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And then all the year round, I pray you would mind it,
I shall not want money-oh, grant I may find it!
Now several there are that believe this is true,
Yet the reason of this is desired from you.

4. We think you're so far from the having of more,
That the price of the goose you have less than before:
The custom came up from the tenants presenting
Their landlords with geese, to incline their relenting
On following payments.

MASSON ON AFFGHANISTAN.* BEFORE us lies another new work on the subject of Affghanistan and the adjacent countries on the Indus, so lately treated of by the ill-fated Burnes, and by other writers of whose works we have taken notice. The subject is one, however, of which the interest is not easily exhausted under present circumstances, and the three volumes now in our hands contain, besides, a very considerable amount of fresh matter. The writer, Mr Masson, spent a number of years in the districts which he describes, in what capacity we cannot precisely learn from the preface. The writer, we may observe by the way, shows himself in his least agreeable phase in his prefatory address, and throws out remarks, defensive and offensive, upon the late managers of British affairs on the Indus, which the general reader must deem out of place, to say the least of it, in such a work.

Nevertheless, as has been said, there is good matter in the volumes of Mr Masson. He starts at once, and without circumlocution, with an account of his stay in Bahawalpur, a town on the Sutlege, one of the chief feeders of the Indus. It is impossible, however, for us to follow him in his movements from place to place, or to discriminate between the numerous khans and rajahs with whom he comes in contact. We must merely take snatches here and there; and, firstly, we may give a portrait of one of the small despots of these regions, who, when not engaged in war, live solely for sensual pleasure. "The Nawab Shir Mahomed Khan is about thirty-five years of age. Although believed to feel keenly his dependent situation on the Sikhs, his chagrin does not prevent him from being corpulent, as becomes a nawab, or from amusing himself with many childish diversions. Indeed, it seems the principal business of those about him to find subjects fit to excite his mirth, and to enable him to while away his existence. Hence, he entertains fiddlers, wrestlers, keepers of bears and of monkeys, and often enjoys the sight of ponies fighting in his flower-gardens. When one of the animals gives the other a good shake of the neck, the nawab claps his hands, and cries, Wah! | wah!' His attendants do the same, and the apartments resound with clappings of hands and shouts of 'Wah! wah !' It is wonderful how all seem to delight in the sport. He is fond of hunting, and is very dexterous with his bow. He also prides himself on his strength, and, it is asserted, can break the horns of an ox from the living animal. Overlooking these foibles, he is kind and good-natured, and pays great attention to

his mother."

Such despot chiefs, taking all they can from those around them, encourage their subjects in like manner to plunder whenever a chance occurs. Our author walked alone on many of his journeys, and on one occasion, he tells us, came up to two mere youths. But young as they were, the spirit of the region was in them. "I made towards them; and as I neared them, they were evidently surprised both at my presence and appearance. The younger lad was inclined to run, but the elder staid him, and awaited me. I could not very well understand them, but saw that my colour was the cause of terror. The younger seemed to think I was a der, and would by no means approach me, although assured by the other that I was only a man, and there was no reason to fear. The latter asked me to extend my arm, and, as I thought he did so with a view of assuring his companion, I complied, when he seized my wrist, and wrenching it round, brought me, without power of resistance, to the ground. He called upon his friend to come and examine the bundle I carried on my back, but no persuasion could remove the fear of the lad, and he kept aloof. The fellow wrenched my wrist more and more, until I roared out that I was the nawab's nukar, or servant; at which he suddenly relinquished his hold and retired, allowing me to recover my feet. Seeing the mention of the nawab terrified him, I denounced all vengeance on him, when he pointed to his camels, and asked me if I would drink some milk. I asked whether he had a piala, or bowl, and found that he intended to milk into my hands, which I declined, as I should have placed myself in a position which might have disposed him to take another advantage." The author got free of them, but made a narrow escape, on the whole, from perishing unheard-of by the hands of a reckless boy, and leaving his bones to bleach in some nook of these perilous plains.

The city of Kandahar (or Candahar) having acquired fresh eminence lately as one of the capitals of the district of Cabul (or Kabal, as our author calls it), his account of it may prove not uninteresting "The city of Kandahar is surrounded by mud walls, which have a circumference of three miles. There are, I believe, seventeen towers on each face, besides the angular ones; and a trench was carried round,

tive of Various Journeys in Balochistan, Affghanistan,

and the Panja; .luding a residence in those countries from 1826 to 1833. By Charles Masson, Esq. London: R. Bentley.

842.

under the direction of the late Sirdar Shir Dil Khan. Its situation is convenient, as it is on no side commanded; and it has five gates, one of which opening upon the id-gah, and leading into the citadel, is generally closed up. The citadel occupies the north-west quarter of the city, and is said to have been built by Shahzada Kamran, who formerly held the government of the city and country. The principal bazaars are wide and spacious, and had originally avenues of trees and canals leading along either side of them, but they are not now well preserved. No city can be better supplied with water, which is brought by large canals from the Arghassan river, and then distributed by so many minor ones, that there is perhaps no house which has not one of them passing through its yard. There are also many wells, and the water is considered preferable to that of the canals as a beverage. Of the area included within the city walls, so much is spread over with ruinous and deserted houses, extensive courts, gardens, and ranges of stabling, that it is probable there are not above five thousand inhabited houses, by which estimate the population would be from twenty-five to thirty thousand souls. Notwithstanding, the city is acknowledged to be the takht, or metropolis, of the Duranis. The public mosques, and other buildings, are by no means handsome, arising principally, perhaps, from a deficiency of materials; and this evil has been detrimental to the substantial erection of the city generally, the houses being almost universally built of unburnt bricks, and covered with domes, there being no fuel to burn bricks, and no timber to make flat roofs.

The residences of the sirdars, while large and sufficiently commodious, display no architectural taste or beauty; the balconies of their balla khanas, or upper rooms, are, indeed, curiously carved in wood, and constitute their chief ornamental appendages. The arg, or citadel, being constructed of kiln-burnt bricks, appears to advantage from the exterior, and the entrance is somewhat imposing. Within, the palaces of the former kings, with their painted chambers, are desolate, or occupied by the menials of the present rulers, who seem studiously to avoid residing in them.

The bazaars are well supplied with good and cheap provisions, and with a great abundance of excellent fruits. Kabal is famed for the quantity, Kandahar for the quality, of its fruits; yet I found them so reasonable that a maund, or several English pounds of grapes, was purchased for a pais; and figs, plums, apricots, peaches, pears, melons, and almonds, were nearly as cheap. The pomegranates of Kandahar are, perhaps, unsurpassed, and justly enjoy a great repute in these countries. Meat, while very good, is not perhaps so cheap as at Kabal, but roghan, so generally used, and bread, are cheaper, as are curds and eggs; of the latter ten or twelve being sold for one pais. It is a great blessing to these countries that subsistence is so cheap, and that the poorer classes are, consequently, little affected by the struggles for political ascendancy amongst the chiefs. Fuel is one of the articles considered dear, and is brought from a distance." If we persist in forcing a settlement to the west of the Indus, Kandahar must become one of the main stations for the maintenance of our power and the prosecution of our industry. "Kandahar," says our author, " contains, in its fertility and resources, all the elements of a powerful state." But, as hinted in a late article in this Journal, everything seems to indicate, that the wisest plan for Britain to pursue at present would be to keep to the east of the Indus, and settle her power safely there.

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Another specimen of the mode of treating unprotected travellers on the Indus, may interest the reader more than any descriptive extract. Shortly after leaving Kandahar on foot, Mr Masson encountered a camel-caravan, the men accompanying which were settled for the evening. "Found about one hundred and twenty tents, arranged in a semicircular form; in front of which were two spots, enclosed by stones, which served as masjits. It being the time of evening prayer, I went up to one of these, and saluted with the usual salam alikam, and was invited to sit down. When prayers were finished, one of the men, decently apparelled, said to me, Doudi kouri dil ter razi, which signifies, If you will eat bread, come here.' I accepted the invitation, and accompanied him to his tent, which was well furnished, after the fashion of the country; and before the entrance were picqueted three tolerable horses. The whole had an appearance of easy circumstances, indeed of comparative opulence. Bread was cooked expressly for me, water was brought to wash my hands before eating, and I was encouraged to eat heartily. I felt perfectly at ease, and was doing justice to my entertainment, having fasted throughout the day, when another man came in, and seated himself by my side. The repast being finished, the new visitant applied a rather rude slap on my cheek; at which I merely smiled, presuming it was intended as a joke, and although a severe one, yet, as these savages understand little of decency, and being alone among so many, it was but common prudence to pass it off lightly. He then asked me for my upper garment. This I refused, still thinking him disposed to be merry. I, however, found, to my cost, he was not trifling, for he despoiled me of it by force, as well as of my headdress, &c. ; in short, left me nothing but my perjamas and shoes. He also applied two or three additional slaps on the cheek, and a liberal allowance of terms of abuse in Persian, which was all he knew of that language. This he did in ridicule of my ignorance of

Pashto, which he was continually urging me to speak. During this time, my worthy host, the master of the tent, encouraged and abetted my despoiler, and received some pais which were in a pocket of my upper garment. The clothes were detained by the other ruffian, who, after a while, conducted me to his tent, one much smaller, and of mean appearance. He bade me sit down by the fire and warm myself, and in due time spread felts on the ground by the fireside, which were to serve me for a bed, and informed me I might repose myself; cautioning me, as I understood him, not to attempt to escape during the night, for I should be certainly seized by the dogs. I stretched myself on my sorrowful bed, and ruminated on my deplorable situation-consoling myself, however, that it did not appear the intention of my friend to despoil me of my perjamas, in the web-cord of which was my small stock of money; and calculating on certainly reaching the kafila the next day, if allowed to depart in the morning, and if I should be able to repair my deficiency of raiment. Still my situation was sufficiently wretched; yet, from the fatigue of the day's march, the power of a naturally strong constitution, and the presence of the fire, I shortly fell asleep, and enjoyed uninterrupted repose during the night, awaking only in the morning when kicked by my host, who called me a kafr, or infidel, for not rising to say prayers, which he presently repeated in the very clothes of which he had despoiled me the preceding evening. I was now led into the tent in which I had been originally entertained, where several other men were assembled. Here I was beat with sticks and cords, and had some large stones thrown at me. I made no doubt but it was intended to destroy me; I therefore collected my spirits, and resolved to meet my fate with firmness, and betray no marks of weakness or dejection.

While a stone is within reach, the Patans of these countries are never at a loss for offensive weapons. I have seen severe wounds inflicted by these missiles. They assert that Cain killed Abel with stones, which appears to have established a precedent for their use.

One of the camel-drivers told me to mount a camel, but I could not catch one. I learned that they were proceeding to Robat. They were those I had passed the day before. We marched four or five koss, when they halted, and told me that in the evening they should go to Robat. I would have continued my journey, but, alas! I was to encounter robbery anew. My clothing and money were now taken, and I was entirely stripped. In return for my perjamas, they gave me a ragged pair, which did not cover my knees; my shoes alone escaped, being either too large or too small for their several feet. I did not part with my money or apparel very willingly or very peaceably; in fact, one of the ruffians unsheathed his sword, but the others forbade violence. I appealed to them as men and Mussulmans, but this only excited their laughter." Mr Masson, however, got into the train of a kafila or travelling band, and, though suffering greatly, contrived to creep along with them till he obtained help and means.

GLASGOW WATER-WORKS. WHILE on a late visit to Glasgow, we were much pleased with the manner in which that large and populous city was supplied with water. Although situated on the margin of a fine flowing river, the ill supplied with that necessary article. A century town, in comparatively recent times, was exceedingly ago, or less, the only water procurable in the streets was from wells, a few of which still exist, and are held in peculiar favour by some of the citizens. The first incentive to establish a public water-company was given, in 1804, by Mr William Harley, who constructed a reservoir at Willow Bank. The building is still standing, with the golden fish on its apex. He supplied it with spring-water from the adjacent lands, which he dispensed to the inhabitants at a small price, through the medium of water-butts carried from street to street. The success which attended this experiment gave rise to the Glasgow and the Cranston-hill water-companies. The former was incorporated by act of parliament in 1806, for the purpose of supplying the city, for the first time, with filtered water from the Clyde; the latter, having a similar object in view, was incorporated in 1808. During a number of years, these bodies went on independently; but afterwards a junction was formed between them, which received the sanction of parliament in 1838. The proprietary of the united company, which is very numerous, embraces a large majority of the monied men of the west of Scotland, and is possessed of great local influence.

The works of the company are very pleasantly situated on the banks of the Clyde, about two miles above the city. In proceeding towards them, our path lies through the "Green"-a splendid and favourite arena for recreation, health, and pleasurescarcely surpassed, indeed, by any of the parks of London. It comprises about 140 acres of fine grass land, skirting the northern bank of the river. Under the auspices of the late Dr Cleland, the whole superficies has been levelled and beautified, and a fine car. riage-drive formed, nearly three miles in length, which is frequently used by pleasure parties, on horse

back or in carriages. Here all military displays and extraordinary meetings take place. Near the entrance at the west end stands an obelisk, erected to the memory of Lord Nelson.

admirably with the elegant buildings by which it is
surrounded. It is lined throughout with cast-iron
plates, and is 123 feet in length by 84 in breadth, and
10 in depth. The whole extent of pipes, with their
varied ramifications throughout the city, amounts to
upwards of 140 miles.

and equally suffering employers, and demanding terms which could never be acceded to. In the autumn of 1831, even while business was getting brisker, the workmen, or the agents of the unions which they had formed, required the adoption of an unvarying scale of prices, and resolved upon a general turn-out in the The supply to the inhabitants, we were informed, event of non-compliance. By this scale, or tariff, the begins about six in the morning, and is continued silk-weavers determined to stand, never reflecting, apwithout intermission throughout all the pipes, till parently, that it was absurd to call upon the employer, from eight to ten in the evening. The population himself suffering from all changes in the market, to of Glasgow, according to the last census, is nearly insure the workmen from the chances of suffering from 300,000; and these works pour unceasingly, like the the same cause. Early in October 1831, the weavers, heart in the human system, the life-blood of a city-pursuing their object, laid the scheme of a wage-tariff WATER through a thousand channels, until it reaches before the mayor and authorities of Lyons. The latter, the most distant and obscure member of the com- intimidated seemingly by so numerous a body, remunity. One has only to witness, for a brief period, ceived the application, and called on the masterthe effect of a partial suspension of the works, to be manufacturers to send delegates to meet those of convinced of the incalculable benefits they confer upon the workmen on a certain day. M. Dumolart, Presuch a city. Time is economised, habits of cleanliness fect of the Rhone, rashly yielded to this arrangement. are formed and cherished, and the sum of domestic "The definitive convocation of the delegates of the happiness is increased. The "well," indeed, has been working-men and of their employers took place in brought to almost every fireside, and fountains made M. Dumolart's drawing-rooms. While the opposing to flow in every alley. Fires, too, those dreadful interests were engaged in debate, an immense multiscourges of a manufacturing community, are extin- tude of the workers in silk, organised in troops and guished by the same means; and large factories are cohorts, advanced from the suburbs to the square of sustained in localities where there is no water, and Bellevue and the square of La Préfecture, immediately where, of course, they could not have been erected. in front of M. Dumolart's house. They were then without arms, without sticks, and they marched in silence and in perfect order. Their chiefs carried wands in their hands as signs of their authority; and the multitude, rallying round the tri-coloured flag, remained inoffensive and mute. That day (the 25th of October) presented a singular spectacle: a perfect order reigned in the disorder-there were no tumultuous cries-no provocations; the working-men satisfied themselves with making a demonstration of their forces. A great number of them, however, penetrated into the court-yard of the Préfecture, and stationed themselves immediately under the apartment where the tariff was regulating. At last, one of their delegates left the assembly, walked down to the square in front of the Préfecture, and commanding silence, said

The Clyde in this vicinity forms the great public bath of the city, to which the inhabitants have at all times free access. In the course of one day, no fewer than 2000 persons have been observed to bathe here. It is matter of deep regret, however, that in a crowded city like Glasgow, teeming as it does with a dense manufacturing population, so little attention should be paid by the public authorities to the establishment of suitable baths. Our continental neighbours are far before us in this respect. After a delightful walk along the margin of the river, we reached the water-works, which we found to occupy both sides of the stream, the motive-power being on the one side, while the aqueducts and filters are on the other. Our attention was directed, in the first instance, to the works on the northern bank. These consist of a series of buildings occupied by nine large steam-engines, two of which, called Goliah and Sampson, are of great magnitude and power, and well merit the names which have been given them. They were made in 1839 by the Neath Abbey Iron Company, Glamorganshire, and have each a 72-inch cylinder, with a 10-feet stroke. They are kept in excellent order, and present the finest and mest elegant specimens of workmanship of the kind we have ever had the pleasure of inspecting. The room in which they perform their Herculean labours is tastefully painted and papered, and entirely free from disagreeable effluvia. The erection of these magnificent machines, with their appurtenances, cost the company L.20,000. Four of the other engines, possessing 54-inch cylinders, with an 8-feet stroke, have received the appropriate names of Jupiter, Saturn, Achilles, and Ajax. At Cranston-hill works, which we did not visit, there are also four steam-cuously than at Lyons a few years ago. The history engines in constant operation. The aggregate amount of motive-force thus at the disposal of the company, is estimated at about 700 horse-power. Attached to the walking-beam of each engine is a very ingenious piece of mechanism, with seven dials, resembling clock-work, and furnished with a pendulum which vibrates in unison with every stroke of the engine, and registers, with amazing accuracy and precision, the number of strokes given in the course of an hour, a week, a month, &c. The superintendant has only to consult this self-acting index to ascertain the quantity of water thrown into the city by each engine during any given period. Connected with the waterpipes we observed mercurial pressure-gauges, of very fine workmanship, for indicating the height to which the water is raised in the city, where corresponding gauges are kept in the engineer's office, by which it can be known at a glance how the supply is maintained by the engines, though in operation at the distance of nearly three miles. The quantity of water furnished by the works daily amounts to upwards of 8,000,000 gallons, besides about 600,000 gallons of unfiltered water, raised directly from the river for the use of several public works. At one period, double this quantity was used; but the factories seem now to prefer filtered water, though at a higher rate.

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INSURRECTIONS AT LYONS. INSURRECTIONS, mobbings, and all other commotions for the purpose of raising the rates of wages, have invariably ended in misery and disappointment to the parties concerned; for the simple reason, that they discourage the adventuring of capital, and paralyse the very moving springs of employment. Their fatal effects have in no instance been seen more conspiof the great insurrection at that city is interesting, and may yield an instructive lesson. It was originally told by M. Monfalcon, a physician of Lyons, whose narrative is here given in an abridged shape.

The silk manufacture, introduced from Italy in the fifteenth century, forms the great spring of industry and wealth in the city of Lyons, a town happily situated on a peninsula formed by the junction of the Saone and Rhone, in the south-east of France. It is the second city of that country, and contained, about the year 1830, a population of 140,000 persons. Of these fully 30,000, including men, women, and children, may be computed to have been engaged, at the same period, in the silk manufacture; and the quantity of silk manufactured may be reckoned, in round numbers, at 700,000 kilogrammes, a kilogramme being equal to 2 lbs. 8 oz. and 3 dwts. of troy weight. The money turned over at Lyons by the silk trade is estimated by M. Monfalcon at 200,000,000 franes annually. "The exportation of the article is greater, by one half," he says, "than the exportation of all the other manufactured productions of the whole of France put together." As the great, though not the sole seat of a manufacture so important to the national wealth and welfare, Lyons, it may be imagined, is a place viewed with deep interest by the entire people of France.

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Having examined the varied and ingenious means The parties engaged in the silk manufacture may and appliances on the northern bank for propelling be divided into two principal classes; namely, the and conducting the water through the city, we were masters, who have several silk-looms of their own, carried across the stream in a boat, to inspect the usually from three to eight, and have a fixed residence aqueducts and filters on the other side. These occupy and the class called compagnons, who work some of the a triangular peninsula, of a honey-comb-like struc- looms of the masters, and receive half of the money ture, washed on two sides by the Clyde, and perfo- gained by these looms, without having responsibility rated in various directions by water-channels. The of any sort upon their heads. When the silk-trade is principal aqueduct or filter consists of an elliptical dull, these latter persons turn their hands to sometunnel 7 feet in diameter, and upwards of 600 yards thing else, and the instability of their position forms in length, sunk ten feet lower than the level of low a great evil in the manufacturing system of Lyons. water, in a bed of sand and gravel, through which the Generally speaking, the compagnons are improvident water filters naturally. This tunnel forms a curve persons, and their habits are immoral. They dissipate parallel with the bed of the river, at about 50 feet upon foolish or injurious luxuries much of the means from its margin. There are, besides, about eight acres which they gain by working five days in the week with of meadow land, and nearly two of sand-filter, on which diligence. They live poorly, their houses are crowded the water is raised by steam-power. The whole water and unhealthy, and sometimes large families are produced by these filters is conveyed through a gra- crowded together in single ill-ventilated apartments. velly subsoil into the tunnel above mentioned. The Their children, boys and girls, are usually brought up water thus purified is brought across the stream to the silk-trade like their parents, and the youths of through four suction-pipes, laid in the bed of the the male sex may be said to be the most dangerous river, and connected with the engines on the nor- portion of the population of Lyons. The elder among thern side. It is worthy of remark, that two of them, youths from fifteen to twenty, are called apthese pipes were designed and laid under the direc-prentices, and the younger are called lancers, their tion of the celebrated James Watt, whose genius task being to throw (lancer) the shuttle in certain and skill triumphed over the first difficulty which pattern-silks. For the most part, M. Monfalcon aspresented itself, arising from the bend or curve in the sures us," neither apprentices nor lancers have received bed of the river, by devising a flexible main or tube, the slightest education. They are turbulent on days constructed of iron pipes, and so connected by move- of riot and revolt, through a mere love of noise. But able joints and hinges as to adapt its form to the these boys were seen, during the days of disturbance, bottom of the Clyde. The water is conveyed into the creeping among the horses, and aiming blows at the city through the medium of four principal pipes or dragoons, which were so much the more dangerous, as mains, as they are called, respectively of 14, 21, 25, and it was impossible to foresee them." They were even 36 inches diameter. As the ground on which Glas- provided with fire-arms, he continues, and showed an gow is built is of great variation of elevation, four utter contempt of danger. intermediate stations or reservoirs have been formed, into which water is raised to the elevation requisite to supply the several districts, and no more; thus economising the power required to be exerted by the steam-engines, and furnishing, at the same time, an abundant supply to those who occupy the highest houses. Besides these reservoirs, there are two others now in course of erection at the west end, to meet the increased demand arising from the rapid extension of the city in that direction. One of these is an extremely handsome massive structure, and harmonises

Such is the character of the class of artificers among whom, in 1831, a spirit of disorder insinuated itself, in consequence partly of the agitating influence of the Three Days of the preceding July, and partly from the effect on the French silk-trade of the increasing competition of Prussia, Switzerland, and, above all, Great Britain. The influence of the latter cause should have rendered them more prudent and industrious than formerly. Feeling a change for the worse, though to no great extent, they adopted a very opposite course, charging the evil upon their guiltless

My friends, people are busy up there about your interests-all goes on well-retire!' At the instant all that host of working-men quietly retreated in the same order in which they had advanced. At two o'clock in the afternoon, the civil authorities of Lyons announced that the tariff was agreed upon and finally settled. This news was received by the weavers with the most lively demonstrations of joy. A tariff had been established on paper, but it remained to be seen if it would work. The men had fixed that work was only to be done at certain prices, but they could not compel masters to give them work at those prices, if the latter should find it ruinous to do so. Clearly, the right of considering whether they were to give work at the prices fixed upon remained with the manufacturers, if liberty and right were to be anything more than mere names in the country. To pursue the narrative of M. Monfalcon-"Scarcely was the tariff promulgated in Lyons, when many commercial houses, alarmed at the prospect of the future, or finding it impossible to pay the high prices demanded by the weavers, came to a determination to suspend all their operations. The great fault of M. Dumolart had placed our capitalists in a frightful positionmany thousand looms were at once left without work. A dreadful fermentation agitated the workingclasses during the first weeks of November. They demanded the execution of the tariff, and showed the most deadly animosity against the manufacturers. Mobs gathered in the streets, squares, and suburbs ; La Croix Rousse (a large dependent town, rather than a suburb) was up in arms, and a hostile collision seemed inevitable. A grand review of the national guard took place on Sunday, the 20th of November, for the installation of its chief, old General Ordonneau. Ten thousand men were present beneath the national flag, and had these men been decided in their wish of maintaining order, no troubles could have happened. But it was easy to see, by the alarming countenances of all the companies from the suburbs, and by the apathy of the majority of that armed militia, that some great event was preparing. The citizens of Lyons were left a prey to the most acute anxiety, and people ran everywhere inquiring what would be the probable result of this cruel situation. They were not left long in this state of uncertainty."

The result was a dreadful conflict, which lasted for three days, and watered the streets of Lyons with the blood of its citizens. Hundreds of lives were lost, and, as takes place in every similar scene of confusion, the innocent suffered alike with the guilty. It was on the morning of Monday, November 21, that the weavers of La Croix Rousse placed themselves in an attitude of open insurgency, raised barricades, and planted above their heads a black standard, with the pointed inscription-"We will live working, or die fighting!" They cut the silk from looms, and forced the peaceable to join them or perish. They had abundance of arms and ammunition, and even two pieces of artillery. The civil and military authorities knew all this, and they had force sufficient, of regular troops, to restore order. But they sent, at the outset, only sixty men of the national guard, with arms, but without ammunition, to march upon the barricaded position. "A shower of stones gave them their welcome; many of them were wounded, and the detachment was compelled to make a hasty retreat. Then, indeed, some attacks were made by the troops of the line, but with

feeble means, and not upon one but different points: thus they all failed. An officer was wounded in the thigh-a drummer shot through the shoulder. These first successes encouraged the insurgents; the working part of the population rose like one man."

All classes of mechanics were now involved in the affair, and seized the opportunity to demand wagetariffs. Dumolart, the Prefect, and General Ordonneau, went to speak to the insurgents; they were seized and made prisoners. General Roguet, commander of the garrison, a veteran but invalid soldier, was the only man now found to direct a force against the insurgents. But the latter, secure in the lofty firm-built houses of La Croix Rousse, repulsed all attacks, though at the cost of much bloodshed. On the second day, the soldiers were in possession of but one square, in the whole of the great city of Lyons. They had fought with courage; "but what could cavalry do in a war of streets, under the fire of enemies that were carefully concealed behind gates and chimneys? Many of them were dismounted, wounded, or killed; and several, who were thrown or fell from their horses, were dispatched by the women and children of the weavers."

The insurgents fired on all flags of truce sent to them. True, they liberated the Prefect and General Ordonneau, but only because they saw their victory almost secured. And in reality, the despairing magistrates thought it best to yield, and send away the soldiers. "At two hours after midnight," says our author, "on the morning of the 23d of November, General Roguet yielded to the representations of the civil authorities, and resolved to quit the town with the remainder of the troops he commanded. *** He was followed and assisted by a few men of the national guard. But the insurgents were aware of his movements, and established a strong post at the barrier of St Clair, with the view of intercepting his retreat. A single piece of artillery, and a general fire from the troops of the line, presently forced a passage there. The soldiers, formed in close columns, then cleared with courage and rapidity three barricades that had been raised between St Clair and La Boucle, and beat and threw into perfect disorder the posts of working. men that guarded them; and in spite of a running fire of musketry, and stones and tiles that rained upon them from the houses, they made good their retreat to Montessuy, Caluire, and La Pape, after having lost a number of men. The dragoons, who performed several brilliant charges, suffered the most. A battalion of the 40th closed the retreat, and fought with courage for its protection. But the unfortunate wounded soldiers left behind were stripped, dispatched, and thrown into the Rhone, by a set of weavers, whose fury had obliterated every feeling of humanity. General Fleury was wounded and dismounted in the fatal retreat, and one of his aides-de-camp was killed by his side."

government. But some will say, the insurgents did not abuse their victory. Yes; we must, without doubt, to a certain point, be grateful to them for not having proceeded to extremes and the most horrid excesses, which, however, would have brought down a fearful and inevitable vengeance on their own heads. They did not do to Lyons, and to the capitalists and manufacturers of Lyons, all the mischief that they might have done; but ought this negative merit to make us forget the crime of their impious aggression, the horrors of a civil and civic war of three days, and the deplorable consequences that resulted therefrom?"

Notwithstanding the lesson given by the results of this senseless resort to violence and bloodshed, the workmen of Lyons did not then learn the wiser part. In a second article, we shall advert to the scenes which were presented in that city in 1834, originating in the same, or nearly the same, cause.

A STORY OF LONDON LIFE. Ir was on a winter's evening, in the year 18-, that in the small parlour of a small house, in a narrow and confined street of the dense metropolis of Great Britain, was seated a very every-day sort of group. It consisted of Mr Beaufort Dawkins and his family, the latter comprising a lady who certainly considered herself a "better half," and two daughters of the respective ages of seventeen and fifteen. An important event had that day taken place-nothing less than the formal and legal admission of Mr Dawkins as junior partner in the house of Altamont, Dobson, Smith, and Jones, to whom he had been confidential clerk for more than twenty years. The five o'clock dinner was finished, and a bottle of wine was being discussed, the whole party having drawn round the fire, while in the manner of each were many signs of complacency. There is vast expression in the figure-in attitude, ay, even in a finger-and the most uninitiated would never have mistaken the prevailing sentiment, as Mr Dawkins leaned back in his arm-chair, stretching a very dirty pair of boots towards the fender, and slightly compressing his lips as he brought a glass of ruby wine admiringly between his own vision and the bright flame. He felt that he had achieved greatness, and it is very doubtful whether Newton, after one of his profound discoveries, or Shakspeare after the embodiment of some everlasting truth, evinced so much self-satisfaction. Neither was there much likelihood of any error about the lady's feelings. She had disdained, on this important evening, to ply her needle, as she was in the habit of doing; so, for want of better employment, she twirled her restless fingers in the faded strings of a very fine but rather dirty cap; and in her endeavours to assume a dignified deportment, fidgetted about in a manner which would have been very trying to nervous persons. But dignified repose is difficult for the unaccustomed to assume. Of the two girls, Matilda, the elder, was acknowledged to be the more attractive. Already of a commanding height and figure, with features beautiful and finely chiselled, she was indeed eminently handsome; though perhaps a physiognomist would have regretted a certain vacancy betrayed by the mouth. Yet, withal, there was that self-possession which, with mind and decision, would have formed pride, but, as it was, only constituted vanity. Susan, the younger, formed a perfect contrast to her sister, for her features were anything but regular, and her figure petite. Still, there were people who had the extraordinary taste to admire her; who forgave a mouth they acknowledged was too large, in consideration of the teeth it revealed, and the dimple a smile displayed; and who thought a pair of soft hazel eyes, shaded by a jetty fringe when they were raised and did sparkle, were not to be exchanged for Matilda's dazzling complexion. Susan was the only one of the party who was occupied, and she was hemming diligently a gentleman's silk handkerchief. Matilda was the first to break a short pause, by exclaiming

"Well, now, papa, I hope you will let me have some lessons in singing."

Intoxicated with their victory, the workmen now gave themselves up to riotous indulgence, and went about the streets, hugging one another, and crying, "Les Braves !"-" The Heroes !") They were reeking even then with the blood of their countrymen. But the removal of all opposition restored them, in some measure, to reason. Much property was burned and destroyed; but at length they stood still, as if sensible that wanton destruction could do nought else than bring ruin and famine on themselves. The municipal authorities began to regain some portion of their authority. The population retired to their houses, and, willing to return to work, became aware of the obstacles which their own insane conduct had thrown in the way of their peaceful maintenance. On the 27th of November, four days after the retreat of the troops, General Roguet was asked by the authorities to return with them. He found a humbled population in Lyons. Men were praying for work and food. Revenge might readily have been taken upon them, but happily another course was pursued. Louis Philippe's eldest son, the Duke of Orleans, was to visit the city with Marshal Soult, and he did so on the 3d of December, when he was received with great acclamations. A powerful force accompanied him; the citizens received all not only without resistance but with joy. "And thus," says M. Monfalcon, "finished the history of the three days of November, and such was the winding up of the workingmen's victory. Much blood was shed; brave French soldiers received their death; the first manufacturing city in France was a prey to the most frightful disorder and for what end? Had the condition of the working-classes been improved? Had they succeeded in forcing their employers to adopt the tariff No. The principle of that scheme was absurd, and could never be acknowledged by the government. Had they succeeded in raising the price of their labour? No. Trade can flourish only when no blows are aimed at the liberty and tranquillity of its transactions; and their revolt paralysed it, and condemned the silk manufacture to a long period of inactivity. Had their easy and short triumph attracted the public interest to their cause ?-was their country indebted to them for what they have done? Alas! no. They attacked with an armed hand the institutions of their country-trod her laws under foot, Mrs Dawkins knew her own power. From long expelled the legitimate authorities, and threw our experience, she was aware that in arguments with her city into an abyss of misery. The brutal employ-spouse perseverance was the one thing needful. True, ment of force to resolve a question of trade and industry is equally absurd and criminal, whether it proceed from the working-man, his employer, or the

"Wait, my dear, till we have got into the new house," observed Mrs Dawkins; "I should not choose Signor Crocchini to attend you here ;" and the lady looked round with considerable scorn on the house of the last ten years, where she had drudged, and coaxed, and scolded by turns, but where she had passed, notwithstanding, a very happy period of her life.

"And my dear Dawkins, my dear Beaufort," she continued, "do not let us think of staying here until the notice expires. What is a quarter's rent compared to the appearance of the thing. Now that you are really in the firm, it is due to yourself and your family that you consider these things. And, my love, I have been thinking a great deal of the new house and all our fresh arrangements, and I am sure

we must have a man-servant."

"My dear, I cannot afford it."

"Well, at any rate, a boy-really a youth-tall of his age, of sixteen or so, in a good livery, gives the same air of respectability to a family that a man-servant does."

she did not generally gain entirely the point from which she started, but for this, of course, she made all due allowances. In suggesting the necessity of a

man-servant, therefore, she only expected to gain Mr Dawkins's consent to her hiring " a youth;" and had she lived in the later days of "pages" and biped "tigers," she might with yielding amiability have suffered her aspiring desires to dwindle from six feet two to four feet nothing. Thus a quarter of an hour was well bestowed in settling this important question, and about as much time was devoted to arranging some comparatively trifling matters in a similar diplo matic fashion. A visiter, however, disturbed the party.

"Why, that is Herbert Forster's knock, I declare!" exclaimed Mrs Dawkins; "who would have thought of his coming on such a wet night; did you expect him, my dear?"

"Not I; though, by the way, I have not seen him to-day, and perhaps he has brought me some papers I asked him yesterday to arrange.'

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Meanwhile, Matilda, with rather a sharp "give it me," had taken the work from her sister's hand, and in twenty seconds had arranged herself with wonderful composure at the table, with the whole apparatus of scissors and threads, &c., before her, a very pattern of neatness, precision, and industry. Susan said not a word, though the faintest smile in the world might have been observed on her countenance, as she raised her large eyes to her sister's face. A slight blush suffused Matilda's cheeks; but as she knew this was very becoming, she did not by any means withdraw from the light which fell full upon her, and she was the last to rise and greet the visiter.

Herbert Forster, though only a clerk in the house of Altamont, Dobson, Smith, Jones, and Dawkins, was an orphan, distantly related to several noble families, and had passed the years of childhood amid all the tenderness of affection and the luxury of affluence. His father had been Mr Dawkins's earliest benefactor, and on the severe reverses which preceded Mr Forster's death, Mr Dawkins was in some measure enabled to return the obligations he was under, by procuring for Herbert, at a good and increasing salary, the situation of foreign correspondent (for which his knowledge of languages qualified him) in the mercantile house to which we have alluded. Though humbled in fortune, he was in every other respect so greatly superior to the circle in which the Dawkinses moved, that there is no wonder that Matilda — a coquette by nature was willing to try what power she could gain over him; indeed, he was nearly the first " quarry" for whom she prepared the manifold weapons contained in a coquette's quiver. Latterly, however, he had, to her great dismay, transferred all those trifling attentions which are felt rather than described to Susan, for whom, of course, she, as an elder sister, entertained a due degree of contempt.

So much for the relative positions of the younger members of the party. As for the lady-mother, she liked Herbert Forster pretty well; though, notwithstanding his frequent visits and extreme intimacy, she had not as yet dreamt of any falling in love, either on his part or that of her daughters. The feelings of Mr Dawkins, however, were of a much warmer character; for he loved him almost as well as his own children, and though not a man of talent himself, he had sufficiently the power of appreciation to recognise the superior mind and acquirements of Herbert, and to feel a strong confidence that he would be successful in life. Perhaps the only one talent in which Mr Dawkins excelled (and which, indeed, had been the means of raising him to his present exalted position) was the one in which Herbert Forster was most deficient, namely, what phrenologists call the organ of number. He was, indeed, a first-rate accomptanta talent, by the way, which seldom accompanies a brilliant and imaginative mind, though, if it do, it makes the intellect stupendous. Even on that memorable evening the bent of his mind might have been observed when he interrupted an animated conversation between Herbert and Susan on a point of history, to request the former to go over with him some abstruse calculations; and when these were finished, he proposed a family "rubber,”—more, it is not uncharitable to presume, to enjoy the often-repeated triumph of astonishing the uninitiated by calling the last cards from every hand, than from any other motive.

Kind reader, pass over with me all the bustle, and excitement, and confusion of the Dawkinses removal to the "new house." I must beg you even to imagine their first immersion into a new sphere of society. By small degrees, and in the short space of three years, so great a change was effected in the Dawkins family, that they seemed to form quite a new species of the genus to which they belonged. It is true Dawkins père was still an "every-day person," for the lion changes not his skin, nor the leopard his spots; yet, from the friction of more refined society, into which he and his had struggled, he had acquired some polish, but being naturally a reserved man, circumstances had rendered him less communicative than ever. Assuredly there was a mystery connected with him. Some people talked figuratively of a mine he had discovered, and others of a lottery-ticket turned up a prize. These rumours might be nonsense; but the world always looks with suspicion on unaccounted-for wealth.

But where did the money come from? Ah! that is the question. The Dawkinses now had a really good house, well furnished, and with family arrangements better conducted than might have been expected. The "boy" had long since made room for a substantial

full-grown servitor; dashing parties were given; and even a carriage was kept exclusively for the ladies. And all this was to be supported by the junior partner in the house of Altamont, Dobson, Smith, Jones, and Dawkins, whose share of the profits averaged something less than five hundred a-year. When his partners asked questions, they were satisfied by the rather unsatisfactory answers he gave, implying that his long head enabled him to make fifty per cent. of his own money.

Meanwhile, three years had added many graces to Susan, and had certainly not taken from the personal attractions of her sister; but the mind of each had advanced, and their faint and child-like shades of character had assumed a deeper and more decided hue. They were consequently more different than ever. And Herbert Foster! But he shall speak for

himself.

The scene was no longer the "small parlour," but a handsome drawing-room in G Street. The season the latter end of May, when the thermometer of London gaiety stands at the highest. The time was between three and four in the afternoon, the day Sunday; Venetian blinds softened the bright sunshine which would otherwise have streamed into the room -a room altogether pervaded by an air of comfort, almost of luxury. Its only tenants were Susan and Herbert, and both had remained for some minutes so silent, so motionless, that they looked more like statues than breathing, feeling, beings. Herbert's face was buried in his hands, while Susan, who sat at a little distance, gazed at him with an expression of fixed though tearless agony. At last she rose, and timidly threw one arm across his shoulder; he drew it round his neck, and pressed her yielding form in a long and passionate embrace. "Dearest, you are right," he exclaimed, after a moment's pause; "while we are true to one another, we cannot be quite wretched. But then-ay, that is the thing that embarrasses me-I am poor !" "Herbert, I do not feel that you are poor. Your small but certain income would suffice for more than my unambitious wants. Oh! if you knew how sick at heart I feel of the false and hollow life we lead, you would better understand how I yearn for quiet and content. But you do know; you must have seen the miseries which this struggling life has engendered; the tempers and caprice with which I have to bear, and which have shaken my nerves and undermined my health. And really, dear Herbert, you owe it to me now to be my consolation, seeing that it must have been your love and your instructions which have made me think differently from Matilda, and have rendered me incapable of loving any one less noble, less perfect, than yourself." She tried to be gay, though she was earnest; for hers was real woman's love, which cannot exist, in its depth and purity, without a large share of spiritual adoration to its object the natural religion of a woman's heart. And perhaps when Herbert answered, "Foolish girl, you make me angry," he did not feel much displeased. "And yet," he continued, "what avails it that I deserve you? (She pressed his hand.) Not, dearest, for partly leading out of darkness the blossom which naturally struggled into light, but because my heart is so wholly, so unutterably yours, that it does deserve your own, yourself in return. But what avails it if they will not give you to me-if they have loftier views for you? How frequently do I feel that we were all happier when you lived in the old house, and your father was only a clerk!"

Oh! how much happier! Even his countenance betrays that he is wretched. He looks a dozen years older; and in three years his hair has become perfectly white. I am sure there is some mystery. Where does the money come from which is spent, though we are so harassed by debts ?"

"By debts ?"

"Oh! yes; and by having everything on long credit we pay most dearly. Think, dear Herbert, of the delight of feeling we did not owe a penny; and you know we should manage that even on your two hundred a-year." "I hope so, though not, I fear, without some self-sacrifices from you."

"None-none-nothing would be too great a sacrifice by which to escape the horror of debt. But where does the money come from which, after all, is spent ?" "If I tell you, Susan, what the world says, it is that Mr Dawkins is a successful gambler."

"A gambler! Why now, he seldom touches a card." "Not at home, perhaps, and this may well be the case. If the report be true, it is not surprising that sixpenny whist should have lost its interest, or that he refrains from joining a card-table even at your parties."

"Oh! what a dreadful life!-and what a false and wretched family we are! But do you believe it, Her

bert ?"

"I fear I must. It is better, Susan, with your energy and strength of mind, that you know the truth, at least as much as I can tell you. This very day, while loitering till the hour I knew your mother and Matilda would be out riding, I saw Mr Dawkins enter a well-known gambling-house."

Herbert, he can be kind, and just, and right-thinking
too; and on his consent I rest all my hopes. And Matil-
da, I wish she would choose one of her lovers. I think
she would be much happier than she is at present."
them would choose her."
"Or rather you wish," returned Herbert, "that one of

"Choose her! why, she says there are three or four
anxiously and ardently awaiting her decision."

She says-but I fear we must not quite believe herthough I will grant that she is so blinded by vanity that she is the victim of self-deception, and really does consider herself the irresistible being she describes. It is a very common delusion, I assure you. Matilda is admired for her beauty, but I fear little respected."

This was indeed too true. Neither was Matilda nor her mother surrounded by any adventitious circumstance or connexion that could lend to either of them a borrowed lustre. As for Susan Dawkins, she was like a sweet violet, not really the less to be prized because rank weeds grew around; or like a pure gem, not the less precious because fate had cast it among a heap of rubbish. The rest of the family were deceived precisely as persons so acting and so circumstanced almost always are. Now, in English society-even in what we may only call the upper grade of the middle classes-there are circles within circles, each progressively more picked or sifted than its predecessor. Talent with character, or wealth with character, may pierce to the very centre; and there will be found a sweet and full reward for any exertion the endeavour may have cost-a full and sweet reward which, once tasted, will always be recognised, though perhaps it is not very easily to be described. Certainly the outer circle is a very wide one. It consists of folks which, taken literally, is an achievement at least as prowho are called "dashing," who accomplish that feat digious as would be the discovery of the philosopher's stone; namely, they spend twice their income. In this circle may be included often people of talent, but with soiled reputations, and the riff-raff of many grades and descriptions of people; and it is remarkable that the members of this circle seldom or never advance to the inner and more select ones, though they occasionally drop off into the immensity of space beyond. The next circle is less brilliant but more solid, for it is capable of being cemented by honesty and friendship; and altogether, between the two extremes, there is about as much soiling shell. Surely there is no need to hint that the difference as between the sweet walnut and its outer Dawkins family, neglecting the real respectability and quict happiness which might have been within their reach, had stepped, instead, into the dangerous vortex of that meretricious circle to which I have alluded. So much for the slippery path of error; for perhaps it was not among the least mournful results that Matilda was but little respected."

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case, and others he locked up in his escritoir. Then placing the sovereigns in a canvass bag, and the canvass bag in his pocket, he took up his hat, stepped softly along the hall (just noticing the dial, which pointed to a few minutes past four), and stealthily opening the street door, went out, closing it by means of a latch-key also, without noise. Neither Susan nor any of the servants had the slightest suspicion of his absence, though, by a singular accident, Herbert Forster saw him a second time enter the house to which he had before alluded.

The life of Dawkins was a mystery which seemed to warp the fate of all about him, and his increasing distresses delayed the marriage of the amiable Susan. Six months after the explanations in the library, Mrs Dawkins died; and shortly afterwards, a still greater blow overtook the family, in the elopement of the elegant and heartless Matilda with a personage, an occasional companion of the father; in short, no less dignified a being than the Count de Truccelini.

Alas! for the bereaved father. The wretch who had called himself the Count de Truccelini Mr Dawkins knew to be a gambler and swindler, besides more than suspecting him to be already a married man! And this was the associate to which vice had linked him--the man he had suffered to pollute his pure domestic hearth. With a handsome person and specious address, there could be very little wonder at his gaining influence over the weak minds of Matilda and her mother, to whose ears, also, the empty title he possessed or assumed had a strange fascination. Oh! ye ignorant few, whose band, thank heaven, is every day decreasing; ye who dread enlightened minds in women, and would keep them in darkness akin to your own, will ye not understand that the mind requires light and nourishment, and that if ye will not give it wholesome food, it must grovel in the mire, or seek at best the flaunting weeds which have root there! The wretched father felt that his child was lost, and yet was he fain to try by any desperate measure to save her. He thought he had a faint clue by which to trace the fugitives; and waiting only to write three or four letters on business, he started with post horses in pursuit. One of these letters was addressed to Herbert; but when opened, he found it had been misdirected, being evidently intended for some one else, though whom he could not make out. At all events, it seemed unimportant, though naturally he was much annoyed at thus missing some instructions on business matters which must have been intended for him; but he felt that the haste and excitement under which

Mr Dawkins had written, easily accounted for the mistake.

It is not worth while to follow Mr Dawkins closely on his journey. Enough, that with unwearied steps he pursued the pair, and it would seem did at last discover them in an obscure French town. His own movements were so rapid and uncertain, that he was unable to receive any intelligence from home, and the letters he addressed to poor Susan only served to confirm their worst fears. But at home, oh! how serious were the scenes enacted during the interval of that chase upon the continent.

But the half-sweet half-bitter tête-à-tête of the lovers was interrupted by the arrival of Mr Dawkins. Not that he entered the drawing-room, but they knew he had come home, and that he had ensconced himself in his own sanctum, a room called, by courtesy, the library. To their anxious hearts the present moment seemed a very It was a sharp frosty moonlight evening at the end of favourable one, the absence of Mrs Dawkins and Matilda December, within a day or so of the close of the year, being extremely propitious. To seek Mr Dawkins at once, when a traveller alighted in the city from a Dover coach. and to rely on the force of truth and the eloquence of He called a street-coach immediately afterwards, and sincerity, was a plan so natural and simple, that they felt ordered the coachman to drive quickly to street. it did not deserve to be called a scheme; and strong in Mr Dawkins, for the traveller was our old acquaintance, their own deep feelings, and believing that the realisation soon reached the door of his home. To his surprise, of their dreams was at stake, five minutes more found however, he found some difficulty in getting an answer them, certainly with changing cheeks and quickened to his repeated summons for admittance. He began to pulse, at the door of "the library." Susan knocked tremble. Wayworn and depressed in spirits, he had exlightly, but almost before she could listen to the antici-pected to find the arms of one kind child at least open pated "come in," her hand had turned the lock. For to receive him, and to meet from her with those consoa moment she was startled by the scene which met her lations which the conduct of Matilda had rendered only view. A heap of sovereigns, seeming to her an unimagined too necessary. But in place of Susan, an old womansum of money, was only partially covered by open papers, the sole remnant, seemingly, of his lately well-served with which her father appeared in the act of concealing household-appeared at length in answer to her master's it. Writing materials were before him, and something summons. "Where is Susan ?" cried Dawkins, hastily; like a check-book in his hand, while his countenance was "where is my daughter?" The faithful old servant so livid, and his eyes so glassy, that Susan involuntarily looked at him with anxiety, almost with fear, in her asstarted forward, believing he must be ill. In a few pect. "Oh! sir," said she, "have you just newly arrived? minutes, however, he recovered his composure, and lis--have you heard nothing?" "Nothing-not a word," tened with even more patience and kindness than his answered the alarmed Dawkins; "since my departure I daughter had dared to hope for, to the intreaties and have scarcely been an hour in one place, and have, therearguments of Herbert Forster. Susan had seated herself fore, not heard a syllable from England. No letters on a low stool beside her father, as if thus placed, her could reach me!" He had entered the parlour by this agitation would be less perceptible; while with one hand time, and sunk into a chair. Some moments elapsed ere she grasped that of his, and with the other pressed he could ask the question that most naturally formed against her brow, she in some measure shaded her face. itself in his mind. "Is Susan ill-dead ?" "Oh! no, It was Herbert who chiefly spoke, but a pressure of the sir," answered the woman; "Heaven be praised, she is hand may be very eloquent! That was a strange and well in health; but she has gone for some time to live ever-to-be-remembered interview, during which, in truth, with a friend. She has gone in order to be near the though unprofessedly, the young were monitors of the prison." old; for they talked of principle to him who had been found wanting, and of contentment and moderate desires and truth to a parent who for long years had scarcely recognised one of them.

"The prison!" repeated Dawkins, growing pale as death.

"Yes, sir, continued the old woman. "Oh! Mr Dawkins, have you not heard of the misfortune of poor Mr Forster? He has been accused and found guilty of forgery." "Forgery !" muttered Dawkins faintly, as he started to his feet. "Yes, sir, the firm-your partnersdiscovered that they had been defrauded, and they said, though he denies everything, that he had done it. But my dear young lady will not believe a word against Mr Herbert, and she is always with him when they will allow her."

That brief half hour was a golden one to Herbert and Susan, for in it they won a father's consent to their union. And when shedding grateful happy tears, she threw herself into his arms, he strained her to his heart, more fondly, more proudly, with more self-satisfaction, than he had done for years. But he bade them leave him, and be happy, for he had writing to do, letters to transmit, and at six they would meet again at dinner. They left the room, and Herbert quitted the house, for he felt it would be scarcely delicate to meet Mrs Dawkins until she had been apprised of the happy determination in his favour. For a short interval we must return to the "What! in the day-time-on a Sunday ?" library. The door was now locked; but no matter "Even so. And, trust me, I would be the last to tell through what crevice we peep. Again Mr Dawkins was you such things are; for I deeply feel, that to the inno-seated at the table, again was his face livid and his eye cent and pure vice should still retain the veil with which glassy, though fixed intently on some strips of paper which shame has covered it; but there are circumstances to lay before him. He then wrote slowly, with precision, which 'nice customs must courtesy,' and I think ours are carefully as ever schoolboy penned a copy; but the writ- On that evening, Sir John Altamont was called from of the number." ing did not please him, for, after a moment's hesitation, it the presence of a party of his friends to witness a scene was torn into innumerable fragments and cast aside. which the dullest brain was not likely to forget during Again and again the attempt, whatever it might be, was a lifetime. The man who burst in upon him was his made, and at last, we may presume, he was successful, own partner, but so changed, as scarcely to be recognisfor some scraps of paper he put contentedly into a note-able. "You have prosecuted Herbert Forster for for

"It is all true-I feel it is all true," exclaimed Susan, bursting into tears; " and it accounts for so much misery -for the care-worn brow and irritable temper-for our uncertain means and our wretched existence. And yet,

Dawkins stood for a time as if stupified. Suddenly, however, he changed his manner, and, with a hasty hand, took out and examined some papers from his bag. Placing these in his pocket-book, he seized his hat, and, without a word to the servant, quitted his now desolate house. When in the street, he again called a coach, and ordered the conductor to drive to street, the site of the city mansion of the head partner of the firm of Altamont, Dobson, Smith, Jones, and Dawkins.

The

gery," said Dawkins, with agitated abruptness; "for the love of Heaven fly without delay and liberate him! I am the guilty mun. Here-here are the proofs !" And he took hurriedly from his pocket a mass of papers which the merchant, startled and confused as he was, soon recognised to be connected with the forgeries, and as supplying a missing link which had alone thrown doubt on Forster's criminality. In short, the papers were convincing. Dawkins, meanwhile, watched the face of Altamont with eager anxiety; and when he saw that the other seemed to be satisfied, he again cried-" Fly to save him! I have retained the coach for the purpose. There should be no delay in clearing the innocent. life of my child-now my only child-hangs on that of the guiltless young man!" The alderman, who was sheriff for the time, and was the very person to be of use in such a case, had risen to his feet, and Dawkins observed a confused glance cast on himself. He understood its meaning. In the name of our common Father," he again cried, "answer me-are you satisfied, from these papers, of that guilt which I again solemnly avouch and admit with my tongue ?" Altamont replied gravely in the affirmative. "Then I know you to be a just and a merciful man; I know that you will do your duty," said Dawkins. "For me-may God forgive me! Oh, may God forgive me!" With the words, and ere the alderman could interfere, the unhappy man drew out the hand which he had for some time held in his breast-it grasped a pistol; and, in one instant, he lay dead on the floor, shot through the heart!

We need not dwell on the consequences of this event. Sir John Altamont-for, as sheriff, he had been knighted -drove immediately to the Home-Secretary, whom he made acquainted with the important discovery related. The ultimate consequence, of course, was the complete exculpation and liberation of Herbert. The general public rejoiced deeply in the escape of the innocent young man. More deeply did they rejoice when the rumour afterwards went abroad that Herbert Forster had nourished vague suspicions of the truly guilty party, but that, being uncertain of the truth, he could not and would not step forward to throw a shade on the name of the father of her whom he loved.

Not long after the events related, Herbert Forster might have been found in the respectable situation of British Consul at a foreign port of some eminence. With him was his wife, Susan Dawkins, or she who had borne that name. While Herbert had lain in prison, with a sudden and shameful death before his eyes, she had been his constant attendant, his sole consolation, and he repaid her love by the after devotion of a lifetime. The pair had the sad consolation of giving a refuge to the deserted Matilda, humbled by suffering into something better than she had been in her earlier years.

POOR JOHN FITCH.

Judge Hall, in his "Notes on the Western States of America," thus speaks of this unfortunate projector :"In 1785, John Fitch, a watchmaker in Philadelphia, conceived the design of propelling a boat by steam. He was both poor and illiterate, and many difficulties occurred to frustrate every attempt which he made to try the practicability of his invention. He applied to Congress for assistance, but was refused; and then offered his invention to the Spanish government, to be used in the navigation of the Mississippi, but without any better success. At length, a company was formed, and funds subscribed, for the building of a steam-boat; and in the year 1788, his vessel was launched on the Delaware. Many crowded to see and ridicule the novel, and, as they supposed, the chimerical experiment.

It seemed that the idea of wheels had not occurred to Mr Fitch; but instead of them, oars were used, which worked in frames. He was confident of success; and when the boat was ready for the trial, she started off in good style for Burlington. Those who had sneered began to stare, and they who had smiled in derision looked grave. Away went the boat, and the happy inventor triumphed over the scepticism of an unbelieving public. The boat performed her trip to Burlington, a distance of twenty miles, but unfortunately burst her boiler in rounding to the wharf at that place, and the next tide Hoated her back to the city. Fitch persevered, and with great difficulty procured another boiler. After some time, the boat performed another trip to Burlington and Trenton, and returned in the same day. She is said to have moved at the rate of eight miles an hour; but something was continually breaking, and the unhappy projector only conquered one difficulty to encounter another. Perhaps this was not owing to any defect in his plans, but to the low state of the arts at that time, and the difficulty of getting such complex machinery made with proper exactness. Fitch became embarrassed with debt, and was obliged to abandon the invention, after having satisfied himself of its practicability.

This ingenious man, who was probably the first inventor of the steam-boat, wrote three volumes, which he deposited in manuscript, sealed up, in the Philadelphia library, to be opened thirty years after his death. When or why he came to the west we have not learned, but it is recorded of him that he died and was buried near the Ohio. His three volumes were opened about five years ago, and were found to contain his speculations on mechanics. He details his embarrassments and disappointments with a feeling which shows how ardently he desired success, and which wins for him the sympathy of those who have heart enough to mourn over the blighted prospects of genius. He confidently predicts the future success of the plan, which, in his hands, failed only for the want of pecuniary means. He prophesies that in less than a century we shall see our western rivers swarming with steam-boats; and expresses a wish to be buried on the shores of the Ohio, where the song of the boatmen may enliven the stillness of his resting-place, and the music of the steam-engine soothe his spirit. What an idea! Yet how natural to the mind of an ardent projector, whose whole life had been devoted to one darling

object, which it was not his destiny to accomplish! And how touching is the sentiment found in one of his journals:- The day will come when some more powerful man will get fame and riches from my invention; but nobody will believe that poor John Fitch can do anything worthy of attention.' In less than thirty years after his death his predictions were verified. He must have died about the year 1799."

GOD IN THE STORM.

BY MISS PARDOK.

"Did you hear the storm last night, my child,
As it burst o'er the midnight sky,
When the thunder rattled loud and wild,
And the lightning flicker'd by ?"
"I heard no tempest, mother mine-
I was buried in slumber sweet;
Dreaming I stood in the soft moonshine,
With flowers about my feet."

"Can it be, my child, that you did not hear
The roar of the tempest-breath,

As it scatter'd the rent leaves far and near
In many an eddying wreath ?"
"No, mother; my happy sleep was full
Of gentle and holy things-
Shapes that were graceful and beautiful,
And the music of angels' wings."
"Yet the storm was loud, my darling child-
There was death on the hurrying blast;
And vapours dark over-head were piled,
As the hoarse wind bellow'd past."
"I thought not of clouds, my mother dear,
When I rose from my nurse's knee:
You taught me that God is for ever near,
So what danger could I see?"

"I taught you well, my sinless one;
Yet my own weak spirit quail'd,

As the midnight blast roll'd madly on,
And the moon's calm lustre fail'd."
"Were you wrong, then, mother, when you said
That God's eye turn'd not away,
But in darkness watch'd about my bed
As it did on my path by day?"

"I am rebuk'd!" was the meek reply,
As the mother bent her knee;
"On the lip of babes may a lesson lie--
I have learnt one, child, from thee:
His wrath, which makes the sinner weep,
By a guilty conscience vex'd,
Does but deepen the sinless infant's sleep,
And rock it to gentler rest.

And while thunders hoarsely peal around,
Speaking woe to the worldling's ear.
The Lord in his mercy stills their sound,
When innocence is near:
And while his living fire appals
The guilty here below,
The shadow of the Saviour falls
On childhood's sleeping brow."

MANUFACTURE OF TAPESTRY.

The first manufactories for weaving tapestry which acquired reputation in Europe were those of Flanders, and they appear to have been long established in that country, principally at Arras, before they were introduced either into England or France: the precise period when they were first manufactured by the Flemings is uncertain. Guicciardini, in his "History of the Netherlands," published at Antwerp in 1582, ascribes to them the invention of tapestries, but without mentioning any particular date. Whether the Flemings did or did not derive their knowledge from the east, to them is certainly due the honour of having restored this curious art, which gives a life to wools and silks, scarcely, if at all, inferior to the paintings of the best masters. The weaving of tapestry was first introduced into England in the time of Henry VIII. by William Sheldon; but it was not until the reign of James I. that it acquired any particular reputation. This monarch greatly patronised the art, and gave the sum of L.2000 towards the advancement of a manufactory, which was established by Sir Francis Crane, at Mortlake, in Surrey. The patterns first used for making these fabrics in England were obtained from pieces which had already been worked by foreign artists; but as the tapestries produced in this country acquired greater celebrity and perfection, the designs were furnished by Francis Cleyn, who was retained for that purpose. There is extant in "Rymer's Fœdera," an acknowledgment from Charles I., that he owed Sir Francis Crane the sum of L.6000 for tapestries, and that he grants him the annual sum of L.2000 for ten years, to enable him to support his establishment. To France, however, we are indebted for the great perfection to which this curious and costly art has been brought. Henri Quatre first established a tapestry manufactory at Paris about the year 1606, which was conducted by several clever artists whom he had invited from Flanders; but this, like many similar institutions founded by that monarch, was greatly neglected at his death, and would probably have been entirely so, had not Colbert, the minister of Louis XIV., with a view of providing the costly and magnificent furniture for Versailles and the Tuilleries, again remodelled it upon a more secure foundation, and from that period the royal manufactory of the Hôtel des Gobelins" dates its origin. The working of tapestry, although a species of weaving, is nevertheless so closely allied to the achievements of the needle, that a brief description of the " Manufacture Royale des Gobelins" may not be considered uninteresting or out of place in a treatise on the art of needlework. As early as the fourteenth century, dyers of wool were settled in the Faubourg St Marcel, at Paris, on the banks of the Bièvre, the waters of which stream were considered as favourable to the process of dyeing. One of these, named Jean Gobelin, who lived in 1450, amassed considerable wealth, which his descendants increased, and at length, renouncing the business of dyers, filled various offices in the state. The Gobelin family were succeeded by Messrs Canaye, who, however, did not confine their attention to the dyeing of wool; but under the patronage of Henry IV. commenced the working of tapestry, which,

until that period, had been confined to the Low Countries. To these succeeded, in 1655, a Dutchman named Glucq, and one Jean Lianson, a workman, and a great proficient in the art. Louis XIV., at the suggestion of his minister, Colbert, afterwards purchased the buildings and gardens which were still the property of the Gobelin family, and established them as a royal manufactory. In a charter which was drawn up at that time, the building is called the Hôtel des Gobelins," from which circumstance the tapestry made there has ever since been known as "Gobelin Tapestry." Skilful artists, weavers, and dyers, were brought from Flanders, and attached to the establishment; and in 1667, the celebrated painter Le Brun was appointed chief director of the Gobelin manufactory, to which he communicated that beauty and grandeur his admirable talents were so well calculated to produce.Hund-Book of Needlework.

NOBLE CONDUCT.

M. Dugar, provost of the merchants in the city of Lyons, was a man remarkable for the strict and impartial administration of justice. The bakers flattered themselves that they could prevail upon him to be their friend, at the expense of the public. They waited upon him in a body, and begged leave to raise the price of bread. He told them that he would examine their petition, and give them an answer very soon before they left the room, they contrived slily to drop a purse of two hundred louis d'ors on the table. They soon called upon the magistrate for an answer, not in the least doubting but the money had effectually pleaded their cause. “Gentlemen," said M. Dugar, "I have weighed your reasons in the balance of justice, and I find them light. I do not think the people ought to suffer under a pretence of the dearness of corn, which I know to be ill-founded. As to the purse of money which you left with me, I am certain that I have made such a generous and noble use of it, as you yourselves intended; I have distributed it among the poor objects of charity in our hospitals: as you are opulent enough to make such large donations, I cannot possibly think you can incur any loss in your business, and I therefore shall continue the price of bread as it was before I received your petition."-Flowers of Anecdote.

AFFECTATION OF SUAVITY.

There are some who affect a want of affectation, and flatter themselves that they are above flattery; they are proud of being thought extremely humble, and would go round the world to punish those who thought them capable of revenge; they are so satisfied of the suavity of their own temper that they would quarrel with their dearest benefactor only for doubting it. And yet so very blind are all their acquaintance to these their numerous qualifications and merits, that the possessors of them invariably discover, when it is too late, that they have lived in the world without a single friend, and are about to leave it without a single mourner.-Lacon.

NEW WORK OF MESSRS CHAMBERS

THE INFORMATION FOR THE PEOPLE," which was to consist of 100 numbers, being now on the eve of completion, Messrs CHAMBERS respectfully announce that they design commencing the publication of a new work on Saturday the 3d of December, being the week following that in which the "INFORMATION FOR THE PEOPLE" terminates. The title of this new work will be

CHAMBERS'S

CYCLOPEDIA OF ENGLISH LITERATURE,

CONSISTING OF A SERIES OF SPECIMENS OF BRITISH WRITERS, IN PROSE AND VERSE, CONNECTED BY A HISTORICAL

AND CRITICAL NARRATIVE.

In the INFORMATION FOR THE PEOPLE," the Editors aimed at presenting a body of scientific and general knowledge suitable to the wants of the middle and labouring classes. While that work may serve to instruct, there is need for another which may tend to refine. In the Literature addressed at the present time to the People, there appears, generally, a lack of something to awaken the higher powers of thought-reflection, imagination, and taste-and to nourish at the same time the finer of the moral feelings. These objects Messrs CHAMBERS believe will be in some measure accomplished by the work now announced; in which will be concentrated the most exquisite productions of English intellect, from Anglo-Saxon to the present times, in the various departments headed by Chaucer, Shakspeare, Milton

by More, Bacon, Locke-by Hooker, Taylor, Barrow-by Addison, Johnson, Goldsmith-by Hume, Robertson, Gibbon-set in a biographical and critical history of the Literature itself. For the self-educating everywhere, such a work will be as a whole English Library fused down into one cheap book. For the more fortunate youth who are undergoing a regular education, it will be that and something besides an Introduction to the Pantheon of English Writers, serving, but in a more systematic way and less exclusive taste, the purpose so long served by Dr Knox's "Elegant Extracts."

The "CYCLOPEDIA OF ENGLISH LITERATURE" is under the care of Mr ROBERT CHAMBERS, assisted by several gentlemen of suitable qualifications, amongst whom may be mentioned Mr ROBERT CARRUTHERS of Inverness. It will be embellished with Wood Engravings of the heads of the principal authors, and objects connected with their history.

The work will appear in weekly numbers, consisting of a single sheet in royal 8vo., double columns, uniform with the "INFORMATION FOR THE PEOPLE," and costing three halfpence; and in monthly parts at sevenpence. It will consist of not more than 100 numbers, forming two massive and handsome volumes.

EDINBURGH, September 20, 1842.

LONDON: Published, with permission of the proprietors, by W. S. ORR, Paternoster Row.

Printed by Bradbury and Evans, Whitefriars.

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