280 



KIDD'S LONDON JOURNAL. 



TO CORRESPONDENTS. 



J. A. B.— Thanks. It shall appear in our next. 

 Phrenology tor the Million will be continued next 

 week. 



ConipsroNDENTs sending- in any " facts " connected with 

 Science or Natural History, are requested in every 

 case to append their names and places of abode. In no 

 instance, however, will their names be published with- 

 out their express sanction. 



Private Letters.— Of these we daily receive such 

 immense quantities, that we must really beg the 

 writers to excuse our not replying to them ; our time 

 being overwhelmingly occupied with Public duties. 



To obtain this Paper without any difficulty, our readers 

 need only order it to be sent to them by any of their 

 local Booksellers or Newsvendors. It is published 

 simultaneously with all the other weekly periodicals. 



KIDD'S OWN JOUENAL. 

 Saturday, May 1, 1852. 



May, sweet goddess May — all hail ! How 

 long have we waited for thee ; and how 

 have we groaned through the dreary, cold 

 months of March and April, whilst praying 

 for thy coming ; and thou art come at last ! 



Once again, with a frank and hearty wel- 

 come, has Nature opened her house to all 

 her guests. She has hung forth her richest 

 draperies. She has re -painted, re-gilded; 

 she has drawn aside the veil from before her 

 most magnificent pictures. Behold ! All 

 earth is her garden, a garden in which the 

 trees are white with blossom, and the ground 

 is carpeted with myriads of flowers. To 

 animate the scene, the cuckoo has arrived ; 

 the nightingale, the blackcap, the swallow, 

 and many more of the " sweet singers " who 

 pay us their annual visits, and enliven us 

 with their melodious songs, both by day and 

 by night. 



At such a time, when all nature is re- 

 joicing, and everything that has life is using 

 it to the best advantage, let us not be behind- 

 hand in joining the merry throng. We 

 allude not to the so-called merry Mummers, 

 and people who make holiday in the streets 

 and suburbs of London at this season ; nor 

 to those merry people who crowd our steam- 

 boats and railroads, 



" On desperate pleasure bent." 



For the majority of these, gluttony and 

 drunkenness alone have charms — eat- 

 ing and drinking, and smoking filthy 

 tobacco, being with them " the grand 

 end of life." Yet cannot we behold even 

 these without feelings of pity, when Ave see 

 them give unrestrained license to their 

 animal passions. Even a beast knows when 

 it has had enough, and it leaves off with an 

 appetite ; nor can you tempt it to eat or 

 drink more than Nature requires. No 

 drunkenness have we here ; but all is 



amiability and gentleness. Not so with us ; 

 for at this season in particular, we have 

 drunken men and drunken women in abun- 

 dance — the latter an odious sight. Let the 

 "pleasure vans" from Hampton Court, &c, 

 &c, attest the truth of what we say. As 

 very many of these pass our door on their 

 homeward journey, we cannot help hearing 

 as well as seeing. The hymns and psalms 

 borne upon the breeze at starting, are in- 

 variably succeeded, we remark, ere night- 

 fall, by the coarsest of songs and the filthiest 

 of ribald jests— uttered, be it known, for 

 the most part, by " temperance" men and 

 u temperance " women ! Gin, brandy, and 

 rum, prove most fearful odds against " the 

 pledge " of temperance and virtue. Alas 

 for poor human nature ! It is well for these 

 folk, and for all like them, that WE are not 

 in power. If we were, our very first act 

 would be the total annihilation of ardent 

 spirits, and we would make it death by the 

 law for any une who attempted to re -intro- 

 duce them. (Yet are we not teetotallers — God 

 forbid !) Then would England stand some 

 chance of being a " happy land." She is 

 not so now, though excess has greatly abated 

 of late years. Let us hope for still further 

 improvement. But we have digressed. 



All the guests of Nature are now as- 

 sembled, and in holiday trim. Both birds 

 and beasts are revelling in this glorious 

 season of flowers, greenness, and freshness. 

 Nor is Man excluded : at the head of all, he 

 revels with the rest. 



Who shall describe all the flowers that are 

 now visible in the garden and the field ; all 

 the birds, and all the happy insects that are 

 now flitting and fluttering amongst them ? 

 It is now that the great stag-beetle comes 

 forth, and soars booming through the air. 

 The cockchafer too, is humming about every 

 fresh-leaved sycamore ; and dragon-flies of 

 all sizes and hues are skimming and darting 

 along the margin of rivers. Every insect 

 creature seems full of happiness ; many of 

 them walking on the waters, with their long, 

 skate-like motions, or whirling in giddy, 

 rapid dance over our very heads ! 



These, and many other similar delights, 

 await our observation daily ; and as this is 

 May Day, we will finish our invitation to 

 enter Nature's garden by quoting the beau- 

 tiful lines of Hereick, introductory to his 

 poem of " CoPviNNA's Going a-Maying." All 

 who would enjoy the country, should make 

 these lines their text-book : — 



" Get up, get up for shame, the blooming morn 

 Upon her wings presents the god unshorn ; 

 See how Aurora throws her fair 

 Fresh-quilted colors through the air! 

 Get up, sweet slug-a-bed, and see 

 The dew bespangling herb and tree. 



