Mr. P. (the landlord of the inn,) ever ready to shew his guests what at that village are esteemed great curiosities, was indefatigable in explaining the various instances in which he has made science subservient to utility.  The staircase, as far as the great dining-room, he has, at considerable expense, macadamized; which, provided it is kept well watered, and scrapers attached to the chamber-doors, our worthy host assured us, was infinitely preferable to marble.  He begged us to be under no apprehension as to the dampness of our beds, as they were warmed by a steam-apparatus of his own contrivance.  He always keeps a Leyden jar, about the size of a boiler, ready charged, wherewith he kills geese, turkeys, and even lamb; which, he affirms, is a much less shocking method of neutralizing the vital spark than the vulgar butchery of twisting and sticking.  He has lost three of his fingers, through incautiously handling a self-acting rat-trap of his own construction; and had his left eye blown out, while investigating the exact interval between combustion and explosion.

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I found a difference of about half an hour between the dial of Putney Church and my watch, which a young gentleman “intended for one of the universities” accounted for from difference of latitude.  He likewise explained a phenomenon, which rather startled us, near Kew.  We saw about half-a-dozen cows galloping furiously towards the river’s brink; flirting their tails, and, indeed, conducting themselves with a vivacity perfectly inconsistent with the acknowledged sobriety of that useful animal.  He calmed our apprehensions, by informing us they were intended for the East Indies.  Every other day they are fed with best rock-salt, instead of green-meat; which, by chemical agency, renders them fat and fit to be killed, and sent on ship-board at a moment’s notice; the trouble and delay of salting down being totally unnecessary.  These cows, he assured us, had just finished their thirst-inducing meal.

Near Hill’s boat-shed is the patent Philanthropical Hay-tosser, a stupendous machine, invented expressly to prevent the degradation and slavery to which thousands of our fellow men are subjected during hay-harvest.  It must gratify every friend to the amelioration of his species to learn, that the humane intention of the inventer is likely to be realized, as there are already three thousand Irishmen out of employ.

Here we must halt with our tourist.  The result of his lucubrations at Barnes—­a Model for a Magazine will be found very serviceable to all prospectus writers, and furnish skeleton articles for a whole volume.  We have been amused with the pleasantries of the author, and in return we thank him, and recommend his little book to our readers.

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SPIRIT OF THE PUBLIC JOURNALS

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