and examined with regard to their separate effect as well as mutual relation, but it generally happens in disputes of this kind between different parishes, that the facts upon which the conclusion of law has to be founded have to be gathered up after the lapse of many years, during which the necessary witnesses may have died, or the documentary proofs been destroyed. Haverfordwest was fortunate a second time in obtaining such evidence. The settlements in Prendergast and St Thomas's both depended upon circumstances which occurred nearly half a century before. And now it again became a question between Bedminster and its former opponent, St Thomas's. The circumstances were altered. It would be of no consequence now to inquire whether Albina was legitimate or illegitimate because if the latter, she would belong to St Thomas's, her birthplace; if the former, she would follow her father's settlement, which was in the same parish. Nothing further could be ascertained pointing to the probability of John Griffiths having afterwards gained another settlement in some other place before his daughter's marriage to her first husband in 1845.* There could be no defence, then, on the part of St Thomas's, unless the settlement of either of the husbands could be discovered. Upon this contingency depended the only chance of this parish being able to evade the order. The overseers of Bedminster had been trying for this long time past to learn from what part of the kingdom these men had come, but without success. St Thomas's could scarcely hope to be more fortunate in this respect. It really seemed as if one place in Haverfordwest had at last been found to which the paupers must be sent, and this quæstio vexata set at rest for ever. And be it remarked, that if the order for their removal were not appealed against, no after-discovery of a settlement in some other parish that would have prevailed against it would entitle St Thomas's to send them away to such other parish-a rule that may be operative of permanent injustice in cases where facts are afterwards brought to light, which, from no negligence or default of the parish acquiescing in the order, cannot be presently ascertained. But such is the law. The time for deliberation was fast expiring. Mrs Ellis's statements on all subjects relating to her husbands were so confused and contradictory, that it had been found impossible to make anything of them. Letters had been written to the Secretary of War, and to the commanding officers at the dépôts of the 37th and 94th Regiments, but the answers had yielded nothing that would assist the inquiry. As to Robert Ellis, his name did not even appear upon the rolls of the 94th Regiment; and as to Henry Taylor, there had been a sergeant of that name in the 37th Regiment, but he had died at Colombo, in Ceylon, in 1854. The case seemed a hopeless one for St Thomas's. At the last moment, a fact was ascertained, in itself of no bearing upon the question, but which ultimately led to the discovery of what had been so long wanting in this remarkable case. Upon being further questioned as to her first husband's family, Mrs Ellis stated that he had a brother, about six years younger than himself, who was also a soldier in the same regiment. What was his name? His name was Reuben, and he also had died in Ceylon. Here, then, was a clue. If a family of the name of Taylor could anywhere be found in which there had been two brothers named Henry and Reuben, both of whom had enlisted as soldiers, there would be little difficulty in tracing the place of their birth, and then the only link wanting to complete the chain of proof would be their identity with the husband and brother-in-law of the pauper Albina. Where had these men, or either She thereby became what the law calls emancipated, and would not follow any settlement her father might afterwards acquire. of them, enlisted? If this could be ascertained with any degree of certainty, and it should appear that they had both enlisted at the same place, as well as into the same regiment, the place of their birth would probably be not far off. Again the authorities at the Horse Guards were applied to, and this time with better success. A man named Reuben Taylor had enlisted into the 37th Regiment at Banbury, in Oxfordshire, in 1850. To Banbury, the town of cakes, the journey from Haverfordwest was a long one, but it was worth taking to accomplish the object in view. Supposing Reuben to have been about twenty years old when he enlisted, the parish register of his baptism might be looked for in Banbury and the neighbouring villages under the year 1830. Many a parish register was searched before the persevering patience of the person to whom this duty was intrusted was rewarded. In the little village of Horley, in Oxfordshire, about seven miles from Banbury, there lived an old man, named Richard Taylor, and his wife Ann Taylor; and in the church hard by were the records of the baptism of their nine children, all of whom were born in Horley, and two of whom were named 'Henry' and 'Reuben.' What had become of them? 'Ah, sir!' said the old man, 'it's many a day since I hear tell of my two brave boys. Henry went as a soldier first; and when Reuben was old enough, he went after his brother. The poor boy listed into the same regiment before he was eighteen years old.' And, pray, what was the number of the regiment, Mr Taylor?' Why, the 37th to be sure, sir; and Henry, he rose to be sergeant.' 'And where was the regiment stationed when Reuben enlisted?' asked the stranger, around whom the younger branches of the third generation of the family were now crowding. 'Indeed, sir, and that I can't say; but it was at some place in what they call the East Indies; and both my sons died there-Henry first, and then Reuben." 'Wait afore you say as you don't know, Richard,' interrupted the goodwife. Why not shew the gentleman the letters as we got from Henry while he was there?' The letters were produced, and with them also a handsome Malacca cane-a cherished token of affection in that humble home, for it had been a dying gift from Henry to his father, intrusted to the hands of Sergeant Osborne of the 15th Regiment, and which the kind sergeant, faithful to his promise, had made a journey into Oxfordshire expressly to deliver. Most of the letters were dated from Colombo. They spoke of the writer's children-of the boy who had died-of his daughter Harriet and of the arrival at Colombo of his brother Reuben. One of them concluded with the words, From your affectionate children, H. and A. Taylor.' But it was observed that Mr and Mrs Taylor had both forgotten the maiden name of their son's wife. The proofs of the identity, however, would have satisfied the most incredulous. The reader who has patiently traced with me the multiform windings of this dispute to the point it had now reached, may not unnaturally suppose that even now the final materials for 'settling the paupers had not been found. But it happened otherwise. Bedminster had a strong case against St Thomas's; but it had thus become in the power of St Thomas's to shew that it had a stronger one against Horley. The question between them was tried out upon appeal at Bristol, on the 5th of July 1860. A venerable old man, who had come all the way from Oxfordshire, was called as a witness by the appellants, and had the pleasure of hearing it solemnly argued, pro and con, whether a respectable-looking woman and two children, who had just made his acquaintance, were his daughter-in-law and grandchildren. He had already acknowledged those children as the veritable son and daughter of his own son Henry; and the judicial districts of the Campi Phlegrei or the Puy de answer did not disappoint him. The legal conse-Dôme, but with the remarkable peculiarity, that the quence of this finding has been explained. bottom of the crater is, in many instances, very deeply Horley parish raised no obstacle, and so it came to depressed below the general surface of the moon, the pass at last that there the paupers were 'settled.' SUNRISE ON THE MOON. IT is well known that some new and remarkable facts connected with the physical constitution of the moon have been revealed by the telescope within the last few years; the lunar surface has been measured and mapped by several observers, and its features laid down with as much exactness as if the subject of delineation was some mountainous region of our own planet. The moon's surface presents a wondrous scene of lofty isolated heights, craters of enormous volcanoes, ramparts, and broad plains that look like the beds of former seas, and present a remarkable contrast to the rugged character of the rest of the surface. That what we look upon are really mountains and mountainous ranges is sufficiently evident from the fact, that the shadows they cast have the exact proportion, as to length, which they ought to have from the inclination of the sun's rays to their position on the moon's surface. The convex outline of the moon, as turned towards the sun, is always circular, and nearly smooth; but the opposite border of the enlightened part, instead of being an exact and sharply defined ellipse, is always observed to be extremely rugged, and indented with deep recesses and prominent points. The mountains near the border cast long black shadows, as they should evidently do, inasmuch as the sun is rising or setting to those parts of the moon. But as the enlightened edge gradually advances beyond them, or, in other words, as the sun to them gains altitude, their shadows shorten; and at the full moon, when all the light falls in our line of sight, no shadows are seen. By micrometrical measurement of the length of the shadows, the heights of the more conspicuous mountains can be calculated. Before the year 1850, the heights of no fewer than one thousand and ninety-five lunar mountains had been computed, and amongst them occur all degrees of altitude up to nearly twentythree thousand feet a height exceeding, by more than a thousand feet, that of Chimborazo in the Andes. It is a remarkable circumstance that the range of lunar Apennines, as they have been called, present a long slope on one side, and precipices on the other, as in the Himalaya Mountains. During the increase of the moon, its mountains appear as small points or islands of light beyond the extreme edge of the enlightened part, those points being the summits illuminated by the sunbeams before the intermediate plain; but gradually, as the light advances, they connect themselves with it, and appear as prominences detached from the dark border.* The moon, unlike the earth, has many isolated mountains, that is to say, mountains not connected with a group or chain-the mountain named Tycho, which has the appearance of a sugar-loaf, is an example of this. The uniformity of aspect which the lunar mountains for the most part present is a singular and striking feature. They are wonderfully numerous, especially towards the southern portion of the disc, occupying quite the larger part of the moon's surface, and are, as Sir John Herschel remarks, almost universally of an exactly circular or cup-shaped form, foreshortened, however, into ellipses towards the limb. The larger of these elevations have for the most part flat plains within, from which a small steep conical hill rises centrally. They offer, indeed, the very type of the true volcanic character, as it may be seen in the crater of Vesuvius, and in a map of the volcanic • Herschel's Outlines of Astronomy, p. 758 (ed. 1850). internal depth being often twice or three times the external height. It has been computed that profound cavities, regarded as craters, occupy two-fifths of the surface of the moon. One of the most remarkable of these formations is fifty-five miles in diameter; and to give some idea of its magnitude, the late Professor Nichol used to say that, could a visitor approach it, he would see rising before him a wall of rock twelve hundred feet high, like the precipices of Schihallion in Perthshire; and on mounting this height, would look down a declivity or slope of thirteen thousand feet, to a ledge or terrace, and below this would see a lower deep of four thousand feet more: a cavity exceeding, therefore, the height of Mont Blanc, and large enough to hold that mountain besides Chimborazo and Teneriffe. Again, the lunar crater, called Saussure, is ten thousand feet in depth. These astounding calculations are founded on the observation of the sun's light falling on the edge, and illuminating the side of these gigantic depths. The Dead Sea, the greatest known depression on the earth, is thirteen hundred and forty feet below the level of the Mediterranean. Striæ or lines of light, which appear like ridges, radiate from many of these enormous craters, and might be taken for lava-currents, streaming outwards as they do in all directions, like rays. The ridges that stream from the mountain called Tycho seem to be formed of matter that has greater power of reflecting light than the rock around it; the crater named Copernicus is equally distinguished by these rays. The ridges, in some instances, cross like a wall both valleys and elevations, and traverse the plains as well as the rocky slopes of the lunar mountains; from which fact, and from the great distances they extend, it would seem that they are not such lavastreams as have flowed, for example, from Etna. It has been supposed that a force acting, as it were, centrifugally or explosively, and therefore differently from the force to which we attribute the upheaval of mountain-chains upon the earth, has formed the lunar craters, and overspread the adjacent surface with the ridges or rays in question. In Professor Phillips's recent contributions to a Report on the Physical Aspect of the Moon, he notices another class of phenomena-certain remarkable rills in the mountains mapped as Aristarchus, Archimedes, and Plato. The last exhibits a large crater; and a bold rock which juts into the interior has been seen during the morning illumination to glow in the sunshine like molten silver, casting a well-defined shadow eastward. The object known as the Stag's-horn Rill, east of the mountain Thebit, appears to be what geologists call a fault or dyke, one side being elevated above the other. Professor Phillips mentions a group of parallel rills about Campanus and Hippalus, and he traces a rill across and through the old crater of the latter mountain. All the rills appear to be rifts or deep fissures resembling crevasses of a glacier; they cast strong shadows from oblique light, and even acquire brightness on one edge of the cavity. Their breadth appears to be only a few hundred feet or yards. The mountain Gassendi is remarkable for rough terraces and ridges within the rings which form the crater. In the interior area there are central elevations of rocky character, which are brought into view by the gradual change in the direction of the incident solar rays as the lunar day advances. In Lord Rosse's magnificent reflecting telescope, the flat bottom of the crater, called Albategnius, is seen to be strewed with blocks not visible in inferior telescopes; while the exterior of another volcanic mountain (Aristillus) is scored all over with deep gullies radiating towards its centre. The phenomena to which we have now briefly adverted are regarded as decisive marks of volcanic force, and the apparent absolute repose of the moon's surface at the present time, affords a remarkable contrast to the violent action of which it must have been the scene in bygone times. The reader need not be reminded that our knowledge is limited to one hemisphere or face of the moon, in consequence of the period of its rotation upon its axis corresponding with the period of its revolution round the earth. OUR HOME CORRESPONDENT: THE STEPS HE TOOK TO SEE THE ROYAL PROCESSION. strenuous; while an enthusiast, with half a window to let in a second floor in Pall Mall, endeavoured to excite some public curiosity regarding the members for Westminster. I was embarrassed by the multitude of favourable opportunities. Should I take twenty-five pounds of window in St James's Street, with the use of a bagatelle-table?' Or the two rooms in the Edgeware Road (one of which was a back apartment, looking into a mews), at fifteen guineas, with fires and attendance?' Or the suite of apartments' opposite the Marble Arch' for twenty guineas, from which sum, 'if two ladies of position, whose cards would be given, were permitted to share a window, four guineas would be struck off?' The addition of these eligible females struck me as very desirable; so much so, HAVING received my credentials from the proprietors indeed, that I wonder four guineas more, instead of of this Journal, as Home Correspondent, with par- less, were not demanded as the price of their attendticular instructions as to the Royal Procession, I set ance. It was surely an excellent opportunity for myself to consider, as soon as the flutter of self-con-wealthy but unaristocratic persons to obtain an gratulation had somewhat subsided, how this first introduction to society. If, on the other hand, the great task should be most fitly executed. I put aside ladies were proud and haughty, one could obstruct the idea, suggested to me by an acquaintance connected their view, or even insist upon pulling the blinds with the newspaper press, of evolving a royal proces- down, which we should have a perfect right to do. sion from the depths of my moral consciousness, and made up my mind to see it either with the naked eye, or through the medium of those Binocular Fieldglasses, worn round the neck' (!) without which, their inventor informed me, per advertisement, that the procession could not be seen. But in what prominent position (being thus decorated) should I place myself, so that not only might I see the coming princess, but that the gratification might (in some degree) be reciprocal? This was the great question. Money, of course, being no object, should I take an unfurnished house in the city, entirely to myself, at a rent, for the afternoon, which it probably never before fetched per annum? I ran my eye down the columns of the Supplement of the Times, and perceived therein no less than seven such opportunities only waiting my acceptance and cheques for from thirty to two hundred pounds. 'The best position in all London' was offered me in fifty places; near Fishmongers' Hall, upon the Monument, just out of Cheapside,' on Ludgate Hill, at Temple Bar, at the corner of Bleak Street' (wherever that is), in Pimlico, at Paddington, and at Windsor. 'Covered seats, obtaining a long and uninterrupted view,' were to be obtained everywhere, even at the most unexpected places, such as Western Road, Brighton, and High St., Tunbridge Wells. Nothing particular could be said upon the advantages possessed by the last two localities, for even the Binoculars only professed to command an area of ten miles; but advertisers who had seats in the City delicately hinted that if you remained in the West End, you might just as well go to bed; while advertisers in the West End retorted that you might go to the City, indeed, between the hours of four and seven A.M., but would never return alive on the same evening. 'By the way, we must observe,' remarked Ludgate Hill, that as the Princess Alexandra will not reach Bricklayers' Arms Station till about three o'clock in the afternoon, the procession cannot reach the West End till dusk.' The Borough suggested that ‘a good daylight view' was preferable. In vain did Farringdon Street-made (somehow) 'doubly desirable, in consequence of the recent amicable arrangements between the government and the civic authorities'-proffer words of peace. Fleet Street sternly remarked: The Civic Procession leaves at Temple Bar,' in an Emersonian sentence, all to itself-just as though the entire nation were panting once more to behold that swordbearer sitting sideways, and preventing the Lord Mayor from looking out of window. Upon the other hand, the attempts on the part of the Strand to make capital out of the Duke of Buccleuch, as an attractive spectacle, were equally Should I take a room 'exclusively for a family,' but capable of accommodating five-and-twenty persons,' which is certainly a pretty large domestic circle; or should I hire those thousand seats in one lot, in six rows, one above another,' and either occupy that entire space myself, or invite a few personal friends to share it? Or should I purchase timber, die square, planks, deals, &c., on very low terms,' at that 'old-established timber-yard' in Southwark, and set up a scaffolding of my own, on that 'eligible piece of waste land near the Bricklayers' Arms?' If so, what should I do with the die square? Those justly famous 'large and comfortable widows' to be hired at Charing Cross, I gave up with a sigh, for the duties of a Home Correspondent would be inconsistent, I was well aware, with such social temptations. Nor was the above the only misprint in the advertisements of the procession, unless the drawing-room balcony in Connaught Terrace was really capable of accommodating twenty thousand volunteers,' and afforded an excellent view of upwards of forty persons.' All these things were to be got for money; but what if I could go to my bootmaker's, or my tailor's, or my tooth-extractor's, upon the line of route, and simply request a seat upon the ground of being an excellent customer? Alas, my bootmaker, my tailor, my toothdrawer, had each put forth his advertisement that he had now placed all his windows at the service of his patrons, and could positively accommodate no others.' He was obliged, with regret, to publish this statement, in order to prevent disappointment.' I wonder whether the patrons were admitted under a guinea a head! I wonder whether my bootmaker (for instance) had an eye (while the other winked) solely directed to puffing his own wares! Beside these establishments, the only place which was absolutely closed to me was one in the escort of the ladies of Great Britain,' from which I was unfortunately precluded by my sex male. But I wonder who made the Loyal Suggestion, that the lady-equestrians of England should form an escort to Her Royal Highness the Princess through the streets of London,' for which the fashionable tailor was 'prepared to furnish an equestrian uniform on the auspicious occasion?' Until I beheld his advertisement, I had positively never heard of such a proposal having been made at all! The advertisement which would have obtained my choice, in my private capacity, would undoubtedly have been that since celebrated one emanating from the churchwardens of St Martin's-in-the-Fields, offering the use of a church and the benefit of clergy, with a series of pieces on the organ,' as well as a covered seat in the churchyard adjacent, to behold 6 our future queen. But a Home Correspondent must restrain his devotional impulses, lest he gets locked up (for example) for two whole hours, contrary to his will, and forbidden to open his mouth, while the subsequent scramble, when the order of release at last arrives, resembles the contents of the Ark endeavouring to escape, as one bear, through a small square aperture. I was still hankering, however, after a seat in St Martin's-in-the-Fields, when Sergeant (of another Temple), a college-friend of mine, of an eminently practical turn of mind, wrote to ask me to lunch with him on the 7th, and after that, to witness the all-engrossing spectacle. He lodged in a street off Piccadilly, which we will call Charges Street (though his invitation was, of course, a friendly one, not to be paid for), and his windows, as I understood, would command an excellent sideview. The attraction, however, set forth in his note was a private billiard-table, upon which himself and friends were to play pool until the time arrived for sight-seeing. You remember,' said his postscript, those billiardrooms in the Strand, which we hired on the day of the last great public procession, and got our amusement and our spectacle in one; the proprietors have acquired wisdom since that time, and are charging five-and-thirty guineas for the windows alone.' That postscript, reminding me, as it did, of a very pleasant far-back day, decided me upon closing with my friend's offer, and giving up, though regretfully, that series of pieces on the organ. There had also been not one syllable breathed by the churchwardens of St Martin in respect to luncheon, and my system requires luncheon almost (or quite) as much as my soul thirsts after impressive harmony. broom in passionate appeal to gods and men and Volunteers, in vain), was hurried westward, and only suffered to enjoy the full use of his own legs upon reaching the Edgeware Road. Finding myself deposited in that thoroughfare by such exceptional and unprecedented means, I deemed it only proper to explore the neighbourhood, and not fight against Fate by endeavouring to retrace my steps. Sombre as the streets hereabouts usually are, they were now gay with extemporised decoration-inexpensive splendour. Banners (of calico) were flying, joy (hand) bells pealing, organs (with a monkey on them) discoursing soulthrilling music. Upon all faces, too, sat a genuine good feeling, a Welcome not to be purchased by certain monarchs still upon their thrones at the price of half their kingdoms. I have never seen so many smiling lips, or so few frowns, on any London morning. I knew not where the omnibusfuls (if I may be allowed to introduce that graceful word into the English language) of crusty, stupid, egotistic people, who are to be seen daily hurrying citywards, had hid themselves upon the 7th of March at 9 A. M.; but they were certainly absent from the streets, and their places occupied by quite a different company. All tongues were talking about Her God bless her! Where was she now? they wondered, and when would her sweet face shine upon them there? It was all wonder, for nobody knew anything for certain, except the platform proprietors, some of whom appeared to be in receipt of momentary telegraphs regarding her royal movements. Come early; Take your seats, ladies and gents; She'll be here at two;' She 'll be here at twelve;' 'She'll be here before you're comfortably seated, now;'Come early, please come early, do!' The bells clashing from the Paddington steeples, echoed, 'Please come early, please come early, do.' And the public did come early. It came at nine, and it had come at eight, and at seven, and at six. It had come overnight, as I honestly believe, and slept in its numbered seats under the waterproof coverIt had come with books in its hand to beguile the time, and with sandwiches in its pocket to repair the destruction of tissue, and with brandyflasks to keep up its spirits at their unprecedented pitch. It had come at two guineas a head, and it had come at sixpence (on a plank gallantly sustained by two washing-tubs, up to the very moment of the arrival of the procession, when it suddenly broke down), and it was going to have its money's worth out, and it wasn't going away. Talk of Patience on a monument-there was a whole cageful of people on the Monument of London that festal morning who smiled at every grief that passed, and at some that did not pass, but remained behind, such as lumbago, and before, such as cold in the head, for days and weeks to come. Patience! let no man prate of that fictitious personage to me, who saw her very embodiment, fat and fiery-faced, and forty, sitting with all the persistence of a domestic fowl, in Oxford and Cambridge Terrace, next to its triumphal arch, and ever and anon tapping the same with the handle of her gingham umbrella, from morn to dewy eve. I saw her at nine A.M., and I saw her at six P.M. still tapping, like a woodpecker, as though to ascertain whether that elegant artificial structure could possibly be wood, and not the pure white marble that it seemed. On the morning of the 7th I started from Portman Square (in one of the very best houses of which locality I reside), with a wedding-favour on my breast, advertised by the vendor as handsome, yet chaste,' and which was composed of about half-a-dozen artificial flowers, to each of which (he said) was imparted the delicious perfume allotted to it by nature.' I had a slight cold in my head, however, and to that circum-ings. stance I may no doubt attribute the fact that I could distinguish none of those odours. The pool in Charges Street was not to begin till twelve o'clock (though, had an earlier hour been appointed, my duties as Home Correspondent would have prevented my attendance), and in the meantime there was much opportunity for observation. I had intended, in the first instance, to turn eastward, but was driven in the precisely opposite direction by an entire regiment of Volunteers, assisted by its mounted staff. This formidable body, bound for the Park, were marching southward down Baker Street, with their colonel at their head, on horseback; and his unaccustomed steed was so dismayed-either by the number of spectators congregated in the square, or by a German band, with Danish colours, which were playing, Haste to the Wedding, in opposition to the Nancy Dawson of the regimental performers that it fled down Berkeley Street, despite all the efforts of its rider, and the application of a steel scabbard. The obedient troops followed their leader, and thereupon ensued a scene unparalleled in the annals of military experience. The populace, who knew he was going wrong, threw themselves between the colonel and his men, and by ejaculations, gestures, and the waving of cotton umbrellas, compelled them to pause in their misdirected course. "Back, back!''The Park!' 'Where are you a-shovin' to?' 'Never mind 'Im; Ee's run away with, E is'—were a few of the emphatic sentences which were addressed, with appropriate action, to the 92d Royal Diddlesex. Their eloquence prevailed; the course of the Volunteers was violently changed, as also that of the Home Correspondent, who, amid a tide of persons of very various callings (including the Portman Square crossing-sweeper, who tossed his Individual instances of this virtue are often ludicrous, but the aggregate Patience of a great People is a spectacle sublime. The footways of a city paved with eager faces; the voices hushed, but the eyes speaking; its balconies overflowing; its roofs alive with watching, waiting thousands this is a stirring sight, my friends, to all of us who are not philosophers or fools. If, just at the moment when the long procession has passed before you, save that one last carriage, at whose approach all heads are bared in a second, and the air is thick with cheers-when the sound of a mighty people's acclaim bursts suddenly forth, I say, if there is a lump in your throat which forbids you to join in the same, and a tear in your eyes, when you do find voice to join, you need not be ashamed. Very many honourable men will experience those same emotions, although they will probably conceal the fact if you ask them the question. We may ignore the awful Sympathy that exists between every one of us and his fellows, but, thank God, we cannot prevent it. His pocket-handkerchief having been abstracted while he was setting down the above reflections in the rough, the Home Correspondent wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his coat, and turned his steps towards Pall Mall. The decorations on the road hither were more expensive (but not more prodigal), and the crowds better dressed, with the exception of the police, who, here as there, clothed in their little brief authority, stretched it to its utmost limits. They made many an angel weep, who, flounced and furbelowed, wished to penetrate, as usual, in the precise direction which she was forbidden to pursue, with their stern 'You can't pass here, ma'am: all carriages is to keep to the left.' The steps of the Guards' Monument in Waterloo Place were crowded with living figures, not less steadfast than those upon its summit; they had taken up that position before eight-the hour at which the Lords of the Admiralty were embarking at Woolwich to meet the princess at Gravesend-and stood there with eyes fixed steadfastly to eastward, lest they should lose the first signal of Her coming. The Marionettes (in bridal white, in honour of the occasion), who had pitched their theatre in that open space devoted to such frivolities, immediately beneath the cold shade of the Athenæum, could scarce provoke a smile from them. Not so, however, with the people who had not yet obtained a vantage-ground, but who journeyed on in search of one, or waited near the eligible positions in case a vacancy should arise through hunger or disease. 'I shall faint,' observed one stout spectator to his friend, if this crush goes on.' 'I wish you would, and then I shall get a step,' replied a lively neighbour; whereat there was a roar of laughter. Encouraged by this applause, the friend himself remarked: If you faint, Jack, I shall double you up, and stand upon you; or let you out at half-a-crown a foot as a bench-and a good deal of money I should clear from a man of your inches.' thousand carpenters in London, I suppose, nor anything like it. Who therefore were those men, labouring at a guinea an hour, with as much beer as they could drink? Some of them were unskilled mechanics savans with a turn for planing; others were literary men. I recognised several brethren of the pen myself, sitting on the wrong side of window-sills, and cutting out chips, not with the scissors, but the chisel. The entertainments that have since been given in their chambers have been of a much more luxurious character than before. Not a few Irish members of parliament took the opportunity of reembracing the profession of their youth, and with a short dudheen in their mouth, tripped up their ladder to the second floors as though it were to Place and Pension. One or two honest Scotch members, too, deploring the universal extravagance, yet (it is said) managed to turn it into a deserving channel by getting their materials from home, by sea (hammers and nails being here at a fabulous premium), and doing a fair day's work for a very fair day's wage. Certain young barristers of my acquaintance have become quite solvent since these royal festivities, having applied their really good natural abilities to gas-piping. They had never had any opportunity of illuminating the courts of Chancery, and they were panting to do it, but the Vice-chancellor said: 'No; if a strong light was thrown there, the place would be ruined.' But these are grave questions of supply and demand with which I have nothing to do. Let me make my way, slowly but surely, not by force, but with that winning manner which is the characteristic of this Home Correspondent, into Charges Street and luncheon. It distressed me to observe that my practical friend Sergeant lived at the northern extremity of this fashionable spot, whence the view of the procession must necessarily be extremely limited; but he assured me that he had taken steps for our beholding it when the time arrived. In the meanwhile, each guest that joined us had something new to tell of the preparations or the multitude. One had come from the City, where he had seen a brass band saved from destruction by the chivalry of some ladies in a balcony, who had made a rope of their laced handkerchiefs, and drawn up bugle and trombone out of the crush; he told of the anguish of the proprietor of the big drum (which the mob wanted to stand upon), and how the same saving hands had made a sort of fire-escape of shawls, and hauled up the monstrous thing amid the cheers of the fickle multitude; and how, after a little, mothers with infants began to importune these Sisters of Charity to take their babes into safe-keeping, so that when he left, the house had already become an Emporium for all things perishable. Considering what people did pay for as standingground-the tables, the chairs, the rickety threelegged stools (but tall, and therefore at a premium) there was really nothing to surprise one in such a stroke of business. In the plate-glass windows of the The luncheon was excellent, and the pool not less shops were exposed such wares as reminded one of an profitable than usual to the Home Correspondent, eastern slave-market. The ordinary goods had been but a sense of delay in the performance of his duties removed, and their places occupied by gorgeous embittered even these delights. At last, at half-past females in tiers (and smiles), each numbered from three o'clock, when the party had dispersed to their 1 to 70, or even higher: this indicated neither clubs and their balconies in divers places, and I was their age nor their price, of course, but only left alone with my practical friend (who was calmly their position in the shop-front; but the passers- smoking a cigar, as though the Princess was not to by would have it otherwise, and held a mock-pass till to-morrow), I could bear the inaction no auction over their charms, wherewith, though I protest I did not bid, I could not help being vastly amused. The helplessness of the 'lots' in question should have aroused my pity, I know; but their indignation, particularly when a doubt was expressed as to whether their age was not higher than their number, would have drawn smiles from Draco. Who built the forms-the wooden forms, I meanfor all these females? Who framed the scaffoldings? Who fronted every street with wood in sixty hours? Who, think you, were those men in paper-caps who worked outside every house, by day and night, from Bricklayers' Arms to Paddington? There are not forty longer. Come, Sergeant,' said I for the second time, what steps are we going to take to see this procession?' 'We are going to take the steps by which our Mary reaches the chandelier,' returned he; they are eight feet high, and if they will only bear us, we shall see as well as the best of them.' With these words, he led the way to the pantry, where the article in question was reclining against an upper shelf. It was certainly tall-too tall for stability, I thought and it had that peculiar weight which is called top-heaviness. But it was too late |
