top of Milan Cathedral; the highest landing-place is dingy with signatures, the statues even being covered with a coat of black-lead. I noticed this to our attendant, and he said it was no use washing them, they were defaced again at once. Let us be fair; give our neighbours their due; and let our own good taste and feeling express themselves in corresponding manners; but do not let us cry down the defects in English courtesy which we notice at once, because our ignorance of the language, or want of presence of mind, prevents our observing the drawbacks to foreign politeness. A word as to foreign food. I was struck with its monotonous variety. There is always an embarrassing amount of dishes with a want of hearty material. The dinner at the table-d'hôte impresses the simple tourist at first, but in time it loses its effect. For genuine soups and solids, commend me to an English cook; but I grant you that the intermediate class of dishes, neither liquid nor substantial, are to be found in their unsatisfactory abundance far more plentifully in the produce of a foreign kitchen. variety? No doubt, in some hot summers, the Thames has produced a steady mass of odour; but as a rule, the streets are scentless. As to the Slums, as they are called, I visit them every day, but I never come across anything so keen and nasty as I do even in renovated Paris. As for Rome, pheugh! ramble about a ruin, but hold your nose. As for Naples, is not the deep blue of the Mediterranean tinged-no, not tinged, but grossly dyed with sewerage in face of the town? Walk along the beach of that tideless sea, but do not attempt to sit down on it. There is no smoke without fire, so the dirt of continental towns can be detected by as unmistakable a symptom. Mischievous dirt betrays itself. Nature did not give us noses merely to blow, or adorn a profile; they tell us what is bad to breathe and see; but in London they seldom convey a warning of the presence of dirt, because there is none. Simple mud is harmless enough; it is a witness of clouds and water-carts; but it is clean: we don't shudder when it sticks to us. It is notorious, however, that we claim excellence Another continental fallacy is touching the polite- in comfort. After all, says the traveller, give me ness of foreigners. Tompkins converses after a English comfort. Paterfamilias, fresh from the fashion with the conductor of a diligence or the boat- continent, embraces his bed, and smiles upon his men on a lake. He is struck with the native ease soap-dish with genuine affection. But we must not and pleasantry of their manner; he compares them to be too sharp about this notion of comfort. In many those of cabby or the steersman of a penny-boat, and respects, the comfort of English travellers is studied more abroad than at home. Compare the scalding remarks to Mrs Simpkins that the lower orders gulp at our railway refreshment-room with the wellabroad are infinitely more courteous and conversable proportioned meal provided on your journey in France. than those at home. Well, I suppose you are a judge Compare their carriages with some of ours, andof good-manners, Mr Tompkins, and I hope you among many minor luxuries-the facilities for smoking. always speak civilly to your 'inferiors,' when not Moreover, do you not travel with less anxiety about checked by an imperfect acquaintance with the lan-luggage abroad? Does not it add to your comfort to guage you employ; but I suspect that half your impressions are influenced by your very partial knowledge of French or German. You don't know how to be coarse and arbitrary in these tongues yourself; and much of what you take for natural ease in the conducteur, would be vulgar familiarity if you only understood what he said. Translate the gallant speeches of the cicerone to signora into flippant cockney, and you would call him an impertinent rascal to speak so to your wife. As to the good-manners of the middle classes, we cannot call them conspicuous at meals. There is an apparent wantonness of indelicacy in some which no custom can excuse-a greedy, noisy process of eating, which could hardly be found in their grade in England. See how Monsieur will gnaw the bones of a fowl -and he always has some to exhibit on-or watch him cut up his portion into swallowable pieces, preparatory to an uninterrupted disposal of it, and then reconsider your sentence about his politeness. He wins the character mainly by bowing; there he excels us; a pot-boy takes off his hat to another pot-boy. We associate the gesture with ceremonious courtesy; practice makes him perfect in the obeisance; and we compare his salutation with the gruff greeting or inelegant nod of the corresponding Briton. You may see a Frenchman uncover his head when he goes into a neighbour's shop, but you don't see an Englishman spit on the floor when he makes a morning call. There that will do; let us turn to a different test of good taste. Somewhere or another, I read some strictures on the vulgarity which distinguishes our countrymen in writing their names on monuments and walls. But here he is utterly distanced by Monsieur. Every available inch about continental sights is scribbled over with foreign names. The other day I was on the know that you are not responsible for anything when once you have that limp, gritty, little record in your purse of the weight, number, and fare of your articles of luggage? Is not the arrival at an inn on the continent more comfortable than in England? Are not the beds-yes, I say it, however devoted Paterfamilias may be to his four-poster-are not the beds generally delicious? comforts with those of our own house. I believe the The fallacy lies in this-we compare foreign hotel contrast would be greater if we had to pay the bills and submit to the vexations of English inns. But But leaving this question of comforts, what other contrasts have left their impressions still fresh upon the mind? I was struck in entering London with the sodden, wretched look of one particular class amongst the poor. I came in by gas-light, and saw them about the public-houses. There was a staleness of face, and air of soiled limp finery about them, which I did not see abroad. No doubt, the beggars of the continent are often disgusting; but they chatter and squabble with a vivacity which saves them from despair. these poor English people I mean are not beggars; they slip and slouch about in silent, dogged wretchedness, their force of temper coming occasionally to a head in a sudden exchange of loud-shrieked abuse and a duet of curses. I confess this saddened me. We must be content with our privilege and characterMerry England! No; that is not the adjective. istic of grumbling. An Englishman is never happy without a grievance. He affects to rejoice in being free, and secretly wonders that a tattered Mossoo of the third estate, with his accumulation of social and religious restrictions, can grin and caper about as he does. Wonder? Why wonder? Is not the child happy on the nursery floor? Does not he smile through his tears? So with the subjects of these foreign paternal governments, which, whatever their faults, certainly do try to make things immediately pleasant to the very poor: witness Bomba's patronage of the lazzaroni. Ignorance is often bliss, though wisdom be not folly. But of all the retrospects-now that I am sitting in my own study, with my papers about me within, and my work to do without-nothing touches me with so deep a feeling of compassion as the case of permanent residents abroad. I don't mean the invalids, whose search for health occupies and interests them, but the listless, chattering people who live at hotels, and have nothing to do. There is something more than dreary, something appalling in their state. They are the centre of no family, no village, no circle, no set even of tradesmen-nothing abides by them. They move from inn to inn with less hold on the human race than the postboys who help to drive them. Even the very courier, who seems as detached a dot of humanity as any man, is earning his bread by flitting from place to place, and wearing out the signs of his distinctive nationality. He earns his bread by severing himself from his home; but he has probably a wife somewhere, and children who send him letters in large printed characters, with their love and a kiss. Your wandering inn-haunter, however, is earning nothing, loving nothing. In most cases, he is pleasing, voluble, and heartless. He makes the acquaintance of everybody, talks about everything, and will some day be found sick and frightened by the waiter, and die alone in a crowded hotel, to the disgust of the landlord, who will smuggle out his corpse by night, and take care that all the household look as if nothing were the matter. But joy to the man who has a welcome home, and faces the old familiar work with fresh and buoyant heart. Nothing like a pause, and a view of our position from a distance. If you would see the battle, you must mount a hill; and as each man is more or less his own general, it is well for him to step aside out of the smoke and noise for a while, and see how matters look from without. The whole of a scheme reveals itself: we see the tendency of some favourite plan; we decide on cutting off that, on dropping this, on securing such and such a result. We have time to breathe and look about us; we know where objects lie when we return to the battle-our short excursion has shewn us a map of the field; we spare our strength, and are stronger still; we work not only with freshened spirits, but with a far clearer understanding of what we are about, when we come 'back again.' THE METRIC SYSTEM. PARLIAMENTARY blue-books do not generally belong to a popular class of literature, but now and then there appears one that recommends legislative enactments which, if carried out, must affect the everyday-life of the whole community. One such has recently appeared upon the subject at the head of this article, and as but few of our readers will see the book themselves, and fewer still be disposed to wade through the mass of evidence, so as to get a fair idea of the contents, we will put before them briefly their meaning, and the action which it is proposed to take thereon. The metric system, then, is the system of measures, weights, and coins which was some years ago adopted in France, and has been gradually making its way among many other continental nations, and even in America. Russia, also, on the eve of a change in its system, is inclined to adopt the metric, but is waiting to see the course taken by England, which is being rightly regarded as becoming every day more and more the centre of the commercial world. As we know the great and natural indisposition to all change, especially when it involves a dislocation of any of our common usages, we think it will be worth while to call attention to the inconveniences of our own system, if system it can be called. There are in this country not less than ten different measures of weight, independent of local variations. The bushel of wheat means nearly a score of different quantities in as many towns; and it is bought and sold by a multitude of other standards than the bushel in various parts of the kingdom. An acre of land has several different meanings; so has a stone; and in almost every article that can be measured or weighed there is a lack of uniformity of standard. Moreover, even if these local variations were abolished, and there remained no other than the authorised tables of weights and measures, the learning of them by every boy and girl, and the use of them in arithmetic in after-life, form a very serious impediment to a ready and accurate use of figures amongst all classes of the people. To learn the actual influence of this cumbrous system upon education, the council of the International Association for establishing a uniform system of money, weights, and measures, some time since issued circulars to a large number of persons engaged in teaching in various parts of the country, asking what time they considered would be saved in the teaching of arithmetic by the adoption of the metric system. Opinions of course varied as to the amount, though all were unanimous as to the advantage; but the average estimate was this: that of the years ordinarily devoted to arithmetical teaching, from one to two might be certainly saved, and therefore devoted to the pursuit of higher branches of the same subject, besides making pleasant a study which, under our system, excites almost unmitigated disgust. Indeed, we have little doubt that it is from this cause that among Frenchmen there is generally so much more knowledge, at least of the elements of mathematics, than in England, because their arithmetic can be learned in half the time that ours can, and when learned can hardly be forgotten; whereas every English teacher will testify that his work of teaching arithmetic is never done, for however advanced his pupils are in mathematics, they must be periodically drilled in arithmetic, or they will forget it. A more weighty argument, however, with the majority will be the evidence of several men in the class of mechanics, who testified that the system could be learned by average workmen in two, or, at most, in four weeks, and that when it was learned, they were very unwilling to recur to the cumbrous English system. Though, in common use, coins figure as of the greatest importance, yet, as the whole metric system is founded upon the measure of length, we will describe it in the natural order. 371 The standard of length is the metre, which is a tenmillionth part of the meridian of the earth. The length of the complete meridian was deduced from an accurate measurement of a part of a meridian between Dunkirk and Barcelona, and the unit of length thus obtained is equal to about 39 English inches; more accurately, it is 39-371, or 39 English inches. All linear measures larger than this proceed by steps of 10, and the names are derived from the Greek prefixes, deca-, hecto-, kilo-, so that the terms deca100, 1000 metres; but all subdivisions of the metre, metre, hectometre, kilometre indicate respectively 10, descending tenfold every step, are indicated by the Latin prefixes, deci-, centi-, milli-; so that the words decimetre, centimetre, millimetre indicate respectively one-tenth, one-hundredth, and one-thousandth of a metre. It is plain that any given length expressed in metres can be immediately reduced to the multiples or higher denominations by dividing by 10, 100, 1000; or can be reduced to the lower denominations or submultiples by multiplying by 10, 100, 1000; and since the decimal point in any number, as 375-862 metres, separates the whole numbers to the left from the decimal or fractional part to the right, the mere moving of this point to the right one, two, or three places will be equivalent to multiplying it by 10, 100, 1000-that is, reducing it to decimetres, centimetres, and millimetres; and the moving it to the left one, two, or three places is equivalent to dividing it by 10, 100, 1000-that is, converting it into decametres, hectometres, and kilometres. Hence there is no other reduction whatever but the simple moving of a decimal point. From the linear measures are deduced the measures of surface. The unit of superficial measure is the square of the decametre or length of ten metres, and is called the are. This derives its greatest importance from its being employed in the measurement of land. Only one multiple and one submultiple of the are are employed, namely, the hectare and centiare; the hectare is equal to about 21 English acres. We next proceed to measures of capacity. These are the same for solids and for liquids, and would therefore supersede our dry measure, wine, and ale and beer measures. The unit is the litre, which is the cube of the decimetre or tenth of a metre; but for convenience it is generally reduced to cylindrical form. Its multiples and submultiples are named from the Greek and Latin prefixes, precisely as we have explained in the case of the metre. The litre is equivalent to about 1 English pints, and the kilolitre to 220 gallons. Of course all volumes, such as the capacity of a room, or the solid contents of a mass of stone or brick work, are expressed in the cubes of the linear measure, just as in the English system they are expressed in the cubes of the linear inch, foot, or yard. In immediate connection with the measures of capacity are the weights. The unit or standard is the gramme, which is generally Anglicised into gram, and is the weight of the volume of water contained in the cube of a centimetre, when the water is at its greatest density. All other weights are derived from it, as has been shewn in the case of the metre and litre, by the employment of Greek and Latin prefixes. The gram is used for weighing light and small substances, as a medical dose, or a letter, and is nearly 16 grains troy; the kilogram is used for heavier substances, and is equivalent to about 23 lbs. troy. Lastly, come the coins. There are but two moneys of account the franc, and its hundredth part, the centime. The franc is the unit or standard, and consists of five grams of standard silver, with a small portion of copper alloy; and, as is well known, is equivalent to about tenpence English. The centime is a small copper coin, whose diameter is a centimetre, and weight a gram; so that one hundred centimes placed in a row would give the length of a metre; or used as a weight, they would give a hectogram, or tenth of a kilogram. Hence every centime forms at the same time a coin, a measure, and a weight. We must not omit to remind the reader that though tenths, &c., are the most noticeable divisions in a decimal system, yet halves and quarters, which are the most natural divisions in common life, are very readily expressed in decimals, as well as in common fractions, and could be employed in every day transactions, in perfect harmony with the metric system. We may remark that a decimal system has long been in use in all bullion and mint transactions; and that in the manufacture of Armstrong guns, where extreme accuracy is desired, the superintendent of the factory gave evidence that this accuracy not admitting an error of a thousandth of an inch, could not be guaranteed without the use of a decimal system of measures. Indeed, in some of the principal manufactories of machines and engines, the metric system has for some time been in full operation. And such is the simplification of work which would ensue from its general adoption, that it is computed that the London and North-western Railway Company would save L. 10,000 per annum; and that the government would annually save in all its departments from a quarter to half a million sterling. Having now explained the system, we will briefly sum up the verdict of the parliamentary committee. As they found that much difference of opinion existed even among warm advocates of the system as to the advisableness of a compulsory introduction of it, they came to the conclusion to recommend that the government should endeavour to pave the way for its introduction in the following ways: That the use of it be rendered legal; that a department of weights and measures be established in connection with the Board of Trade; that government should sanction the use of it in levying the customs' duties; should prescribe it as one of the subjects of examination for those seeking employment in the Civil Service; that the gram should be used as a weight for foreign letters and books in the post-office; and lastly, that the Committee of Council on Education should require it to be taught in all schools which are assisted by government grants.* In looking at the probability of the system being adopted here, a most important question arises; namely, what should be the names employed? It has been suggested that our present names should be retained with the new measures, weights, &c.; but it has been judged, and we think rightly, that such a step would involve increased confusion: and that it would be far better to give new names to new things. Indeed, the ill success of a similar experiment tried in Holland is pretty decisive against such an attempt. But it is allowed that the French names would be alarming to English ears, and that our general population would have an invincible dislike to change their short words, as foot, yard, ounce, pound, &c., for kilograms and hectolitres. To meet this difficulty, a very ingenious system has been devised by one of the witnesses, Mr Fellows of Wolverhampton, whose evidence is well worth consulting by any who wish to examine the question minutely. He recommends that the thousandth of a metre be called Th-o-m or Thom, but a thousand metres, Th-e-m or Them; so also a hundredth of a gram, H-o-g or Hog; and a hundred grams, H-e-g or Heg-where it will be readily seen that the principle of this nomenclature is to take the initials of the number and of the measure or weight, inserting the letter o in the case of submultiples or parts of the unit, and the letter e in the case of the multiples. This certainly secures not only the briefest names that could be devised, but it explains the value of the quantity expressed in a manner which can hardly be mistaken by a person of the most ordinary capacity. But whatever be the merits of the system, it can never thoroughly make its way among the inhabitants of these kingdoms, until at least the educated majority have become satisfied that its introduction would be a boon. In order that they may even have a chance of doing so, they must know it, and we therefore think we are doing the community a service by bringing it before them, and submitting it to their examination; for we are convinced that if its adoption could be secured by general consent, it An account of the proposed Decimal System of reckoning money, with examples and exercises, has been given as an Appendix to the Treatises on Arithmetic in Chambers's Educational Course. would do much, by its simplicity and dispatch, to aid in securing, in an age of keen competition, the undoubted supremacy of our empire as the centre of commerce, and the market of the world. A GUIDE UNDERGROUND. Ir's very inconvenient just now, doctor. The tunnel is in a critical state; the bridge over Bilsbro' Water requires frequent supervision; and the trustees of the new church at Stoneham have asked for estimates about the spire. In six weeks' time, now, or two months at farthest ' 'In six weeks, or two months at farthest, Mr Parkes, your health would have sustained irreparable injury,' interrupted Dr Bromley in his cool, self-cated person, except the curate, within miles. My reliant manner. 'You must try and forget tunnels, bridges, and spires for the remainder of the summer at anyrate. Come, come; no one should be better aware than yourself that no material can bear a constant strain, and least of all, the nervous system of an overworked man. You have placed yourself in my hands, and must follow my prescriptions.' The principal of Dr Bromley's recommendations had been perfect repose from the care and worry of business, combined with pure country air and healthgiving exercise. I grumbled, but I could not help admitting in my heart that the physician was right. I, William Parkes, at your service, senior partner in the well-known engineering firm of Parkes and Spiller, suffered materially from anxiety and incessant hard toil in my professional duties. I had never been robust even in youth, and now, in middle age, I had not called in the friendly aid of Dr Bromley a day too soon. Spiller, a good-natured fellow always, very willingly undertook to take my share of the work, for the next two, or even three months, upon his own shoulders; and I repaired to a pretty and thoroughly rustic hamlet, situated in one of the wildest dales that lie embosomed among the spurs of High Peak, in Derbyshire. The village had not yet been turned into a watering-place; it lay at some distance from any railway, and the wretched state of the cross-road that led to it helped, no doubt, to preserve its primitive aspect of coy seclusion. There was a decent inn, though small; for sometimes artists would be seen sketching the quaint rocks that rose abruptly beside the clear trout-stream, and anglers would make the Duke's Head their sleeping quarters. The fishing was indeed reported to be very good, although I cannot say that I met with any remarkable success in whipping the water. By the doctor's advice, I had provided myself with a limber hickory-rod, a creel, a landing-net, and a more imposing collection of flies, lines, gaff-hooks, brass winches, and artificial minnows, than ever old Izaak dreamed of; but I was sorely lacking in the skill of that great master. 'Stick to fishing, even though you hook nothing but your own fingers,' Dr Bromley had said: 'you must keep moving, Mr Parkes, and force yourself to take an interest in quiet country pursuits, or your mind will be back in Leeds while your body is in Derbyshire, and the fresh air and sunlight will be robbed of half their virtue.' Well, I complied with these instructions. I am not a man to do things by halves; and just as I like to have elbow-room in my own profession, which I understand, and which I have been fond of from boyhood, so do I think a doctor ought to be listened to, if it be worth while consulting him at all. What with long walks to every point of view within a pedestrian's reach, with trying to fish, and with gossiping with the few unemployed mortals I could find, the first fortnight slipped away very pleasantly. Then, indeed, I began to yawn disconsolately, and time hung heavily on my hands. It is always difficult for a toilworn man, naturally and habitually active, to remain contented in idleness. Rest, downright rest, is, strangely enough, only attainable by the lazy and the careless. The best repose for those whose life has been one of exertion is a total change of occupation; but something they must have to engross their energies of mind and body. Do what I would, my thoughts persisted in flying back to the schemes and projects of the busy world I had left, to the world of stone and iron, where man's wit and patience are pitted against the forces of nature, and where every success is hailed as a new triumph for our race. This was a breach of rules, and did me harm; but what could I do? I could not spend more than two hours over the Times; I could not walk for ever, and there was not an educhief ally was a stalwart young fellow, with frank blue eyes, and a very pleasant, honest face, Harry Meade by name. I do not exactly know what post he was supposed to fill in the household of the little inn whose best sitting-room I occupied; but whenever the landlady called for 'Boots,' or 'Porter,' or Ostler,' up came Harry, always fresh and smiling, and he took charge of the traveller's horse and gig, or polished his Balmorals, or carried his portmanteau upstairs to No. 3 or No. 5, as promptly as if that had been the business of his life. What with the garden and the hayfield, the miscellaneous work of the inn, Harry had enough to do, and yet he found time in the cool evenings to give me many a practical lesson in trout-fishing. Thanks to him, I gradually became a little more expert, hooked my own clothes and the bushes less frequently, and sometimes had the satisfaction of beholding a spotted native of the brook fairly caught by my own rod and line, and scientifically brought to bank by Harry, who was adroit with the landing-net. My piscatorial education was far from perfected, however, when my partner, who still wrote to me from time to time, though avoiding, as much as possible, all business topics, happened to mention that our foreman, a valuable man, who had been for several years in our employ, intended to emigrate to Canada, where he had been offered the management of some works. This was a loss to us; but we had another person in our service who was fit for promotion, and the alteration would merely have caused some slight change in the pay and prospects of our subordinates, but for the difficulty of finding a light-porter as good as our present one. In short,' wrote Spiller, half in joke, 'I know of nobody in town, and unemployed, to whom I should like to assign Bates's place; so, if you do come across a fellow at once smart and honest, I shall be obliged to you to pack him off to me.' Bless me!' I exclaimed, as a sudden thought struck me, why, my tutor in the fishing department would be the very man. He would suit us; and our pay, with the certainty that advancement will follow good-conduct, would be sure to suit him. About character, however, one can never be too particular. I'll go to the landlady at once.' The landlady, whom I found as usual, tranquilly knitting among the nets of lemons, the jugs and glittering glasses, of her snug bar, gave the best possible account of Harry Meade's honesty, sobriety, and steadiness. She had known him from a boy, and had nothing but good to tell. She frankly said that he would be a sad loss to the Duke's Head, but that she wouldn't stand in the lad's light, if so be that he got a chance to better himself, and get on in the world. 'I'm not quite sure, though, sir,' pursued the stout matron, eyeing me through her portentous silverrimmed spectacles, that Harry Meade will accept your offer, though I'm certain he'll be thankful, as reason is. But his grandfather-the old Waterloo man, to whom Harry's been the most dutiful of sons, I am sure would be right down broken-hearted if he were to leave the village before the old man were laid in the churchyard; and then, sir, I believe Harry's keeping company with Lucy Brand-Widow Brand's daughter, a good girl, and' Nonsense, Mrs Parsons,' said I rather tartly. 'What business has a youngster of twenty-two or three with courting and marriage, on sixteen shillings a week? Absurd! I shall put the case plainly to the lad, and tell him that if he throws away his present chance of rising in life, he's not very likely to get another.' So saying, I took my hat, and sallied forth, determined to lose no time in letting my future lightporter know my benevolent intentions on his behalf, should he be sensible enough, as I could not doubt, to profit by the prospects held out to him. We are seldom sufficiently awake to our own failings, but I am well aware that one of mine is resentment whenever my friendly offices or well-meant counsels meet with rejection. I am not, I hope, an egotist or a vindictive person, but I own that it does nettle me when others of not half my years and experience will persist in preferring their own judgment to mine. Mrs Parsons had chafed my temper a little by the hint that my offer was likely to be refused, and refused on grounds which to a dry old bachelor like myself appeared frivolous and slight. I knew where old Meade's cottage was, for I had once or twice seen the gray-haired old soldier, his Waterloo medal on his breast, smoking his pipe among the sunflowers and marigolds of the little front garden, and had received his stiff military salute with a nod and a smile. I may as well speak to the old man upon the subject,' said I, as I strode through the village, and turned up the narrowing dale, along the banks of the brawling stream-'I may as well speak to him, who has seen the world, and felt its rubs and buffets, as to his grandson, who is young and rash, and less likely to know on which side his bread is buttered. I like the young man, and if I am not much mistaken, he is one of those handy fellows who are halfengineers by nature. Who knows! he might be our foreman some day, and look forward to having a business of his own. The corporal will soon ' Here I stopped short in my soliloquy, for in turning a sharp corner among the rocky boulders that lay strewn around, I almost ran against a pair of lovers, who were standing in earnest talk below the spreading boughs of a horse-chestnut tree. The shades of evening were falling fast, and the high rocks that rose above the valley had the effect of deepening the shadow, but I easily recognised not only Harry Meade, but his companion, Lucy Brand. The latter was a pretty girl, with dark hair and eyes, the daughter of an old widowed dame who dealt in tapes and bobbins, toffy and cakes, and such petty articles of traffic, in a small cottage-shop which was a humble outpost of the general shop and post-office at A. Widow Brand was a poor and struggling woman, who had much difficulty in making both ends meet, but she was respected, and perhaps looked upon with a little awe in that quiet hamlet, on account of her superior education. She was indeed one of those persons who, to use the hackneyed phrase, had seen better days. Her husband had been overlooker of one of the Peak lead-mines hard by, and had been cut off in the prime of life by one of the accidents incidental to his hazardous calling. Yet Dame Brand had borne misfortunes bravely, and had contrived not only to provide for the maintenance of herself and child, but to teach the latter more than had been imparted to any other of the village maidens. The young people were rather startled by my sudden arrival, for the road was a lonely one, and no roofs except those of Mrs Brand, of old Meade, and of Jessop the carpenter, who dwelt some way from the hamlet, were in sight. Harry touched his hat, and 'Meade, I want to speak with you a moment. I was going to your grandfather's, but as I have met you, I need go no further.' Perhaps my tone was a little dry and harsh; the drier, possibly, because the sight of those two young folks, whispering together in the soft summer twilight, happy in their love, and confident in the future, stirred within me recollections of days long past, when, as Jonathan Oldbuck said, I did not think I should have been always a bachelor. Harry was evidently surprised at the alteration. 'I hope, sir,' he said, 'that nothing is amiss.' 'O dear me, no,' I replied; I want to have a few words with you, that is all, if you have leisure to attend to them.' Already Lucy Brand was gone. I saw her shawl flutter as she turned the corner by the orchard-hedge, and lifted the latch of her mother's cottage. Harry's eyes followed her till she disappeared behind the leafy quickset, and then reverted to me. By this time, I had begun to recollect that nothing was more natural or fitting than this simple attachment between two young persons of the same rank and tastes, and that I had no business to meddle in the matter. 'However,' thought I, 'there is no hurry. Six or seven years hence, if all goes smoothly, will be quite time enough for Harry Meade to saddle himself with the encumbrance of wife and family. And now for the proposition.' So I proceeded to offer Harry the post of light-porter, laying before him fairly the certainty of rising in station and substance, in the event of his continuing to merit the approval of the firm of Parkes and Spiller. "Thirty shillings a week, to begin with, are good wages,' said I in a business-like manner; and if you have a knack for drawing and a good eye for measurement, you will soon be able, with a little instruction, to rise to something better. We have plenty to do, and with us the labourer who is really worthy of his hire is never stinted. I think you told me the other day that you had had sufficient schooling to read and write well, and to be master of the first four rules of arithmetic.' 'Yes, sir,' said the young man timidly; 'but' 'Pooh, pooh!' said I, with patronising good-nature; I am sure you will soon get on, and will suit us nicely. You will have a good deal to learn, of course, about the properties of metals, mensuration, and building, before you are capable of taking the superintendence of a working-party, but as light-porter you will have plenty of spare time for study. Mrs Parsons gives you, I am glad to find, the best of characters. Continue as you have begun, and you may die a rich man and a gentleman.' 'But, indeed, sir'- almost stammered Harry Meade. 'There, not a word more,' said I with a laugh; 'I dare say you feel strange at the first idea of the thing, but you will soon take a pleasure in your new duties. Mr Spiller wants the place to be filled up at once. Can you be ready by Monday?' 'But, sir, thanking you most humbly,' broke in Harry, with a sort of desperation, 'I have made up my mind that I must refuse your very generous offer of the place.' What a gasp I gave, and how my ears tingled, in sheer astonishment. I declare that I could hardly believe the evidence of my hearing. 'To refuse the place,' said I very slowly. Then Harry ceased stammering, and spoke out like a man, in blunt speech, but with a sort of native delicacy that would have touched me at another time. He was very grateful to me, that he begged me to believe, but he could not leave Sherborne village, he could not |