November, 1849.

The long vacation is over—cholera has flown away, or gone into winter quarters—the raising of blinds and unclosing of shutters in stylish streets indicate the return of families whose absence has been prolonged by fears of contagion—business, long stagnant, is reviving—street-traffic is resuming its wonted density—the new Lord Mayor has 'showed' himself, as of old—the November fogs are entombing us in their fuliginous darkness—all of which, whether fact, figure, or fancy, is an intimation that we are in the advent of another London season.

Butchers and bakers are of course busy under the influx of mouths, and not they alone, for booksellers are 'looking up,' and making proclamation of literary supplies. Some famous names are already announced—Guizot, Grote, and Lord Campbell in matters of history; Washington Irving in a trio of biographies of individuals so opposite in character—Washington, Mohammed, Goldsmith—as to make one imagine that Knickerbocker must have written all three at once, on the principle that change of work is as good as play. Reprints are in force; travels and adventures are not lacking; while fiction is as copious as ever, or more so, for we are promised a re-publication of the works of two well-known writers of romance in shilling and eighteenpenny volumes. Quite a boon this for travelling readers who love the exciting, and patronise railway libraries. Besides these, there is the usual inundation of pocket-books, almanacs, et id genus omne, which for a time urges printing-presses into preternatural activity. 'Cooking up an almanac,' as the old song has it, must be a profitable business: the 'throwing off' of that delightful periodical vouched for by 'Francis Moore, physician,' to the extent of hundreds of thousands, is divided among three of our 'city' printers—no small item in the Christmas bill. The wide sale of a work relying on credulity for its success is no compliment to the intelligence of the age; yet, as I myself know, there are hundreds of people, especially in rural districts, who would rather give up fifty pages of their Bible, than forego the almanac with its annual prognostications. Power-presses are kept constantly at work for weeks to supply the multifarious demand.

Among other literary gossip is Fredrika Bremer's visit to the United Stales. Perhaps the contrast to Scandinavian manners which she will there perceive, may have the effect of giving her a new inspiration, which by and by will awaken the sympathies of thousands on both sides of the Atlantic and in Northern Europe. Talking of the United States, reminds me that Mr Bancroft has taken up his residence in New York, and intends to devote himself to the completion of his history, in which, like our own Macaulay, he may possibly win higher honours, and effect more lasting good, than in active political life.

You have heard of the sultan's generosity towards a celebrated French writer. A large tract of land in the vicinity of Smyrna has been granted by his highness to M. de Lamartine, and it is said the author of a 'Voyage en Orient' will go out to take possession. A fact highly honourable to M. de Lamartine has lately come to my knowledge, and as it illustrates a point of character, I may communicate it. You are aware that the extemporised minister of foreign affairs has been compelled to sell his family estate of Macou to satisfy his creditors. Some of our members of the Peace Congress proposed, on their return home, to get up a subscription on this side the Channel, which should enable them to purchase the paternal acres, and restore them to their late owner. M. de Lamartine was written to on the subject, but declined to accept the proffered generosity, being 'determined to rely solely on his own literary exertions for the re-establishment of his affairs.' Such a resolution is worthy of all respect.

Some very curious and instructive facts have come to light in the evidence taken before the late parliamentary committee on public libraries; and the 'blue book' in which that is reproduced is one of the most valuable that have of late been published 'by authority.' Certain results come out which are said to make unfavourably against our country. For instance, the proportion of books in public libraries to every hundred of the population is, in Great Britain and Ireland, 63; while Russia and Portugal show from 76 to 80; Belgium, Spain, and Sardinia, 100; France, 129; Italy, 150; Austria and Hungary, 167; Prussia, 200; Sweden and Norway, 309; Denmark, 412; some of the smaller German states, 450. There has been a good deal of talk about this; but those who point to British deficiencies omit to inquire whether the books in countries so liberally furnished are really read by the people. The presence of books does not necessarily imply much reading; and if it were possible to poll real readers, there is reason to believe that the balance would be on the other side. We Britons are a domestic race; we like to see books on our own shelves, and to read them at home. It does not follow that a comparatively small number of public books betokens a deficient number of readers.

With the return of short days and long nights come the season's pursuits, pleasures, and recreations. Our twenty-two theatres are doing somewhat in the way of amusement: casinos, saloons, bowling-alleys (an importation from the United States), and exhibitions, are getting into full swing. Music—concerts and oratorios—is liberally furnished, of good quality, and at little cost. The improvement of public taste in the matter of sweet sounds within the past two or three years is not less striking than gratifying. But with the decline of coarseness, care must be taken to avoid the creation of a censorious fastidiousness: a willingness to be amused is by no means an unfavourable trait of character.

Mechanics' Institutes are publishing their programmes, and in several of these there are also signs of improvement. A course of fifteen or twenty lectures on as many different subjects is no longer considered as the most improving or desirable. Real instruction is not to be conveyed by such means; and now two or three suitable topics are to be chosen, and each discussed in a series of four, five, or six lectures. In this way we may hope that hearers will be able to carry home with them clear and definite ideas, instead of the meagre outline hitherto furnished.

Apropos of lectures: a striking characteristic of the time must not be overlooked. The attempts recently made towards a just acknowledgment and recognition of the worth and status of the working-classes in society have aroused similar efforts here in the metropolis. To mention only one instance: a course of lectures to working-men is to be delivered during the month of November, by gentlemen whose name and character are a guarantee for the value of their teachings. The subjects are—On the advantages possessed by the working-classes for their social advancement—On the importance of this advancement to the nation at large—On the franchise as a public trust—and On the favourable influence of religion on the intelligence, liberty, virtue, and prosperity of states. Each lecture, after having been given at the London Mechanics' Institute, Chancery-Lane, will be repeated the same week at Finsbury. The topics are good ones; and if the working-classes do really feel an upward tendency, now is the time to prove it.

Another fact which I must not forbear to notice is the 'Evening Classes for Young Men in London,' first set on foot last winter by several public-spirited clergymen and others. A few passages from the prospectus will not only explain the objects, but serve as a guide to those who may wish to bestir themselves in similar efforts in other places. 'The range of subjects,' thus it proceeds, 'will be nearly the same as that adopted at King's College London; but, generally speaking, of a more elementary character, so as to suit the requirements of young men whose time is otherwise much engaged. All young men of the metropolis and suburbs are admissible on producing a note of introduction from a clergyman, a subscriber, or a respectable householder, and paying 2s. 6d. per term for each class.... The year of study will be divided into three terms—Michaelmas, Lent, and Trinity; that is from October to July, with short vacations at Christmas and Easter. A record of the attendance of pupils will be kept in each class: certificates of regular attendance can be obtained; and these may be found very useful in after-life, as indicative of steadiness of conduct, and of a wise application of leisure time.' There is a liberal spirit in this programme, which is no unimportant essential towards a realisation of the promoters' aim. As soon as twenty young men in any part of the metropolis unite to form a class, a teacher is appointed for them. For the present (Michaelmas) term there are more than forty such classes, the subjects of study being Hebrew, Greek, Latin, French, English; history, general, Scriptural, and ecclesiastical; natural philosophy, chemistry, mathematics, drawing, writing, and singing. When I tell you that Dr M'Caul conducts the Hebrew, and the Rev. C. Mackenzie the Greek class, you will be able to form a fair idea of the value of the instruction imparted. Besides the weekly class-lesson, a lecture, free to all the members, is given on two evenings of the week. Those who have long laboured to prove the rectifying and elevating influence of education, will take courage from the facts which I have here set down.

After this long discourse about learning and literature, I may turn to a few minor subjects of gossip. One is the Westminster improvements: the new line of street by which it is proposed to connect the royal palace at Pimlico and Belgravia with the grand centre of law and legislation, is now laid open nearly in its whole length. It is to be 80 feet wide; and with a view doubtless to its becoming the royal route, a good breadth of building-land has been reserved on each side. The making of this avenue has removed a mass of squalid dwellings, nests of filth and fever, which is of course a public benefit; but it is hard to imagine what becomes of the late squalid occupants; one can only suppose that they force themselves into dismal districts already too thickly peopled. Southey discovered the 'lost tribes,' and a few others, in London; and it would not be difficult to find a Dismal Swamp here as well as in Virginia.

Besides this, there is again talk of a new bridge at Westminster, to be built a little lower down the stream than the present unsightly structure, by which means a better view than at present will be obtained of the nine-acre legislatorial palace. We shall perhaps learn something definite on this pontine business when Sir John Burgoyne's report comes out. Meantime a 'lion' is not lacking; for sight-seers go to look at Mr Hope's new mansion at the corner of Dawn Street, Piccadilly. It is a magnificent building, in the Renaissance style, and makes one long to see whole streets of such architectural innovations on the dreary uniformity of West-end thoroughfares. With slight exceptions, the whole of the works have been executed by foreign workmen. Some silver-plate for the dining-rooms was 'on view' at the last exhibition by the Society of Arts, and was greatly admired by those who love revivals of ancient art.

Of course you have heard of the dismissal of the first Sewers' Commission, and the appointment of a new one, with Lord Ebrington as chairman? we must hope not without an intention of real work. The call for competing drainage-plans was answered by not less than 148 projects being sent in, among which no single one is found efficient; the schemes, in fact, comprise all sorts of possibilities and impossibilities. A good many are mere modifications or reproductions of the plan proposed by Mr J. Martin many years ago, which included a continuous sewer on each side of the Thames from Vauxhall to Rotherhithe, to be surmounted by a terrace to serve as a public thoroughfare. Could this noble scheme be realised, Londoners would have what has long been a desideratum—a river promenade. Cleaning of streets and water-supply come in as part of the same subject: in some parishes bands of 'street orderlies,' as they are called, have been set to work. They wear a broad-brimmed, black-glazed hat, and a blue blouse, and in appearance remind one of the 'cantonniers' who work on the roads in France. The orderlies are provided with a broom and shovel, and remove all litter as fast as it accumulates. So well do they do their work, that crossing-sweepers are not needed in their districts. As regards water, it is a prime subject of discussion at present, and it is to be hoped that something will come of it. Several schemes are advocated: to bring water from the Thames at Henley, some thirty miles distant; to tap Bala Lake, and so introduce the pure element from North Wales; to bore Artesian wells. If Bala will give us all we want, in name of the Naiads let us have it! for those who are learned in subterrane matters declare the Artesian supply to be an impossibility, and we don't want to drink the out-poured refuse of Reading or Henley. At all events, the Duke of Wellington has authorised the sinking of an Artesian well within the precincts of the Tower, that the garrison may, for once in their lives, know the taste of good water. It will be a proud day for Cockneydom when it ceases to drink the superflux of sewers and cesspools!

Touching miscellaneous matters, there is the machine for making envelopes lately invented at Birmingham, where it was exhibited to several members of the British Association. It is constructed on the pneumatic principle, is beautifully simple and effective, and can be produced at a cost of L.25. You are to imagine the prepared sheets of which the envelopes are to be formed placed in a small chamber or receptacle, upon which a bellows-box descends, lifts off the upper sheet, transfers it to a mould, which gives the size, and pinches the corners; then, instead of metallic thumbs to rub down each angular flap, a blast of air enters and effects the purpose; away goes the envelop to be gummed, and drops finished into the receiver, at a rate, it is said, exceeding anything yet accomplished. Then there are Professor Schroeter's experiments on phosphorus, producing what he calls the 'allotropic condition.' In few words, when exposed to light and heat of different temperatures, phosphorus undergoes remarkable changes; no real chemical alteration takes place, yet there seems to be an entire conversion into other substances. One effect of the modifications is to render the manipulation of phosphorus harmless without destroying its properties; and the professor, more fortunate than scientific men generally, has received a liberal sum from a Birmingham manufacturer as the price of his discovery. And last, what think you of a mechanical leech, to supersede the little black snake which so often makes patients shudder? A scientific instrument with such a name has been invented by M. Alexander, a civil engineer in Paris. It has been tried in some of the hospitals, and according to the reports, is a more effectual leech than the natural one.

In a former 'gossip' I mentioned Dr Mantell and his iguanodon: he (the doctor, not the reptile) has a batch of new 'Wonders of Geology.' An arm-bone of a saurian, nearly five feet in length, the original possessor of which must have been as much larger than the iguanodon as the latter is than a modern crocodile: the monster is to be called the Colosso-saurus. In addition there is a 'consignment' of dinornis bones from New Zealand, still further exemplifying the gigantic scale of pre-Adamite creation. They will doubtless be brought before the public in some of the doctor's popular lectures.

The return of Sir James Ross and Sir John Richardson from the Arctic regions without any intelligence of Franklin and his adventurous band of explorers has created both surprise and pain. Sir James, it appears, was driven home by ice-drifts against his will and against his instructions, and the consequence will be another expedition next spring, should nothing in the meantime be heard of Sir John Franklin by way of Behring's Straits or Russia. Notwithstanding the sums already lavished on these next to useless expeditions, a search must still be made for the party who have now been four years exposed to polar frosts.