"ADDITION FOR COMMON NAMES."

ADDING TO A STORY.

"Oh! Mrs. Wiggins, I declare

I never heard the like!

The wretch knows how to curse and swear,

To bite, and scratch, and strike!

"All day he's tossicated, and

All night he roams about;

But that is lucky, sure, for he

Is worse when in than out."

"If this is what you get when wed,

I'm glad I yet have tarried:—

Better to keep one's single bed,

Than venture to get married.

"But such a monster! By and by

That idle minx, his wife,

With all her mawkish tenderness,

Must 'gainst him swear her life.

"The fine piano long ago,

Just after my last rout,

With candlesticks and cruets too,

Are all gone up the spout.

"And bills return'd, as I have heard,

Last week, one, two, or three;

And summonses for grocery—

'Tis nothing, though, to me.

"They live like cat and dog. I own

She always was a scold.

She broke the table on his crown;

So I was lately told.

"'Tis nothing, though, my dear, to me,

As I before have said.

If married people don't agree,

They ought not to get wed."

To go back a little to first principles, which should never be lost sight of in the teaching of any art or science, we must set forth the grand leading rule before our pupils. Addition teaches, therefore,

SONG.
"Argent comptant."

PARENTAL ADVICE.—RULE I.

Get money, my son, get money,

Honestly if you can;

It makes life sweet as honey—

My son, get money, get money!

Don't stand upon ceremony,

Or you may look mighty funny;

But make it your constant song,

Get money, get money, get money!

Money makes the mare to go, boy,

Where every path looks sunny.

Go it! my lad, through thick and thin;

Get money, get money, get money!

RULE II.—TAKE CARE OF NO. I.

No. I.—O! since the world was made from 0,

And since old Time began,

The maxim was, and still must be,

Take care of No. I.

Look at the "Times," our oracle,

As sure as any gun,

With hand upon the dial-plate,

It points to No. I.[2]

All men are fond of him, and for

His sake round earth will run,

And bustle, turmoil, rub, and scrape

For goodly No. I.

The soldier, who so gallantly

Hath battles nobly won,

Though bravely fighting, ever still

Takes care of No. I.

The mouthing prigs of Parliament,

With long yarns nightly spun,

Watch well for place and patronage,

And all for No. I.

And those who preach of charity,

Enough your ears to stun,

In making up their long accounts,

Take care of No. I.

One follows law, one physic serves,

As shadows serve the sun;

But briefs, and draughts, and boluses

All make for No. I.

And those that oft make love more sweet

Than cakes of Sally Lunn,

In all their ardour ever have

An eye to No. I.

In short, mankind, both young and old,

When serious or in fun,

From hour to hour, from day to day,

Take care of No. I.

The rich, the poor, both high and low,

Ay, every mother's son,

From Court to Poor-law Union,

Take care of No. I.

Too bad it is to be a bore,

And so my strain is done,

Except it is to say once more,

Take care of No. I.

The man who takes care of No. 1.

RULE III.
SUBTRACTION.

"I'll example you with thievery.

The sun's a thief, and with his great subtraction

Robs the vast sea. The moon's an arrant thief,

And her pale fire she snatches from the sun.

The sea's a thief, whose liquid surge resolves

The moon into salt tears. The earth's a thief,

That feeds and breeds by a composture stolen

From general excrement: each thing's a thief.

The laws you curb and whip in their rough power

Have uncheck'd theft. All that you meet are THIEVES."

Shakspere.

Subtraction teaches to "take from" or to find the difference of two numbers; having taken too much in, and slept out; to find the difference in sovereigns and shillings between that and sleeping at home according to the "conventional laws of virtuous propriety." (Vide Miss Martineau.)

The figures are to be arranged in subtraction one under the other; that line expressing the highest number, being placed above the line expressing the smaller number. In this arrangement, the upper line is called the subtrahend, and the lower the subtractor; the difference is called the remainder. Our readers, the million, are the subtrahend. The following are subtractors:—

The Rule of Subtraction is perhaps the most useful in either national, political, or commercial Arithmetic; "Take from" being the universal maxim of mankind from the day that Adam and Eve stole the forbidden fruit. In sacred history we find various exemplifications of the principle: Jacob made use of it when he obtained his brother's birthright and his blessing; David, when he took the wife of Uriah. Profane or classical history abounds with examples. It was the royal and sacerdotal rule, in all climes, countries, and times. Kings have grown thrifty by it, and conquerors invincible. "Take from" is, in short, the motto of the legislators; and rhetoric the soldier's watchword, the prince's condescension, the courtezan's smile, the lawyer's brief, the priest's prayer, and the tradesman's craft. The use of this rule, is to enable us to "do one another," not "as we would be done," without the contravention of the majesty of the law.

"For why—because the good old rule

Suffices us—the simple plan,

That they should take who have the power,

And they should keep—who can."

We have had some amusing ways of performing this rule in "by-gone ages." Among the most celebrated, were Indulgences and Benevolences. They worked well for those who worked ill, and led to a multiplication of heresies.

Subtraction is perhaps one of the most fashionable of all the rules; and any one who sets himself down for a gentleman must expect to be beset by a swarm of hungry locusts, who make a rule to bleed him at every pore till he becomes poor. When Edward the First took the wealth of the Jews and their teeth at the same time, he showed a fatherly consideration for those who having nothing to eat wanted neither incisores, cuspidati, bicuspidæ, or molarii. But we are to be nipped, and squeezed, and tapped, and leeched, and drained to all eternity, and are still expected to—give.

To take in.—This rule not only teaches us to take from, but also to take in, which is to take from, with true tact and skill. England is the Land of Goshen in this particular, and Smithfield the focus of the art, whence the first rule for selling a horse is—

1. Take in your own father,

Or, if you would rather,

You may take in your mother,

Or humbug your brother;

And though you just kissed her,

Bamboozle your sister;

Or you may send

For your friend;

Or, still fond of pelf,

If you can't find an elf,

You may take in yourself.

TAKEN IN AND DONE FOR.

"who steals MY purse steals trash."

SUBTRACTION OF CHARACTER, OR DE-TRACTION.

The rules already given for performing this branch of arithmetic apply to money matters; but the perfection of the art consists, not in simply taking from another what you want yourself, but that which does not enrich you, but makes him poor indeed. This has been styled, by way of eminence, the devil's subtraction, being the general essence of the black art. It is called Detraction.

Detraction may be performed in a variety of ways, as for example:—"Oh, I know him—his great grandfather was—but no matter, and his mother—no better than she should be, but I hate to speak evil of the dead. I have enough to do to mind my own business—and yet one cannot help knowing—but yet nobody knows what he is or how he gets his money. He makes a show certainly, but I like things to be paid for before they are sported. His wife, too—what was she, do you suppose? As I have heard, a cook in a tradesman's family.—Well, a cook is not so bad after all—I am sure it is better than a doctor. But I believe he was forced to marry her.—Poor woman, she suffered, I dare say—Well, it is well it is no worse—It was the only amends he could make her—It would have been a cruel thing for the poor innocent children to be born illegitimate.—But he is still very gay—These sort of men will be—but there will be an exposé some day. Things can't go on for ever—Well, I wish them no harm, poor creatures—But do you go to their party to-night?—I go only for the sake of seeing how madam cook conducts the entertainment."

Rule for Ladies With Regard To Their Rivals.—Should any lady be so unfortunate as to fear a rival in the affections of some simple-hearted swain in the personal attractions of some youthful beauty whom he has never seen, it must be her method not to vilify her character or underrate her accomplishments,—no, this is but sorry skill. The more delicate and refined way of subtracting from her merits will be to employ unbounded panegyric, so as to raise the expectations of the feared admirer, that the real shall fall infinitely short of the ideal. This is another mode of performing subtraction by addition.

Literary Subtraction.—This is of essential service to editors, reviewers, and others, who, having nothing good of their own with which to amuse the public, steal the brains of others.

Rule.—Take from a work published at a guinea all its cream and quintessence, under pretence of praising it into immortality through the pages of your fourpenny review. "Castrant alios, ut libros suos per se graciles alieno adipe suffarciant."

Mercantile Subtraction.—It is well understood in this country, that no honest man can get a living, in consequence of the extraordinary competition among us. It is therefore considered legal and justifiable for the baker to "take toll" and make "dead men;" for the licensed victualler to make "two butts out of one;" for the wine-merchant to "doctor" his port; for the butcher to "hang on Jemmy;" for the printer to make "corrections;" for the tailor to "cabbage;" for the grocer to "sand his sugar and birch-broom his tea." The milkman "waters his milk" by act of parliament; and to show that all this is in the order of Providence, the rains of heaven wet the coals.

National or Political Subtraction.—There is one part of the New Testament which all Christian rulers have religiously observed, namely, "Now, Cæsar issued a decree that all the world should be taxed." The art of taxation is, therefore, not only a religious obligation, but is the science of sciences and the most important part of National Arithmetic.

Taxation is necessary just as blood-letting is necessary in plethora. Over-feeding produces a determination of the blood to the head, and then radical rabidity breaks out into rebellion. Over-feeding requires bleeding. There is a tendency in every industrious nation to get on too fast. Taxation is the fly-wheel which softens and regulates the motion of the national machinery, the safety valve which prevents explosion, while that accumulation of taxation called the dead weight is a "clogger" to keep things down.

Whenever there is a "rising," it is a sure sign that taxation is too light; consequently taxation should be so accommodated to the habits, tastes, and feelings of the people, as to fit them at all points, like well-made harness. If they grow too enlightened we can double the window-tax; if they be disposed to kick, put on the breeching in the shape of an income-tax; if they go too much by the head, we can raise the price of malt, and, by way of a martingale, put a duty on spirits; if they jib, we can touch them on the raw with "the house duty;" if they step out too fast, tighten the "bearing rein" by 10 per cent. on the assessment; and should any attempt be made to bolt, we can secure them with a curb, by a tax on absentees.

The perfection of taxation is to make it as much as possible like an insensible perspiration; or to cause it to subtract, like the vampire when lulling the victim to sleep, by fanning him with the wings of patriotism and the hum-hum of a liberal oration, on the principle of

"Bleeding made easy."

"FORKING UP."

RULE IV.
MULTIPLICATION.

9 × 1 = 9.

Multiplication teaches a short way of adding one number together any number of times. Its sign is a cat o'-nine-tails; its symbol a whipping-post. Since the wonderful powers of the number nine have been publicly discussed, we have had no more shooting at her Majesty, (Heaven preserve her!) which shows the transcendant powers of arithmetical argument. The Egyptian plague of frogs and flies exemplifies this rule. In Modern Rome we have multiplication of fleas. In Modern Babylon we have multiplication of bugs, particularly humbugs. In the West Indies we have multiplication of musquitoes and piccaninies, and in the East, multiplication of oneself, as in the case of Abbas Mirza and his 1000 sons for a body guard.

Multiplication of Laws.—This is a favourite amusement with our modern legislators. It naturally leads to the multiplication of lawyers, whose proper calling is to set people together by the ears, for the multiplication of dissensions. The original type of this order was the plague of locusts.

Domestic Multiplication, or Multiplication of miseries. This rule is performed by taking unto oneself a wife for better or worse; then, multiplying as usual, and, at the end of fifteen or twenty years, having the young "olive branches" round about our tables.

Multiplication of Money.—This is the most universal case in the whole rule. The multipliers are the operatives, who are placed at the bottom, instead of the top of the arithmetical scale. They may be ranged, in general, as in the following:—

These digits are to be worked from fourteen to sixteen hours a-day at the lowest possible fraction of pay. The product is to be set down in the 3½ per cents. or invested in the first unjust war in which this nation may be engaged; or the whole aggregate of sums may be multiplied by monopoly.

LAWYER DIVIDING THE OYSTER.

RULE V.
DIVISION.

Do not think I write in jest,

Though something in derision,

Look east and west, and north and south,

There's nothing but Division.

The State, with Whigs and Radicals,

Is split up and divided,

The Church, with hungry pluralists,

Is getting quite lop-sided.

A split is in the methodists,

The jumpers and the shakers,

A split is with the baptists too,

A split is in the quakers.

The Jews have split like gentile dogs,

And some are trying daily

To send Mahomet to the hogs,

In spite of Mahommed Ali.

The law is split, and fees are down

To stop the rise of lawyers,

And costs are cut, oh! quite in half,

Just like a log by sawyers.

Divide, divide, the Speaker cries,

Each night with voice of thunder,

But yet the law thus made "so wise,"

Most likely is a blunder.

Division teaches how to divide a number into two or more equal parts, as in the division of prize-money.

Division is of great importance, whether political, ecclesiastical, commercial, civil, or social. Nothing is more likely to destroy your opponents than a split. Divide et impera is the true Machiavelian policy of all governments.

Numbers, that is the multitude, are to be divided, in a variety of ways,—by mob orators, or by mob-sneaks, or by parliamentary flounderers, or by mystifying pulpit demagogues.

The divisors should generally endeavour to work into their own hands, and the dividends may be compared to fleeced-sheep, plucked-geese, scraped sugar-casks, drained wine-bottles, and squeezed lemons.

Social Division.—The divisions here may be a tale-bearer, a gossip, or a go-between, and the divisors will "separate" to fight like Kilkenny cats, leaving nothing behind but two tails and a bit of flue. In a township, a volunteer corps is an excellent divisor: you may kill the adjutant by way of a quotient, on the surgical principle of "Mangling done here."

In the division of property by will, be your own lawyer, and your property will be divided to your heart's content; for, as your heirs will most assuredly be divided amongst themselves, when they have done fighting over your coffin for what does not belong to them, they will call upon the Court of Chancery to divide it—principally among the lawyers, according to the lex non scripta.

In the division of profits, first take off the cream three times, and then divide the milk.

THE LION'S SHARE.

In all kinds of "Division of Money" endeavour to carry out the principle of the fable. Like the lion when dividing the spoil, consider that you have a right to the first part, because you are a lion; to the second, because you are strong; to the third, because no one dares dispute your right; and to the fourth, because no one is so able as yourself to defend it. This is the lion's share.

Division of Time.—"Tempus fugit," and therefore the due systematic and proper division of time, in a rational manner, is the bounden duty of every "beardling." All philosophers and some kings, whether from Democritus to Tim Bobbin, or from Alfred the Great to that merry old soul, "Old King Cole," have divided their time equitably, according to the maxim of Horace, "Carpe diem, quam minimum credula postero." Modern life teaches and exhibits the same necessity for the rigid division of the "stuff life is made of," and the twenty-four hours may be systematically divided, with great advantage, by young men, as follows:—

HOURS.
1.To yawning, vertigo, head-ache and soda-water, say from one to three, A.M.2
2.From pulling off the night-cap to putting the first leg out of bed1
3.To "cat-lap," "broiled chickens," Lackadaisical Magazine, "Dry Punch," and Gazette of Fashion2½
4.To the study of "cash stalking," the art of post-obits, with lessons from Professor Mœshes on the science of "Bondology." (Nocturnâ versate manu, versate diurnâ)1
5.To lounging, "dawdling," "muddling," sauntering, losing oneself in "ins and outs," "nowheres," &c.1½
6.To dressing for dinner, to getting on a pair of boots, half an hour, swearing at coat quarter of an hour, selecting vests half an hour, cursing pantaloons quarter of an hour, shaving, and other unnecessaries2½
7.To dining, wineing, brighting the eye, doubling the cape, getting half seas over, going into port instead of finding a champaign country2
8.To dressing for opera, "titivating," "bear's greasing," curling, barbarizing, scenting, putting on opera countenance, and ogling1½
9.To tying on stock half an hour, to putting on gloves quarter of an hour, to curling whiskers half an hour, to laying on the rouge, &c.1½
10.To bowing, scraping, hemming, hawing, yawning, toying, soft-sawdering, salooning, staggering, cigaring, coaching, and finishing3½
11.To no one knows what—Nisi castè saltem cautè5
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