'It is true, my dear, that men-servants do consent to wear the badge of servitude; but would they consent to do so if the practice had been until now that they should wear plain clothes? I think not. Your idea of putting female servants into a kind of livery would certainly be quite impracticable.' 'Fifty years ago, female servants dressed quietly and becomingly at any rate, and that is what I would enforce now. Our grandmothers' maids didn't strive to imitate their mistresses.' "They did not; that is, not to the extent well-paid servants do now; but the cause of the change is plain enough. The class from which servants are drawn have acquired tastes and ideas very different from those which satisfied them a generation or two back, and of course those tastes and ideas will shew them selves even in domestic service. Education, imperfect and partial as it is, has certainly somewhat refined the tastes of the lower classes, and the "Betty" who would have been enraptured with a cherry-coloured cap ribbon, has given place to the "Miss Elizabeth" who cuts her dresses out by the prints in the Illustrated London News. In short, as education advances, the tastes of all classes will more nearly assimilate. The age is a levelling one; but one in which, happily for all, the level is produced rather by raising the low, than by pulling down the high.' 'Really, Charles, I had no notion that you would run on so merely because I object to the width of Caroline's dresses; but this, I suppose, is what you call treating the subject philosophically?' 'Certainly, my dear, I wish to discuss this question with you calmly and without prejudice. I am anxious to convince you that your determined hostility to the taste for dress which now exhibits itself in the class of domestic servants, is unwise and inexpedient; and I am desirous that you should reconsider your determination to part with a servant against whom, as you freely declare, you have no other fault to allege than this-if fault it be.' 'It certainly is a fault, Charles; and if education tends to awaken in the lower orders a taste for fine dressing, it seems to me that they won't gain much by it, and I am sure that we shall not.' 'I can't agree with you there, Kate. Education, undoubtedly, has this tendency in many ways, and the result was not difficult to be foreseen. We must expect that the refinements of manners and ideas consequent on the spread of education, will shew itself most distinctly in those things which commend themselves most readily to ordinary minds, and which find the most favourable soil prepared for them. It would be most unphilosophical to expect that when refinement penetrates the masses, it will shew itself only in their virtues, and not in their vices. This would be to expect to create a class beneath us having all our good qualities, and none of our failings-a most chimerical notion truly, and one arguing, in the person entertaining it, great ignorance of human nature. Now, love of personal adornment is universal; and Caroline's taste being more refined than that of her class half a century back, instead of buying a dress of a flaming pattern and half-a-dozen yards of blue ribbon, she aspires to petticoats as wide as her mistress's. If that were the only evil inseparable from education, it would surely be but a very small drawback on its immense benefits.' 'Well, Charles, a poor ignorant woman can't be expected to be a match for such a philosopher as you pretend to be; but I do say that what with one thing and what with another, it seems to me, as dear mamma says, that the world is turned upside down.' I presume, my dear, that your mamma means that other classes are treading on the heels of our class rather too closely. Well, there is no denying that we must go ahead ourselves, if we wish to keep ahead. The advantages we have hitherto enjoyed exclusively are being largely shared in by others. There is no longer a monopoly of education, nor a monopoly of communication, for example; and we must keep our position by extra exertion, if we keep it at all. The locomotive plunges through the land at forty miles an hour, and drags behind it both peer and peasant; the penny-stamp franks the letter of "Jeames" as well as that of "my lord ;" and soon we may hope that a more or less liberal education will be within reach of all but the lowest. We must progress ourselves, and not attempt to keep down those beneath us, even in such a thing as dress-an attempt which will certainly fail, and deservedly so. How should we of the middle class like to be told that we ought to confine our tastes to the standard which prevailed in the middle class in the days of our grandfathers?' 'I don't know, Charles, why you should call us of the middle class. You know that dear mamma's maternal grandmother was descended from a younger branch of’ 'I know all about that, my dear; indeed, your mother takes care I shan't forget that fact, if I forget everything else; but we are of the middle class, nevertheless; and a few years since, even so simple a luxury as muslin window-curtains was thought too good for My grandmother's first pair of muslin curtains were considered quite as absurd in one of her station as you consider Caroline's hoop is in hers.' us. 'Nonsense, Charles. How you run on!' 'Run on, my love. I was never more serious in my life. My grandfather rented a large farm under a wealthy peer; and on one of her excursions to the market town, my grandmother purchased some muslin window-curtains. My grandfather, good man, thought they were almost too grand for such folk, but they were forthwith put up in the best parlour-middle-class people had no "drawing-rooms" then-to the great admiration of the whole house. Now, it chanced that “my lady,” in taking her airing on horseback, rode past my grandfather's farmhouse that very day, and being struck with astonishment at the sight of the white drapery at the windows, at once galloped back to the hall, and thus addressed her lord, who came forth, wondering at her sudden return: "Wail, my lord, what do you think I've seen? Haw! haw! why, muslin curta-i-ns at Fawmer Bra-w-ns, my lord. Pawsitively! fawmers with muslin curta-i-ns. Haw! haw! haw! It's almost as absurd as their asking last year for bells-pawsitively."" Very funny indeed, Charles,' said my dear Kate, with rather a forced laugh, as if not quite relishing the application of my anecdote; and I suppose I ought to give up opposition to hoops for my servants, and agree to' That's a good little Kitty,' said I. 'I knew you were too reasonable a girl not to see the thing in a proper light, when it was once set before you. Nobody thinks muslin curtains a luxury only fit for the rich and great now; and so it will be, nay, is, with the dress of our female servants. All classes are now clothed much more alike-a change not without advantage even to the most elevated. When gentlefolks were broadly distinguished from their inferiors by their dress, they could afford to be coarse in manners and vulgar in mind. Now, they must be superior in order to look so. But I won't moralise any more; I think I have said enough to convince my dear Kate that she has been somewhat hasty in her determination with regard to the dismissal of a servant who has no other fault than a little natural love of dress.' 'Upon my word,' replied my wife, 'you assume very coolly that you have the best of the argument; but now, that you have done philosophising, I should like to ask you a question, to which I must have a plain answer. We poor women, you know, can't argue a bit, and always go round in a circle, as you call it; so I will only ask you a plain question. Will you answer it?' I'll do my best, my dear,' said I, as cheerfully as I could; for I did not quite like the triumphant look Kate had suddenly assumed, and I began to have some misgivings as to the security of my victory. 'Now, then, Charles,' said my wife, 'you have proved entirely to your own satisfaction, if not exactly to mine, that a taste for personal adornment being common to all my sex, it is neither just nor expedient to oppose that taste, now that it shews itself so strongly in our household servants. I believe I have stated your argument fairly; have I not ?' You have put it very broadly, Kate; but that most certainly is the substance of what I maintained. Taking, you see, a philosophical view of' 'Of my parlour-maid's dress,' interrupted Kate, laughing heartily, for she thought she was getting the better of me, 'we ought to say nothing about it. But now for my question. You are, of course, quite prepared to carry out your own doctrine to its legitimate consequences. Having come to a most philosophical conclusion, you are prepared to abide by it. I ask you, then-Will you permit your servants to indulge their taste for dress to any extent they please; and if not, why not? If not, why not? Tell me that, Charles.' 'No buts, Charles; I want neither ifs nor buts. I want you to tell me where you would stop, and why you would stop, without any ifs or buts whatever. Surely a philosopher cannot be at a loss to answer a poor simpleton like me.' 'Short sleeves and low dresses,' said my wife maliciously. 'Well-yes,' I replied, somewhat relieved even by such a suggestion as that, for I began to feel considerable embarrassment in defining the exact point at which I should consider the convenable to have been disregarded. 'Yes, at short sleeves and low dresses, as you say, or at anything of that kind.' 'You will excuse my laughing, Charles'-and the little minx did laugh most provokingly-but really it is amusing to see the philosopher obliged to adopt a plain common-sense view of this weighty matter, after all. However, I don't complain. Why should I? We are getting nearer every minute. I agree to the word convenable, and it only remains for you to strike out a few of the articles you include under that word, and for me to admit-you see how reasonable I am a few to which I object; and we shall be able to come to some ground of common action.' 'My dear Kitty,' said I, 'you really would make an excellent man of business. Nothing can be fairer than your proposition; and precedent, perhaps, will be our safest guide as to what we ought to allow, and what to forbid. What other people's servants wear, let ours wear.' 'No, Charles, I can't agree to that, and I wonder you should propose it. You must think me very stupid, for it is you that are arguing in a circle now. I maintain that certain articles of dress are not proper for my servants to wear, and thereupon you protest that they are proper, because the same things are worn by others in the same rank of life. No, no. It is easy to find a precedent for anything, however disgusting. Didn't your brother tell us the other day, that in the far west of America the servants at the inns waited on him with bare arms, and low, very low dresses? What others do, therefore, will be no guide for me. We ought to decide on principle, Charles, not on precedent.' 'My dear girl,' said I, in a mild way-for I perceived that I should have to make very important concessions 'Why, my dear, you will admit that the best rules-'I must own, that, in the heat of argument, I have of conduct may be pushed to absurd extremities; and when I said that servants should not be scolded because they indulge in a taste common to all womankind, of course I did not mean that their taste should be carried to an outrageous excess. In that case, I should remonstrate kindly with the offender on the impropriety of her conduct.' 'Impropriety! Gracious me, Charles, why, you seem to have come quite round to my side of the question. At last, then, even you will admit that there is a point beyond which a servant cannot be suffered to indulge a love of dress. You see, I am not so illogical and absurd, after all, and have already reduced the question between us to one of degree. Pray, now, at what point will the philosopher stop? Your point is not at skirts eight-breadths wide-at jackets, at tucks, at flounces-dear mamma hates those flounces!-at smart little caps, at lace sleeves, at silks, at muslins, at parasols' 'For Heaven's sake, my love!' cried I, 'don't talk so fast; you fairly take away my breath. Do let me get a word in edgewise.' 'No, Charles-not a word till you tell me where you will stop. What do you consider going too far?' 'Well, my dear,' said I desperately, 'I would stop when the dress is not-I must use a French word, I can't think of any English word which will express my meaning so accurately when, then, the dress is not convenable. Yes, that's the word. When a servant's dress does not appear to me to be convenable, I should interpose with my authority, not before. For example, I should interpose at e, at-e-e-e. Dear me, how very absurd I am-at-e-e.' not been careful to limit the principle for which I have contended within practical bounds. No doubt there is a point at which we should be justified in remonstrating with a servant who indulged a taste for dress; but you cannot deny that mistresses are apt to be somewhat unreasonably severe. If, therefore, I am prepared to concede the existence of a point, dividing that which is, from that which is not, convenable in the dress of our female servants, you must be prepared to allow of a wider latitude to Caroline and her class than you have hitherto consented to do. I have taken what may be called the philosophical view of a by no means unimportant question, and you have regarded it from what may be said to be the practical side of it. But is there not some truth in both? Between-I won't say the short sleeves and low bodies of the "helps" in Wisconsin but between very dressy dressing, and the notions of your mother, there is a very wide range; and surely it will never be difficult for a mistress, possessing only half as much kindly feeling and good sense as you do, to find the means, without giving offence, of keeping a good servant within the bounds of moderation.' 'But, Charles,' said my wife, when I had concluded what I flattered myself was a speech calculated, by its moderation and the little compliments it contained, to bring me respectably, if not triumphantly out of the contest; but, Charles dear, what do you say to that creat to Caroline's hoop?' 'Now, really, my good Kate, you are enough to provoke a saint. I thought the hoop-question was amicably settled at any rate.' 'Perhaps it is, my dear,' replied Kate with pro voking sang-froid. 'But in that case, you consent to put the obnoxious article into our common index expurgatorius.' Consent! Not I, indeed. Why, all my argument went to shew that such trifles ought not to be interfered with.' 'I know it did, Charles; but to my mind it didn't shew anything of the kind; and as dear mamma says' Oh con 'Charles!' MY EXTINCT GARDEN. with the utility of this arrangement to man; since without limestone, the iron manufacture would probably come to a stand-still, because to extract and melt the iron-ore-which is usually found in veins parallel to the coal-a flux or mixture is needed, composed of the ore, coal (or coke), and limestone. The millstone grit is of the least commercial consequence in the whole series. It generally consists of a very hard gritty stone, filled with quartz pebbles, and is looked on with a good deal of disgust, both by the colliers below ground and the farmers above ground the former, because they know that when they arrive at it, they will get no more coal; and the latter, because the sterile character of the stone seems to communicate a similar effect to the soil above, which, as a general rule, only supports a dry, heathery pasturage for sheep. In the north of England especially, there are large districts composed of millstone grit-in Yorkshire, Derbyshire, and Northumberland, as may be seen on reference to the colouring of a geological about 200 feet, and it goes by the expressive name of Farewell Rock, indicating to the colliers that they have come to the end of their tether; though, as there are exceptions to every rule, there are sometimes thin beds, called, in Wales, Rosser veins, found interspersed in the grit. Finally, above these groups, we arrive at the coal-measures, which are of very variable thickness; in the vale of Neath, no less than 8000 feet; although this calculation must not be understood to mean the amount of thickness of coal only, but is inclusive of the beds of sandstone and shale which intervene. I LIVE a thousand feet above the sea, perched up on a hill, shut in on every side by dark mountains and dreary moors, the prevailing aspect of which is decidedly black. Black roads, black houses, black faces shew pretty plainly what a black inside the world has. Being fond of gardening, I determined to have such a garden as should outshine all the sur-map. In the South Wales basin, the thickness averages rounding blackness; but after a desperate contest with the wind and weather, I gave it up in despair. The frost killed the rhododendra, while the east wind nipped the roses; so I turfed up my beds, and sulkily took to planting potatoes instead; when a happy accident diverted my horticultural exertions into a new channel, and with better effect. My new garden had some decided advantages over the old one. It is unchanged by weather; summer's heat and winter's snow have no effect on its contents; and yet, strange to say, at Kew or the Crystal Palace, they require the most careful tending and the most uniform temperature. My garden is not so neatly kept as some tidy people might like, but yet there is order amidst the rubbish. Instead of walks neatly gravelled and turftrimmed, we use iron rails, and in lieu of spades and such-like tools, ponderous pickaxes and shovels; yet notwithstanding these formidable weapons, and the stalwart appearance of my numerous gardeners, the flowers themselves are of the most delicate description; even so fine as to require the aid of a microscope to develop their minuter characters. What is, then, the real state of affairs? In the number of Chambers's Journal for April is an interesting paper, 'A Day with the Woolhope Field-club.' Now, such a garden as mine comes most particularly under the notice of both botanists and geologists of a naturalist's club, so I will describe as briefly as I can a most interesting spot in the earth's past life, without, I hope, tiring the reader's patience overmuch with geological technicalities. Low down, then, in the earth's crust, we arrive at the carboniferous formation, whose hidden treasures have contributed so materially to England's greatness. The reader may learn from the paper to which I have referred, that it is divided into three important groups of strata, of which the lowestthat of the mountain limestone, with its numerous characteristic shells and corals--is succeeded by the millstone grit, which is rather barren as regards fossils-although some are to be found-and the latter, in its turn, is overlaid by the coal-measures. The way in which these respective divisions lie in or upon one another, may be exemplified by three basins, placed inside each other, each of which is smaller than the one beneath it, and therefore allowing a belt or rim of the lower one to be visible. These groups are of variable thickness, but always preserve their relative positions. Thus, though one or both may be absent, yet the grit is never found above the coal, or the limestone above the grit; and, as an example of this absence, we may mention the Dudley coal-field in Staffordshire, where the coal-measures rest immediately upon limestone of a Silurian character. As in everything else of nature's handiwork, we are struck The coal-measures are again subdivided into the upper and lower groups by a thick set of beds, called the Pennant grit, a coarse sandstone, filled with carbonaceous specks, and much used for roofing purposes. Amongst these grits are some coal-beds, in most places scarcely worth the working; in the neighbourhood of Swansea, however, they assume a more important character, being 2125 feet in thickness, and possessing a dozen valuable seams. The South Wales coalmeasures all belong to the lower group; hence, throughout the district, long ridges of Pennant grit are seen running from north to south, towards the Bristol Channel, dividing the country into narrow parallel valleys, which teem with their hundreds and thousands of population, brought hither by the riches beneath. As regards my garden, then, we will dismiss the upper coal-measures, which are principally to be seen in the north of England. The number and thickness of the workable seams differ in many parts of the basin, ranging in number from ten to twenty, and in thickness from 2 to 8 feet. The same seam of coal, too, will be of varying thickness at different works: thus, the Bydellog vein is, at Beaufort, in Monmouthshire, 3 feet thick; at Ebbwvale, 3 feet 9 inches; at Nantyglo, 4 feet; at Clydach, 2 feet 3 inches; at Blaina, 5 feet 6 inches; and at Cwm-telery, 5 feet. The seams are separated from each other by layers of shale, iron-ore, or hard rock, also of different degrees of thickness, which are all gifted with some familiar name, according to the locality. Finally, access may be had to the different seams vertically or horizontally-by pit or level. Everybody knows what a pit or shaft is; but a level is not so common. When a country is very hilly, a way can be pierced through the hill to reach the seam of coal, which has the advantage of not requiring the costly apparatus of shaft, engines, or pumpinggear, and which, in fact, is nothing more than a long tunnel. Hundreds of miles are thus scooped out in level, making an easy and inexpensive way of reaching the coal. But when a vein runs very near the surface, as, for instance, round the shoulder of a hill-then the coal and iron-ore are reached from the surfacethe rock is excavated, leaving, as the work goes on, CHAMBERS'S JOURNAL. precipitous escarpments, from which the ore, or, as The coal measures have long been favourably known to geologists for the abundance and beauty of the fossils contained in them; indeed, as early as 1697, we hear of a geological Welshman, Llwyd by name, who made an excursion into Breconshire, and remarked on the singular construction of the levels, 'wherebie two horsemen could ride abreaste;' but what puzzled him most was meeting with a large mass of shale, fluted regularly, and marked all over with little pits or depressions. He referred to what is now called a stigmaria, a fossil which has only of late years found its proper place in natural history. Every seam of coal may be seen to possess three distinct divisions; of which the uppermost, the roof, is a mass of slaty clay or shale, often the most prolific portion as regards vegetable remains in good preservation; in the middle is the veritable coal, which in itself is nothing less than the carbonised remains of trees and plants, of which only the external structure remains. Lastly, underneath it all is a stratum of thick clay, technically termed 'underclay,' which is invariably present in a true coal-seam, and always contains the stigmariæ, which are the roots and bases of the gigantic trees which afterwards composed the coal. Many of these trees have been found in situ, in Lancashire, Derbyshire, and Northumberland, where, within half a mile, twenty upright stems were discovered on the coast, proving in reality their vegetable nature, and that the underclay was the soil in which they grew. The number of species of coal-plants is about a thousand, of which the greater part belong to the fern class. Of this number, about two hundred have been found in Great Britain; and, singularly enough, species identical with these have been discovered in America, Australia, and Greenland; shewing how great a change has taken place in the temperature of these regions since the carboniferous epoch. From the slabs of shale, which lie about in my garden in such utter confusion, I have obtained above fifty different forms of fruit, flower, and fern, of the utmost delicacy of form. Most abundantly appear the sigillaria, carved in such regular and quaint rows, each little depression marking the place from whence fell off the petiole or leaf-stalk. These are the trees of which the stigmariæ, before mentioned, are considered to be the roots, and of which I have five or six varieties-the oculata, or eyed sigillaria, the reniform or kidneyshaped, the tesselated, and others, named according to the notions of the discoverers. Next comes the lepidodendron, or scaled tree, a gigantic member of the lycopodiacea or club-moss family, which reached the height of sixty feet or more, gradually diminishing, until it finished off with a small tuft or plume. If well examined, each of the innumerable lozenge-shaped hieroglyphics will be seen to be full of a yet more delicate sculpture. Associated with these are numbers of cones or lepidostrobi, the fruits of the lepidodendron. Very frequent also are the calamites, or reed-plants, allied to the marestail, which, unlike the degenerate reeds of the present day, were upwards of 40 feet high, and 3 feet thick. in those days.' More numerous than all these are "There were giants the specimens of the fern tribe, of which there are 150 species known, not one of them identical with existing ferns. The neuropteris, with its finely veined leaves; the delicate sphenopteris, or wedge-shaped fern; the pecopteris; the glossopteris, or tongue shaped; and many, many others, which it would be tedious for the general reader to enumerate. The perfect preservation of this ancient flora could not fail to interest the observer, whether geologically inclined or not. at the state of the earth in which they flourished. Before we close this subject, let us take a glance in rank luxuriance under a tropical atmosphere. We behold, in our mind's eye, huge forests, growing Every tree strikes us as being vast in size and strange in form. We see strange and wondrous forms of fish peopling the waters which surround this primeval jungle; almost the only signs of animal life visible the mailed holoptychius, the fine-toothed cœlacanthus, and the huge megalichthys. But a change at length takes place. There is a fearful convulsion of nature, the consequence of which is a subsidence of the forest, which is covered by the waters of a fresh sea. Ages roll on, and a new forest takes its place, and flourishes like its predecessor, only to be engulfed in its turn. arrives, and the world puts on a new aspect, with new This goes on until a new geological system inhabitants, both animal and vegetable. The result of these repeated subsidences is, that each fresh forest has been compressed by an enormous weight, and at an enormous heat, causing the carbonisation of all its contents, and giving us in after-ages a seam of coal for every time the process was repeated. KIRKE WEBBE, THE PRIVATEER CAPTAIN. PASSION had not entirely swamped the slight stock of advantage that partially overheard conference certainly was bound to keep in view; and if that could only be gained by forwarding a mésalliance between Lucy Hamblin and Jacques Sicard, the distasteful condition character. Mrs Waller's daughter did not need to must e'en be complied with. Sicard bore a fair marry a rich husband, and the young people were strongly attached to each other: so that, positively, unless all novel-writers were arrant blockheads-a notion not to be entertained for a moment-I should be doing a highly meritorious act in assisting to legally unite two loving, ardent hearts, which must else be cruelly sundered-broken, perhaps, who knew! Still, bootmaker should, I re-determined, be the last bait could not quite away with, the bonne bouche of the with which I would tempt the timid maiden to break the strong fetters of habitual fear and subjection, and boldly seize the fortunate opportunity, which missed, might never again court her acceptance. up to a certain point, they had individually a separate game to bring to a triumphant issue. Remember, Webbe, that you cannot play your own game out successfully without first winning mine. This marriage first, or, by all that's sacred or infernal', quoth the woman, the unspoken threat evidently implying that she would at all hazards mar his particular project, should he prove false to her. Yes, but what could be the particular project contemplated by Webbe, to which my marriage with Clémence was the enforced, indispensable preliminary? There I was at sea again, without rudder or compass. The obtain-in deference to an absurd social prejudice which I ment of the reward promised by my mother, and largely augmented as well as guaranteed by Mrs Linwood! What else could it be? But how, on the other hand, would that marriage, simply because I should be tolerably rich, 'utilise' her crime to the woman-conspirator's so complete satisfaction? She might, it was true, count safely enough that in that case the affection, mingled with fear, with which she had inspired the stolen child, would stand between her and the legal vengeance of the Linwoods; but that, it was now apparent, she had boldly challenged by disclosing, through Webbe, the secret of her pretended daughter's birth. The realisation of the reward, which there could be no doubt she would share, was again the only rational solution I could arrive at; and tiring at length of a barren cogitation in which I only slipped from one untenable hypothesis to another, I bent my mind to the elaboration of a counter-plot, which, if carried out successfully, would effectually confound their knavish tricks, of whatever nature or design those tricks might be. I must make a confidante of Clémence, to begin with. She would, of course, have already comprehended that, after her impassioned apostrophe, in my hearing, to the wounded bootmaker, marriage with me, were she still herself disposed to acquiesce in that dreadful martyrdom, was quite out of the question. Then Madame de Bonneville's conversation with Webbe would prove to her that that lady was on the verge of ruin, only to be averted by that impossible marriage, or, as I should put it, by her, Clémence's, flight with me to England, under the protection of some respectable female, whose services a handsome douceur would easily secure, taking with us the necklace, armlets, and other pièces d'accusation; I, on my part, solemnly pledging myself for Mrs Waller and my father, that not only no legal prosecution of Madame de Bonneville should be instituted, but that half the reward, at least, promised to Webbe should be given to her upon the simple condition, that she made a formal declaration, upon oath, of all the circumstances attending the carrying off the child Lucy Hamblin. I could further represent that if she, Clémence, should remain obstinately constant to the cordwainer, the Wallers might, possibly, be brought to acquiesce in her wishes; whereas it was plain that Madame de Bonneville would, for obvious reasons, remain inexorably adverse to such a connection. Finally, I resolved that, should all other inducements fail in determining Clémence to take wing at once from France, I would propose that she and Sicard should be forthwith united in the holy bonds of wedlock, and that he should accompany us to England. would not, however, have recourse to that temptation except in the last resort, and after all less potent persuasives had been tried and failed. The rescue of my father's name from ignominy was the great end I I A good plot-an excellent plot; one that, unless I blundered grossly, could hardly fail of success; and who then would have been led by the nose?William Linwood or the valiant captain who arranged the private marriage, bridegroom personally unknown to the retained priest, settled the scheme of flight, and kept Baptiste in readiness to ferry over the happy pair to the British shore and safety! Really, for a while, I could scarcely credit my own cleverness in devising so glorious a turning of the tables-so delicious a hoist of the engineer with his soundness of my calculations did not long disturb own petard! Modest misgivings as to the perfect or keep me wake; and after a comfortable snooze, I leaped out of bed in a state of entire self-satisfaction, and with a confidence in my own sagacity as cool and clear as the bright wintry morning streaming in broad daylight through the chamber-windows. If Vanity, O paradise of fools, so frequently leads domain, it not the less delights to plunge them, otherwise sufficiently sensible men into thy dreamwhile they sleep, into the real and fatalest quagmires which lurk beneath thy cloud-like, illusive surface! As thus with me: My haste in dressing was arrested by the discovery, that the puce-red redingote and blue silk vest were irretrievably ruined by large patches of lamp-oil. In whirling the lamp round my head on the previous evening, I had managed to plentifully besprinkle those again was impossible. I was consequently obliged to garments with the inodorous liquid, and to wear them have recourse to my original wardrobe; and as the pale-blue pants contrasted abominably with a decent English black coat and waistcoat, they also were exchanged for less gay integuments. The transformation thus effected in my personality mightily pleased me; and necessity having compelled me to so far cast off the piebald costume of the Pas de Calais, two at furthest, it seemed to me that I might e'en and as I was, besides, to leave France in a day or venture to complete the operation. I did so: discarded the atrocious ear-rings, and not without considerable labour and expenditure of soap and water, disBrutusised my hair. The change was really marvellous: I was myself again; and having always piqued myself upon being a well-dressed young fellow, the tion as I surveyed myself to as great an extent as thought flashed through me with a glow of exultapossible in the diminutive dressing-glass, that Mademoiselle Clémence would now see to somewhat better advantage the individual, to accept whom as a husband had involved, on her part, so distressing a sacrifice. There was certainly no accounting for taste; still, as between me and that bullet-headed bootmaker, there could, I flattered myself, be no Quick footsteps outside, and a sharp knocking at the chamber-door, suddenly challenged my attention to an |