Making a reasonable estimate of the number of foreign eggs, and of Irish and Scotch eggs that come into the port of London—and putting them together at a hundred and fifty millions, every individual of the London population consumes sixty eggs, brought to his own door from sources of supply which did not exist thirty years ago. Nor will such a number appear extravagant when we consider how accurately the egg-consumption is regulated by the means and the wants of this great community. Rapid as the transit of these eggs has become, there are necessarily various stages of freshness in which they reach the London market. The retail dealer purchases accordingly of the egg-merchant; and has a commodity for sale adapted to the peculiar classes of his customers. The dairyman or poulterer in the fashionable districts permits, or affects to permit, no cheap sea-borne eggs to come upon his premises. He has his eggs of a snowy whiteness at four or six a shilling, ‘warranted new-laid;’ and his eggs from Devonshire, cheap at eight a shilling, for all purposes of polite cookery. In Whitechapel, or Tottenham Court Road, the bacon-seller ‘warrants’ even his twenty-four a shilling. In truth, the cheapest eggs from France and Ireland are as good, if not better, than the eggs which were brought to London in the days of bad roads and slow conveyance—the days of road-waggons and pack-horses. And a great benefit it is, and a real boast of that civilisation which is a consequence of free and rapid commercial intercourse. Under the existing agricultural condition of England, London could not, by any possibility, be supplied with eggs to the extent of a hundred and fifty millions annually, beyond the existing supply from the neighbouring counties. The cheapness of eggs through the imported supply has raised up a new class of egg-consumers. Eggs are no longer a luxury which the poor of London cannot touch. France and Ireland send them cheap eggs. But France and Ireland produce eggs for London, that the poultry-keepers may supply themselves with other things which they require more than eggs. Each is a gainer by the exchange. The industry of each population is stimulated; the wants of each supplied. MUSIC IN HUMBLE LIFE. Music—that is, classical music—has of late years been gradually descending from the higher to the humbler classes. The Muse is changing her associates; she is taking up with the humble and needy, and leaves nothing better to her aristocratic friends than their much-loved Italian Opera. It is to the masses that she awards some of her choicest scientific gifts. She has of late years permeated and softened the hard existence of the artisan and the labourer.