comes to seventhly or eighthly, it is a gone goose with him before he comes to tenthly." Seba Smith, 'Yankee Life.'" Goner" or gonner," from gone, has the same meaning as gone coon." To say of a man that "he's a gonner," signifies that he is sick, past recovery, or that he is ruined. "Agonner' also means a bad debt, lost without hope of payment. "Done gone" expresses the last stage of discomfiture, personal or national. "The surrender of General Lee settles the business. The Confederacy is done gone, and Jeff Davis may go to

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"Backbone" and "weak knees" are two phrases continually used in political discussion, and in criticism upon the characters of public men. Backbone, according to Mr Bartlett, signifies moral stamina, strength of will, firmness of purpose. "Men do not know how to resist the small temptations of life from some deficiency in their dorsal arrangements. Backbone is the material which makes an upright man; and he must be firm on all points if he would pass scatheless through the struggle of life."—"The Republic,' 1857. "General M'Clellan cannot end the war. He has no backbone." Wendell Philips. "If Mr Lincoln had backbone enough-but he hasn't-he would not tamper or treat with slavery, but abolish it at one stroke-at once and for ever.”—Anna Dicken

son.

"Weak knee'd" has a meaning directly opposite to that of backbone, and is applied to persons who are infirm of purpose, or unsettled in their political or religious convictions. "We do not join in the complaints made against Ben Butler. The ladies of New Orleans probably deserved all he said of them; but whether they did or did not, it is the duty of the Government to stand by him. He is set ting a good example to the weak knee'd brethren, which will do them good."- New York Times.'

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A favourite expression of the Americans to denote place, thing, that is small or of little or person, account, is "one-horse." In the West, says Mr Bartlett, by an obvious agricultural figure, this term is applied to anything small or diminutive, as a one-horse bank-a one-horse church," meaning a little bank or church. So the phrase a one-horse lawyer" is applied to a mean contemptible pettifogger. A clergyman deprecating the use of such expressions as "dang it," "confound it," called

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I like the Judge; he's none of your one-horse lawyers, but a whole team." The phrase took the popular fancy, and received successive additions from the rough humorists of the day-such as "he's a whole team, and a horse to spare;" or the ne plus ultra of commendation, "Grant's the man for next President; he's a whole team, a horse extra, and a big dog under the waggon!"-Letter in New York Herald.' Another common Americanism, derived from rural life, though not so racy as the foregoing, is, to "hitch horses," or more tersely "to hitch," to agree or consort with a person. "After he poked his fist in my face at the election, we never hitched horses together."-M'Clintock's Tales. "I have been teaming (driving a waggon) for old Pendleton, but I guess we shan't hitch long."-Mrs Clavers's 'Forest Life.' Among agricultural phrases that are useful and not vulgar, and commonly heard in America, are, "to draw a straight furrow," to walk in the paths of rectitude, to live uprightly.

"Governor B is a sensible man,

He stays to his home and looks arter his folks;

He draws his furrow as straight as he can." -'Biglow Papers.' And "a hard row to hoe," a difficult matter to accomplish; "I never opposed Andrew Jackson for the sake of popularity; I knew it was a hard row to hoe."-Crockett.

Among the variations of old English phrases current in America, may be mentioned, "there are no two ways about it," for "there's no mistake about it;" "he rings his own bell," for "he blows his own trumpet;" "the longest pole knocks

down the persimmons (nuts)," for "the early bird gathers the worm;' "every man skin his own skunk," for" wash your dirty linen at home;" "acknowledge the corn," for "admit the soft impeachment;" "to bark up the wrong tree," and "wake up the wrong passenger," for "to be in the wrong box."

But we need cite no more; the subject is large, and would require a dictionary to exhaust it. We have quoted enough to show that there are action and reaction between the English literatures of the two sides of the Atlantic, and to put English writers, who desire to preserve the purity of the language, on their guard against the fascinating vulgarisms which have too much charm for the "fast" people of this age-quite as fast in England as they are in America, though the Americans, to use their own hideous phrase, may think themselves far more go-aheaditive than we are. It must not be understood, however, from any remarks that we may have made, that we desire to restrict the legitimate expansion of modern English, whether the expansion come from the new

or the old home of the race. A language that has ceased to grow has already begun to perish. But while allowing and even encouraging its growth, those who employ that rich and abundant vehicle of spoken and written thought should take especial care not to corrupt and vulgarise it, and should avoid words that are neither consistent with its genius nor its structure. The English at home do more than enough of mischief in this respect —an additional reason, if one were wanted, why we should not suffer the American English to aid in the evil process. If we require new words we have an immense mine of treasure in the English of the days of Piers Ploughman, from which we can advantageously borrow

VOL. CII.-NO. DCXXIV.

LONG years ago, at the time of life when the capacity for the enjoyment of all pleasures, intellectual as well as physical, is at its zenith, it happened to me to feel the intoxicating influence of a holiday ramble in the Alps. Impressions were then made on the mind never to be effaced-so ever present, indeed, that they demanded over and over again to be verified as it were by comparison with the reality. This has caused at intervals a powerful longing for the peaks and snows, a longing which has strengthened with the advance of years. When I have been so tempted as to give way to it, you have on other occasions been good enough to afford room for some casual sketches of my adventures and experiences; and these I believe you have found that your readers have not disliked, even although the ground has been thoroughly trodden over and over again for more than a century.

I now trouble you again in the old shape, and in the hope that, sinner as I have been, I may yet be tolerated. I believe that there is always something to be made of a ramble wherever it takes one-that, should it even be over the sandy plains of northern Prussia or the Polders of Holland, the wanderer who chats to you unobtrusively of the oddities and peculiarities he has seen will be listened to. The leading defect, according to my notion of books of travel, is that they are too good-their authors aim at accomplishing too much. The literary tourist should know his place, which is a very humble one. Let him be content with chat and gossip, and not aim at instructing or astonishing. Let him remember that in the present age there are gazetteers and systems of geography which render it unnecessary that he should give us the history and statistics of all the

places he honours by a visit. Perhaps we don't know them, but what then? We can, if we wish, and we don't choose to be forced. In the pleasantest collections of letters Madame de Sevigne's, Grimm's, and Walpole's-we read superficial touches of incident or character about persons known to both the writer and receiver of the letter. Perhaps we know them too, but even if we don't, we are scarcely thankful to the solemn editor who interrupts the light flow of easy chat by telling us the pedigree belonging to the object of each sarcastic touch or funny anecdote. The letter-writer is supposed not to be an aspirant after public fame. He is writing for one reader-his own familiar friend; and therefore, although he may on other occasions be a man of solemn affairs, he is for the time a trifler. That is the rank of the literary tourist, and I don't profess to be above it.

The first thing that strikes me as worth noting is the facilities now opened for provincial folks getting across the Channel. Some twenty years ago we had all to make an expensive journey to London, and then get over to Calais or Ostend. Now steamers cross from many ports on the east coast, and I think I have seen advertised a vessel from Glasgow to France. If you glance at the map of Europe you will find that this is not so preposterous a voyage as you might suppose it to be. The fares of all these steamers are very moderate, almost nominal. The reason of this is that their fundamental object

that by which they are supported is the transport of goods. At present they bring over to us the heaps of cheap fruit which they make abundant in our seaports, and return with manufactured goods. The passenger traffic is a mere casual

adjunct to this-almost an act of courtesy and benevolence to the public, as the owners of these vessels would sometimes make out. They are going at any rate, and so they do us the favour to take us with them. The affair has its advantages and its defects. Paying so little as we do, we have no right to be critical; and if we should complain that the cabins are close and evilflavoured, or should make a representation about the transcendent filthiness of the steward who helps us to our victuals, and, as we cannot help knowing, though ignorance would be great bliss, also cooks them, the attempt would be a mere waste of correspondence. There is no rival who will promise you better treatment for your twenty or thirty shillings, and you must rest thankful that you have accomplished the transit of the Channel for so small a consideration.

On the present occasion it was not unnatural to expect to pass some novelties on the way up to the Alps. It is not often in the course of life that one crosses districts recently ravaged by war, or has an opportunity of seeing how a newly conquered state takes with the change of conditions. Hajji Baba, when he entered England after a commercial crisis which had scattered pecuniary ruin over the country, expected to find the marks of the event in deserted villages, ruined granges, and dead bodies by the roadside. The expectation of finding any deep mark left by the war in Germany is about as futile as Hajji's was. Nothing can be more closely alike to the Germany of 1864, when I had last seen the country, than the Germany of 1867. Still Herman sits down to his mid-day meal at twelve or one, and rises not till he has, with all due leisure, consumed his five courses. Still he gives twenty per cent of his daily time and work to the ending of his pipe. Still he has his old horror of fresh air, and

insists on closing the railway sash where the hot sun pours in: he and six fellow-countrymen are smoking with all their might, an unhappy Briton, male or female, making the eighth. Still the man of business holds his communications with you by opening a window-pane which lets forth from the interior recesses in which he passes his days a puff of hot smoke mingled with the ancient and fish-like smell with which you have become too familiar in your particular gasthouse. Still, if you desire to purchase a matchbox or some penny trifle which you see in a shop-window, the presence of the dealer may be evoked by a bell, which, after he has seen to the condition of his pipe, may bring him in ten minutes to transact business with you. Still Herman is as incapable as ever he was of passing a full hour without beer and sausages-so at the great stations the sacred word "Restauration" inspires him with unwonted activity, while at the less blessed smaller stations boys and women run about with jugs and platters providing the all necessary viands. Still do betrothed and newly-married couples conduct their unseemly endearments under your eyes, in the railway coaches and elsewhere, showing their tender sentiments by feeding each other with the greasy sausages which they hold in their dirty hands. Still may be seen the Herr Professor striding in solemn pomp with his great pipe borne like a mace of office, while his wife and daughters toil after him carrying the gepaeck in globular bundles. To those to whom these specialties bring a pleasing association with old times and sympathies they are still all available.

As far as the personal experience of the stranger goes, the most noticeable relic of the war seemed to me to be the state of the Austrian money market. Living where I had to cross the frontier in my daily walks, the depreciation of the notes-worth twopence-halfpenny