FEMALE EMBELLISHMENTS. (From the Saturday Review.) The apparent object of modern female dress is to assimilate its wearers as nearly as possible in appear- ance to women of a certain class-the class to which it was formerly hardly practicable to allude, and yet be intelligible to young ladies but all that is changed, and the habits and customs of the women of the demi- monde are now studied as if they were indeed curious but exceptionally admirable also and thus a study unseemly and unprofitable has begotten a spirit of imitation which has achieved a degrading success. "Our modest matrons meet," not "to stare the strumpet down," but to compare notes, to get hints, and to engage in a kind of friendly rivalry-in short, to pay that homage to Vice, and in a very direct way too, which Vice is said formerly to have paid to Virtue. Paint and powder are of course the first requisites for the end in view, and these adjuncts have to be laid on with such skill as the debutante or her toilette-maid possesses, which is sometimes so small as to leave their handiwork disgustingly coarse and ap- parent. There are pearl powder, violet powder, rouge, bistre for the eyelids, bella donna for the eyes, white lead and black lead, yellow die and mineral acids for the hair-all tending to the utter destruction of both hair and skin. The effect of this diaphanous" com- plexion and "aurified" hair (we borrow the expres- sions) in a person intended by nature to be dark, or swarthy, is most comical; sometimes the white lead is used so unsparingly that it has quite a blue tint, which glistens until the face looks more like a death's head anointed with phosphorus and oil for theatrical pur- poses than the head of a Christian gentlewoman. It may be interesting to know, and we have the informa- tion from high, because soi-disant fashionable autho- rity, that the reign of golden locks and blue-white visages is drawing to a close, and that it is to be followed by bronze complexion and blue-black hair- a V Africaine we presume. When fashionable Madame has, to her own satisfaction, painted and varnished her face, she then proceeds, like Jezebel, to tire her head, and, whether she has much hair or little, she fixes on to the back of it a huge nest of coarse hair, gene- rally well baked in order to free it from the para- sites with which it abounded when it first adorned the person of some Russian or North German pea- sant girl. Of course this gives an unnaturally large and heavy appearance to the cerebellar region but nature is not exactly what is aimed at, still less re- finement. If this style be not approved of, there is yet another fashion-namely, to cut the hair short in a crop, creper it, curl it, frizzle it, bleach it, burn it, and otherwise torture it until it has about as much life in it as last year's hay; and then to shampoo it, rumple it, and tousle it, until the effect is to pro- duce the aspect of a madwoman in one of her worst fits. This method, less troublesome and costly than the other, may be considered even more striking, so that it is largely adopted by a number of persons who are rather disreputable, and poor. As is well known, not all of the asinine tribe wear asses' ears neverthe- less, some of these votaries of dress find their ears too long, or too large, or ill placed, or, what comes to the same thing, inconveniently placed, but a prettier or better-shaped pair are easily purchased, admirably moulded in gutta-percha or some other plastic mate- rial they are delicately coloured, fitted up with ear- rings and a spring apparatus, and they are then adjusted on to the head, the despised natural ears being, of course, carefully hidden from view. It is long enough since a bonnet meant shelter to the face or protection to the head; that fragment of a bonnet which at present represents the head-gear, and which was some years ago worn on the back of the head and nape of the neck, is now poised on the front, and ornamented with birds, portions of beasts, reptiles, and insects. We have seen a bonnet composed of a rose and a couple of feathers, another of two or three butterflies, or as many beads and a bit of lace, and a third represented by five green leaves jointed at the stalks. A white or spotted veil is thrown over the visage, in order that the adjuncts that properly belong to the theatre may not be immediately detected in the glare of daylight and thus, with diaphanus tinted face, large painted eyes, and stereotyped smile, the lady goes forth looking much more as if she had stepped out of the green room of a theatre, or from a Hay- market saloon, than from an English home. But it is in evening costume that our women have reached the minimum of dress and the maximum of brass. We remember a venerable old lady whose ideas of decorum wers such that in her speech all above the foot was ancle, and all below the chin was chest; but now the female bosom is less the subject of a revelation than the feature of an exposition, and charms that were once reserved are now made the common property of every looker on. A costume which has been described as consisting of a smock, or waistband, and a frill seems to exceed the bounds of honest liberality, and resembles most perhaps the attire mentioned by Rabe- lais, nothing before and nothing behind, with sleeves of the same." Not very long ago two gentlemen were standing together at the Opera. "Did you ever see anything like that?,, inquired one, with a significant glance, directing the eyes of his companion to the uncovered bust of a lady immediately below. "Not since I was weaned," was the suggestive reply. We are not aware whether the speaker was consciously or unconsciously reproducing a well-known archiepiscopal mot. Though our neighbours are not strait-laced, so far as bathing costume is concerned, they are less tolerant of the nude than we are in this highly-fa- voured land. There was lately a story in one of the French papers that at a certain ball a lady was re- quested to leave the room because a chain of wrought gold, suspended from shoulder to shoulder, was the sole protection which it seemed to her well to wear on her bosom. To have made the toilette correspond throughout, the dress should have consisted of crino- line skirt, which, though not so ornamental, would have been not less admirable and more effective. Of course there are women to whom nature has been nig- gardly in the matter of roundness of form, but even these need not despair if they cannot show their own busts, they can show something nearly as good, since we read the following, which we forbear to translate —" Autre excentricite. C'est l'invention des poitrines adherentes a l'usage des dames trop etherees. 11 s'agit d'un systeme en caoutchouc rose, qui s'adapte. a la place vide comme une ventouse a la peau, et qui suit les mouvements de la respiration avec une precision mathematique et parfaite." Of those limbs which it is still forbidden to expose absolutely, the form and contour can at least be put in relief by insisting on the skirts being gored and straightened to the utmost indeed, some of the riding habits we have seen worn are in this respect so contrived that, when viewed from behind, especially when the wearer is not of two fairy-like proportions, they resemble a pair of tight trousers rather than the full flowing robe which we remember as so graceful and becoming to a woman. It will be observed that the general aim of all these adventitious aids is to give an impression of earth and the fulness thereof, to appear to have a bigger cere- bellum, a more sensuous development of limb, and a greater abundance of flesh, than can be either natural or true but we are almost at a loss how to express the next point of ambition with which the female mind has become inspired. The women who are not as those who love their lords wish to be—indeed, as we have heard, those who have no lords of their own to love- have conceived the notion that, by simulating an "interesting condition" (we select the phrase accepted as the most delicate,) they will add to their attractions; and for this purpose an article of toilette—an india- rubber anterior bustle—called the demi-temps, has been invented, and is worn beneath the dress, nominally to make the folds fall properly, but in reality, as the name betrays, to give the appearance of a woman advanced in pregnancy. No person will be found to say that the particular condition, when real, is un- seemly or ridiculous. What it is when assumed, and for such a purpose- whether it is not all that and something worse-we leave our readers to decide for themselves. It is said that one distinguished personage first employed crinoline in order to ren- der more graceful her appearance while in this situa- tion but these ladies with their ridiculous demi-temps, without excuse as without shame, travesty nature in their own persons in a way which a low-comedy actress would be ashamed to do in a tenth-rate theatre. The name is French, let us hope the idea s also and this reminds us of the title of a little piece lately played in Paris by amateurs for some charitable pur- pose-Il wij a plus d'enfants. No in France they may indeed say, It is true il n'y a plus d'enfants, but then have we not invented the demi-temps ?" And if each separate point of female attire and decoration is a sham, so the whole is often a deception and a fraud. It is not true that by taking thought one cannot add a cubit to one's stature, for ladies, by taking thought about it, do add, if not a cubit, at least con- siderably, to their height, which, like almost every- thing about them, is often unreal. With high heels, toupe, and that, we may calculate that about four or five inches are altogether borrowed for the occasion. Thus it comes to be a grave matter of doubt, when a man marries, how much is real of the woman who has become his wife, or how much of her is her own only in the sense that she has bought, and possibly may have paid for, it. To use the words of an old writer, "As with rich-furred conies, their cases are far better than their bodies and, like the bark of a cinnamon tree, which is dearer than the whole bulk, their outward accoutre- ments are far more precious than their inward endow- ments." Of the wife elect, her bones, her debts, and her caprices may be the only realities which she can bestow on her husband. All the rest-hair, teeth, complexion, ears, bosom, figure, including the demi- temps-are alike an imposition and a falsehood. In such case we should recommend, for the sake of both parties, that during at least the wedding tour, the same precautions should be observed as when Louis XV. travelled with the unblushing Chateauroux with bandboxes and rougepots at his side, so that every new station a wooden gallery had to be run up between their lodgings." It may be said that in all this we are ungenerous and ungrateful, and that in discussing the costnme of women we are touching on a question which pertains to women more than to men. But is that so ? Are we not by thus exposing what is false, filthy, and meretricious, seeking to lead what was once dignified by the name of the fair sex," from a course alike unbecoming and undignified to one more worthy of the sex and its attributes? Most men like to please women, and most women like to please men. For, as has been well said, "Pour plaire aux femmes il faut etre considere des hommes, et pour etre considere des hommes il faut savoire plaire aux femmes." We have a right to suppose that women do not adopt a fashion or a costume unless they suppose that it will add to their attractions in general, and possibly also please men in particular. This being so, it may be well to observe that these fashions do not please or attract men, for we know that they are but the inventions of some vulgar, selfish perruquier or modiste. We may add that if we want to study the nude we can do so in the sculpture galleries, or among the Tableau Vivants, at our ease; and that for well- bred or well-educated and well-born women, or even for only fashionable and fast women, to approximate, in their manners, habits, and dress, to the members of the demi-monde is a mistake, and a grievous one, if they wish to be really and adequately apprecited by a men whose good opinion, if not more, they world desire to possess.
GOSSIP ABOUT THE EX-KING OF BAVARIA. We have two or three stray Kings wandering about in all directions (writes the Paris correspondent of the Morning Star.) I stumbled one day on his Wurtem- burgean Majesty and one of his brothers. He is a gentlemanly-looking man, and appeared at the moment I met him intently engaged in the purchase of some of Dobson's unrivalled glass. The aged King of Bavaria arrives here to-night. The old man is eighty- one, but art-in pursuit of which, as well as for love of Lola Montez, he sacrificed a crown-is still his predominant passion, and in spite of the remonstrances of his family, he has undertaken the long journey from Munich to Paris, in order to judge for himself of modern art as represented at the Exhibition. The reigning King, his grandson, remains at Munich until it be Richard Wagner's convenience to accompany him to Paris. It is a curious fact that the old King is by birth a Frenchman. His father, the Count Palatine of Deux Ponts Birkenfield, was quartered at Stras- burg, in command of the Regiment d'Alsace, when his son was born. Louis XVI. was his godfather, and sent him a berceaunette, in which was the colonelcy of a cavalry regiment, a pension of 12,000f., and a bouquet of diamonds worth 80,000f. There is a story that the officers of his father's regiment presented him with a mattress stuffed with their moustaches. Whether the future monarch slept on this military couch or not, I cannot take on myself to assert, but it certainly failed to inspire him with warlike ideas; still, we must do Louis the Art-Patron the justice to say that when the French invaded Bavaria in 1813, he raised the whole country against Napoleon, and fought gallantly at the head of his regiment. His reign, too, was productive of immense good to his people. He suppressed gambling houses, as well as lotteries, throughout his kingdom, reduced his budget, diminished the period of military service, increased the salary of schoolmasters, aided the Greeks to re- cover their independenee, made his capital a treasury of art, and, conjointly with the late King of Wurtem- burg, inaugurated the Zollverein.
TRAVELLING COMPANIONS. (From the Saturday Review.) In the selection of a partner for life nature comes in and helps us to make up our mind passion speaks, if reason is silent; we gratify a caprice, even if the cap- rice is destined to be short-lived and though matri- mony is a risk, at all events it is a pleasant leap in the dark which men and women take with their eyes open. The selection of a travelling companion is equally a leap in the dark. But it is unaccompanied with the delightful flutter and illusion which comes to most people once at least in their lives, and the brief enjoy- ment of which makes up for all subsequent disappoint- ment. A travelling partnership is marriage without a honeymoon. There are no Arcadian dreams about it. The vows exchanged over a Continental Bradshaw are of the dullest and most prosy kind-to frequent the same railway carriage to be faithful to the same table d'hote; to hold fast to one Murray; to keep a common purse and not to part company for the space of six weeks. Yet every one who has tried it is aware of the solemn nature of such an obligation, and that it is not to be lightly undertaken. Novelists tell us that no misery is as great as that which attends the discovery, shortly after marriage, that we are yoked to a companion for life whom we have ceased to admire. Yet one misery is perh aps nearly as acute. It is the disco- very, after a man has crossed the Channel that he abhors his travelling companion. The deadly gloom of the conviction that five weeks and six days more have to be passed side by side with a being whom we have learnt in twenty-four hours to hate is unsurpassed by any sensation common to mankind. After all, married people can separate. A British Court of Justice, with Sir James Wilde at its head, has been established for the purpose of enabling them to do so. But travelling companions have no possibility of severing the fatal knot. What is wanted is a kind of divorce court at the Paris Embassy, where British travellers after a little wholesome experience of each other might repair to sort themselves afresh, and to dissolve easily, and without dishonour or discourtesy, the mutual compact which they wish in their souls they never had made. Even in countries where divorce is unknown, married people are allowed the solace of occasional matrimo- nial infidelity. The travelling companion has not this alleviating resource. The customs of society compel him to stand by his distasteful bargain. He is tied as firmly to his mate as Mazeppa was to his awful horse, and must make up his mind to be dragged over Europe at full speed in close contact with a brute. Such an obligation, as we have already said, ought not to be assumed thoughtlessly, and now that summer is beginning to wane, and the travellers' valentine day is at hand, it is desirable that Englishmen should be warned to pause and look about them before they take an irrevocable plunge which may involve them in two months of worry and disappointment. Sometimes Pythias and Damon manage to return from the Tyrol or from Jerusalem as devoted to each other as when they started from Charing-cross; for there are travel- ling companionships which, like marriages, may be said to be made in Heaven. But, saving the case of these golden exceptions, it often happens that Pythias and Damon come back oppressed with the unpleasant consciousness that they have lost the power of being charmed any longer in each other's eyes. Wherever they next meet, it is with a secret sense of having been found out. Pythias never can forget how peevish he showed himself the night they slept together at the Grands Mulets, cr how thoroughly he lost his temper on a camel in the Desert. It is no use any more to go about among his and Damon's common acquaintances in the old character of an agreeable and entertaining man. Damon has not only ceased to be a friend, but has become a sort of skeleton in the closet, who could unmask, if he chose, in a moment, all such genial imposture. We are positively at the mercy of a shrug of Damon's shoulders, or a sentence in Damon's diary. The sufferer's very familiarity with the partner of his travels has been his ruin. With another man he might have been more reticent, or more self-contained, and less fretful. As it is, he has turned himself inside out, and never again can hope to impose on those who have known him so thoroughly. This is a terrible end of travelling with friends, and when he thinks of it he devoutly wishes he had never travelled about the world with anybody except his bitterest foes. His fate ought to be a warning to all who are about to travel. And the hatred thus begun grows before very long to a white heat. Everything the whistler does only serves to fan the flame. Once awakened to a sense of his imperfec- tions, we go on in a condition of internal fury to criticize all his other performances, and to wish him hourly at the bottom of the British Channel. Perhaps, for ex- ample, the companion has a turn for whistling, of which he is rather proud. It is possible for a person of phlegmatic disposition to travel with equanimity for a day or two with a whistling genius, and, by abstracting his mind as far as possible from his comrade, to live the whistling down. It appears churlish and ridicu- lous to be put out by such a trifle. But after forty- eight hours the whistling begins to tell, and ends by inflicting excruciating agony. At the end of a heavy day, a traveller's temper is not at the best of times a thing to be trifled with, and is easily moved to ferocious antipathies against those about him. The wretched whistler, who at the beginning of the morning was only a bore, at the close of the evening appears an incarnate fiend. Not only does he whistle like a demon, but we observe with pain that, when he is hungry, he eats like a horse and drinks like a bargee. Nothing is so observant as dislike. As soon as we are dissatisfied with the unlucky partner of our journey, our eyes are opened to the weak side of everything he does. His voice seems twice as loud and harsh as when we started. We burn to revenge on him the way he airs his French to the waiters, we hate him in his rising up and in his sitting down, and it is difficult to say whether we most detest and despise his affability to the men, or his gallantry to the women who cross his path.
VINEGAR HILL IN 1798. The following is from" Recollections of the Summer of 1798," in Chambers' Journal:— This hill lies close to the town of Enniscorthy. It is not high, but rather steep, and the rebels were as- sembled on it in thousands. They seemed to have a few tents made of blankets, but the greater number were in the open air. I could see that some were cooking at large fires, while others lay scattered about, sleeping on the ground. It was about sunset when we were taken to the hill, where the men who were our fellow-prisoners were separated from us, and driven like sheep higher up the hill; whilst we, and many more women and children, were ordered to sit down in a kind of dry ditch or trench about half-way up it. We had not been long here, when we were accosted by a female neighbour named Mary Donnelly she was a Roman Catholic, and had come that day to join her husband on the hill. She wept over us, and sat down close to my mother, who, feeling that her presence was a protection, would cower down beside her when she heard the slightest noise and the entire of that night we heard fearful sounds above us, as the men who were brought with us to the hill were massacred one by one. We could hear plainly the cries of the mur- dered, and the shouts of the executioners. Towards dawn, I saw in the bright moonlight what terrified mn more than any sight I had yet beheld: I saw a tall white figure rushing down the hill directly towards us as it came nearer, I saw it was a naked man, and I felt my heart die within me, for I thought it was no living being. He passed so close to me that I could see the dark streams of blood running down his sides. In a few seconds the uproar above showed that he was missed, and his pursuers also passed close to us. One saw me looking up, and asked had I seen any one run past, but I was given courage to deny it. This-as I afterwards heard—was a singularly fine young man, not quite twenty, named Horneck, the son of an estated gentleman in the neighbourhood. He had been piked and stripped, but recovering, had fled thus from the hill. He waded the Slaney, and ran six miles to the ruins of his father's house, where his pur- suers reached him, and completed their work of destruction.
BRUIN AND THE BULL. The following sketch is from "At Home in the Wilder- ness," by the Wanderer At the first blush of morning I turned out, and as others were quite as anxious as myself for the event, breakfast was speedily dispatched, and a general run made for the platform. All being ready, the trap- doors were slowly drawn up, and out rushed the com- batants. I must say, on making their appearance, my sympathies were with the bull, which seemed to me to be much the nobler animal of the two, lithe and wiry, yet withal wonderfully massive about the shoulders, he gave one the idea of a splendid combina- .,hou tion of strength and symmetry. For a brief period he stood glaring at the pickets and people, his head erect, 'his eyes flashing, his nostrils distended, and his whole form fixed and rigid as if carved from marble. The bear, on the other hand, was the more conspicuous for ponderous weight and gigantic strength, rendered more formidable by his terrible teeth and claws. A sharp cut from the end of a lasso roused the bull from his reverie, and as though attributing the insult to his enemy, he lowered his horns, gave a deep grumbling bellow, scraped with his fore feet, sending the dust and grass clean over his back, and then charged. The bear evinced no sign of wavering, but standing erect on his hind legs received the bull much in the same way as he might have done if he had been a trained and gigantic prizefighter. Though some- what unwieldy, Bruin was quick and wary. No sooner was the bull within reach than both horns were clasped in his powerful grasp, and the bull's head pressed to the ground by main strength, he bit savagely at the nose of his antagonist, and raked strips of flesh from the bull's shoulders, with his hind claws, just as a cat fights when on its back. This position was main- tained for some seconds, the bull struggling furiously to free his head; the bear straining every muscle to pin hitil to the ground no apparent advantage was gained on either side, and loud cheers and bravoes were indulged in by the backers of each. To my mind the result of the battle clearly depended on the merest accident. As if by mutual consent, both animals gradually ceased to struggle, and several minutes passed away whilst the combatants, locked in this deadly embrace, lay still, but panting as if at the last gasp. Suddenly the bull, by a desperate jerk, wrenched his head from the grasp of his adver- sary, and retreated a short distance the bear also got up and stood on the defensibe ready to receive him. All watched for the issue with breathless interest. Rendered furious by pain and passion, the bull again dashed at the bear with such impetuous force that, despite the blows Bruin dealt with his huge feet, he was rolled over and over in the dust; endeavouring, as best he could, to defend himself against the thrusts of the bull. Either by chance or design both horns were pushed underneath the bear, and, by a sudden jerk of the head, its side was laid open as if cut by a knife. It was now very evident that Ephraim must soon give up; both were grievously wounded, yet maimed and gory tli-y fought on with the desperate cer- tainty of sueedy death". The bear, prostrate upon the torn turf, vainly struck out with his feet to avoid the horns of the bull. Clearly determined to end the conflict, the bull drew back, and, lowering his head, iii.,i do a tremendous charge but, blinded by the blood streaming over his forehead, missed his aim, and fell headlong to the ground. The bear in an instant rallied and scrambled upon him, and twice they rolled over locked in this terrible death struggle. A few minutes more and the bull's fate would have been very soon settled when, to the astonishment of all hands, the bear suddenly relaxed his efforts and rolled from off the body of his foe. Feebly dragging himself on the turf a few yards, a convulsive shudder shook his massive frame, there was a clutching motion of the claws, followed by a heavy sobbing sigh, and poor Ephraim was dead. The bull managed to get on his legs again and raising his mutilated head, made a weak effort to shake it in triumph, as loud shouts of praise proclaimed his victory. Could the poor bull have understood and appreciated these plaudits it would have been only a brief and fleeting pleasure. The blood streamed in countless rivulets from his wounds, he tried to stand to the last, his legs were gradually stretched wider and wider apart, his breathing grew short and convulsive, his head slowly drooped. Then dropping on his hind quarters and stretching himself on the grass, he died without a struggle.
FRENCHMEN IN LONDON. A Frenchman writing from London addresses Le Sport with the following sketch of high life in London:- The English mode of living consists of numerous re- pasts without much flavour, and a turn in Hyde Park on foot, on horseback, or in a carriage. The amazons and cavaliers may be seen at midday in the privileged ride and at five o'clock a crowd of carriages in what is called the "drive." Sunday, however, is 10 an exception to the ordinary rule, and the fashionable world on that day visit the splendid Zoological Gardens in Regent's Park; that is to say, when a dinner at Greenwich or Richmond has not been arranged. The matinees, however, are much in use among the English aristocracy. The Marquis of Westminster, who owns the land of no inconsiderable portion of the vast City of London, which on the fall- ing in of leases will be worth somewhere about a mil- liard of pounds sterling, held a very numerous gather- ing of this description before his departure for the country. Many of the most eminent politicians and wealthy lords whose names are found in the pages of English history were present, as well as the Duchess of Cambridge. Visitors promenaded the saloons and refreshed themselves at buffets laden with rare and splendid fruit, pastry, ices, and the wines of France and Spain. The admirable picture gallery, containing the ekef,i d'(rtv)-e of Rubens, Titian, Vandyke, Murillo, Hob- bem a, and Salvator Rosa, was inspected with the liveliest interest then the company sought their carriages, after lingering a tolerably long time among these pictorial treasures of art. We must acknowledge that we failed to meet either at this matinee or in other salons those fine specimens of young English girls which were so numerous a few years ago. There are still some young beauties to be seen, but they are rare —rarer, perhaps, than in Paris. They are almost all of them tall and slim, well made, and whose general expression is calm and thoughtful. Dinners are frequent, and the more distinguished aristocracy are invited out almost every evening. During the past fortnight there have been several balls and concerts of the highest class in the fashionable world. Such vast numbers of persons are invited to the balls that the women take their seats on the stair-steps and the men are obliged to stand.
THE TRADES' UNIONS. (From the Examiner.) Further inquiry is to be made into the practices of terror and violence by trades' unions. The disclosures at Sheffield have disarmed all hesitation and reserve and those who have looked most leniently and thought most kindly of the organisations formed for the regula- tion of apprenticeship, wages, and hours of labour feel that half measures are no longer possible, and that it is better now to know the whole truth whatever it be. All honest people must regret that men like Broadhead and Crookes should have had impunity. Was it neces- sary, was it fit ? they may ask. On the whole, we think it far better that the danger and the evil should be thoroughly laid bare, with the view to remedy and prevention rather than by entrapping or enticing a few wretched men into turning King's evidence, that as many more might be tardily brought to justice. Frank and penitent confession where no remorse weighs upon the soul of the discoverer or renders him an object of hatred and resentment to his fellows, is a very different thing from becoming an informer. We do not believe that we should ever get to the bottom of the mischief and misery by the agency of the latter; we have great hopes that what is now taking place will have a salutary influence upon the public opinion of working men, and that it will sooner or later dissi- pate the nightmare of fear and threat which has so long lain like a spell upon them. With elective enfranchise- ment, an unfettered press, the spread of co-operation, and unlimited facilities of emigration, there is no longer the same excuse for the imposition of hard rules of labour which many honest men believed to be indispensable twenty years ago. Secrecy in trade as in politics is going out of date and it can serve no good end to cling to mystery or superstition. We believe that we are on the eve of great changes in our labour system. Public opinion will be found ir- resistible in the efficacy of its influence over questions between master and operative as well as between sovereign and subject, minister and people. The forms of arbitration are difficult to decide or to define. A bill, making the attempt to establish courts of equit- able adjustment between employers and employed, has passed the House of Lords this Session, and will probably pass the House of Commons; and another measure, called the Master and Servant Bill, putting an end to certain anomalies in the law of criminal procedure, is also likely to get through. We fear that Mr. Neate's proposal to afford protection to the funds of trade societies, when the accounts are duly audited, is less likely to receive the sanction of Parliament. But we own that we have infinitely more hope from the steady and continuous action of public discussion, and from the increase of habits of reading and reflec- tion among working men themselves, than from any- thing that can be done by legislative interference.
THE SULTAN'S OPINION OF FRANCE. The Sultan has expressed his admiration of all he has seen in Paris, and his gratitude for the courtesies which he has received. Three or four days before he left he gave audience at the Elysee to a certain number of ladies of rank. Either he does not speak French at all, or he speaks it so indifferently that he prefers conversing through an interpreter; and the in- terpreter is Fuad Pasha, who is an excellent French- man, or was so some 20 years back. During the interview, one of the ladies observed playfully to His Highness, by way, no doubt, of enhancing the favour of the visit she paid him, that she had always been in the habit of receiving the highest personages, and often had Kings and Princes in her salons who paid the first visit to her, whereas in the present instance the practice was reversed. The Sultan answered, or at least his interpreter answered for him, that he considered France to be a beautiful woman, and that as he was the first Ottoman Sovereign who had visited it, the obligation which gallantry imposes was duly fulfilled by him. The Grand Vizier is, by general consent, "un homme d'esprit," and if he faith- fully translated on this occasion, the Sultan has quite as much esprit, and esprit a la Francaise, as his Grand Vizier. His Highness is also said to have declared it to be his intention to introduce French institutions into his Empire! This is easier said than done, but it is stated that he has requested the Emperor to recommend him a preceptor for the education of the heir to his throne.
TWO SIDES TO A STORY. In the Court of Common Pleas, in London, the following cause of Smith v. Hunt" has been tried and the evidence given therein pretends to account for the prevalence of "gravel-rash" in some parts of Lincolnshire The plaintiff sued the defendant, a farmer, for board and lodging supplied to his wife. It appeared that the defendant was married to his wife in June, last year, and that she had left him and gone to the plaintiff, her brother, in November. He now sued for her maintenance at XL a week. The nature of the case will be collected from the following abstract of the evidence given by Emily HuntI am the defendant's wife, and I now reside with my brother near the Old Kent-road. My husband is a farmer at Spalding. I was married to him in June, 1866. He began to abuse me the first day he accused me of dancing with a gentleman, he having been drunk and asleep. On the 15th of June he asked for the key of my box, saying there was a gentleman in it. I said if there was I would keep him there. He reached the gun down and threatened to shoot me. I said he should shoot me in the yard; he shot it at the stack. He used to come home and say I had company, for the chairs were set. I never saw him sober only for a fortnight, and then he was ill in bed. One day, because I would not take my meals with Fanny Mason, he threw three cups of tea, cups and all, at me. He said he would not keep any servant; lie would make his wife a ser- vant. Fanny Mason is the daughter of a shoemaker in the London-road. She often comes. She was there when my brother came down. My husband and his mother and none in the house spoke to me, and I was quite wretched with Fanny Mason, the mistress. His stepmother and her son were in the house. She asked me for the keys, and I never had them again. Fanny used to do nothing but sit with my husband in the parlour, and I did the house work. In No. vember he beat me about the head with his fist, and pulled me by the hair. My brother came down. My husband was drunk, playing dominoes with Fanny Mason. My husband said I never had been, and never should be, mistress. He would give my brother 502. to take me away. He wanted a divorce so that he could marry again. My brother said he could not get a divorce for that paltry sum. After my brother had gone my husband said I had better take myself off; he thought I had gone. The old woman asked if 4s. a week would not keep me. It was then he threw the cups at me, tea and all. Three days after I left and went to my brother. I may have struck my husband in self- defence. Cross-examined by Mr. Seymour: I had often seen him tipsy before I married him, and in a temper; he was hot at all times, but fearful when drunk.5-1 was his mother's ser- vant, maid-of-all-work when he married me. He made love, drunk or sober. I took him for worse, not for better. I never took any gin myself. I had Si. a year. I was maid-of- all-work for three weeks before he married me. I never scratched his face it was the gravel rash he had when lie fell out of the gig. iMuch laughter.) I never threw a knife or fork at him." I know Mr. Dolby to my sorrow. I never in his presence knocked my husband about when he was helpless drunk. Mr. Dolby has interfered and struck me. I never bit him, but I threw the salt-cellar at him. Mr. Snidal has told my brother that my husband was suffering from bruises and scratches inflicted on him by me. My brother asked me if I did it. I said I believed I did. My brother did not say he would not have come down if he had known, for I was worst. He did not say It is curious my mother left her husband, I have left my wife, and now you want to leave your husband it is a family ailment." I did get a glace silk and other things the day I left to the amount ol above lOl. Re-examined My husband was suffering from drink, not from me. I knew him two years before fn-iarried him. If ever I scratched him it was in self-defence, and when he called me a prostitute. The plaintiff was then called, and he confirmed the evi- dence, as also did another brother, who said the defendant was jealous, drank heavy," and treated his wife cruellv. For the defence, Mr. Dolby, a gardener, working for the defendant, and living in the house, was called. He said Mrs. Hunt was a tiger she whipped up knives and forks, and anything that came handy, cups full and empty, and threw them at him. When he was drunk she struck him often, and he never touched her. He (the witness) had often told her to hold her noise, but she bit his arm, tore his hair, and flung the saltcellar at him. The defendant never did strike her, but she said she wanted him to do so, and then she could get law of him. Her brother came and wanted to know what all the bother was about. Mr. Hunt's "ace was completely scratched down, and he was not fit to go out. Her brother said if she had done that to him he would have kicked her. Smith said she was a real, awful temper, and added, It seems a curious thing my wife left me my mother left my father, and now she wants to leave her husbaiad it is a family complaint." On cross-examina- tion the witness said the defendant was both hot and cold- tempered. He had said "My love" to his wife, and"- her" frequently. He was often drunk. The keys were never taken from her. She was always out latterly. Fanny Mason never kept the keys, except the key of the beer barrel. She slept with young Mrs. Hunt. Fanny never came before Mrs. Hunt fetched her. Sometimes Mrs. Hunt would not sleep with Mr. Hunt when he hnd too much beer. In November she refused to take her breakfast with Mr. Hunt in the parlour he was half-seas over, and she said he was a drunken fool; possibly Mr. Hunt had been cursing her: he did it often. He never fell out of his gig. The evidence of this witness was given so quaintly as to cause great laughter in court, which culminated when he concluded thus :—" I do not know what relation I am to the defendant. I am half-brother to him and yet I do not know how that can be. His mother is not my mother, and his father is not my father." Mr. Hill, a farmer, said that the defendant was henpecked from the top of his bald head to his chin, and that Mr. Smith asked his sister if she did it, and she said she did, on which he replied "same as Mr. Dolby had said." Mr. Hunt sometimes swore at his wife when he was drunk, or betwixt and between, but they never were very rough in his presence. Mr. Snidal, another farmer, gave corroborative evidence, and said, on cross-examination, that the gravel rash," caused by falling out of gigs and carts, was a common com- plaint in Lincolnshire. The last witness called was Mr. Hunt himself, and he dis- tinctly negatived all the material allegations in his wife's evidence; but on cross-examination he admitted that he had << her and the like." When he was drunk he was hot-tempered, but he never laid his hand on his wife, or quarrelled with her. He denied the truth of almost all that the plaintiff's witnesses stated, as well as some of what his own had said. At the close of the defendant's case a suggestion was made by the learned judge which resulted in the with- drawal of a juror on terms agreed upon. His lordship said that no imputation rested on the character of Fanny Mason.
MORTALITY AMONGST MARRIED MEN AND BACHELORS. The Registrar-General of Births, Deaths, and Mar- riages in Scotland has just issued his tenth detailed annual report, and in it he considers at great length the proportionate mortality between married men and bachelors. Taking the mean of the years 1863 and 1864, it seems that at every quinquennial period of life from 20 years of age up to 25, married men died in Scotland at a much lower rate than the unmarried. Thus, from 20 to 25 years of age, in every thousand married men only 6 '26 die annually, but in every thousand unmar- ried men at the same ages 15'01 died. From 25 to 30 years of age, only 8 '23 died annually in every thousand married men, but 14'94 in every thousand unmarried. From 30 to 35 years of a.ge, only 8.65 died in every thousand married men, but 15 "94 in every thousand unmarried. From 45 to 50 years of age, in every thousand of each class, only 17'04 married, but 21'18 unmarried died annually. In every thousand of each class from 50 to 55 years of age, 19'54 married men died annually, but 26*34 unmarried. In every thousand of each class from 60 to 65 years of age, 35*63 married men died annually, but 44'54 unmarried men. In every thousand of each class from 70 to 75 years of age, 81 '56 married men died amraally, but 102*17 unmarried men. Even at the extreme age of 80 to 85 years, in every thousand of each class, there died annually only 173*88 married men, but 195'40 unmarried. In the report which was issued last year, it was ascertained that the mean age at death of the married men wasr59'7, whereas the mean age at death of the unmarried men above 20 years of age was only 40 years —giving a difference of 19^ years in favour of the married men. Calculating the mean age at death in the same manner for the year 1864, it appears that the mean age at death of the married men was 59'1 years, whereas that of the unmarried men who were above 20 years of age was 40'2 years—showing a difference of 19 years of life in favour of married men. The obvious lesson to be deduced from this is that, taking a very selfish view of it, matrimony is, on the score of health, preferable to celibacy. C2S':
THE SULTAN'S THOUGHTS. To him—acquainted as he is with the vast and rugged plains of Anadol and Syria, the Levant and the Dobrudscha-our whole soil must seem like the garden of a palace (remarks a London contemporary.) Ali! the West," he must sigh, thinking of those rich plains by Broussa, Nazareth, the banks of the old Meander, and Pactolus, where, if his pashas were honest, and the "rayahs" would but farm thus, corn and wine might be grown till Turkey should be the granary and the cellar of the world, and till the piastres should roll, like the Nile at flood, into the Ottoman exchequer. What will next strike him will be the wonderful appearance of prosperity on every side. Is it impossible for Abdul Aziz, fired with the example of all that free laws and purer morals have done for Europe, to go back to Stamboul and settle the "Eaetern question" with a vast social and political reformation, bolder than Mahomet's, sterner than Ali's, instant and imperious as Amurath's ? His are the millions upon millions of fat corn-grounds along those lovely valleys of Asia Minor—why should robbers graze their camels and horses there, where millet and cotton ought to be growing ? His are the ruined harbours of Tyre and Sidon—why should not the splendid commerce of Solomon come back to those ancient seaports ?
IMMORALITY IN SOUTH SCOTLAND.—A ciiriou discussion has been raised in Scotland about the im morality of the border towns. Hawick, Galashiels and Jedburgh are, according to the clergy of these places, more like cities of the plain than a Scotch Goshen. Yet, says the Scotsman, there is no lack of spiritual instruction. Jedburgh in this respect is blessed beyond almost any other place in the United Kingdom. Its 3,000 inhabitants have seven churches, seven ministers, besides a large staff of elders, deacons, schoolmasters, and pupil teachers. Moreover, says our contemporary, they seem to be full of faith and good works, but, alas, all in vain. It ventures humbly to suggest that a little less Judaism and more of the spirit of Christianity would do Jedburgh good. GETTING USED TO THEM Arkansas is a state without a fault," said a native. "Excepting mosquitoes," exclaimed one from another state. Wall stranger, except for them; for it ar' a fact they are e-normous, and do push themselves in rather trouble- some. But they never stick twice in the same place and give them a fair chance for a few months, and you will get as much above noticing them as an alligator. But mosquitoes is natur', and I never find fault with her. If they ar' large Arkansas is large, her varmints ar' large, her trees ar' large, her rivers ar' large and a small mosquito would be of no more use than preaching in a cane-brake.'5