Chapter X: Front Matter (10)

All the preparations having been seen--the making of the machinery, the filling of the spools, the drawing and "reading in" of the pattern, and the tying of the cords or strapping, we have to see the great process of all, the actual weaving. We certainly had no idea how fine a spectacle it might be. Floor above floor is occupied with a long room in each, where the looms are set as close as they can work, on either hand, leaving only a narrow passage between. It may seem an odd thing to say; but there is a kind of architectural grandeur in these long lofty rooms, where the transverse cords of the looms and their shafts and beams are so uniform, as to produce the impression that symmetry, on a large scale, always gives. Looking down upon the details, there is plenty of beauty. The light glances upon the glossy colored silks, depending, like a veil, from the backs of the looms, where women and girls are busy piercing the imperfect threads with nimble fingers. There seems to be plenty for one person to do; for there are thirteen broad ribbons, or a greater number of narrow ones, woven at once, in a single loom; yet it may sometimes be seen that one person can attend the fronts, and another the backs of two looms. In the front we see the thirteen ribbons getting made. Usually, they are of the same pattern, in different colors. The shuttles, with their gay little spools, fly to and fro, and the pattern grows, as of its own will. Below is a barrel, on which the woven ribbon is wound. Slowly revolving, it winds off the fabric as it is finished, leaving the shuttles above room to ply their work.

The variety of ribbons is very great, though in this factory we saw no gauzes, nor, at the time of our visit, any of the extremely rich ribbons which made such a show at the Exhibition. Some had an elegant and complicated pattern, and were woven with two shuttles (called the double-batten weaving) which came forward alternately, as the details of the rich flower or leaf required the one or the other. There were satin ribbons, in weaving which only one thread in eight is taken up,--the gloss being given by the silk loop which covers the other seven. On entering, we saw some narrow scarlet satin ribbons, woven for the Queen. Wondering what Her Majesty could want with ribbon of such a color and quality, we were set at ease by finding that it was not for ladies, but horses. It was to dress the heads of the royal horses. There were bride-like, white-figured ribbons, and narrow flimsy black ones, fit for the wear of the poor widow who strives to get together some mourning for Sundays. There were checked ribbons, of all colors and all sizes in the check. There were stripes of all varieties of width and hue. There were diced ribbons, and speckled, and frosted. There were edges which may introduce a beautiful harmony of coloring; as primrose with a lilac edge, green with a purple edge, rose color and brown, puce and amber, and so on. The loops of pearl or shell edges are given by the silk being passed round horse-hairs, which are drawn out when the thing is done. There are belts,--double ribbons,--which have other material than silk in them; and there are a good many which are plain at one edge, and ornamented at the other. These are for trimming dresses. One reason why there are so few gauzes, is that the French beat us there. They grow the kind of silk that is best for that fabric, and labor is cheap with them; so that any work in which labor bears a large proportion to the material, is peculiarly suitable for them.

We have spent so much time among the looms, that it is growing dusk in their shadows, though still light enough in the counting house for us to look over the pattern-book, and admire a great many patterns, most, till we see more. Young women are weighing ribbons in large scales; and a man is measuring off some pieces, by reeling. He cuts off remnants, which he casts into a basket, where they look so pretty that, lest we should be conscious of any shop-lifting propensities, we turn away. There is a glare now through the window which separates us from the noisy weaving room. The gas is lighted, and we step in again, just to see the effect. It is really very fine. The flare of the separate jets is lost behind the screens of silken threads, which veil the backs of the looms, while the yellow light touches the beams, and gushes up to the high ceiling in a thousand caprices. Surely the ribbon manufacture is one of the prettiest that we have to show.

If the Coventry people were asked whether their chief manufacture was in a flourishing state, the most opposite answers would probably be given by different parties equally concerned. Some exult, and some complain, at this present time. As far as we can make out, the state of things is this. From the low price of provisions, multitudes have something more to spare from their weekly wages than formerly, for the purchase of finery: and the demand for cheap ribbons has increased wonderfully. As always happens when any manufacture is prosperous, the operatives engage their whole families in it. We may see the father weaving; his wife, on the verge of her confinement, winding in another room, or, perhaps, standing behind a loom, piecing the whole day long. The little girls fill the spools; the boys are weaving somewhere else. The consequences of this devotion of whole households to one business, are as bad here as among the Nottingham lace-makers, or the Leicester hosiers. Not only is there the misery before them of the whole family being adrift at once, when bad times come, but they are doing their utmost to bring on those bad times. Great as is the demand, the production has, thus far, much exceeded it. The soundest capitalists may be heard complaining that theirs is a losing trade. Less substantial capitalists have been obliged to get rid of some of their stock at any price they could obtain: and those ribbons, sold at a loss, intercept the sales of the fair-dealing manufacturer. This cannot go on. Prosperous as the working-classes of Coventry have been, for a considerable time, a season of adversity must be within ken, if the capitalists find the trade a bad one for them. We find the case strongly stated, and supported by facts, in a tract, on the Census of Coventry, which has lately been published there. It might save a repetition of the misery which the Coventry people brought upon themselves formerly--by their tenacity about protective duties, and their opposition to steam power--if they would, before it is too late, ponder the facts of their case, and strive, every man in his way, to yield respect to the natural demand for the great commodity of his city; and to take care that the men of Coventry shall be fit for something else than weaving ribbons.

From the Examiner.

BARTHOLD NIEBUHR, THE HISTORIAN.[20]

Niebuhr was born pre-eminently gifted, was trained by intellectual and tender parents, and his whole career is one story of the progress made by a mind which united extraordinary powers with untiring industry. But Niebuhr was not only born to achieve greatness. He achieved love and friendship in every relation of his life, he was a high-minded and in the purest sense of the word an earnest man. In intellect he was a giant among us; but in him the intellect was not a statue raised above the moral life, on which it trod as on a pedestal, a block of mere stone-mason's work; his heart had not been used up in the making of his brains, or his soul cleared out a sacrifice to make room for a new stock of understanding. We may yield our minds up to admire Niebuhr unreservedly, and it is pleasant therefore to get a _Life_ of him in English, so full as this is of the actual man, as he poured out portions thereof to his bosom friends, and wherein the large lumps of true Niebuhr gold are contained in a biographic deposit which itself is a long way removed from dross. The quiet, unaffected way in which this work has been done by the English writer of the book before us, her elegant simplicity of style, her thorough mastery of the subject, enable us to pass from Life to Letters, and from Letters back to Life, without any sense but of a perfect harmony between both. The two volumes are of a kind that can be read through from the beginning to the end with unremitting pleasure. We strongly suspect that Niebuhr, at the age of twelve, would have bewildered with his knowledge some few of our university professors. Here is part of a sketch, representing him when he was not very far removed from long clothes:

How keenly alive he was to poetical impressions appears from
a letter of Boje's written in 1783: "This reminds me of
little Niebuhr. His docility, his industry, and his devoted
love for me procure me many a pleasant hour. A short time
back I was reading 'Macbeth' aloud to his parents without
taking any notice of him, till I saw what an impression it
made upon him. Then I tried to render it all intelligible to
him, and even explained to him how the witches were only
poetical beings. When I was gone, he sat down (he is not yet
seven years old), and wrote it all out on seven sheets of
paper without omitting one important point, and certainly
without any expectation of receiving praise for it; for,
when his father asked to see what he had written, and showed
it to me, he cried for fear he had not done it well. Since
then he writes down every thing of importance that he hears
from his father or me. We seldom praise him, but just
quietly tell him where he has made any mistake, and he
avoids the fault for the future.

"The child's character early exhibited a rare union of the
faculty of poetical insight with that of accurate practical
observation. The amusements he contrived for himself afford
an illustration of this. During the periods of his
confinement to the house, before he was old enough to have
any paper given him, he covered with his writings and
drawings the margins of the leaves of several copies of
Forskaal's works, which were used in the house as waste
paper. Then he made copy books for himself, in which he
wrote essays, mostly on political subjects. He had an
imaginary empire called Low-England, of which he drew maps,
and he promulgated laws, waged wars, and made treaties of
peace there. His father was pleased that he should occupy
himself with amusements of this kind, and his sister took an
active part in them. There still exist among his papers many
of his childish productions; among others, translations and
interpretations of passages of the New Testament, poetical
paraphrases from the classics, sketches of little poems, a
translation of Poncet's Travels in Ethiopia, an historical
and geographical description of Africa, written in 1787 (the
two last were undertaken as presents to his father on his
birth-day), and many other things mostly written during
these years."

Here is Niebuhr, at the age of thirty-four, Professor in Berlin, after he had retired from official trusts which had imposed as many toils upon him as would have made an enormously active life for one of the most ancient tenants of our English pension list to look back upon:

"Niebuhr's relinquishment of office, in 1810, forms an
important epoch in his life. He was now thirty-four years of
age, and since his twentieth year (with the exception of the
sixteen months passed in England and Scotland), had been
actively engaged in the public service. During this period
he had indeed never lost sight of his philological
researches, but he had only been able to devote to them his
few hours of leisure; now, it was to be seen whether he
could find satisfaction in the life of a student, after
years passed in the midst of the great world, and surrounded
by exciting circumstances. How far he had, however, turned
these leisure hours to account, may be judged by the
following memorandum, found, with many others of a similar
kind, among his papers, and written most probably in
Copenhagen about 1803:

"Works which I have to complete: 1. Treatise on Roman
Domains. 2. Translation of El Wakidi 3. History of Macedon.
4. Account of the Roman Constitution at its various Epochs.
5. History of the Achaean Confederation, of the Wars of the
Confederates, and of the Civil Wars of Marius and Sylla, 6.
Constitutions of the Greek States. 7. Empire of the
Caliphs."

"No detailed outlines of these, or any of his other literary undertakings are to be found; but it must not be inferred that such memoranda contain mere projects, towards whose execution no steps were ever taken. That Niebuhr proposed any such work to himself, was a certain sign that he had read and thought deeply on the subject, but he was able to trust so implicitly to his extraordinary memory, that he never committed any portion of his essays to paper, till the whole was complete in his own mind. His memory was so wonderfully retentive, that he scarcely ever forgot any thing which he had once heard or read, and the facts he knew remained present to him at all times, even in their minutest details.

"His wife and his sister once playfully took up Gibbon, and asked him questions from the table of contents about the most trivial things, by way of testing his memory. They carried on the examination till they were tired, and gave up all hope of even detecting him in a momentary uncertainty, though he was at the same time engaged in writing on some other subject. He was once conversing with a party of Austrian officers about Napoleon's Italian campaigns. Some dispute arose respecting the position of different corps in the battle of Marengo. Niebuhr described exactly how they were placed, and the progress of the action. The officers contradicted him; but on maps being brought he was found to be in the right, and to know more of the details of the conflict than the very officers who had been present. One day, when he was talking with Professor Welcker of Bonn, the conversation happened to turn on the weather, and Niebuhr quoted the results of barometrical observations in the different years, as far back as 1770, with perfect accuracy. This power was not a merely mechanical faculty; it was intimately connected with the power of instantaneously seizing on all the relations of any fact placed before him, and with his wonderful imagination; his imagination, however, was that of an historian, not of a poet--it was not creative, but enabled him to form from the most various, and apparently inadequate sources, distinct and truthful pictures of scenes, actions, and characters. Hence his keen delight in travels: hence, too, his habit of pronouncing judgment on the men of other countries and of past times, with all the warmth of a fellow-countryman and a contemporary.

"With his warm affections, and clear-sighted moral sense, it was impossible for him to form such opinions on past or present history, coolly standing aloof, as it were, and regarding the subject with calm superiority; he could not but condemn and despise all that was pernicious and base; he could not but love and reverence, with his whole heart, whatever was noble and beautiful. Such opinions and feelings he expressed with the utmost frankness, sometimes even with vehemence, when prudence would have counselled more guarded language."

Here is Professor Niebuhr holding up a bright example to our friends who fear to look ridiculous in rifle clubs:

"On the evacuation of Berlin by the French in February,
1813, Niebuhr shared in the national rejoicings, and not
less in the enthusiasm displayed in the preparations for the
complete re-conquest of freedom. When the Landwehr was
called out, he refused to evade serving in it, as he could
take no other part in the war. His wish was to act as
secretary to the general staff; but if this were not
possible, he meant to enter the service as a volunteer with
some of his friends. For this purpose he went through the
exercises, and when the time came for those of his age to be
summoned, sent in his name as a volunteer to the Landwehr.
He would have preferred entering a regular regiment, and
applied to the King for permission to do so; but this
request was refused by him, and he added that he would give
him other commissions more suited to his talents.

"Niebuhr's friends in Holstein could hardly trust their eyes
when he wrote them word that he was drilling for the army,
and that his wife entered with equal enthusiasm into his
feelings. The greatness of the object had so inspired Madame
Niebuhr, who was usually anxious, even to a morbid extent,
at the slightest imaginable peril for the husband in whom
she might truly be said to live, that she was willing and
ready to bring even her most precious treasure as a
sacrifice to her country."

Hitherto we have quoted the biography, but on this point, and at a time when we are seeking to forearm ourselves against the chance of evil, it may edify us to hear Niebuhr himself speak on the theme of ball practice. Niebuhr, it should be remembered, writes at a time when two volumes of his great work, the "History of Rome," had been appreciated by the public:

"I come from an employment in which you will hardly be able
to fancy me engaged--namely, exercising. Even before the
departure of the French, I began to go through the exercise
in private, but a man can scarcely acquire it without
companions. Since the French left, a party of about twenty
of us have been exercising in a garden, and we have already
got over the most difficult part of the training. When my
lectures are concluded, which they will be at the beginning
of next week, I shall try to exercise with regular recruits
during the morning, and as often as possible practice
shooting at a mark..... By the end of a month I hope to be
as well drilled as any recruit who is considered to have
finished his training. The heavy musket gave me so much
trouble at first, that I almost despaired of being able to
handle it; but we are able to recover the powers again that
we have only lost for want of practice. I am happy to say
that my hands are growing horny; for as long as they had a
delicate bookworm's skin, the musket cut into them
terribly."

And now let us give a view of Niebuhr as Professor in Bonn, together with a few well-written notes upon his character:

"We have seen that, at Berlin, Niebuhr delivered his
lectures _verbatim_ from written notes. At Bonn, on the
contrary, his only preparation consisted in meditating for a
short time on the subject of his lecture, and referring to
authorities for his data, when he found it necessary, and he
brought no written notes with him to the lecture-room. His
success in imparting his ideas varied greatly at different
times, as it depended almost entirely on his mental and
physical condition at the moment. He always felt a certain
difficulty in expressing himself. He grasped his subject as
a whole, and it was not easy to him to retrace the steps by
which he had arrived at his results. Hence his style was
harsh and often disjointed; and yet he possessed a species
of eloquence whose value is of a high order--that of making
the expression the exact reflection of the thought--that of
embodying each separate idea in an adequate, but not
redundant form. The discourse was no dry, impersonal
statement of facts and arguments, or even opinions; the
whole man, with his conceptions, feelings, moral sentiments,
nay passions too, was mirrored forth in it. Hence Niebuhr
not merely informed and stimulated the minds of his hearers,
but attracted their affections. That he did this in an
eminent degree, was not indeed owing to his lectures alone,
but also to his kind and generous conduct. All who deserved
it were sure of his sympathy and assistance, whether
oppressed by intellectual difficulties, or pecuniary cares.
During the first year, he delivered his lectures without
remuneration; afterwards, on its being represented to him
that this would be injurious to other professors who could
not afford to do the same, he consented to take fees, but
employed them in assisting poor scholars and founding
prizes. He often, however, still remitted the fee privately,
when he perceived that a young man could not well afford it,
and never took any from friends.

"But those who were admitted to his domestic circle were the
class most deeply indebted to him. His interest in all
subjects of scientific or moral importance was always
lively; and it was impossible to be in his company without
deriving some accession of knowledge and incentive to good.
From his associates he only required a warm and pure heart
and a sincere love of knowledge, with a freedom from
affectation or arrogance. Where he found these, he willingly
adapted himself to the wants and capacities of his
companions; would receive objections mildly, and take pains
to answer them, even when urged by mere youths, and weigh
carefully every new idea presented to him. He was fond of
society, and while his irritability not seldom gave rise to
slight misunderstandings and even temporary estrangements in
the circle of his acquaintance, there were some friends with
whom he always remained on terms of unbroken intimacy, among
whom may be named Professors Brandis, Arndt, Nitzsch, Bleek,
Naeke, Welcker, and Hollweg. He enjoyed wit in others, and in
his lighter moods racy and pointed sayings escaped him not
unfrequently.

"His intercourse was not confined to literary circles. In
all the civil affairs of the town and neighborhood he took
an active interest from principle as well as inclination,
for he considered a man as no good citizen who refused to
take his share of the public business of the neighborhood in
which he lived; and the loss which left so great a blank in
the world of letters, was also deeply regretted by his
fellow-townsmen of Bonn. Niebuhr's mode of life at Bonn was
very regular, and his habits simple. He hated show and
unnecessary luxury in domestic life. He loved art in her
proper place, but could not bear to see her degraded into
the mere minister of outward ease. His life in his own
family showed the erroneousness of the assertion that a
thorough devotion to learning is inconsistent with the
claims of family affection. He liked to hear of all the
little household occurrences, and his sympathy was as ready
for the little sorrows of his children as for the
misfortunes of a nation. He was in the habit of rising at
seven in the morning, and retiring at eleven. At the simple
one o'clock dinner, he generally conversed cheerfully upon
the contents of the newspapers which he had just looked
through. The conversation was usually continued during the
walk which he took immediately afterwards. The building of a
house, or the planting of a garden, had always an attraction
for him, and he used to watch the measuring of a wall, or
the breaking open of an entrance, with the same species of
interest with which he observed the development of a
political organization. The family drank tea at eight
o'clock, when any of his acquaintance were always welcome.
But during the hours spent in his library, his whole being
was absorbed in his studies, and hence he got through an
immense amount of work in an incredibly short time."

Finally, here is the death of the immortal historian:

"The last political occurrence in which Niebuhr was strongly
interested, was the trial of the ministers of Charles the
Tenth; it was indirectly the cause of his death. He read the
reports in the French journals with eager attention; and as
these newspapers were much in request at that time, from the
universal interest felt in their contents, he did not in
general go to the public reading-rooms where he was
accustomed to see the papers daily, until the evening. On
Christmas Eve and the following day, he was in better health
and spirits than he had been for a long while, but on the
evening of the 25th of December he spent a considerable time
waiting and reading in the hot news-room, without taking off
his thick fur cloak, and then returned home through the
bitter frosty night air, heated in mind and body. Still full
of the impression made on him by the papers, he went
straight to Classen's room, and exclaimed, 'That is true
eloquence! You must read Sauzet's speech; he alone declares
the true state of the case; that this is no question of law,
but an open battle between hostile powers! Sauzet must be no
common man! But,' he added immediately, 'I have taken a
severe chill, I must go to bed.' And from the couch which he
then sought, he never rose again, except for one hour, two
days afterwards, when he was forced to return to it quickly
with warning symptoms of his approaching end.

"His illness lasted a week, and was pronounced, on the
fourth day, to be a decided attack of inflammation on the
lungs. His hopes sank at first, but rose with his increasing
danger and weakness; even on the morning of the last day he
said, 'I may still recover.' Two days before, his faithful
wife, who had exerted herself beyond her strength in nursing
him, fell ill and was obliged to leave him. He then turned
his face to the wall, and exclaimed with the most painful
presentiment, 'Hapless house! To lose father and mother at
once!' And to the children he said, 'Pray to God, children!
He alone can help us!' And his attendants saw that he
himself was seeking comfort and strength in silent prayer.
But when his hopes of life revived, his active and powerful
mind soon demanded its wonted occupation. The studies that
had been dearest to him through life, remained so in death;
his love to them was proved to be pure and genuine by its
unwavering perseverance to the last. While he was on his
sick bed, Classsen read aloud to him for hours the Greek
text of the Jewish History of Josephus, and he followed the
sense with such ease and attention, that he suggested
several emendations in the text at the moment; this may be
called an unimportant circumstance, but it always appeared
to us one of the most wonderful proofs of his mental powers.
The last learned work in which he was able to testify his
interest, was the description of Rome by Bunsen and his
friends, which had just been sent to him; the preface to the
first volume was read aloud to him, and called forth
expressions of pleasure and approbation. He also asked for
light reading to pass the time, but our attempts to satisfy
him were unsuccessful. A friend proposed the 'Briefe eines
Verstorbenen,' which was then making a great sensation; but
he declined it, faying he feared that its levity would jar
upon his feelings. One of Cooper's novels was recommended to
him, and excited his ridicule by its extraordinary verbiage;
he was much amused by trying an experiment he proposed,
which consisted in taking one period at hap-hazard on each
page; and by the discovery that this mode of reading did
little violence to the connection of the story. The
'Colnishe Zeitung' was read aloud to him up to the last day,
with extracts from the French and other journals. He asked
for them expressly, only twelve hours before his death, and
gave his opinion half in jest about the change of ministry
in Paris. But on the afternoon of the 1st of January, 1831,
he sank into a dreamy slumber; once on awakening, he said
that pleasant images floated before him in sleep; now and
then he spoke French in his dreams; probably he felt himself
in the presence of his departed friend De Serre. As the
night gathered, consciousness gradually faded away; he woke
up once more about midnight, when the last remedy was
administered; he recognized in it a medicine of doubtful
operation, never resorted to but in extreme cases, and said
in a faint voice, 'What essential substance is this? Am I so
far gone?' These were his last words; he sank back on his
pillow, and within an hour his noble heart had ceased to
beat."

"Niebuhr's wife died nine days after him, on the 11th of the
same month, about the same hour of the night. She died, in
fact, of a broken heart, though her disease was, like his,
an inflammation of the chest. She could shed no tears,
though she longed for them, and prayed God to send them;
once her eyes grew moist, when his picture was brought to
her at her own request, but they dried again, and her heavy
heart was not relieved. She had her children often with her,
particularly her son, and gave them her parting counsels.
And so her loving and pure soul went home to God. Both rest
in one grave, over which the present King of Prussia has
erected a monument to the memory of his former instructor
and counsellor. The children were placed under the care of
Madame Hensler, at Kiel."

Our copious extracts from the biographic portion of the work will amply satisfy the mind of any one who needs more than report to convince him of the tact and good taste which have presided over the transformation of Madame Hensler's _Lebensnachrichten_ into a readable and interesting book, which is likely to be read for years as the best English record of a life that will be looked back upon with interest by all posterity.

FOOTNOTES:

[20] The Life and Letters of Barthold George Niebuhr; with Essays on his Character and Influence, by the Chevalier Bunsen and Professors Brandis and Loebell. Two volumes. Chapman & Hall.

From Household Words.

PICTURE ADVERTISING IN SOUTH AMERICA.

The concentrated wisdom of nations used formerly to be sought for in their proverbs; we look for it now-a-days in their newspapers. Whether we always find what we seek, in this respect, may be a question; but something is sure to turn up in them that will repay the search, though the leading article, the records of parliament and of law, or even the letters of "our own correspondent," may fail to disclose it. The "intelligent" reader will at once see that we point to the advertising columns, but we are not going to inflict an epitome of the first and second pages of the _Times_, or present an abstract of its Supplement, characteristic of our country as the result might prove. We purpose to go somewhat further afield, and tread upon ground hitherto unbroken. A file of South American newspapers has suggested to us that it might prove amusing, if not instructive, to describe the wants and wishes, the habits of life, and something of the pervading tone of society, in certain parts of that hemisphere, as shown in the advertisements of the periodical journals. We have selected the city of Buenos Ayres for this illustration, and turn at once to our file.

The political feature is absent here, for where men have always arms in their hands to establish a new "Constitution," or destroy an old one, they look elsewhere than to a newspaper advertisement for the arena wherein to exhibit their valor or patriotism. Their "London Tavern," their "Town Hall," their "Copenhagen Fields," or "Bull-ring," are to be found on their wide-spreading Pampas, or in the fastnesses of their Sierras, with the _lasso_ at the saddle-bow, the sharp spur on the heel, the _trabrigo_ (carbine) in the holster, and the lance or sabre in the grasp. These politicians have no time for reading or writing advertisements, nor would it answer any very useful purpose if they did. The only attempt that is ever made to catch the patriotic eye, is where a formal notice is issued by the authorities, touching taxes, or a muster of militia for some peaceful end; on these occasions, a "_Viva la Federation!_" (Long live the Confederation!) appears at the head of the advertisement announcing the fact; and when it has a quasi-military character attached to it, the portrait of an infantry soldier under arms, in white tights, Hessian boots, crossbelts, stiff stock, and ponderous chako (none of them very pleasant things to think of in latitude thirty-four degrees south, with the thermometer ninety-six in the shade), is invariably added. But the confederation is not appealed to merely because the nature of the advertisement may seem to require it; we find the same heart-stirring refresher associated with ass's milk, live turtle, runaway slaves--with everything, indeed, that has an interest for the community, portable or edible, necessary to its comfort, or serviceable to its desires.

But if liberty has very little claim on the advertising columns of a newspaper in Buenos Ayres, there is a large set-off in favor of slavery. The papers teem with notices concerning that portion of the people who have the misfortune not to belong to themselves. And here it may be desirable to advert to a feature which is essential to the success of an advertisement in South America; it must be pictorial. Our own country newspapers, and most of the continental ones,--those of our Parisian friends in particular,--show us what can be done in this way; but they do not elaborate their subject after the manner of the Buenos-Ayreans. With them the advertisement must have a double chance; they who can read may enjoy the advantages of a liberal education in plain type;--they who have not been introduced to the schoolmaster may gather the meaning of the "noticia" from the greater or less striking resemblance of the object advertised to the woodcut which illustrates it. It is true, a difficulty may sometimes arise in the latter case, owing to an economical employment of the same block to represent a great variety of actions; the same slave is always in the attitude of a fugitive, whether he be described as running away with all his might, or quietly standing still to be sold; the same horse is always in a high trotting condition, whether he be supposed to career across the plain, or hold up a foot to be shod; the same bull has always his head bent down, with the same mischievous poke of the horns, whether he be advertised for slaughter or recommended for sport.

A cook who might make a pudding with quick-lime instead of flour, and instead of a bath-brick send in a real one, would not accord with the notions of an English housewife. Female slaves who are to be sold, are represented as like to Atalanta, as the males are to Hippomenes. They, too, attired in a long night-gown, which has very much the look of impeding their flight, are always bolting with a bundle, which probably contains the bonnet they never appear in, or the shoes they are not supposed to wear. In like manner, if you wish to buy (_se desca comprar_) a slave, of either sex, you do so with your eyes open; for the great probability that the new purchase will vanish on the first favorable opportunity, is vividly get forth in the woodcut that speaks for all. The prices are tolerably high,--a boy, as we have seen, fetches nine hundred dollars; a woman-servant (_una criada_), fifteen hundred; and a man in the prime of his age,--for manual labor,--eighteen hundred, or two thousand. What a fortune Louis Napoleon might make, if he could establish a market-value for those whom he proscribes! M. Thiers would then be worth four hundred pounds!

The next step is to religion,--or, at least, to its forms and ceremonies. We see the vignette of an altar-table, covered with a fair cloth, whereon stand a crucifix, and a pair of long waxen tapers, in full blaze, a holy-water pot, and a sprinkling-brush, are placed beside the table, beneath which is spread a handsome carpet. So much for the emblem; now for the text:

"Dona Agustina Lopez de Rosas, the citizens Don Prudencio
and Don Gervacio Ortiz de Rosas, and others, brothers, wife,
and sons of the deceased Don Leon Ortiz de Rosas (Q.E.P.D.),
invite those gentlemen who, by accident, have not received
notes of invitation, to accompany them to pray to God for
mercy on the soul of the aforesaid deceased, in the
Cathedral Church, at ten o'clock of the 20th of March
current, by which they will feel under infinite obligation."

The next is a more than half-obliterated impression of an image of the sun, partly obscured by clouds, with the obligato crucifix in the midst, headed "Ave Maria;"--it is the third advertisement (_tercer aviso_), and is addressed by the Superiors (Mayordomos) of the most Holy Rosary to all faithful and devout sons of the most holy Mary.

The text of this address we need not give; the substance will be sufficient. It tells the history of the completion of the two naves and other parts of the church of the Patriarch San Domingo, which have been painted, whitewashed, and otherwise decorated, in the sight of all the faithful (_a la vista de todos los fieles_), and--to make a long story short--money is wanted to make it what the priests wish it, and' therefore the superiors intend to stand daily in the chief porch to receive subscriptions, the smallest sums being--as in England, and every where else--most gratefully received.

The mortuary advertisements are not absolutely a transition "from praying to purse-taking;" only a variety of the same general mode of dealing. We select two of these:--In the first, we behold a lady in the full-dress evening costume of the Empire, with a very short waist, and very little drapery above it, leaning pensively against a funereal monument; an embroidered pocket-handkerchief being placed beneath one elbow, to protect it from the cold marble; in her left hand she carries a substantial wooden cross, which is held so as to fall over the shoulder; a weeping willow on the opposite side to the mourning lady balances the composition. Below the picture is the announcement that "Funereal letters (_Esquelas de Funerales_) of every tasteful description, engraved as well as lithographic, and at a very moderate price, are to be obtained at the printing-office of the Mercantile Gazette, in the street of Cangallo, No. 75, where designs of all kinds maybe seen." The second is more sombre in outward show, but less applicable to the general business of the advertiser. It is headed, "Interesting to all whom it may concern." (_Interesante a quienes conguenga._) We have here a very black tree, a very black tombstone, and a very black sky; the outline of the two former relieved by gleams of light from a very full moon; and having gazed our fill on these melancholy objects, are told that--"In the street of Victory, at No. 63-1/2, at all hours of the day, an individual is to be met with who undertakes to supply every description of cards or notes of invitation, whether for funerals or any other kind of entertainment; he undertakes at the same time to serve those gentlemen who may honor him with their orders, with the very best goods, &c.," after the approved fashion of advertisers all over the globe.

Natural history affords the Buenos-Ayreans great scope for their artistical genius. Don Federico Costa announces a grand spectacle of wild beasts; and that there may be no mistake about what he has to show, he heralds his collections with the full-length portrait of an Uran-utan (_Orangutan_), which he describes as a native of Africa. This interesting animal is seated on a bank, with a large stick in one hand, looking over his shoulder, and displays an endless amount of fingers and toes; the greater the number, the nearer, in Don Federico's opinion, the creature's approach to humanity. There is a wonderful bit of shadow thrown from one of the Uran-utan's legs, which puts one in mind of the footprint that so startled Robinson Crusoe; and, indeed, the general appearance of the animal is not unlike some of the earlier portraits of that renowned mariner, only nature has done for the Uran-utan what art and goat-skins accomplished for the solitary of Juan Fernandez.

The moral attributes of Don Federico's pet are strongly insisted upon in the advertisement,--his excellent disposition, the ingenuity of his mind, and (included in "_la moral_") the surprising dexterity with which he scoops out the contents of a cocoa-nut "in a manner most pleasing (_muy agradable_) to the beholders." His companions in captivity are porcupines, tiger-cats, ounces, armadillos, and a number of animals bearing local names, besides divers snakes of different colors, two thousand well-preserved insects, and, finally, (_por ultimo_,) a collection of antiquities from Mexico. The price of admission is two _reales_--the universal shilling; and children, in Buenos Ayres, as in London, are admitted for half-price.

A livelier turtle than that which is figured for the edification of the gourmands who frequent the Hotel of Liberty in the street of the 25th of May, it would be difficult to find even in the celebrated cellars of Leadenhall-street. If we were wholly unacquainted with the domestic habits of these scaly delicacies, we might easily imagine, from the picture here given, that the way a turtle gets over the ground is by flying, his outstretched feet and flippers serving him for wings. This advertisement is brief,--on the principle that good wine needs no bush. We are merely informed that turtle-soup, cutlets, and broiled fins, are to be had from mid-day till sunset. There is no occasion for the hotel proprietor to waste his money in commending wares such as these. The picture and the hour of consummation would have been enough.

It is well that invalids should be told, that at No. 76, in the Street of Maipu, the milk of an ass "recently confined" is always on sale; but the woodcut attached to the advertisement makes the fact appear doubtful; for a sturdier male animal than the "burro" there depicted, was never painted by Morland or Gainsborough. This, however, may arise from the necessity which exists for one of a sort doing duty for all. But there is another singularity in this advertisement. With no line to indicate a fresh subject, as is the case in every other instance, the portrait of the ass is always followed by the words "Long live the Confederation! Death to the Unitarians!" These lines have puzzled us; and we hesitate to give the only explanation that strikes us: something disrespectful, in short, to the Confederation of Buenos Ayres.

It is not only the slaves that run away in that part of South America: the infection extends to dogs, horses, and oxen, all of which, like Caliban, seem for ever on the look out to "have a new master, get a new man," to hunt, ride, or drive them. There is a daily column, headed "Perdida," in which long-tailed horses, with flowing manes, pointers in immovable attitudes, for ever pointing, and sinister-looking bulls--thorough-paced gamblers, always ready for pitch-and-toss--are advertised as having left their owners, who strive to win them back by rewards varying twenty to fifty dollars. In all these cases the missing animals are described as having "disappeared" (_desaparecido_)--a mild term for "stolen;" it being the Spanish custom to refrain from "wounding ears polite"--except when the blood is up; then, indeed, they may take the field against Uncle Toby's army, that swore so terribly in Flanders.

This delicate mode of appealing to the consciences of thieves--which, carried fairly out, would probably bear a strong resemblance in the end to the politeness of Mr. Chucks--is extended to property of all kinds. A large watch, of the genus turnip, the hands pointing to half-past eleven, the time, perhaps, when the robbery is supposed to have taken place, and accompanied by the expressive word "Ojo" (look sharp) thrice repeated, indicates, what the advertisement soon plainly tells, that from No. 69, in Emerald-street, there have "disappeared" a valuable lot of articles, which give a very good idea of the turn-out of a well-mounted horseman in South America. There are, first, several pairs of large silver spurs--and a pair of Spanish spurs, when melted down, would make a decent service of plate,--quite enough for a "testimonial" to ourselves; and then come braided headstalls and bridles, with twisted chains and cavessons of silver; the reins hung with silver-bells, and decorated with silver bosses, and the bits and curbs heavily mounted with the same costly metal. This robbery has been evidently "a put-up thing," for there is no word of housebreaking,--merely a disappearance; and all silversmiths, pawnbrokers, and the public in general, are entreated (_se suplica a los, &c._) to detain the article, if offered, and a reward of two hundred dollars will be given. Perhaps the gentlemen who caused the horses to disappear have taken this mode of procuring caparisons!

Quack-medicine vendors are not wanting in Buenos Ayres to render important services to humanity. Two magnificent cut-glass decanters, gigantic in proportion to a tree of wondrous virtues which stands between them, are stated to be full of a healing medicine, which will do the business of all whom the faculty have given up or are otherwise incurable, as effectually as Parr's Life Pills or Holloway's Ointment. The chief establishment for the sale of this elixir is very carefully pointed out; and for the benefit of future travellers we may mention, that it is to be found at No. 496 in the street of Cangallo, and in the very last door on the left-hand side, behind the windmill; and that in the court-yard of the house there is a garden filled with statues, of which the originals are probably defunct; but whether the elixir out of the two large decanters had any thing to do with this apotheosis, we refrain from conjecturing.

The preceding advertisements are the most noticeable for embellishment and style. The ordinary kind of wants are set forth with woodcuts and text of a less striking kind, but almost all are illustrated. Wine has a barrel for its sign; music, a violin; travelling, a carriage; gardening, a flower-pot; upholstery, a chair; the cobbler's mystery, a top-boot; the hatter's, a beaver; and the letter of lodgings, a house full of windows. Not all of them are confined to the Spanish language, for there are many English merchants and traders; and to accommodate the last, a notice like the following recommends the aforementioned Street of Piety:

"To Det. To roms in altos one Squaz from the Place of
Victory."

The author of this announcement certainly had not achieved a victory over the English language.

From the London Examiner.

GUIZOT AND MONTALEMBERT.

The greatest novelty now in Paris is a speech. Any specimen of oratory that the police will first allow to be spoken, and then to be printed, is quite an attraction. Indeed there is but one remaining chance of perpetrating a speech, and that is by achieving your election as a member of the Institute, or being appointed as an old member to welcome the newly-elected academician. These are the only legitimate opportunities for making one's voice heard in public that M. Bonaparte's code has left to the Frenchman.

In pursuance of this solitary permission on the part of the authorities, the Paris journals have contained reports of two remarkable speeches, the one uttered by Count Montalembert on his being elected to the seat in the Academy, rendered vacant by the death of M. Droz; the other spoken by M. Guizot, in the form of an address of welcome to the new academician, M. de Montalembert. Now in the speeches of these, the first authorized orators of the new despotic _regime_, we find so little to awaken the susceptibilities of even M. Bonaparte's police, that we have heard with unaffected wonder of the scissors of the censorship having been applied even to them. The philosophy of the speeches is terribly Conservative. M. Bonaparte himself could have desired no other. If his highness the President had embraced the two academicians after their speeches, and decorated them with the Grand Cordon of his new Order, it would have been but a tribute justly due to these lay preachers of absolutism.

Eulogy of Droz was the theme which afforded Count Montalembert the opportunity to ventilate his opinions, as M. Guizot's theme was the eulogy of Montalembert. Montalembert depicted how Droz, who had reached youth at the commencement of the great revolution, joined in all its theories, its hopes, and its excesses, anathematizing kings and priests, and believing in the happy and final reign of pure democracy; and how all this the same Droz lived to unlearn and to correct, and to settle down as quiet and as arrant a Conservative as ever supported monarchic government and a restored church. This is the true path of repentance, exclaimed Montalembert, and the only road to wisdom.

The compliment to tergiversation, which M. Montalembert thus paid to Droz, M. Guizot applied to Montalembert himself, whom he (M. Guizot) had remembered commencing his political career in full opposition, thundering against corrupt majorities, against kingly influence, and even against that want of spirit which preferred being at peace with neighbors to provoking them. But all that sort of constitutional opposition leads, as the people have seen, to the triumph of socialism; and so all wise people, like M. Montalembert, naturally become sick of it, and abandon it, betaking themselves for a preference to the old political religion of legitimacy and worship of absolutism. Of all the national disgraces inflicted upon France by M. Bonaparte's triumph, we know of none greater than such a hymn to servility, such anathemas and farewells to constitutional freedom, uttered by these two Talleyrands of the professorial and ecclesiastical schools, who have been changing principles all their lives, and now proclaim at last that absolutism is the only anchor to hold by.

On one point M. Montalembert impugned the philosophy of M. Droz, and in doing so impugned not less the opinion of M. Thiers, and most of the eminent men who have written histories or judgments upon the great events of the Revolution. Droz, relating these events in after life, saw in their march and series the influence of stern necessity. Such was the congregated mass of evils of all kinds produced by the long misgovernment of the despotism and corrupt regime of the Bourbons, that a catastrophe like that of the Great Revolution was, according to Droz, not to be avoided. No human power could stop it, no moderation, no wisdom. In its path men were like the mere vegetable growth of a valley down which a torrent comes in inundation, sweeping all before it.

But M. Montalembert, for his own part, has another way of viewing the events of the Revolution. He denies the doctrine of fatalism or of necessity. He will not allow that the follies of the monarchy drew down after them the crimes of the Republic as a natural consequence. He sees in all those events, on the contrary, a direct intervention of Providence, who inflicted the sufferings of the Revolution upon the French simply as retribution for their crimes and a punishment for their sins. Providence, in the imagination of Count Montalembert, is a Nemesis with sword and scourge in hand, exercising its chief duty in castigating humanity; and thus doth the French Academy in the middle of the nineteenth century proclaim the philosophy of history.

M. Guizot avoided the recognition of any assertion so extravagant as this, and so very unfair to poor Jaques Bonhomme. The crimes of the old monarchy were confined to the court, the clergy, the aristocracy, and the financiers; whereas the poor peasant was ground to poverty, yet a proverbially honest and cheerful fellow amidst his ignorance and privations. But, according to Montalembert, Providence sent the Revolution to punish the crimes of duchesses; and this Revolution decimated, arrested, and sent to perish all over the world poor Jaques Bonhomme. Was this justice? M. Guizot did not, as we say, endorse this portion of the Montalembert philosophy. But he warned the Count of having in his early life made one grand mistake, in allying religion with liberalism, and putting the names of both combined on the banners of opposition. M. Guizot could hardly mean that religion, like fortune, should be always on the side of the greatest number of battalions. For should not this be the creed of M. Bonaparte, rather than of his illustrious Academicians?

From Household Words.

AN ACCOUNT OF SOME TREATMENT OF GOLD AND GEMS.