KIDD'S OWN JOURNAL. 



215 



facturers at a much more advantageous cost than 

 it can be procured by us. The value of the 

 raw silk yearly produced in France, is esti- 

 mated at about three and a-half millions ster- 

 ling. The produce of manufacture is valued at 

 two millions and a-half, so that the silk trade 

 of France is to be valued, on the whole, at 

 about six millions sterling. 



F. GOLDING. 



GOOD-WILL TO MAN. 



Dear, Mr. Editor, 



I dissent toto ccelo from the right you 

 have usurped, in naming this Periodical 

 your " own Journal." Most emphatically 

 do I say, as one of the public, it is my own 

 Journal. And why ? From the sympathy 

 I feel with its objects, and the admiration I 

 feel for its sentiments, I consider it as much 

 mine as yours ; though you may be the " in- 

 visible proprietor" of it ! Yes, Sir, I am for- 

 tunate in saying that I have been a reader of 

 yours from the 1st of January, 1852 — the 

 ever-to-be-remembered day of your " coming- 

 out ;" not I trust like a belle, for a season or 

 two, but for many, many seasons yet to come. 

 Long may you ring the changes on the varie- 

 ties of nature, and the loveliness of all God's 

 works, animate and inanimate ! 



The kindly, healthy, hearty tone which is 

 breathed forth — now in energetic and eloquent 

 prose, now in the gushing melody of poetry, 

 was of itself sufficient to induce me to become 

 a " constant reader." I have no " pets," 

 truly ; because I have no " home" yet. How- 

 ever, being of a hopeful disposition, I content 

 myself with air-built reveries. In these an 

 affectionate wife, and a canary of sweetest 

 song, figure conspicuously. I find I am 

 rambling. I intended to declare my love of 

 the benevolent spirit perceptible in your 

 articles ; and to offer my humble aid towards 

 establishing a good feeling amongst my fel- 

 low-creatures. With this intention, I extract 

 an anecdote of Oliver Goldsmith, (I will send 

 more anon,) from his Life, by Washington 

 Irving. I heartily wish that his benevolence 

 may act as an example for us to follow : that is 

 to say, with more discretion in choosing our 

 our objects than he used ; so that we may 

 show and feel that we possess hearts, and 

 also reason to guide their good impulses. 



ANECDOTES OF GOLDSMITH. NO. I. 



Among the anecdotes told of him while a^ 

 college, is one indicative of that prompt, but 

 thoughtless, and often whimsical benevolence, 

 which, throughout life, formed one of the most 

 eccentric yet endearing points of his character. 

 He was engaged to breakfast one day with a 

 college intimate, but failed to make his appear- 

 ance. His friend repaired to his room, knocked 

 at the door, and was bidden to enter. To his 

 surprise he found Goldsmith in bed, immersed to 

 his chin in feathers. A serio-comic story ex- 



plained the circumstance. In the course of the 

 preceding evening's stroll, lie had met with a 

 woman with five children, who implored his 

 charity. Her husband was in the hospital. She 

 was just from the country, a stranger, and des- 

 titute; without food or shelter for her helpless 

 offspring. 1 his was too much for the kind heart 

 of Goldsmith. He was almost as poor as herself, 

 it is true, and had no money in his pocket; but 

 he brought her to the college-gate, gave her the 

 blankets from his bed, to cover her little brood, 

 and part of his clothes for her to sell and purchase 

 food ; and, finding himself cold during the night, 

 had cut open his bed, and buried himself amongst 

 the feathers. [This achievement must have " come 

 off" when he was about nineteen or twenty years 

 of age.] 



Not to be prosy, Mr. Editor, let me finish, 

 my letter with a quotation from our own 

 Charles Swain. It is in harmony with our 



subject : — 



13e kind to each other 1 



The night's coming on, 

 When friend and when brother 



Perchance may be gone ! 

 Then 'midst our dejection, 



How sweet to have earned 

 The blest recollection 



Of kindness — returned I 

 When day hath departed 



And memory keeps : 



Her watch broken-hearted 



When all she loved sleeps, — 



Let falsehood assail not, 



Nor envy dis'pprove, 

 Let trifles prevail not 



Against those ye love f 

 Nor change with to-morrow, 



Should fortune take wing, 

 But the deeper the sorrow, 



The closer still cling ! 

 Oh, be kind to each other! 



The night's coming on, 

 When friend and when brother 



Perchance may be gone! 



If these lines were engraven on the hearts 

 of all your readers, and acted upon,they would 

 exercise no small influence, and of a delight- 

 ful kind, upon many. Then would our Man- 

 chester poet feel gratified that his poetry 

 should become beneficial both to man and 

 woman-kind. 



William Smith. 



Manchester, Sept. 20. 



[Your good-will delights us. But cannot 

 you devise some plan to keep our Journal 

 "alive" in Manchester? Your townsmen, 

 like those of Liverpool, seem very sleepy. 

 We cannot rouse them. Do, pray, oblige 

 us by trying what you can do.] 



Friendship This Goddess is wayward. 



Sometimes, people are the very best of friends when 

 at a distance from each other! Relations often 

 quarrel because they are so much together! 



