Nine friendless young women, of whom four have relations there. Thus it will be seen this two hundred and twenty-five pound loan affords A passage, to Adults 31 Children 28 —— Total 59 At the end of the first year after the arrival of these persons, there will be available for assisting other friends and relatives of this batch of fifty-nine to join them, about forty pounds; at the end of the second year, about sixty pounds; third year, about eighty pounds; fourth year, about one hundred and twenty pounds. This system sacrifices no independence; incurs scarcely any weight of obligation. It affords the best possible kind of assistance; for it helps those who help themselves, and puts it in their power to help their fellows. THE STRANGERS’ LEAF FOR 1851. Among the myriads of products of art, science, and manufactures, to be congregated under Mr. Paxton’s great glass house in Hyde Park next year, it is to be hoped that the newspaper press will not be unrepresented. We do not mean model morning papers, displaying several square acres of advertisements, or news conveyed from the other hemisphere, by steam and electricity, since the previous morning; but a modest sheet, in the humble guise of a miniature Morning Post (like the Morning Post of old), for the registry of the names and “up-puttings” of the tens of thousands of strangers who will inevitably be thrusting themselves into London, like needles in bundles of hay, where nobody can find them. Such a humble record as we propose already exists, and we will describe it:— About three years since, a brother of the well-known German philosopher, Heine, established a paper in Vienna, called the “_Fremden Blatt_,” or “Strangers’ Leaf.” One of its chief objects is to give the names and residences of such strangers as arrive daily in the capital, and the dates of their departure. It is printed on a sheet about the size of a lady’s pocket-handkerchief. It costs rather less than a penny; the expenses of conducting it are trifling, and its circulation is very extensive. There is not an hotel or coffee-house, not a lounge, or a pastry-cook’s shop (the chief place of resort in Vienna), which does not take it in, and indeed, among the idlers and triflers—a very large class of every population—it is the only paper read at all.