ed to arise
mainly from the increase in value of property originally devised to
charitable uses--which increase it is their custom to appropriate as
they please. 'Thus, for example,' says a writer on this subject, 'if a
testator left to any one of these companies a piece of land then worth
L.10 per annum, directing that L.10 should be annually appropriated to
the support of a school, and the land subsequently increases in value
to L.500, then the master and wardens of the company claim the right
of appropriating to their own uses the surplus of L.490. In no
equitable view of the case can this be deemed to be private property.'
It seems probable that these things will be looked into before long.
From a motion lately made in the House of Commons, we learn that a
thorough investigation is contemplated into the management and
application of all charities throughout the kingdom, the inquiry to be
conducted at the cost of the several charities, the largest of which
are not to pay more than L.50, and the smaller ones twopence in the
pound, upon the amount of their capital. Perhaps this inquiry may lead
to the recovery of some of the charities which are stated to be lost,
and of which nothing but the titles, under the denomination of
So-and-so's gift, remain upon the corporation records.

The secret management of the trust-estates contrasts curiously with
the pompous exhibition which some of the worshipful companies make of
their deeds of benevolence. Some of the smaller and older churches of
London are stuck over in the interior with enormous black boards, as
big as the church door almost, upon which are emblazoned, in gilt
letters, the donations to the poor, to the school, to the repair of
the fabric, &c. from the worshipful company of This and That, from the
days of King James--the inscriptions of whose time are illegible
through the smoke and damp of centuries--down to the days of Queen
Victoria, and the donations of last Christmas, fresh and glittering
from the hands of the gilder. Thus, the interesting old church of St
Bartholomew the Great is lined with the eleemosynary exploits of the
worshipful Ironmongers' Company, whose multitudinous banners of black
and gold are in abominable discordance with the severe and simple
architecture of the ancient edifice. 'Let not thy left hand know what
thy right hand doeth,' is a monition apparently not much in repute
among the corporate companies.

The reader may gather from the per