y previous situation."

THE NEW CATTLE MARKET.

The London public are not of the opinion of Shelley, that flesh of
bullocks and sheep, when properly cooked, is the true cause of original
sin, and that to regain the innocence of the Garden of Eden we have but
to have recourse solely to a vegetarian diet. This doctrine has never
been a popular one, and from the earliest time the contrary has found
favour in the eyes of men. With what gusto does Homer describe the
banquets before the walls of Troy, when heroes were the guests, and where
divine Achilles was the head cook! The custom of eating baked and boiled
is one of the few good things we have to thank antiquity for. Our jolly
Scandinavian forefathers considered eating horse rump steak a sign of
orthodox paganism; and at this very moment, if the _Times_ be a correct
index of the national sentiment, the great question that agitates the
mind of the middle class public, that public in which, according to
general opinion, all the piety, and patriotism, and wisdom of the land is
concentrated, is not as to peace or war--not as to Reform or Social
Science--or education or religion--not as to how the vice and impiety of
the day may be grappled with and reclaimed--but as to how a man may
genteelly dine his friends, and, with an income of a few hundreds,
provide a repast that shall rival that of one whose income consists of as
many thousands. Really, the force of folly can no further go. Hence,
then, it is clear that to the present customs of society a cattle-market
of some kind is essential. At one time it was held in Smithfield. There
it was a dangerous nuisance. The wise men of London did as they
generally do in such matters--first denied that it was a nuisance at all,
and when they were driven from that position, and compelled to yield to
public indignation, moved it a little further off.

It is early morn, and we wend our way to the New Cattle-market, in
Holloway, near the model gaol, and lying in that _terra incognita_
stretching away to Camden-town and the steep of Highgate-hill, where
juvenile cockneys some thirty years ago played, and called the waste
Copenhagen-fields. There the New Cattle-market is erected. In shape it
consists of a long square, if I may be allowed such an expression, on
every side surrounded with lofty walls, and covers many acres of ground.
In the centre of the market is a lofty clock-tower, and around it are
shops devoted to the