education offered at a very moderate rate, but there are also special classes for instruction in various arts; and among these one, at five shillings a quarter, a class for dress-making. Now, any one who has kept servants can hardly have failed to remark, how important an influence the being able to make a dress for herself, has upon the female domestic-how much neater an appearance she can maintain-how much better able she is to restrict her expenditure to something less than her earnings-and how, besides, as an interesting occupation for her leisure hours, it tends to prevent their being wasted, as is too often the case, on a debasing literature, if it be lawful to give it the name. And the visitor of the poor sees, still more strikingly, the vast difference this knowledge makes in a poor man's home, when his wife is handy at her needle,' and out of one old gown can make two new frocks. As another educational effort pointed out by social science, one mill-proprietor mentioned, that as soon as the buildings for the purpose were completed, he intended to open a school for teaching cookery to girls. This, it is true, has been done in London; but the idea was not born there, for local history informs us, that as long ago as 1720, 'in order to perfect young ladies in what was then thought a necessary part of their education, a pastry-school was set up in Manchester, which was frequented not only by the daughters of the towns-people, but those of the neighbouring gentlemen.' It were well that young ladies in the present century should not deem it a vulgarity to learn to make a digestible pie-crust; but the principle which makes the economical preparation of food a part of a factory-girl's education, is even more important. And considering the fact, that towards the recently completed chapel in connection with these intended schools, the 'hands' of this one factory, in number about 1000, contributed no less a sum than L.300, it need hardly be feared that they will not appreciate any educational advantages. But social science applies itself not merely to the claims of poverty, it is her part also to see that those who have money to spend shall have their penny's worth for their penny. The Manchester omnibus may be instanced, which provides for its general threepenny fare a lofty, well-ventilated vehicle, with fair room for the lower extremities of all. : It has been admitted that the city's appearance is not very prepossessing; and if this be the case by day, it certainly gains little by night. But all honour to this nocturnal dimness, for it is due to the early closing and so well is this movement carried out, that a great number of the shops are shut as early as seven; and very few are open after eight. When to this daily margin, reclaimed from the labour-tide, the Saturday half-holiday, now so general here, is added, we may conceive how vast a stock of leisure is gained for all classes, to afford room for social improvement and social happiness. But it may not be amiss to advert to some of the more latent causes that have led to the advancement of this interesting city. M'Culloch, speaking of England at large, says, that 'to excel in machine-making is to excel in what is certainly the most important branch of manufacturing industry. Superiority in any single branch, except this, may exist simultaneously with great inferiority in others; but eminence in the manufacture of machinery is almost sure to lead to eminence in every other department.' We may suppose, then, that the amount of intellect required for the perfecting of the processes here carried on, cannot all be expended on this primary object; and thus a surplus is left to be devoted to other kinds of improvement. In regard to the handiwork itself, Mr Stevenson, in the article on English Statistics,' in the Edinburgh Encyclopadia, lays much stress on the practice, almost universal in factories, of piece-work payment, as giving the workmen an interest in industry, and an inducement to execute the greatest amount of work in the least space of time; such an influence even reacting upon day-labourers by rousing their emulation, and inducing them, in order to avoid invidious comparisons, to make exertions unknown in other countries. Dr Ure, again, in his Philosophy of Manufactures, thus comments on the kind of employment here chiefly followed: Occupations which are assisted by steam-engines, require for the most part a higher, or at least a steadier species of labour, than those which are not; the exercise of the mind being then partially substituted for that of the muscles constituting skilled labour;' and this, as he adds, is always paid more highly than unskilled. He also observes, that of all the common prejudices with regard to factory-labour, there is none more unfounded than that which ascribes to it excessive tedium and irksomeness above other occupations, owing to its being carried on in conjunction with the unceasing motion of the steam-engine. In an establishment for spinning or weaving cotton, all the hard work is performed by the steam-engine, which leaves for the attendants no hard labour at all, and literally nothing to do in general, but at intervals to perform some delicate operation, such as joining the threads, &c.' His remarks apply especially to the children, of whom three-fourths of the number employed are engaged in piecing; at which he computes that a child working even twelve hours a day, and attending two mules, would yet have six hours of inaction, occurring at periods of three-quarters of a minute or more at a time, and mentions that spinners sometimes dedicate these intervals to the perusal of books.' This, one would suppose, can scarcely be generally or easily done, but at least such snatches of leisure occurring so largely and regularly, must afford favourable opportunities for cultivating the reflective faculties; and that they are thus made use of, seems to be proved by the general intelligence which prevails. While, then, this wondrous city, this giant of the English north, is thus advancing with seven-leagued strides in the path of progress, let no mere adventitious circumstances cause it to be viewed unfavourably; let no unworthy jealousy prevent the full recognition of that foremost position it is pressing forward to. That it is a powerful rival in the race, even compared with the proud metropolis, must be admitted when we consider all it has done and is doing for social amelioration and national prosperity; its devotion at once to commerce and industry, to science and art; its fostering of kindly feeling and cultivation of intellect; its attention to the requirements of those who can afford to purchase comfort, and the wants of those who have nothing to pay; its provision for every bodily demand, and every mental and moral need. Herein, indeed, in this universality of genius which cares for everything, and overlooks or neglects nothing, lies the great secret of its success. One of the most eminent inhabitants of the city, accompanying a party in the inspection of one of its great establishments, introduced them to the steam-engine which keeps in motion all the machinery on the premises, with the exclamation: Here is the real Manchester Man!' It may at least symbolise him. Making its energy felt throughout every part, its influence as active in the remotest corner as in its immediate neighbourhood; not putting forth its efforts in one mode of operation only, but doing whatever is to be done, lifting or pressing in one place, rolling or stamping in another, taking in here, sending out there, just as need may require; and with no capricious intermittent exertion, but in steady, unwearied diligence moving all, regulating all, the tiniest pin not eluding its grasp, the hugest wheel not beyond its capacity; this mighty worker is indeed no inapt image of those who evoke its powers, and who, not only by using its services, but by imitating its action, have obtained the present high place, and the prospect of a yet loftier future, for the City of Men. OÇE OLA: A ROMANCE. CHAPTER LV.-THE VOLUNTEERS. My sister kept her word. I saw no more of her for that day, nor until noon of the next. Then she came forth from her chamber in full riding costume, ordered White Fox to be saddled, and, mounting, rode off alone. I felt that I had no power over this capricious spirit. It was idle to attempt controlling it. She was beyond the dictation of fraternal authority-her own mistress-and evidently determined upon having her will and her way. After the conversation of yesterday, I felt no inclination to interfere again. She was acquainted with my secret; and knowing this, any counsel from me would come with an ill grace, and be as ill received. I resolved, therefore, to withhold it, till some crisis should arrive that would render it more impressive. For several days this coolness continued between us-at which my mother often wondered, but of which she received no explanation. Indeed, I fancied that even her affection towards me was not so tender as it used to be. Perhaps I was wronging her. She was a little angry with me about the duel with Ringgold, the first intelligence of which had gravely affected her. On my return I had received her reproaches, for it was believed that I alone was to blame in bringing the affair about. 'Why had I acted so rudely towards Arens Ringgold? And all about nothing? A trumpery Indian belle? What mattered it to me what may have been said about the girl? Likely what was said was nothing more than the truth. I should have behaved with more prudence.' I perceived that my mother had been informed upon most of the material points connected with the affair. Of one, however, she was ignorant: she knew not who the 'trumpery Indian belle' was-she had not heard the name of Maumee. Knowing her to be ignorant of this, I listened with more calmness to the aspersive remarks. For all that, I was somewhat excited by her reproaches, and several times upon the point of declaring to her the true cause why I had called Ringgold to an account. For certain reasons I forbore. My mother would not have believed me. As for Ringgold himself, I ascertained that a great change in his fortunes had lately taken place. His father was dead-had died in a fit of passion, whilst in the act of chastising one of his slaves. A blood vessel had burst, and he had fallen, as if by a judgment of God. Arens, the only son, was now master of his vast, ill-gotten wealth-a plantation with some three hundred slaves upon it; and it was said that this had only made him more avaricious than ever. visitor at the house; and the world still believed him the accepted suitor of Virginia. Moreover, since his late accession to wealth and power, he had grown more than ever a favourite with my ambitious mother. I learned all this with regret. The old home appeared to have undergone a change. There was not the same warmth of affection as of yore. I missed my kind, noble father. My mother at times appeared cold and distant, as if she believed me undutiful. My uncle was her brother, and like her in everything; even my fond sister seemed for the moment estranged. I began to feel as a stranger in my own house, and, feeling so, stayed but little at home. Most of the day was I abroad, with Gallagher as my companion. Of course, my friend remained our guest during our stay on the Suwanee. Our time was occupied, partly with the duties upon which we had been commanded, and partly in following the amusement of the chase. Of deer-hunting and fox-running we had an abundance; but I did not enjoy it as formerly; neither did my companionardent sportsman though he was-seem to take the delight in it which he had anticipated. Our military duties were by no means of an arduous nature, and were usually over before noon. Our orders had been, not so much to recruit volunteers as to superintend the organisation of those already raised; and 'muster them into service.' A corps had already advanced some length towards formation, having elected its own officers, and enrolled most of its rank and file. Our part was to inspect, instruct, and govern them. The little church, near the centre of the settlement, was the head-quarters of the corps; and there the drill was daily carried on. The men were mostly of the poorer class of white settlers-small renting planters-and squatters who dwelt along the swamp-edges, and who managed to eke out a precarious subsistence partly by the use of their axes, and partly from the product of their rifles. The old hunter Hickman was among the number; and what did not much surprise me, I found the worthies Spence and Williams enrolled in the corps. Upon these scamps I was determined to keep a watchful eye, and hold them at a wary distance. Many of the privates were men of a higher class-for the common danger had called all kinds into the field. The officers were usually planters of wealth and influence; though there were some who, from the democratic influence of elections, were but ill qualified to wear epaulettes. Many of these gentlemen bore far higher official titles than either Gallagher or myself. Colonels and majors appeared to be almost as numerous as privates. But for all this, they did not demur to our exercising authority over them. In actual war-time, it is not uncommon for a lieutenant of the 'line,' or the lowest subaltern of the regular army, to be placed in command of a full colonel of militia or volunteers! Here and there was an odd character, who perhaps, in earlier life, had 'broken down' at West Point, or had gone through a month of campaigning service in the Creek wars under 'Old Hickory.' These, fancying themselves au fait in the military art, were not so His aim was-as it had been that of the older Ringgold-to become owner of everybody and every-pleasant to deal with; and at times it required all thing around him-a grand money-despot. The son was a fit successor to the father. He had played the invalid for a while-carrying his arm in a sling-and, as people said, not a little vain of having been engaged in a duel. Those who understood how that affair had terminated, thought he had little reason to be proud of it. It seemed the hostility between him and myself had brought about no change in his relations with our family. I learned that he had been a constant Gallagher's determined firmness to convince them that he was commander-in-chief upon the Suwanee. My friend's reputation as a 'fire-eater' which had preceded him, had as much weight in confirming his authority as the commission which he brought with him from 'head-quarters.' Upon the whole, we got along smoothly enough with these gentlemen-most of whom seemed desirous of learning their duty, and submitted to our instructions with cheerfulness. CHAMBERS'S JOURNAL. There was no lack of champagne, brandy, and cigars. The neighbouring planters were hospitable; and had my friend or myself been inclined towards dissipation, we could not have been established in better quarters for indulging the propensity. To this, however, neither of us gave way; and our moderation no doubt caused us to be held in higher esteem, even among the hard drinkers by whom we were surrounded. Our new life was by no means disagreeable; and but for the unpleasantness that had arisen at home, I could have felt for the time contented and happy. At home at home-there was the canker: it appeared no longer a home. CHAPTER LVI. MYSTERIOUS CHANGES. Not many days had elapsed before I observed a sudden change in the conduct of Gallagher; not towards myself, or my mother, but in his manner towards Virginia. It was the day after I had held the conversation with her, that I first noticed this. I noticed at the same time that her manner towards him was equally altered. The somewhat frosty politeness that had hitherto been observed between them, appeared to have suddenly thawed, and their old genial friendship to become re-established on its former footing. They now played, and sang, and laughed together, and read, and chattered nonsense, as they had been used to do in times past. 'Ah!' thought I, it is easy for him to forget; he is but a friend, and, of course, cannot have the feelLittle matters it to him what ings of a brother. may be her secret relations, or with whom. What need he care about her improprieties? She is good company, and her winning way has beguiled him from dwelling upon that suspicion, which he must have entertained as well as myself. He has either forgotten, forgiven, or else found some explanation At all of her conduct that seems to satisfy him. events, I appear to have lost his sympathy, while she has regained his confidence and friendship.' I was at first astonished at this new phase in the relations of our family circle-afterwards puzzled by it. I was too proud and piqued to ask Gallagher for an explanation; and, as he did not volunteer to give one, I was compelled to abide in ignorance. I perceived that my mother also regarded this altered behaviour with surprise, and also with a feeling of a somewhat different kind-suspicion. I could guess the reason of this. She fancied that they were growing too fond of each other-that, notwithstanding he had no fortune but his pay-roll, Virginia might fancy the dashing soldier for a husband. Of course my mother, having already formed designs as to the disposal of her daughter, could not calmly contemplate such a destiny as this. It was natural enough, then, she should look with a jealous eye upon the gay confidence that had been established between them. I should have been glad if I could have shared my mother's suspicions; happy if my sister had but My friend would have fixed her affections there. been welcome to call me brother. Fortuneless though he might be, I should have made no opposition to that alliance. But it never entered my thoughts that there was aught between the two but the old rollicking friendSo far as ship; and love acts not in that style. Captain Gallagher was concerned, I could have given my mother assurance that would have quieted her fears. And yet to a stranger they might have appeared as lovers-almost to any one except myself. They were together half the day and half the night: they I perceived that my rode together into the woods, and were sometimes absent for hours at a time. comrade began to care little for my company, and Stranger still, the chase no longer daily less. As for duty, this he sadly neglected, delighted him! and had not the 'lieutenant' been on the ground, I fear the 'corps' would have stood little chance of instruction. As days passed on, I fancied that Gallagher began to relapse into a more sober method. He certainly seemed more thoughtful. This was when my sister was out of sight. It was not the air he had worn after our arrival-but very different. It certainly resembled the bearing of a man in love. He would start on hearing my sister's voice from without his ear was quick to catch every word from into the room. Once or twice, I saw him gazing at her, and his eyes expressed delight whenever she came her with an expression upon his countenance that After betokened more than friendship. My old suspicions began to return to me. all, he might be in love with Virginia? Certainly, she was fair enough to impress the heart even of this adamantine soldier. Gallagher was no lady's man-had never been known to seek conquests over the sex-in fact, felt some awkwardness in their company. My sister seemed the only one before whom he could converse with fluency or freedom. Notwithstanding, and after all, he might be in love? I should have been pleased to know it, could I only have insured him a reciprocity of his passion; but alas! that was not in my power. I wondered whether she ever thought of him as a lover; but no-she could not-not if she was thinking of And yet her behaviour towards him was at times of such a character, that a stranger to her eccentricities would have fancied she loved him. Even I was mystified by her actions. She either had some feeling for him, beyond that of mere friendship, or made her conduct was cruel in the extreme. show of it. If he loved her, and she knew it, then I indulged in such speculations, though only when I could not restrain myself from dwelling upon them. They were unpleasant; at times even painful. I lived in a maze of doubt, puzzled and perplexed at what was passing around me; but at this time there turned up a new chapter in our family history, that, in point of mystery, eclipsed all the others. A piece of information reached me, that, if true, must sweep all these new-sprung theories out of my mind. I learned that my sister was in love with Arens Ringgold-in other words, that she was listening to his addresses!' CHAPTER LVII. MY INFORMANT. This I had upon the authority of my faithful servant, Black Jake. Upon almost any other testimony, I should have been incredulous; but his was unimpeachable. Negro as he was, his perceptions were keen enough; while his earnestness proved that he believed what he said. He had reasons, and gave them. I received the strange intelligence in this wise: I was seated by the bathing-pond, alone, busied with a book, when I heard Jake's familiar voice pronouncing my name: 'Massr George.' 'Well, Jake?' I responded, without withdrawing my eyes from the page. Ise wanted all da mornin' to git you 'lone by yarself; Ise want to hab a leetle bit ob a convasayshun, Massr George.' The solemn tone, so unusual in the voice of Jake, awoke my attention. Mechanically closing the book, 'Ye, massr-dat am if you isn't ingage?' 'Oh, by no means, Jake. Go on: let me hear what you have to say.' 'Poor fellow!' thought I-'he has his sorrows too. Some complaint about Viola. The wicked coquette is torturing him with jealousy; but what can I do? I cannot make her love him-no. "One man may lead a horse to the water, but forty can't make him drink." No; the little jade will act as she pleases, in spite of any remonstrance on my part. Well, Jake?' 'Wa, Massr George, I doant meself like to intafere in tha 'fairs ob da family-daat I doant; but ye see, massr, things am a gwine all wrong-all wrong, by Golly!' In what respect?' 'Ah, massr, dat young lady-data young lady.' 'More dan me, Massr George-more dan me.' 'Yes, massr; berry partickler-nebber so partickler before--nebber.' 'A white man?' "Scoose me, Massr George, 'scoose me 'gain-I tell you, massr, you make mistake: she a'most consent now.' 'Why, what has put this notion into your head, my good fellow?' 'Viola, massr. Dat ere quadroon tell me all.' So, you are friends with Viola again?' 'Ye, Massr George, we good friend as ebber. Twar only my s'picion-I war wrong. She good gal-she true as de rifle. No more s'picion o' her, on de part ob Jake-no.' 'I am glad of that. But pray, what has she told you about Arens Ringgold and my sister?' 'She tell me all: she see somethin' ebbery day.' 'Every day! Why, it is many days since Arens Ringgold has visited here?' 'No, massr; dar you am mistake 'gain: Mass Arums he come to da house ebbery day-a'most ebbery day.' 'Nonsense; I never saw him here. I never heard of his having been, since my return from the fort.' 'But him hab been, for all dat, massr; I see 'im meseff. He come when you gone out. He be here when we goes a huntin'. I see um come yest'day, when you an' Mass Garger war away to tha bolunteers dat he war sat'n.' 'You astonish me.' 'Dat's not all, massr. Viola she say dat Missa Vaginny she 'have diffrent from what she used to: he talk love; she not angry no more; she listen to him talk. Oh, Massr George, Viola think she give her consent t'marry him: dat would be dreadful thing 'Gorramighty, Massr George!' exclaimed Jake, in a tone of surprise; you do talk kewrious: ob coorse it am a white man. No odder dan a white man dar-berry, berry dreadful.' shew 'tention to tha young lady.' I could not help smiling. Considering Jake's own complexion, he appeared to hold very exalted views of the unapproachableness of his charmer by those of her own race. I had once heard him boast that he was the only man ob colour dat could shine thar.' It was a white man, then, who was making his misery. 'Who is hie, Jake?' I inquired. 'Ah, massr, he am dat ar villain debbil, Arums Ringgol'!' What! Arens Ringgold?-he making love to Viola?' "Viola! Gorramighty, Massr George!' exclaimed the black, staring till his eyes shewed only the whites-Viola! Gorramighty, I nebber say Viola! -nebber!' Of whom, then, are you speaking?' 'O massr, did I not say da young lady? dat am tha young missa-Missa Vaginny.' 'Oh! my sister you mean. Poh, poh! Jake. That is an old story. Arens Ringgold has been paying his addresses to my sister for many years; but with no chance of success. You needn't trouble yourself about that, my faithful friend; there is no danger of their getting married. She doesn't like him, Jake-I wonder who does or could--and even if she did, I would not permit it. But there's no fear, so you may make your mind easy on that score.' My harangue seemed not to satisfy the black. He stood scratching his head, as if he had something more to communicate. I waited for him to speak. "Scoose me, Massr George, for da freedom, but dar you make mighty big mistake. It am true dar war a time when Missa Vaginny she no care for dat ar snake in da grass. But de times am change: him father-da ole thief-he am gone to tha udda world; tha young un he now rich-he big planter-tha biggest on da ribber: ole missa she 'courage him come see Missa Vaginny-'cause he rich, he good spec.' 'I know all that, Jake: my mother always wished it; but that signifies nothing-my sister is a little self-willed, and will be certain to have her own way. There is no fear of her giving her consent to marry Arens Ringgold.' 'Jake,' said I, 'listen to me. You will stay by the house when I am absent. You will take note of every one who comes and goes; and whenever Arens Ringgold makes his appearance on a visit to the family, you will come for me as fast as horse can carry you.' 'Gollys! dat I will, Massr George: you nebber fear, I come fass enuff-like a streak ob de greased lightnin'.' And with this promise, the black left me. * * With all my disposition to be incredulous, I could not disregard the information thus imparted to me. Beyond doubt, there was truth in it. The black was too faithful to think of deceiving me, and too astute to be himself deceived. Viola had rare opportunities for observing all that passed within our family circle; and what motive could she have for inventing a tale like this? Besides Jake had himself seen Ringgold on visitsof which I had never been informed. This confirmed the other-confirmed all. What was I to make of it? Three who appear as lovers-the chief, Gallagher, Arens Ringgold! Has she grown wicked, abandoned, and is coquetting with all the world? Can she have a thought of Ringgold? No-it is not possible. I could understand her having an affection for the soldier-a romantic passion for the brave and certainly handsome chief; but for Arens Ringgold-a squeaking, conceited snob, with nought but riches to recommend him—this appeared utterly improbable. Of course, the influence was my mother's; but never before had I entertained a thought that Virginia would yield. If Viola spoke the truth, she had yielded, or was yielding. Ah, mother, mother! little knowest thou the fiend you would introduce to your home, and cherish as your child.' Printed and Published by W. & R. CHAMBERS, 47 Paternoster POPULAR LITERATURE Science and Arts. CONDUCTED BY WILLIAM AND ROBERT CHAMBERS. No. 225. SIR. which has been afforded to him by the publication of his article; and the once esteemed contributor has Ir is doubtful whether there be another monosyllable made previous use of it, apologetically, in demanding in the language which admits of such delicate distinc-modestly to know whether the Lever was accustomed tions as that most common one which heads this paper to balance its accounts at the end of every six months -Sir. Not the trembling 'No' of the bashful maiden, or of a year. whose command of verbal inflection is so perfect that she makes it to fill the place of 'Yes,' could be more significant: not the emphatic There' of the dined alderman, who pushes his last plate an inch or two from his encroaching stomach with a satisfied sigh, and a comfortable and firm belief in his own mind that he has, in the highest and noblest sense, said Grace: not the 'Well?' of the rival conversationalist, interrogatively fitted in at the conclusion of your very best narration, as though the point were yet to come: not the facile Ah!' of the debt-hardened borrower, when he is reminded of the little account which, with the utmost delicacy, you have forborne to speak of until it has almost run clean out of sight for ever underneath the statute of limitations: not the 'Bah!' of the attorney, so different from the same expression in the mouth of the innocent wearers of his sheepskins, when you inadvertently let fall some moral axiom or some tender sentiment, forgetting in whose presence you stand: not even the Chur-r-r-ch, Chur-r-r-ch' of the Hyde Park democracy, when they flung, some months ago, that elongated monosyllable, with so great distinctness of meaning, at the titled Sabbath-breakers and miserable sinners of 'carriage-people' in the Ring; nothing equally brief had ever such variety of meaning as this 'Sir.' Even in writing, and when it stands apart and unrelieved by My dear,' or 'Dear,' it has a certain unpleasant significance. It shews that the writer has no acquaintance, and far less friendship with the person he addresses; that, for certain, he does not know anything about him, and that, in all probability, he does not care. There is not only a stiffness and reserve, but an absolute antagonism in a 'Sir' of this sort. It is more than possible that it may be followed by, 'As the legal advisers of Messrs Harpy,' &c., and that the whole may be concluded-like an unprepossessing scorpion, whose worst has yet to come in the tail of it by the signature of a legal firm. One has, in this case, to write back 'Gentlemen,' too, in return for it, which, it may be, is as tremendous a sacrifice of truth as of inclination. The editor of the Moral Lever-by no means the talented Irish novelist of that name begins with the 'Sir' indignant, when he writes that he is in truth astonished at his once esteemed contributor requiring compensation in dross for that blessed privilege of elevating the masses This 'Sir' epistolary may be the herald of a compulsory marriage (when it emanates, for instance, from one of the big brothers of the three Miss Malonies, denominated, for certain reasons, ‘Plague, Pestilence, and Famine'); of unexpected offspring of a doubtful paternity; of death, itself, even-provided, at least, that there is no property bequeathed to us, in which case we may be sure it would become 'My dear Sir,' or 'My very dear Sir,' in proportion to the sum; but it is never by any chance the harbinger of anything satisfactory, except perhaps in the extremely mitigated form of a receipt for the second payment of a disputed bill. 'Sir' never asks you to dinner, nor even pays you a compliment, except of the most artificial character, such as that of representing somebody as your most obedient and humble servant, who, if not an utter stranger, is a foe determined upon your ruin. 'Sir' is the dogged submission which the most savage hand is compelled to pay to the laws of civilisation, the transparent veil through which it strikes with undiminished power. The only social invitation which it ever heralds is that which belongs to the duello, the pressing summons to 'pistols for two in the sawpit,' or other unfrequented meeting-place; nor has it anything to do with love, except at the extreme fag-end of it, when it sometimes announces Cupid's death and the birth of mammon coincidently, in the notice of action for breach of promise of marriage. It is the sign that the chain of friendship is broken, and that the remaining life-links which connect us and the writer must needs be formed of a far baser metal. Indeed, the only sort of excellence which the 'Sir' epistolary possesses, is of a decidedly negative character; it does not, as far as we are aware, form part of the formula of a writ. · The Sir' colloquial, on the other hand, may be urbane and graceful enough; the tongue can express by inflection what it is not in the power of the pen through the same term to convey. A trivial and common-place remark of ours-for we do make such things on rare occasions, and at very long intervals— to a fellow-traveller in a railway-carriage, has been sometimes replied to by this little word, in a manner (before our marriage, that is) which has set our heart beating, and our cheeks aflame; our youth and beauty were remarkable at one period, and we have |