ner upon a civilian, gave great satisfaction, not only to the friends of Oberkampf, but to the whole commerce of the country, which claimed its share on this occasion, and felicitations from every province were addressed to Oberkampf. The fourth Exposition of National Industry took place in the year 1806, and for the first time the manufactory of Jouy sent a brilliant collection of its products, and received the gold medal. The succeeding years were marked by two important inventions. The method of printing a solid green color in one application, and the heating of colors by steam. In the year 1810 the Emperor Napoleon invited Oberkampf, the "patriarch" or the "seigneur" of Jouy, as he familiarly called him, to visit him at the Palace of St. Cloud. Oberkampf was accompanied by Samuel Widmer, who wished to solicit a favor from the Emperor. Napoleon received them in his usual manner, addressing rapid, searching, almost offensive questions to Oberkampf and to Widmer. "They tell me you are wealthy, was not the first million the most difficult to gain? Have you children? Will your son continue your business, or will he, as is more usual, dissipate your fortune?" &c., &c. He discussed the tariff, and when Oberkampf remarked that the duty on cotton was excessive, “O," replied the Emperor, "I only take what the smugglers would get," and added, in an excited voice, "I will have all the English and Swiss cotton goods burned. I have given three millions to plant cotton in the plains of Rome. Is not that better than giving them a Pope?" In his memoirs, dictated by himself at St. Helena, speaking of the Continental system, he remarks, "I consulted Oberkampf." So indeed he did, but he did not listen to his advice. The interview was brought to a close by the usual question, "Have you anything to ask?” Oberkampf replied that his nephew, Widmer, was very desirous to visit the manufactories of Eng land. The Continental system was strictly applied at that moment, and no one could visit England without a passport signed by the Emperor's own hand. Napoleon replied with some impatience, "What can he see there? What can he learn? Well, well, I will send him a passport." A few days afterwards the desired document was received. In the midst of this honorable but laborious prosperity, Oberkampf did not escape the trials and afflictions of life. Illness and death had visited his family and his friends, taking from him his child in its early years and his devoted friends in their old age. In 1810 he lost Ludwig Rohrdorf, the last of his early associates around the printing-table of Jouy. He, like the rest, had shared in the prosperity of the factory, and left a fair property. Being unmarried, his heirs, who resided in Switzerland, proved their unlimited confidence in the probity of Oberkampf by requesting him to liquidate the succession without process at law. The sturdy Oberkampf himself did not appear to feel the fatigues of advancing age. He had long wished to free himself from dependence upon the manufactories of printing-cloths, and to convert the bale of raw cotton into pieces of printed calicoes within his own works. His son-in-law, Mr. Louis Feray, being fully competent to direct a mill, Oberkampf established one at Essonne, and another at Corbeil for his brother Fritz, both for the manufacture of printing-cloths. His brother preferred to retire from commerce; Oberkampf received back the mill, and maintained it in activity. The fall of Napoleon in 1814, and the invasion of the Allied armies, suspended work at Jouy. For the first time the manufactory was closed. A recommencement of activity was arrested by the return of Napoleon from Elba in 1815, when Jouy was once more occupied by foreign troops. Many farms with their buildings had been destroyed, and every one was anxious for the safety of the manufactory; for, although work had again ceased, yet the building had never before been so crowded with occupants. All the poor families of the outskirts, who had the most to fear, were permitted to bring their furniture and worldly goods to the manufactory, and there they found protection and support. The buildings escaped destruction, and, when peace returned, active operations were again commenced. But anxiety, distress, and severe labor could no longer be borne with impunity by Oberkampf at his advanced age. He became feeble, and his health began to fail, when a severe cold brought on a fever which proved fatal. He expired on the 4th of October, 1815, and ended an honorable and useful life of seventyseven years, surrounded by his family and by his numerous friends. A son and three daughters (all married) survived their parent. The manufactory was continued six years longer by the son, Emile Oberkampf, and by the nephew, S. Widmer. Upon the death of Widmer, Emile Oberkampf associated with him a new partner, to whom he was soon obliged by ill-health to cede the paternal establishment. The prosperity of the manufactory seemed, however, to be attached to the name and family of Oberkampf; for, when separated from them, it languished and declined. It was converted into a joint-stock company, but without success, and a few years afterward was discontinued, and the property sold. The principal building alone now remains. The decline of the manufactory at Jouy does not in any way indicate the decline of calico-printing in France, for the impulse given by Oberkampf has been fully sustained by the great progress continually made. One examines with surprise the wonderful printing of Mulhouse, upon the gossamer, airy tissue of muslin, which one would think incapable of bearing the rich colors and designs with which it is impregnated. The town of Mulhouse is now the seat of the perfection of calico-printing, but Rouen and many other towns can well boast of their productions. The family of Oberkampf did not desert the humble village of Jouy. They retained the dwelling-house, and constantly visited the village and the families of the old workmen, who long experienced their active and generous charity. The small building called the House by the Stone Bridge, in which Oberkampf printed the first piece of calico at Jouy, was offered for sale, and the daughters of Oberkampf hastened to purchase it. They enlarged and improved it, and converted it into an asylum for young children. All the children of the village were here collected for the day, and received the care and the instruction their age required. They were provided with meals, and even those living at a distance were brought to the asylum in an omnibus, and carried home at night. Assuredly this was a noble monument of gratitude and charity to the memory of their father. We need not add that his name will never be forgotten in the village of Jouy. The principal street bears the name of Oberkampf, and the patriarchs of the village recall with pride the splendors of the times of the great factory. MAYDEN VALLEY, SPINSTERLAND. ND what do you study in your school?" I asked the blue-eyed little stranger whom I had lifted into my lap as a defence against woman's claim to my seat in a street car. "A I a "Jography, 'rithmitic, readin', and spellin'." She could spell "rhinoceros," but not "hippopotamus," and could multiply twelve by three, but not by one with success. In "jography" my examination was more thorough. It commenced as we were crossing the Back Bay, in full view of the Mill-Dam, the Dome of the State-House, and Bunker Hill Monument. Yet Spinsterland comprises 62,116 square miles, and has a population of over three millions, of whom considerably less than half are males. It is bounded to the west by a river and lake; to the north and northeast by a forest still traversed by moose, Indians, trout-brooks, and lumbermen; and to the east and south by the ocean. Its principal products are rocks, ice, machinery, and the fabrics of machinery. The farmer can rarely extort a reward for his industry from an unwilling soil; but he raises all the vegetables and coarser cereals required for home consumption. Along the "Can you tell me where East Cam- coast reside a hardy race, who furnish bridge is ?" America with its Friday dinner and "We don't learn such things at our Spinsterland with its Sunday breakfast school." "How is Boston bounded?” "We don't study that kind," half contemptuously. "Where is the Atlantic Ocean?" "East of Asia; no, it's west of Africa." The little scholar had not been taught home geography, but she knew where the Red Sea was, knew there was no Blue Sea anywhere, and could tell more than it is worth while to know about the Cape of Good Hope. I expressed my surprise that a body only nine years old should be so wise, adding that I should like to go to her school. "Why don't you, then?" "Could I go into your class?" also. In ancient times, a considerable foreign commerce was carried on; but a city, once the centre of the India trade, now imports little but peanuts; another, which used to have direct steam communication with Europe, has lived to see its harbor filling up, and those of its wharves, which are not frequented by coasting-vessels, grassgrown. The mariners of a third, who during the Golden Age of Spinsterland supplied a large part of the world with oil, still bring from distant seas the flexible bones within which many of the inhabitants pass their days. The government of Spinsterland is in pretension and form republican, but in fact aristocratic, the majority of the "No, you would have to go into the adults being denied the right of suffrage. infant class." I was saved from further mortification by our arrival at the end of the route. As I made my bow to my learned friend, I fell to wondering how many children of a larger growth know where Spinsterland is, and how many of the travellers who pass through Maydenvalley in the course of the summer acquaint themselves with its name, its residents, or its magical properties. Members of the disfranchised class usually, however, spend at their pleasure the earnings of the minority, and often teach voters their duties. They might have the ballot, as many believe, if they should insist upon having it, but they seem to prefer the pleasure of power to its burdens and responsibilities. They may be distinguished from their self-styled lords and masters by superior tact, a more flowing costume, and a singular fashion of wearing other people's hair superimposed upon their own. Notwithstanding the marked disproportion between the sexes, polygamy is frowned upon by the laws and by public opinion. Years ago the ruler of one province proposed to export several thousand women to the distant land of Celibaton; but the suggestion was coolly received, and has not been acted upon, although all the world knows that the voyage would surely end in the harbor of Matrimony. It must not be inferred, however, that the people of Spinsterland are averse to marriage. Every proper inducement, on the contrary, is held out to young men; and woe be to him who, having plighted his troth, withdraws it! He is mulcted in heavy damages by an indignant jury, and would be stripped of his property if tried by twelve women. In the cities of Spinsterland, a sort of Vanity Fair is held on several evenings of each week during the winter, at which unmarried persons are exposed to public competition; the mother usually defraying the expenses of the day on which her daughter "comes out," as it is technically termed. Dancing, dress, music, flowers, champagne, splendor for the eyes, soft words for the ears, delight in the display of one's taste or in the exercise of one's faculty of pleasing, unite with love of excitement to attract young people to the gay booths of pleasure. But while some go to the Rialto, that they may see the pretty things exposed to view, or may chat with their friends, most mount the steps in order to cross the Grand Canal. Yet a growing disinclination to marriage has, of late, manifested itself among the young men of Spinsterland, which has never been satisfactorily explained, and which has thus far, except in isolated instances, resisted efforts to overcome it. Under these adverse circumstances, sensible women are abandoning an unequal contest with the decrees of fate and the whims of mankind, and are asking themselves whether a solitary life need be misera ble. They recall Queen Elizabeth, Rosa Bonheur, Florence Nightingale, Harriet Martineau, Frederika Bremer. They bethink them of nuns, vowed to the service of the Virgin Mary; of Sisters of Charity, going about to do good; of nurses in whom sick and wounded soldiers have found tender reminiscences of home; of teachers, who break the bread of a higher life; of the Cousin Grace of the family circle in which their childhood was passed; of the irreparably single-women, known to them in after life, the good souls who visit the poor and the sorrowing, into whose patient ear the lover whispers his story or the maiden her hopes, the favorite aunt, the skilful housekeeper, the 'sure to be present when wanted, and the sure to be absent when not wanted cultivated, but not learned; quiet, yet not unapt at conversation; and with a smile that transfigures features upon which Time has set his mark. They bethink them, too, of marriage as it is depicted by keen observers like Thackeray or Balzac, of the grief of dispelled illusions, of the misery of being obliged to live with a stranger, of the base deceptions necessary to keep up appearances, of shattered health and ruined fortune, of all the chances that a number in the great lottery will not draw a prize. The sight of a pretty child may, sometimes, cause a woman's longing; but they will close their hearts with the thought that the bliss of maternity is not always unalloyed. Aching for love as they may, they dread its counterfeits. and prefer the clear, steady light of friendship to the flicker of passion or the will-o'-the-wisp of a fancy. They will marry, if the true lover comes: but they will await his coming in the seclusion of maidenly reserve; not spending their days in looking even privily from the window for him, but seeking in single life such opportunities for happiness and for usefulness as a cheerful and active nature can find there. In the winter such women go into society perhaps, and dance and talk, and use their weapons of defence and offence; but they rarely find a man In worthy of their steel, and they welcome the summer as a release from the fret and burden of fashionable life. June they prepare for a long estivation, and on the first warm day take the wings of a railroad, and fly to the sea or the mountains. The traveller in July will find bevies of them in the most lovely spots he visits. He will see them coming into the morning out of farm-houses or rural hotels, with roses in their cheeks and smiles interpreting their words. He will meet them in the afternoon, two by two, in country wagons, or by twenties loading down a vehicle drawn by four horses. Should he climb up to Princeville, he may trace upon the village green below the meeting-house the lines of ten or twelve games of croquet, in which every player is a spinster save one, whose black coat spots the picture, as a bare twig juts from a cloud of apple-blossoms. And if a happy chance leads him within the gates of Maydenvalley, and gives him the eyes to see what is there, he will enjoy a spectacle such as can be found nowhere outside of Spinsterland. "I have been to all the places most praised by travellers," said one whose manners at thirty-three-shall I guess? - proved more in favor of single-blessedness than St. Paul's logic; "but I find only two whose charms can never fly, as George Herbert has it, Rome and Maydenvalley. At Rome I had to drink of the fountain of Trevi to insure my return; but one full draught of the air of this valley is an amulet against the temptation to spend my summers elsewhere." The visitor in Maydenvalley may complain of his small chamber, of sour bread, stringy meat, inefficient service, a thousand and one discomforts known to boarders with people who live, like the mosquitoes of their groves, upon visitors; but these petty annoyances are forgotten as he watches the shadows chasing each other over Beam Mountain, the rosy cloud that lingers upon Mount Ironington, the curves of the river Proway, or the elms grouped in the intervale through which it flows. He will never tire of wandering in that intervale; for every moment will show him a new picture, and every cloud will change the aspect of familiar objects, a little earth and water are susceptible of so many combinations. Rising, for the first time in his life, perhaps, with the sun, he will catch Nature coming from the embrace of Night more fresh and rosy than ever; or, rambling in the pine woods, five hours later, he may surprise her asleep under a tree, and dreaming that the sun has pushed aside the branches to get near her. Days of soft rain will hide the mountains, but their drop-curtain has a peculiar beauty, and its folds are caught, as it gradually lifts, upon crag and peak, until, at length, the tops of Beam and Ironington show him clear sunshine above the fog clinging to their sides. Then will come days during which his petty I goes from him "like an ache," and he becomes a part of the mountain wind in his hair; and other days, when the eastern breeze is as salt as if the sea had come sixty miles to look upon a lovelier valley than northern tides can enter. Maydenvalley is walled from the world by mountains rising from one to six thousand feet above the level of the sea, and is some six miles long, and at no point more than three miles in width. The northern half alone is inhabited, the southern half being covered with forests, except in the riverbottoms, where a few farmers live in neat white houses that look down on broad acres of grass and corn. These are all situated upon the western side of the Proway, and have little communication with the eastern side, — there being no bridge across the river. About three miles from the northern extremity of the valley stands the first and one of the pleasantest of the spinster homes, where the wit and beauty of Maydenvalley once focalized. For here lived the most brilliant woman whom young Spinsterland remembers, she whose sayings are still repeated, though her voice has for years been |