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of murmuring streams or in grassy meads," and there conduct myself towards my husband. I formed the give full vent to that passionate and somewhat exag- beau ideal of the consort I should desire, and Provigerated love of romance and nature which form the dence has given me precisely him whom I had pictured principal characteristics of their poetry. On one to myself as the type, the model of human perfection." occasion they went out to a neighbouring village. "I must tell you a new happiness," she 'The weather was most lovely,' says Voss; the moon writes to another, "which increases the number of full; we gave ourselves up completely to the enjoy-my calm enjoyments. Klopstock, who had hitherto ments of nature, drank some milk in a peasant's written out his compositions himself, begins to dictate cottage, and then hastened to the open meadows. them to me! This is indeed a delight! Klopstock's Here we found a little oak-wood, and at the same first manuscript is always written by my hand, and moment it occurred to us all to swear the holy oath thus I am the first to read his beautiful verses! of friendship, under the shadow of these sacred trees. Rejoice in the advent of the second volume of the We crowned our hats with ivy, laid them beneath the Messiah. Abbadona appears more frequently in the spreading branches of the oaks, and clasping each ninth song. Do I love Klopstock particularly as the other's hands, danced round the massive trunk. We author of the Messiah? Ah, for how many causes do called on the moon and stars to witness our union, I particularly love him! But on this account more and swore eternal friendship. We pledged ourselves than any other. And what a love is this! How pure, to repeat this ceremony in a still more solemn manner how tender, how full of veneration! I am most on the first occasion. I was chosen by lot as the anxious he should finish the Messiah, not so much on head of the Bund.' account of the honour which will redound to him in consequence, as of the benefit it will confer on mankind. He never works at it without my praying that God may bless his labours. My Klopstock always writes with tears in his eyes!"'

Among the compensations of that tribe whose badge is poverty, we find love the most remarkable. Elsewhere, love is usually an episode: here, it is an important part of the history, its golden threads interwoven throughout the whole web. We have seen literary men introduced by their works alone to such offices as they were supposed to be capable of filling with advantage; but the same works gave them entrance-sometimes personally unseen and unknown-into the hearts of women. Klopstock affords an example of this. A friend one day read to him from a letter some criticisms on the Messiah, which struck the gratified poet by their depth of thought and poetical feeling. He learned that the critic was a maiden; and although at the moment smarting under a love disappointment, called on her with a letter of introduction. Margaretha Moller was one of the most enthusiastic of Klopstock's admirers. Ardent and imaginative, endowed with talents of no common order, with a heart as warm as her intellect was cultivated, the author of the Messiah was in her eyes the ideal of all that was great and good in human nature. To see him, to know him, seemed to her a privilege which would gratify her utmost wishes, but which she could scarcely ever hope to enjoy. Her delight and astonishment may be conceived when she actually heard his name announced. Meta was at that moment engaged in some domestic occupation-no other, we believe, than that of sorting out the household linen-and the room was consequently in no little disorder. Her sister proposed declining the visit for that morning; but the fair enthusiast would not hear of such a suggestion. The linen was quickly concealed, and Klopstock introduced.' In this first interview, at which he found the young lady at once so gifted, so amiable, and so charming, that he could hardly avoid giving her the name dearest to him in the world,' a correspondence was agreed upon. He found that she wrote as naturally as she spoke, and that, besides French, she was well acquainted with English, Italian, Latin, and-adds Klopstock-'perhaps Greek, for aught I know.'

Meta never thought of concealing her love-a love which marriage had only the effect of increasing. "Since Klopstock and I have met," writes she to her correspondent Gleim, "I firmly believe that all those who are formed for each other are sure to meet sooner or later. How could I ever dream, when I knew Klopstock only by his Messiah and his odes, and so fondly wished for a heart like his, that very heart would one day be mine? .. Even in my thirteenth year, I thought seriously how I should arrange my life, whether I married or remained single. In the first case, I settled how I should manage my household, educate my children, and above all,

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The irritable and melancholy Lessing obtained a wife whose admirable qualities acted like heavenly balm upon the spirit of every one who came near her. The spell which Madame Lessing threw over those around her could not fail to exercise a potent influence on a mind like that of her husband's, so keenly alive to all that was good and noble. His irritability decreased; his whole nature seemed tranquillised and softened, and the very spirit of love and concord reigned over the little household.' Wieland's first love was unfortunate, although he was beloved in return. His second was so also; and we mention it because the description of the lady shews, what one is inclined to suspect throughout, that the attachment of the German literary heart is determined by qualities different from physical beauty. A greater contrast to Sophia could scarcely be conceived. Julia was plain even to ugliness; somewhat pedantic withal, fond of talking with a loud voice and dictatorial manner, not unlike the picture drawn of the gifted and unfortunate Margaret Fuller. Like her, too, she contrived to make all these imperfections forgotten by her intellectual charms, and exercised on every one who came within her sphere an influence absolutely magical. "There is nothing in the world I would not donothing that ought to be done, I mean," Wieland writes to Zimmermann, "to win the hand of Julia; but I fear this is impossible." So it proved. Julia was resolved to live and die in single blessedness, and, strange to say, fulfilled her resolution.' Notwithstanding later attachments, however, his early love was never forgotten. At the ripe age of fifty-five, he once more met Sophia. Wieland had inquired after her with some impatience, and seemed most anxious to see her. All at once he perceived her. I saw him tremble; he stepped aside, threw his hat down with a movement at once hasty and tremulous, and hastened towards her. Sophia approached him with extended arms; but instead of accepting her embrace, he seized her hand, and stooped down to conceal his features. Sophia, with a heavenly look, bent over him, and said, in a tone which neither clarion nor hautboys could imitate: "Wieland, Wieland! Yes, it is you-you are ever my dear good Wieland!" Roused by this touching voice, Wieland lifted up his head, looked in the weeping eyes of the friend of his youth, and let his face sink into her arms.'

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But the loves of the poets is too extensive a theme for our space, and we shall conclude by citing the case of Bürger after the death of his second wife, to whom he was even madly attached. Bürger's poems were peculiar favourites among the fair sex, and one of their

It is almost impossible to over-estimate the advantages of such a change. 'When a working instead of a leisure day,' says a committee of the House of Commons, appointed to consider this subject, 'succeeds the receipt of wages, the workman encounters fewer temptations to dissipate his earnings at the gin-shop, instead of employing them in the purchase of necesmaster-tradesmen, and farmers were aware of the benefits which must result to the labouring-class from paying their wages on an earlier day than Saturday, especially if that day precede a marketday, your committee entertain no doubt that feelings of kindness, as well as duty, would soon cause the practice to become general.'

warmest admirers was a Suabian maiden, called Elisa H. Young, ardent, and romantic to excess, she had hung with rapture over Bürger's poems; she had listened with pitying sympathy to the recital of his love and his sorrows, and her imagination had pictured him under the most attractive form. Wayward and passionate, thoughtless and unreflective, now glad some as a child, now plunged into the depths of sadness-saries for his family. If gentlemen-manufacturers, everything by turns, and nothing long"-Elisa was the most charming and the most provoking of her sex. Though far from wealthy, her position was at least independent, and her wit and beauty attracted numerous admirers. As none of her adorers had yet found favour in her eyes, probably because they fell short of the standard of excellence her imagination had formed, she was still unmarried and fancy-free, when the tidings of Molly's [the wife's] death reached her, and awakened feelings which at first she herself scarcely dared to analyse. Bürger, he whose poems had been so long the delight of her heart, now thrilling her with terror, now moving her to tears, was free! That being whom he had so passionately loved was torn from him by the cruel hand of death; and, as Elisa pictured his wild despair, his hopeless anguish, his utter loneliness, her enthusiastic soul warmed with mingled tenderness and pity. To see him, to know him, to console him, this was at first the sole end and aim of all her wishes. Gradually others arose-might she not by her love and care reconcile him to that world which was now become a desert to him, and replace his lost Molly in his heart? She did not pause to consider whether a union with a man double her age, who had already twice entered the bonds of matrimony, would be likely to insure her happiness. She trusted to her charms, to her influence, to efface all remembrance of his beloved Molly, and to mould him to her wishes -a delusion which has blasted the peace of many a fond heart.'

Among the names mentioned by our author are not those of Goethe or Schiller, or of the writers who have flourished in our own generation; but these will form the subject of a future work. In the meantime, we have thought that it might not be considered an uninteresting or unsuggestive service to deduce from the present volumes some slight account of the compensations of literary life in Germany.

And again: 'If the labourer does not receive his wages in proper time on the Saturday to allow him Sunday as a day of rest or recreation, he is manifestly injured by being deprived of that portion of time which it has been the design of laws, both human and divine, to secure to him. If, on the other hand, he receives his wages in time to enable him to make his purchases on the Saturday evening, he is committing an injustice on the shopkeeper by causing him to sacrifice his day of rest by delaying his purchases to the Sunday.'

Nevertheless, we must remember that the absolute and universal stoppage of Sunday trading is impossible so long as the poor are so infamously lodged as they are at present. When seven or eight persons occupy the same room, eating and sleeping, the presence, in addition, of a leg of mutton hanging from the ceiling

which is their only 'safe'-is far from wholesome on the Saturday night, nor is the morsel itself rendered more savoury by the process for the ensuing day; but with respect to commodities which are not perishable, they need never be bought upon the Sunday by persons who receive their wages before the preceding evening. All the weekly labourers in the Queen's employment are paid on Friday, and all those in the government establishments either on day or before Saturday afternoon; while the same is the case with the Metropolitan and City police forces. Moreover, all the Friday-paying firms agree that their men do not keep worse time, and are not less fitted for their duties on Saturday by reason of the change.

that

The Association, as might have been expected, have indeed been far more successful in effecting this THE SATURDAY HALF-HOLIDAY AND alteration of pay-day than in procuring a diminution

FRIDAY PAYMENTS.

A MEMORIAL from the Early-closing Association has been laid before the governor and directors of the Bank of England, with a request that they would sanction the movement by closing the Bank at two o'clock on Saturdays, and thereby confer an important privilege on those engaged in that establishment, facilitate the adoption of the practice in the London banks generally, and at the same time give a powerful impetus to the cause in other quarters.'

of the hours of toil. It is hard to persuade the commercial mind that a few hours given is not a few hours lost, nor does it quite see the necessity of refreshing the machine' at all-in the case of other people.

Still, there is a very large minority of liberalminded merchants, manufacturers, and traders, who have sympathised with the early-closing movement, and adopted more or less entirely the Saturday halfholiday, including the Stock Exchange; Lloyd's; the Baltic Coffee-house; a large majority of the Upwards of eleven hundred of the leading city insurance companies; the General Post-office in some firms have given their hearty concurrence to this departments; the railway companies in certain diviproposition, believing that no inconvenience can sions; the distillers; many of the brewers; the hoparise to the public from such alteration being imme- factors; the leather-factors; several of the great diately effected,' and their names are affixed to the printers; the wholesale fruiterers; the wholesale memorial. It sets forth that this generous concession stationers; the wholesale booksellers; will not only enable many thousands of the mercan- merchants and brokers; with all the great warehouse tile and industrial classes, with their families-without men to the north and south of Cheapside, engaged infringing on the Sunday-to participate in those the Manchester, Bradford, Leeds, Coventry, Leicester, interchanges of friendship, and to take that healthful Nottingham, and Scotch trades. While, as an relaxation, which constitute some of the chief enjoy-example of the progress of the cause, 'her Majesty's ments, and even necessities of life;' but also that an judges, and subsequently the lord chancellor, have indirect result of great importance will arise from it, established new rules touching the service of pleadin the more general payment of wages on the Friday ings, notices, summonses, &c., to facilitate the carrying instead of the Saturday. out of the movement in the legal profession; and,

numerous

readily availing themselves of these new rules, upwards of seven hundred of the leading London solicitors now close their offices on Saturday at two o'clock.

"The bankers, in some of the principal cities in the north of England, including Liverpool and Manchester, as also in Scotland, have for some years past carried out the half-holiday movement.'

The testimonies of many of the more important firms who have long adopted Early Closing, are very gratifying. It in reality appears that, whilst they have thus conferred an important boon on those in their employ, for which the latter are most grateful, they generally get as much work done in the shorter time as they formerly did in the more lengthened hours of business. Happily for the cause, this is no mere theory, which may or may not be correct, but the actual experience of business-men whose names stamp their statements with truth, and who, moreover, could have no motive to mislead the public in the matter. This pleasing result is, no doubt, partly owing to the greater heart, and more thorough concentration of purpose with which workmen naturally apply themselves to their calling when cheered by the prospect of a few hours of extra relaxation at the end of the week; and partly to the augmented restorative influence exercised by that prolonged cessation from

toil.'

The employers sometimes require an extra halfhour per diem, in order to make up for the Saturday half-holiday, and their labourers are very ready to give it. Without this exaction, however, such a firm as Barclay and Perkins are able to assert that they have closed business entirely on Saturday, at two o'clock, for the last eighteen months, and the plan has occasioned no inconvenience or obstacle to the due execution of our regular work; on the contrary, it has resulted in greater convenience to all concerned.'

Chubb and Son have closed at 1 P.M. on Saturday, for the last eighteen months, and find the system answers very satisfactorily in both their manufactories (London and Wolverhampton).'

Alexander Grant and Brothers, who close at two o'clock on Saturday, declare that it has been very beneficial to ourselves, as well as to our people for whose advantage it was adopted. We get quite as much, if not more, work done, and a better class of men offer themselves for employment.'

The Patent Galvanising and Corrugating Iron Company has closed at two in the summer months, and four in the winter, and the proprietors have found no inconvenience whatever in their arrangement, but quite the reverse, as their men have done precisely as much work since shortening the hours of labour.'

The firm of Truman, Hanbury, Buxton, and Co., whose men leave work so early as at half-past twelve, assert this: "Three years ago, we adopted the plan of giving the men in our employ a half-holiday on Saturdays..... We now complete in five days and a half that which formerly occupied six days to do, and this without any inconvenience; and in the long-run we believe we are gainers rather than otherwise by so doing. Our men are decidedly improved; we get better servants, and the work is done more heartily. We pay all our men at eight o'clock

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streets of London and our manufacturing towns, and have marked the frames and faces of the passers-by. In Scotland, or rather-as we fear we must restrict ourselves to stating-in Edinburgh, there is no such conflict for the bare life; no such penning in unwholesome atmospheres the whole day long; no such ceaseless offering up of human health at the desk and counter altars, as in many other places. The hours of toil are certainly not so numerous as in English towns; and the Early Closing Movementthe Saturday Half-holiday-is, in addition, generally observed.

THE SCOTCHMAN IN IRELAND. THE Times correspondent and such-like literary locusts would appear to have exhausted the Green Isle and the Irish utterly; but the author of Ballytubber, or a Scotch Settler in Ireland,* proves to us that there is something to be said upon the subject still. It really is a remarkable book for some reasons; and not the less that we have in it the Thistle reproaching the Shamrock with its unornamental appearance; the pot contemning the kettle upon the ground of its being black underneath; in plain terms, one who is familiar with Edinburgh Old Town and the Cowgate, giving the rough side of his tongue to the city of Belfast and the sister-land, upon the score, forsooth, of its being overcrowded and not overclean.

Mr Virgilius Penman, as the author calls himself, is certainly not inclined to be complimentary; but there is such an air of truth about what he goes on to say concerning Irish farm-letting, as proves it to be a personal experience. He is himself a Scotch settler in want of a farm. Such excellent demesnes are offered to him (upon paper) in the Irish advertisements, that he scarcely knows which to choose; all in most quiet and respectable localities;' all in sporting counties;' all'in the neighbourhood of Protestant churches, good schools, and markettowns.' Some of these turn out to be such as the thriving city of Eden, in the United States, appeared, in reality, to Martin Chuzzlewit and Company; some are only put into the newspapers in order to meet the landlord's eye, while, all the time, they are engaged to some one at a certain rent, or intended to be retained in the agent's own hands;' and some 'are advertised solely for the purpose of ascertaining from applicants their marketable value, in order to raise or fix a rent for their present tenants; whereby strangers are often induced to incur long and expensive journeys fruitlessly.'

Let it be granted, however, that the unfortunate settler gets his stock and tillage-farm at last, consisting of 300 acres, and situated in that most civilised of Irish counties, Dublin; and suppose that his horses, cattle, sheep, are all that could be wished, and that he is fortunate in his husbandmen; even with these advantages, he is not, it seems, an enviable agriculturist. His wedders are slaughtered nightly, and the skins alone left to tell the tale, while the shepherd who narrates the misfortune is himself privy to the crime; or the sheep again suffer, and this time by a reverse of the felony, their wool being taken and their bodies left torn and bruised, and perished with the cold; or the manes and tails of the plough-horses are found shorn to the skin, and even the tails of the milch-cows laid under contribution.

The settler's most difficult task, however, seems to be the management of some twenty farm-labourers: five of whom, being men, are appointed to the horses;

* Houlston and Wright. London. 1858.

and fifteen women, ten of whom without shoes or stockings, in short, with one-third of their fair superficies in puris naturalibus-their heads, in most instances, uncovered-their vestments consist chiefly of the cast-off attire of both sexes, tucked together by pins and threads, and their hair smeared into cakes by ham-grease, and folded up under a ribbon; others have it hanging in slattern folds about their ears, or twisted like snakes around their temples.' At six o'clock A. M., the work of these farm-labourers is (supposed) to begin; and at the same hour, allowing an interval of two hours from eleven to one, they (very readily) retire. The wages for women are 8d. per diem; and for men, from 16d. to 18d. Let the unfortunate farmer relate his own experience of day the first:

'Day the First.-With the sound of the morningbell, precisely at the hour of six, our illustrious husbandman enters the field. One only of his ploughmen is up to time; one has forgotten his hame-sticks, and has left his horses grazing by the way until he "just go fetch them;" another has let slip out of his hand one of his spirited mares, and is pursuing her about the farm; the fourth has slept in "because his wife was sick;" and the fifth has gone to the forge, having neglected to go on the preceding evening... Of the number of females engaged, two only are forward at the hour appointed, and these are a soldier's widow and daughter. About an hour hence, a noisy band, singing and frolicking on their way, is seen advancing on the field; and at every hour or halfhour from this till past noon are stragglers coming in. The morning, it is true, has afforded a sorry start; but patience is a virtue, and hopes are entertained of a full muster for the afternoon. At the hour of one

the roll is called. Twelve tell up; for though the complement has now appeared on the ground, three of the number are missing-gone off to meet their little boy or little girl, their brother or sister, who was to fetch their "bit o' bread and sup o' tay.""

Day the second is not much better, and day the third is worse; so that, if we are to believe the author of Ballytubber, the Scotch emigrant in search of a farm, who is not gifted with the patience of Job and the purse of Fortunatus, had better go further afield than into the sister-island. Nevertheless, as Mr Penman does stay in the place after all, one may conclude that things get better in time. Here is a description of one of the best contrivances, perhaps, for making them better that has yet been hit upon by those interested in Ireland's welfare-namely, the Court of Encumbered Estates. Its importance causes us-in true Irish fashion-to end our notice of Mr Penman's experiences with an account of that institution, without which they would never have begun. The court is held in Henrietta Street, and the auction generally commences about noon.

'You approach from this street through a goodly dwelling-house, now converted into offices in connection with the business of the court; thence by a long and narrow passage in the rear of this building to the court-room itself. On entering the disenchanting hall, you will naturally uncover, unmindful of the counter-example of some gentlemen you will see there they are up from the wild countries where a new hat is a novelty, and Baron Rds is a man of feeling. Taking your stand or seat as accommodation will afford, and running your eyes over the interior of the chamber, you will see a vast number of men seated on the different rows of benches; some with sharp, lively, trickish looks; others with sad and sorrowful countenances; and some, again, complacently watching at their ease the progress of the business. These three divisions of the company are the lawyers, nominal owners, and intended purchasers; and each order may readily be distinguished |

by the various expressions and emotions impressed upon their features. Some, you will perceive, are following the biddings with a nervous and visible anxiety; others engaged in the perusal of and pencilling on the margin of Rentals; whilst a third order are making notes, and conning over legal documents. The scene, viewed apart from its merits, has something grave and impressive in moral effect; relating perhaps, as it may, to some once noble patrimony, some once hospitable but now deserted habitation, where festivity and mirth seemed to promise endur. ance with the rising and setting sun, about to depart for ever from one whose name has been identified with the soil, whose lease or manorial tenure, once counted by centuries, is now within a few minutes of its eventful end-the glory of an illustrious ancestry about to be for ever severed from the territory which some noble founder had "called after his own name!""

THE FIRST DAY OF JUNE.
SWEET June, I greet thee on thy birthday morn
With song and gladness; now my heart grows young,
As many blisses on its chords are strung
As bright-eyed flowers thy new-wove robe adorn.
Hail to thy coming o'er yon eastern hills,

Treading on gorgeous clouds whose humid locks
Gleam on thy path like gold; thy glory fills
Are steeped in heaven's own purple; the high rocks
Mountain and vale, the meadows and their streams;
The sweet birds in the forest are awake,
And of a new-born joy like mine partake-
The whole earth of its primal Sabbath dreams,
While fragrant airs in wooing whispers come
Kissing the opening flowers to brighter bloom.

J. D.

A MAINE LAW THREE HUNDRED YEARS AGO.

When whisky was first introduced into Scotland, it appears to have been used only as a medicine, and to have been kept strictly under the lock and key of the towns where the Maine Law is rigorously enforced, medical practitioners, as it now is within those American backed by the sympathy and support of the people. A portion of the medical practitioners of Edinburgh-now the Royal College of Surgeons-in 1505 united in their and barbers, and, in that capacity, applied to the townown persons the rather incongruous duties of surgeons council, in accordance with the customs of the age, to be formed into a separate incorporation. The town-council granted the prayer of 'thair bill and supplicatioun,' by issuing the 'seill of cause, granted be the towne-counsell of Edinburgh, to the craftis of Surregeury and Barbouris,' dated July 1, 1505. In the spirit of the times, this document amongst other exclusive privileges conferred on the newly incorporated body-provided and declared that na persoun, man nor woman, within this burgh, mah nor sell ony aquavite within the samyn, except the saidis maisteris, brether and freemen of the craftis, under paine of the escheit of the samyn, but [without] favours.' This charter was ratified and confirmed by an act of the parliament of Scotland, passed in the reign of Charles I., November 17, 1641. The whiskybottle had thus been in the exclusive keeping of the medical profession for nearly a century and a half, and, by this act, it appeared to be irrecoverably placed in their hands.-Rise and Progress of Whisky Drinking in Scotland, by D. Maclaren. Edinburgh: Oliphant.

Printed and Published by W. & R. CHAMBERS, 47 Paternoster
WILLIAM ROBERTSON, 23 Upper Sackville Street, DUBLIN, and

all Booksellers.

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OF

POPULAR

LITERATURE

Science and Arts.

CONDUCTED BY WILLIAM AND ROBERT CHAMBERS.

No. 241.

SATURDAY, AUGUST 14, 1858.

LATTER-DAY COACHMEN. AN elaborate monograph on the omnibus-drivers of London, and their interesting congeners the conductors, would prove an invaluable contribution to the natural history of mankind. Philosophers are much to blame for having allowed the habits of this important class of beings to escape their observation; and unless they make an early attempt to fill up the deplorable hiatus that exists in our knowledge, we shall cease to regard them with anything like respect. My own researches have led me to place the omnibus-driver between the fossil stage-coachman and the modern railway-guard, as I am convinced that he partakes of the nature of each of these distinct types. My endeavours to assign a true position in the chain of being to the conductor have unfortunately been less successful. The peculiarities of the driver are not well marked, owing to his transitional character. Now, his thick shawl wrappings, his countless capes, and his purple visage, recall the old stager; and now, his trim figure and jaunty air remind us of his connection with the railway official. The conductor is subject to still greater variation, his forms being truly Protean. Now he seems a groom, now a curate; sometimes one might mistake him for a decayed tradesman, a man about town, a ticket-of-leave holder, and sometimes, wonderful to relate, for a gentleman. My local habitation is situated at a nice inconvenient distance from Charing Cross, and my frequent journeys to and from town afford me many opportunities for studying the physical and mental characteristics of buss-men.

The Brown omnibuses pass my door every quarter of an hour. From nine o'clock till eleven, these celebrated vehicles are crowded with government officials, West-end banking-clerks, wealthy tradesmen, and all those varieties of the human race comprised under the head of men of business. I have an indescribable dread of these early passengers, and seldom venture to accompany them. They converse in a language I do not understand, and make free use of those mysterious words consols, dividend, percentage, stock, and discount, the true import of which I have never been able to master. All these early commercial birds look as if they had picked up the golden worm, and they all bear the mint-mark of respectability. The old gentlemen who ride inside, and sit staring at each other in grim silence, are unquestionably respectable; so are the severe fathers of families who discuss the state of the money-market on the front-seats; and so, indeed, are those pale-faced boys in long coats and tight collars, who smoke huge meerschaums and

PRICE 1d.

fat cigars on the roof. Nevertheless, I would rather not ride in such good company. I would rather wait till noon, when the mothers and daughters of our suburb begin to besiege the Brown busses, when the driver is being continually requested to pull up for another lady, and when the conductor hears nothing but a rustle of silk dresses and a clanking of iron hoops. The fair ones are bent on shopping, and will return in a few hours loaded with ducks of bonnets and divine mantles. Of course they ride inside, and I have seldom anybody to dispute with me my right to the box-seat.

My favourite driver is young Webb, a stripling over whose head some sixty summers may have flown. I do not know how the veteran came by the prefix of young, but young Webb he is, and young Webb he will remain, until his turn comes to take a trip in that dismal black omnibus which carries only one inside. His youthful spirits may have procured him the title; but I am inclined to believe that there is an old Webb hanging about the stables, and that my young friend is his son. This opinion is not without foundation, as mysterious allusions to the 'old party' are not uncommon in the driver's speeches. Young Webb looks out of place on an omnibus, and feels his degraded position acutely. He drove four horses in former times on the broad Oxford Road—a fact which he takes care to mention every time he sees me. He dresses in a costume approaching that worn by him in happier days, when, as he says, 'nobody thought them railways would answer, and when coachmen was almost as well cared for as bishops.' A light drab-coat ornamented with large pearl buttons covers his portly person; gaiters of the same colour protect his wellshod feet, and an ancient beaver-hat with a broad turned-up brim shades his rubicund face. The hot weather does not seem to affect him in the least, and he holds blouses and straw-hats in great contempt. Plenty of beef and an extra allowance of porter, he assures me, keep his head cool in the blazingest' weather. Young Webb is very communicative; but it is rather difficult to get at the meaning of his enigmatic sentences. I will endeavour to report a conversation we held together a few days since; but his speeches want a running accompaniment of winks, elbow-nudges, and flourishes of the whip, which cannot appear on paper. We were passing the establishment known as Mr De Fluke's Homeopathic Institute, when I ventured to address Young Webb on the subject of that medical man's capabilities.

'Oh, you want to know something about the doctor, do you? Wery likely. Perhaps this ain't the

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