March 2. 
THE COTTAGE GARDENER. 
427 
a Christian land. From them he could learn nothing of 
good; and his youthful years, both at school and college, 
were wild and dissipated. When he first drew particular 
notice he was concealing himself, under a feigned name 
and the appearance of a plain gentleman, from some pursuit 
or other; and living in a place as much as possible out of 
the way of former acquaintances. His countenance evidently 
bore marks of his manner of life; no one who looked at 
him could avoid seeing that he was a man of confirmed 
drinking habits ; and his conduct soon convinced every one 
of the fact. It was gradually whispered, however, that he 
was a disguised nobleman; that his history was a pitiful one; 
that he had been unjustly treated, obliged to hide from his 
own father, who wanted to force him into signing away 
money and lands, and was much to be sympathized with. 
This drew him into society, where the quiet elegance of his 
manners would have made him very welcome, but for the 
habits he indulged in, which were constantly coming to 
light. Often was he picked up in the streets wholly 
intoxicated, and sometimes fighting with men of low and 
wretched character; yet two or three respectable friends 
clave to him, either, as he used to say “ for my five balls” 
(meaning his future coronet), or because there were kindly 
qualities buried under the frightful features of his outward 
life. Alas ! what a terrible sight it is to see vice triumph¬ 
ant in high places ! To see the young, educated, titled man, 
a slave in its grasp, and sacrificing all the talents the Lord 
has given him—station, wealth, power, and influence—to 
debasing passions, instead of spending them in the service 
of God and to His glory! 
Little did poor Mr. Forteseue dream of the end of his 
wretched earthly career! Little did those who laughed, and 
danced, and associated with him, dream of it either! He went 
on recklessly in the downward path, never attended the means 
of Grace, or the sound of the Gospel, at least while we were 
acquainted with him ; and if a terror ever crept into his 
heart he must have drank it away. Oh ! let my readers 
pause one moment, to think of this manner of using “ things 
temporal! ” Is it not too surely, to “ lose the things that are 
eternal? ” 
Years passed away; and Mr. Forteseue still lived on in 
the same manner, sometimes abroad, sometimes at home; 
but always under his feigned name, and in his usual 
wretched habits. He had formed a close intimacy with one 
family, whose eldest son, though quite unlike him in outward 
things, had been his great friend from their first intro¬ 
duction, and with this family he passed most of his time, 
when he was, as he called it, at home. 
When about to return from France, for the last time, as it 
sadly proved, lie wrote to his friend to announce his arrival, 
saying, with a thoughtlessness and presumption only too 
common with us all, “ On that day, without fail, you will see 
me at your dinner-table.” “ Go to now, ye that say, To-day, 
or to-morrow we will go into such a city, and continue there 
a year, and buy, and sell, and get gain : whereas ye know 
not what shall be on the morrow. For what is your life ? It 
is even a vapour that appeareth for a little time and then 
vanisheth away. For that ye ought to say, If the Lord will, 
we shall live, and do this or that.” 
Mr. Forteseue took his passage, and had a prosperous 
waft across the channel. On arriving in the roads, the tide 
did not quite serve for the little sailing-packet to enter the 
pier, and they tacked once or twice in consequence. Most 
of the passengers, glad to get out of ship, landed in the 
boat, but Mr. Forteseue, who was bringing over some valu¬ 
able articles belonging to a friend, chose to remain with his 
luggage, and see it safely landed himself. In a very short 
time the tide served, the little vessel made her last tack, 
and was entering the mouth of the pier. Surely all was 
safe and secure! At that very instant of time a sudden 
chop-round of the breeze took the vessel aback ; she struck 
against the pier, and went down before the eyes of the 
horrified spectators. Mr. Forteseue could not swim, and 
perished ! The last that was seen of him was as he stood 
on the deck with his portmanteau in his hand, surprize and 
horror stamped on his face. No time was allowed for an 
effort to escape, or he might almost have sprung from the 
vessel’s side to the shore. No time was allowed for more 
than a full sight of his awful position on the brink of 
terrific destruction. Oh ! who can describe the horror of 
that sight—of that unlooked-for, unprepared-for moment! 
Thus closed a life of recklessness and open sin. In the 
very moment that seemed most smooth and safe, destruction 
came. Who can reckon on a day; an instant ? “ Be ye 
ready; for the Son of Man cometh at an hour when ye 
think not." 
Readers—we may all learn a deep lesson. We may not 
be living, perhaps, in outward sin; but we may be quite, 
quite as unfit to die as this young nobleman. Inward sin 
is quite as impure in the sight of a holy God as the most 
desperate outward wickedness; let us remember that. The 
Lord is no respecter of person; there is neither high nor 
low in His sight. “ The soul that sinnetb, it shall die.” 
But what a death it is! and how suddenly it may come 
rushing upon us, just when we are saying, “ Peace and 
safety!” There is no peace, there is no safety to any but 
those who are gathered under Almighty wings. Are we 
sheltered there ? Have we fled for salvation to Him who 
died to purchase it for us ? We are all trying to walk on 
the waves of this troublesome world, somehow or other; 
but we cannot do it long. We must sink, if the hand of 
Jesus Christ is not stretched out to save us. We may think 
we are just entering the heavenly port; but the breeze of 
hope will chop right round, readers, and dash us on the 
rocks, unless Christ is in the ship; unless we have a firm 
hold of Him; unless He is our Hope and our Salvation. 
Let this solemn warning rouse us to seek Him while He 
may be found! 
THE POLAND FOWL AS RECENTLY 
EXHIBITED. 
We may fairly assume that custom has now sanctioned 
the arrangement of all the regular-tufted fowls in the 
classes assigned to Polands, and, consequently, that the 
“ tufted Hamburgh ” is a designation applicable only to 
former times. By the expression, “ regular-tufted ” fowls, 
an exception is provided for in such cases as the Ptarmigan, 
the Pencilled Game-fowl, and some others, distinguished by 
a lark-crest totally distinct from the full, globular top-knot 
of the Poland proper. 
The origin of this latter breed being enveloped in so 
much uncertainty, the advocates of the old combless Pole 
must not take it amiss if the line of demarcation between 
their favourites and the birds known to them as “ tufted 
Hamburghs ” being regarded as the cause of much needless 
confusion, has been, by almost general consent, and by the 
authority of our leading Poultry Societies, relinquished and 
done away with. The argument for this distinction, it 
would appear, rested mainly on the absence of the comb, 
and alleged greater size of the “ true Poland," for in respect 
of feather, we apprehend, their case has not been established, 
the Spangled birds alone having thus been termed Ham¬ 
burghs. Now, with reference to the comb, there can be no 
doubt that the less of it the better in any Poland fowl, and 
that anything approaching the huge horns that sometimes 
disfigures these birds is highly objectionable, as imparting 
a degree of coarseness to their otherwise symmetrical form. 
But, at the same time, exhibitors would act prudently to 
remember, that amputation, or reduction by the knife of this 
appendage, is an operation always apparent to an ex¬ 
perienced eye, and conducing neither to their owner’s credit, 
nor to the appearance of the birds themselves. A cicatriced 
wound is always left, and the space occupied by the sub¬ 
stance removed is never properly filled up by the feathers 
of the crest. 
The White-crested Black Polands of 1853 were no im¬ 
provement on their predecessors, but, rather, as we think, 
the contrary. Condition was too often absent, even when 
form and feather were satisfactory. The causes that have 
probably induced this result may embrace their delicate 
constitution as chickens, and their comparatively unprofit¬ 
able character as mere poultry; circumstances which have 
given a preference to more useful and hardier fowls, few of 
which, however, in beauty of appearance, can claim supe¬ 
riority over the subjects of these remarks. 
The Poland, indeed, and these observations apply equally 
to all their varieties, has been well styled an “ aviary bird ; ” 
