character as gunpowder; that it passed by a transition, which
may have been in particular cases more or less sudden, but which upon
the whole was gradual, into gunpowder; and that the history of the
progress of one of these manufactures is, in fact, the history of the
progress of the other. In this history there are still many gaps to be
filled up, many errors to be rectified.

The book of Messrs Reinaud and Fave, though somewhat inartificially
arranged, has given to the public much valuable information; but there
is still room for an elaborate and well-digested treatise on the
subject, in which the whole progress of pyrotechnic invention may be
arranged in chronological order, and more lucidly expounded than are
antiquarian matters in general. This is a task, however, which few, if
any, are capable of undertaking, as it requires for its successful
execution a combination of extensive antiquarian, chemical, and
philological acquirements. In the mean time, our authors may say, and we
say with them,

"Si quid novisti rectius istis,
Candidus imperti; si non, his utere mecum."

HOW TO BUILD A HOUSE AND LIVE IN IT.

We're a true Boeotian people after all: that's a fact. We may talk
about Attic art and Doric strength; but in our habits, no less than in
our climate, we certainly belong to the wrong side of the hills. We're a
stuffing and guzzling race, if ever there was one; we doat on great
hunks of meat and flagons of strong drink; and as truly as every Paddy
has got a hot potato somewhere in his head, making him the queer, mad
chap he is, so have we got a national brain compounded of pudding, and
beef, and sausages, turning us into that stubborn and stolid people
which we know ourselves to be. Sidney Smith expressed the fundamental
idea of the English nation to a T, when he said that the ultimate end of
all good government was a hot chop and plenty of claret; but, in saying
so, he did no more than re-echo the burden of the old song, translated
into more modern and fashionable language--

"Back and side go bare, go bare;
Both foot and hand go cold;
But belly, God send thee good ale enough,
Whether it be new or old!"

Ah! he was a splendid fellow that indited this song, and so was that
other clerical wight who broached the idea--

"When I go to bed, then of heaven I dream;
But that is fat pullets and clotted cream;"--

A real Devonian or Somersettian parson; but they spoke from t