Ces jours de deuil par milliers dans l'histoire The third party requested a souvenir of his "first love." ، Vous souvient-il ? de cet enfant de Gnide Fripon rusé, volage et séducteur; Qui par les yeux d'une beauté timide, D'un trait de feu veut nous frapper au cœur. Et que la mort peut seul anéantir, The fourth proposed as a theme, the morning of his marriage. "Vous souvient-il? du jour ou l'hyménée Vint nous dicter ses éternelles loix, En attachant à notre destinée L'objet sacré de notre premier choix. Nous te gardons en pieux souvenir." The fifth proposed the evening of his marriage. "Vous souvient-il? que d' un pas ferme et mâle Nous abordions la couche nuptiale, The last party desired him to wind up with friendship. "Quel souvenir puis-je chanter encore, Il en est un que le tems corrobore, Eh! qui de nous n'a pas dans sa jeunesse, I should imagine that after the gentleman had finished all this, he must have been pretty well out of breath. About four miles from Liege is the celebrated manufactory of Seraing, belonging to Messrs. Cockerell. It is beautifully situated on the banks of the Meuse, and was formerly the summer palace of the Prince Archbishop. But it is not only here that you observe these symptoms of the times-all over France you will perceive the same, and the major portion of the manufacturers have the arms of princes or nobles emblazoned over the façade, while the interiors which once were the abode of refinement and luxury, are now tenanted by artisans and appropriated to utility. The utilitarian system was however more fully exemplified before the Belgian revolution, for William of Nassau was, in fact, a partner of Mr. Cockerell. I his presume portion of the capital was furnished out of the million of industry with which the nation was taxed. Mr. Cockerell, the father, who is now dead, came over from England before the peace, bringing with him either the machinery for spinning cotton or the knowledge necessary for its construction, so jealously guarded by our manufacturers. He established himself at Liege and soon gained patrons. The firm has now three or four manufactories at Liege besides the one at Seraing. Large as was the bishop's palace, it has been added to behind about three times its original size: it reminds me more of Portsmouth yard than any other place. The number of workmen employed in this manufactory alone is between fourteen and fifteen hundred. They make every variety of steam engines, and not only supply this country, but Prussia, Austria, France, and even Russia. People talk of Mr. Cockerell having done much mischief to his country by furnishing foreigners with the machinery which enabled us to undersell them. I doubt it very much: I consider that the sooner other countries are enabled to compete with us to a certain extent the better it will be for England. At present we are in an unhealthy state, and chiefly arising from the unlimited use of machinery. Let us lose that advantage, and if not richer, at all events we shall be much happier. We are now suffering under a plethora of capital at the same time that we are oppressed with debt. As for Mr. Cockerell, it may be very well to cry out about patriotism, but the question is, would not every other man have done the same? Had he not a right to bring his talents to the best market? and before he is accused of having had no regard for his country, it may first be fairly asked, what had his country done for him? (To be continued.) IRISH SONG. SWEET ELLEN O'MORE! THROUGHOUT the green isle, where there's hearts to adore, In her eye there's a light, E'en the rude peasant smiles as she passes his door, Though the daughters of Erin are lovely to see, The sylph of the dance, My heart feels a passion ne'er cherish'd before, SCRAPS FROM SCHOOL AND COLLEGE. Perge, good master, perge; so it shall please you to abrogate scurrility." "MY DEAR PARENTS; "It is with much pleasure that I write to inform you that our vacation will commence on Friday, the fifteenth of December next. "The examination will take place on the eleventh of December, at twelve o'clock, when Dr. Birchemall hopes for the pleasure of seeing you, and that the progress I have already made in the various branches of my education will afford you satisfaction; and that hereafter, with the blessing of divine Providence, I may prove an ornament to society. "I am, my dear parents, "Your dutiful and affectionate son, "Laurel House, Nov. 30, 18-. Such was the missive, which, after spoiling about a dozen sheets of paper in the attempt, I contrived to copy in my best small hand, to the satisfaction of my writing-master; and the remembrance of the task has so haunted me, that in pure revenge, I have written every line, which since that time I have been obliged to indite, as badly and carelessly as shortsightedness and vile pens would permit. Numberless printers' devils have owed their suicides to that holiday letter. Many people have told me that they never enjoy a work until they have seen a portrait of the author. I am afraid I shall hardly be permitted to send the last engraving, after Sir Thomas Lawrence, for insertion in lieu of this paragraph, but a few lines, from a hand which I would were as magical as his, may serve to set your most obedient servant before your eyes. Have the goodness to imagine a person of very prepossessing appearance, of precisely the stature you consider most elegant, with eyes and hair of your favourite hue, and whose tout ensemble is rather an improvement upon the centre figure in M'Clise's picture of the "Peacock Vow." Look upon this being of the fancy through a rich colouring of favouring prejudice, and from what I am now, you will be able to conceive what I was at the time of writing the letter confidentially exhibited above. If Dr. Birchemall's eye should meet this paper, he will hardly forgive me for violating the established order of reverence, and speaking of myself before him. But I have left the most difficult task till last; for though, as Goldsmith says, an angel is soon depicted, the description of that singular composition, a man, requires a large expenditure of labour and patience. Yet there was a time when I mentally decided that I should never forget the smallest portion of my thrice worthy preceptor, which was, when I used to sit, after the manner of a schoolboy, with eye steadily fixed on the magisterial chair, in order to keep guard over the foot, engaged with equal steadiness in kicking the shins-I beg pardon, the lower part of the leg, of my opposite friend. At such times the memory becomes a kind of camera-obscura slate, upon which is dotted down with unerring fidelity the minutest point of the observed object. An elaborate sketch, too, on the cover (flyleaf? ha ha! you were never at school) of a Greek grammar will aid me. Hezekiah Birchemall, D.D. (an addition rather irreverently translated by his pupils) was one of those singular individuals in whom an abstract kindness was intimately blended with a love of individualized pain. Pour l'exemple, he would apparently enjoy the pleasure of bestowing a solicited holiday, and with equal glee administer a perfectly unsolicited if not undeserved castigation. We therefore lost all desire of pleasing his reverence, being quite uncertain whether the lesson whose correct repetition excited a "very good boy," or the exercise whose blunders extracted an astounding box on the ear, was most satisfactory; certainly the same unqualified grin was apparent on each occasion; for the rest, Dr. Birchemall was a fat, flourishing (actually with his cane, and metaphorically in his rotundity) middle-aged man, with very little brown hair, and very large blue eyes, who was always dressed with great neatness, and who particularly piqued himself, as do many of his profession, upon his politeness to the ladies, a circumstance which invested him with peculiar. fascination, when with brushed locks and clothes, and red hands and eyes, his pupils severally presented themselves in the parlour, at the close of each half year, to the gratification of mammas and aunts, the doctor receiving cash and the scholars kisses. It was whispered that an exchange of presents would have afforded no dis―, but hush! here comes Mrs. Birchemall. Poor lady! she led but a sorry life, for she was too kind-hearted for a schoolmistress, though sufficiently passionate when excited. If you did not stand still while that horrible torture, combing, was being performed upon your head, your nose would tingle for an hour after the wrench it would receive from the good woman, and long after the feeling of satiety, caused by the raspberry cakes she bestowed to heal the suffering, had subsided. But we liked her exceedingly, and there could not be a greater proof of our esteem than the fact that the practical jokes, which we inflicted unsparingly upon the rest of the household, neither excepting the venerable tutor, the greasy ushers, nor the enormous housemaid, were never tried upon Mrs. Birchemall. Her extra rosy cheeks, and abundant seals and rings, however, did not escape our satirical notice, any more than a habit she had of coming to church long after service commenced, which we facetiously attributed to her misconstruction of the axiom "nullum tempus occurrit ecclesiæ." But there was one other member of the family, the only daughter. Ah, Betsy Birchemall! she was a beauty. Pooh! don't twit me with schoolboy ideas, I tell you, it was only last week I ———, but I shall not tell that either; you must take my word for the fact. She was so kind, she was the literal goddess of Laurel House; she used to intercede so plaintively with the flogger when an execution was threatened, and look so pityingly on the floggee when it was narrated, and she used to help the potatoes so unsparingly, and mend the torn garment so secretly and expeditiously, that I believe we were all in love with her together. In fact, she exerted herself on one occasion so successfully, namely, in screening one young graceless Frank Hastings, from punishment for an offence that was never before known to have been pardoned, namely, the flinging a pillow out of the bedroom window in one of our nightly battles, which article was utterly spoiled before morning by a heavy shower, that the enfranchised offender, in the height of his gratitude, when we met in school after breakfast, stood upon a form, and concluded a pithy and practical address on the subject, by swearing, neither in a subdued voice nor with a classical oath, that the instant he attained the age of twenty-one he would come to Laurel House, and marry the young lady-a promise not appreciated as it should have been by Dr. Birchemall, who reached the door as it was uttered, and who concluded an equally pithy and practical address on the impropriety of boys using the names of ladies at all, by horsing poor Frank, and impressing him, by divers applications to the back, shoulders, &c., with the idea that the tree of knowledge (as he termed that from which his weapon was made) was a second time tasted for the sake of a woman. As eighty-five letters, nearly copies of my own, had been dispersed in various directions by my fellow-scholars, on the eventful night of the 11th of December, our large school-room was as full as it could well be. Our respected friends and parents were placed on chairs at one end of the apartment, treble rows of forms ran down each side, where sat the future hopes of England, myself included, while, at the remaining end, a small platform was raised for the display of oratorical talent which was to delight the ladies, and remind the gentlemen of Pitt, Burke, Kemble, Canning, or Peel, as might happen. The large easy chair of Dr. Birchemall stood near this stage, in such a position that his smiles might be alike visible to debutant and audience, while his dignified presence, aided by the greasy assistants aforesaid, might check the exuberant mirth of the juste milieu. The ceremony of the evening, though termed an examination, was, in fact, no more than a recital of themes, poems, and speeches, original, extempore, and studied by such of the boys as possessed ambition and nerve enough to raise their voices before about one hundred strangers. Boys are seldom over modest, and consequently the "speakers' list," as we called it, was not very restricted in length. The candles, surrounded with paper frills, wrought by the fair hands of the blooming Betsy, blazed with lustre express for that night only, our friends settled themselves in their seats, the doctor's little signal-bell tingled for attention, and, at his call, a fascinating youth, with clean white. collar, and, trowsers, tight blue jacket, and curly hair, mounted the rostrum, and, after a graceful bow, informed the audience without blush or hesitation that his name was Norval on the Grampian bills," and Adonis Evergreen on Dr. Birchemall's prize list. The silence was deep and awful as the speech proceeded, your humble servant glanced at the watch, with its bright blue ribbon, intended as the second classical prize, which I foreboded was my own, and from thence to the paternal visage opposite, exclaiming, Nov. 1835.-VOL. XIV.-NO. LV. U |