t entering at any length into this subject, the consideration of
which would lead me into all the details of our every-day habits, I
pass on at once to the question which has induced this inquiry, while
I proclaim to the world loudly, fearlessly, and resolutely,
"Eureka!"--I've found it. Yes, my fellow-countrymen, I have found a
remedy to supply the deficient income of the nation, not only without
imposing a new tax, or inflicting a new burden upon the suffering
community, but also without injuring vested rights, or thwarting the
activity of commercial enterprise. I neither mulct cotton or corn; I
meddle not with parson or publican, nor do I make any portion of the
state, by its own privations, support the well-being of the rest. On
the contrary, the only individual concerned in my plan, will not be
alone benefited in a pecuniary point of view, but the best feelings of
the heart will be cultivated and strengthened, and the love of home,
so characteristically English, fostered in their bosoms. I could
almost grow eloquent upon the benefits of my discovery; but I fear,
that were I to give way to this impulse, I should become so fascinated
with myself, I could scarcely turn to the less seductive path of
simple explanation. Therefore, ere it be too late, let me open my mind
and unfold my system:

"What great effects from little causes spring."

Any one who ever heard of Sir Isaac Newton and his apple will
acknowledge this, and something of the same kind led me to the very
remarkable fact I am about to speak of.

One of the Bonaparte family--as well as I remember, Jerome--was one
night playing whist at the same table with Talleyrand, and having
dropped a crown piece upon the floor, he interrupted the game, and
deranged the whole party to search for his money. Not a little
provoked by a meanness which he saw excited the ridicule of many
persons about, Talleyrand deliberately folded up a bank-note which lay
before him, and, lighting it at the candle, begged, with much
courtesy, that he might be permitted to assist in the search. This
story, which is authentic, would seem an admirable parody on a portion
of our criminal law. A poor man robs the community, or some member of
it (for that comes to the same thing) to the amount of one penny. He
is arrested by a policeman, whose salary is perhaps half-a-crown
a-day, and conveyed to a police-office, that cost at least five
hundred pounds to build it. Here are found three or fo