is employed in conveying 'City men' to and from their
homes on the south of the Thames. Walworth, Camberwell, Kennington,
and Brixton were once on the border region between town and country;
nay, the city really _did_ reach the country there; but now, all these
belong to London. A bit of green at Kennington is, by good-luck, to be
kept green as a people's park; but nearly all else has become brick
and mortar; the City man has to go further to get a pleasant house and
a good garden, and _we_ have to go further to ascertain--where does
London end?

Among many curious proofs of the wide grasp of the all-absorbing
metropolis, we may adduce the horror of the Pentonvillians at the
proposed new cattle-market. How many years ago is it since Copenhagen
Fields were almost beyond the regions of civilisation, known only as a
prairie lying between London and the Copenhagen Tea-gardens? Let any
one, whose knowledge of the district goes back fifteen or twenty
years, answer this question. But now, Copenhagen House itself is
brought within the limits of London, by rows of goodly houses belting
it in on the north; and the gentilities of the new town are shocked at
the threatened advent of bullocks and sheep.

If we look into the stupendous _London Directory_, it does not remove
our troubles; it gives us the names of nearly 7000 streets, places,
roads, squares, circuses, crescents, quadrants, rows, hills, lanes,
yards, buildings, courts, alleys, gardens, greens, mews, terraces, and
walks, but it does not tell us how far the suburbs are included, nor
what are the principles which determine the inclusion or exclusion.

In short, we began by asking a question, and must end by leaving it
unanswered. Although tolerably familiar with London, we cannot
tell--'Where does London end?'

EDUCATED SKILL.

It is well known, that in the manufacture or preparation of most
articles in the arts, the main cost lies in the judicious application
of skilled labour. The value of the raw material is usually of
comparative small amount. A pound's worth of iron makes six hundred
pounds' worth of penknives; and cotton, which in the state of gingham
may be bought at 3d. per yard, is sold for the same weight as gold in
threads for Brussels lace.

It is therefore obvious, that the great advantage of cheap raw
material is in the rude stages of manufactures, or when our skill in
production is not inferior to that possessed by our neighbours. In a
manuf