from these poles, two men, standing on either side the trough, take up two poles, souse, and shake, and plunge the silk, and turn that which had been uppermost under the surface of the liquor, and pass on to the next two. When done enough, the silk is wrung out and pressed, and taken to the drying-house. The heat in that large chamber is about one hundred degrees. On entering it, everybody begins to cough. The place is lofty and large. The staves, which are laid across beams, to contain the suspended silk, make little movable ceilings here and there. This chamber contains five or six hundred-weights of silk at once. Our minds glance once more towards the spinning insects on hearing this; and we ask again, how much of their produce may be woven into fabrics in Coventry alone? We think we must have made a mistake in setting down the weekly average at six tons and a half. But there was no mistake. It is really so.

is a brilliant blue; indigo, of course? Yes, sulphate of indigo, with tartaric acid. Here are two yellows: how is that? One is much better than the other; moreover, it makes a better green; moreover, it wears immeasurably better. But what is it? The inferior one is the old-fashioned turmeric, with tartaric acid. And the improved yellow? Oh! we perceive. It is a secret of the establishment, and we are not to ask questions about it. But among all these men employed here, are there none accessible to a bribe from a rival in the art? There is no saying; for the men cannot be tempted. They do not know, any more than ourselves, what this mysterious yellow is. But why does it not supersede the oldfashioned turmeric? It will, no doubt; and it is gaining rapidly upon it; but it takes time to establish improvements. The improvement in greens, however, is fast recommending the new yellow. This deep amber is a fine color. We find it is called California, While speaking of weight, we heard some- which has a modern sound in it. This Napothing which reminded us of King Charles I.'s leon blue (not Louis Napoleon's) is a rich colopinions about some practices which were or. It gives a good deal of trouble. There going forward before our eyes. It appears, is actually a precipitation of metal, of tin, that the silk which comes to the dye-house is upon every fibre, to make it receive the dye; heavy with gum, to the amount of one-fourth and then it has to be washed; and then dipof its weight. This gum must be boiled out ped again, before it can take a darker shade; before the silk can be dyed. But the manu- and afterwards washed again, over and over, facturers of cheap goods require that the ma- | till it is dark enough; when it is finally soused terial shall not be so light as this process in water which has fuller's earth in it, to would leave it. It is dipped in well-sugared water, which adds about eight per cent. to its weight. Many tons of sugar per year are used as (what the proprietor called) "the silk-dyer's devil's dust." It was this very practice which excited the wrath of our pious King Charles, in all his horror of doubledealing. A proclamation of his, of the date of 1630, declares his fears of the consequences of " a deceitful handling" of the material, by adding to its weight in dyeing, and ordains that the whole shall be done as soft as possible; that no black shall be used but Spanish black, "and that the gum shall be fair boiled off before dyeing." He found, in time, that he had meddled with a matter that he did not understand, and had gone too far. Some of the fabrics of his day required to be made of "hard silk;" and he took back his orders in 1638, having become, as he said, "betterinformed."

From trough to trough we go, breathing steain, and stepping into puddles, or reeking rivulets rippling over the stones of the pavement; but we are tempted on, like children, by the charm of the brilliant colors that flash upon the sight whichever way we turn. What a lilac this is! Is it possible that such a hue can stand? It could not stand even the drying, but for the alkali into which it is dipped. It is dyed in orchil first, and then inade bluer, and somewhat more secure, by being soused in a well-soaped alkaline mixture. That is a good red brown. It is from Brazil wood, with alum for its mordant. This

make it soft enough for working and wear. What is doing with that dirty-white bundle? It is silk of a thoroughly bad color. Whether it is the fault of the worm, or of the worm's food, or what, there is no saying-that is the manufacturer's affair. He sent it here. It is now to be sulphured, and dipped in a very faint shade of indigo, curdled over with soap. This will improve it, but not make it equal to a purer white silk. Next, the wet hanks have to be squeezed in the Archimedean press, and then hung up in that large, hot drying-room.

One serious matter remains unintelligible to us. Plaid ribbons-that is, all sorts of checked ribbons-have been in fashion so long now, that we have had time to speculate (which we have often done), on how they can possibly be made. About the colors of the warp (the long way of the ribbon), we are clear enough. But how, in the weft, do the colors duly return, so as to make the stripes, and therefore the checks, recur at equal distances? We are now shown how this was done formerly, and how it is done now. Formerly, the hanks were tied very tightly, at equal distances, and the alternate spaces closely wrapped round with paper, or wound round with packthread. This took up a great deal of time. We were shown a much better plan. A shallow box is made, so as to hold within it the halves of several skeins of silk; these halves being curiously twisted, so as to alternate with the other halves when the hanks are shaken back into

their right position for winding. One half being within the box, and the other hanging out, the lid is bolted down so tight that the dye cannot creep into the box; and the outhanging silk is dipped. So much can be done at once, that the saving of time is very great. and, judging by the prodigious array of plaid ribbons that we saw in the looms afterwards, the value of the invention is no trifle. The name of this novelty is the Clouding Box.

movable pin; by a man's weight applied to a wheel, the pin is drawn down, the hank stretches, and comes out two or more inches longer than it went in, and looking perceptibly brighter. A hank of bad silk snaps under this strain; a twist that will stand it is improved by it.

We see a bundle of cotton. What has cotton to do here? It is from Nottingham-pattern-cards and books. He arranges the very fine and well twisted. It is a pretty pink, and it costs one shilling and sixpence per pound to dye. But what is it for? Ah! that is the question! It is to mix in with silk, to make a cheap ribbon. Another pinch of devil's dust!

Looking into a little apartment, as we return through the yard, we find a man engaged in work which the daintiest lady might long to take out of his hands. He is making shades of all sorts of charming colors, named after a hundred pretty flowers, fruits, and other natural productions, his lemons, lavenders, corn flowers, jonquils, cherries, fawns, pearls, and so forth; takes a pinch of each floss, knots it in the middle, spreads it at the ends, pastes down these ends, and, when he has a row complete, covers the pasted part with slips of paper, so numbered as that each number stands opposite its own shade of color. A pattern-book is as good as a rainbow for the pocket. This looks like a woman's work; but there are no women here. The men will not allow it. Women cannot be kept out of the ribbon-weaving; but in the dye-house they must not set foot, though the work, or the chief part of it, is far from la

There is a calendering process employed in the final preparation of the dried silk, by which, we believe, its gloss is improved; but it was not in operation at the time of our visit. We saw, and watched with great curiosity, a still later process-more pretty to witness than easy to achieve the making up of the hanks. This is actually the most difficult thing the men have to learn in the whole business. Of course, therefore, it is no matter for description. The twist, the insertion of the arm, the jerk, the drawing of the mys-borious, and reqires a good eye and tact, more terious knot, may be looked at for hours and days, without the spectator having the least idea how the thing is done. We went from workman to workman-from him who was making up the blue, to him who was making up the red-we saw one of the proprietors make up several hanks at the speed of twenty in four minutes and a half, and we are no more likely to be able to do it, than if we had never entered a dye-house. Peeping Tom might spy for very long before he would be much the wiser; when done, the effect is beautiful. The snaky coils of the polished silk throw off the light like fragments of mirrors.

Another mysterious process is the marking of the silk which belongs to each manufacturer. The hanks and bundles are tied with cotton string; and this string is knotted with knots at this end, at that end, in the middle, in ties at the sides, with knots numbering from one to fifteen, twenty, or whatever number may be necessary; and the manufacturer's particular system of knots is posted in the books with his name, the quantity of silk sent in, the dye required, and all other particulars.

We were amused to find that there is a particular twist and a particular dye for the fringe of brown parasols. It is desired that there should be a claret tint on this fringe, when seen against the light; and here, accordingly, we find the claret tint. The silk is somewhat dull, from being hard twisted; it is to be made more lustrous by stretching, and we accompany it to the stretching machine. There it is suspended on a barrel and

than qualities less feminine. We found many apprentices in the works, receiving nearly half the amount of wages of their qualified elders. The men earn from ten shillings to thirty shillings a week, according to their qualifications. Nearly half of the whole number earn about fifteen shillings a week at the present time.

And, now, we are impatient to follow these pretty silk bundles to the factory, and see the weaving. It is strange to see, on our way to so thoroughly modern an establishment, such tokens of antiquity, or reminders of antiquity, as we have to pass. We pass under St. Michael's Church, and look up, amazed, to the beauty and loftiness of its tower and spire; the spire tapering off at a height of three hundred and twenty feet. The crumb ling nature of the stone gives a richness and beauty to the edifice, which we would hardly part with for such clear outlines as those of the restored Trinity Church, close at hand. And then, at an angle of the market-place, there is Tom, peeping past the corner,-looking out of his window, through his spectacles, with a stealthy air, which, however ridicu lous, makes one thrill, as with a whiff of the breeze which stirred the Lady Godiva's hair, on that memorable day, so long ago. It is strange, after this, to see the factory chimney, straight, tall, and handsome, in its way, with its inlaying of colored bricks, towering before us, to about the height of a hundred and thirty feet. No place has proved itself more unwilling than Coventry to admit such innovations. No place has made a more desperate resistance to the introduction of steam

power. No place has more perseveringly, iron and steel. Passing up a step-ladder, we struggled for protection, with groans, mena- find ourselves in a long room, where turners ces, and supplications. Up to a late period, are at work, making the wooden apparatus the Coventry weavers believed themselves required, piercing the "compass boards," for safe from the inroads of steam power. A the threads to pass through, and displaying Macclesfield manufacturer said, only twenty to us many ingenious forms of polished wood. years ago, before a Committee of the House While the apparatus is thus preparing below, of Commons, that he despaired of ever ap- the material of the manufacture is getting plying power-looms to silk. This was because arranged, four stories overhead. There, unso much time was employed in handling and der a skylight, women and girls are winding trimming the silk, that the steam power must the silk from the hanks, upon the spools, for be largely wasted. So thought the weavers, the shuttles. Here we see, again, the cloudin the days when the silk was given out in ed silk, which is to make plaid ribbons, and hanks or bobbins, and woven at home, or, the bright hues which delighted our eyes at when the work was done by handloom weav- the dyeing-house. This is easy work,-many ers in the factory-called the loom-shop. The of the women sitting at their reels; and the day was at hand, however, when that should air is pure and cool. The great shaft from be done of which the Macclesfield gentleman the engine, passing through the midst of the despaired. A small factory was set up in building, carries off the dust, and affords exCoventry by way of experiment, in the use cellent ventilation. Besides this, the whole of steam power, in 1831. It was burned down edifice is crowned by an observatory, with during a quarrel about wages,-nobody knows windows all round; and no complete ceilings how or by whom. The weavers declared it shut off the air between this chamber and was not their doing; but their enmity to the rooms of two stories below. In clear steam power was strong enough to restrain weather, there is a fine view from this pinnathe employers from the use of it. It was not cle, extending from the house, gardens, and till every body saw that Coventry was losing orchard of the Messrs. Hamerton below, over its manufacture, parting with it to places the spires of Coventry, to a wide range of which made ribbons by steam,-that the country beyond. manufacturers felt themselves able to do what must be done, if they were to save their trade. The state of things now is very significant. About seventy houses in Coventry make ribbons and trimmings, (fringes and the like.) Of these, four make fringes and trimmings, and no ribbons; and six or eight make both. Say that fifty-eight houses make rib-hot water, and make themselves comfortable bons alone. It is believed that three-fourths of the ribbons are made by no more than twenty houses out of these fifty-eight. There are now thirty steam powerloom factories in Coventry, producing about seven thousand pieces of ribbons in the week, and employing about three thousand persons. It seems not to be ascertained how large a proportion of the population are employed in the ribbon manufacture: but the increase is great since the year 1838, when the number was about eight thousand, without reckoning the outlying places, which would add about three thousand to the number. The total population of the city was found, last March, to amount to nearly thirty-seven thousand. So, if we reckon the numbers employed in connection with the throwing-mills and dyehouses, we shall see what an ascendency the ribbon manufacture has in Coventry.

At the factory we are entering, the preparatory processes are going forward at the top and the bottom of the building. In the yard is the boiler fire, which sets the engine to work; and, from the same yard, we enter workshops, where the machinery is made and repaired. The ponderous work of the men at the forge and anvils contrasts curiously with the delicacy of the fabric which is to be produced by the agency of these masses of

Descending from the long room, where the winding is going on, we find ourselves in an apartment which it does one good to be in. It is furnished with long narrow tables, and benches put there for the sake of the workpeople, who may like to have their tea at the factory, in peace and quiet. They can have

here. Against the door hangs a list of books, read, or to be read, by the people: and a very good list it is. Prints, from Raffaelle's Bible, plainly framed, are on the walls. In the middle of the room, on, and beside, a table, are four men and boys, preparing the "strapping" of a Jacquard loom for work. The cords, so called, are woven at Shrewsbury. We next enter a room where a young man is engaged in the magical work of "reading in from the draught." The draught is the pattern of the intended ribbon, drawn and painted upon diced paper,-like the patterns for carpets that we saw at Kendal, but a good deal larger, though the article to be produced here is so much smaller. The young man sits, as at a loom. Before him hangs the mass of cords he is to tie into pattern, close before his face, like the curtain of a cabinet piano. Upreared before his eyes is his pattern, supported by a slip of wood. He brings the line he has to "read in" to the edge of this wood, and then, with nimble fingers, separates the cords, by threes, by sevens, by fives, by twelves, according to the pattern, and threads through them the string which is to tie them apart. The skill and speed with which he feels out his cords, while his eyes are fixed on his pattern, appear very remarkable; but when we come to consider, it is not so complicated a

process as playing at sight on the piano. The reader has to deal thus with one chapter, or series, or movement, of his pattern. A da capo ensues: in other words, the Jacquard cards are tied together, to begin again; and there is a revolution of the cards, and a repetition of the pattern, till the piece of ribbon is finished. In the same apartment is the press in which the Jacquard cards are prepared; just in the way which may be seen wherever silk or carpet weaving, with Jacquard looms, goes forward.

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.

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 We have spent so much time among the large scale, always gives. Looking down up-looms, that it is growing dusk in their shadon the details, there is plenty of beauty. The ows, though still light enough in the counting light glances upon the glossy colored silks, house for us to look over the pattern-book, depending, like a veil, from the backs of the and admire a great many patterns, most, till looms, where women and girls are busy pierc- we see more. Young women are weighing ing the imperfect threads with nimble fin- ribbons in large scales; and a man is measurgers. There seems to be plenty for one per- ing off some pieces, by reeling. He cuts off son to do; for there are thirteen broad rib-remnants, which he casts into a basket, where bons, or a greater number of narrow ones, they look so pretty that, lest we should be woven at once, in a single loom; yet it may conscious of any shop-lifting propensities, we sometimes be seen that one person can attend turn away. There is a glare now through the fronts, and another the backs of two the window which separates us from the noisy looms. In the front we see the thirteen rib-weaving room. The gas is lighted, and we bons getting made. Usually, they are of the step in again, just to see the effect. It is really same pattern, in different colors. The shut- very fine. The flare of the separate jets is tles, with their gay little spools, fly to and fro, lost behind the screens of silken threads, and the pattern grows, as of its own will. which veil the backs of the looms, while the Below is a barrel, on which the woven rib-yellow light touches the beams, and gushes bon is wound. Slowly revolving, it winds off the fabric as it is finished, leaving the shuttles above room to ply their work.

up to the high ceiling in a thousand caprices. Surely the ribbon manufacture is one of the prettiest that we have to show.

The variety of ribbons is very great, though If the Coventry people were asked whether in this factory we saw no gauzes, nor, at the their chief manufacture was in a flourishing time of our visit, any of the extremely rich state, the most opposite answers would proribbons which made such a show at the Ex-bably be given by different parties equally hibition. Some had an elegant and compli- concerned. Some exult, and some complain, cated 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.

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 increas ed 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 some- by the English writer of the book before us, where else. The consequences of this devo- her elegant simplicity of style, her thorough tion of whole households to one business, are mastery of the subject, enable us to pass from as bad here as among the Nottingham lace- Life to Letters, and from Letters back to Life, makers, or the Leicester hosiers. Not only without any sense but of a perfect harmony is there the misery before them of the whole between both. The two volumes are of a family being adrift at once, when bad times | kind that can be read through from the become, but they are doing their utmost to bring ginning to the end with unremitting pleasure. on those bad times. Great as is the demand, We strongly suspect that Niebuhr, at the age the production has, thus far, much exceeded of twelve, would have bewildered with his it. The soundest capitalists may be heard knowledge some few of our university procomplaining that theirs is a losing trade. Less fessors. Here is part of a sketch, representsubstantial capitalists have been obliged to ing him when he was not very far removed get rid of some of their stock at any price from long clothes: 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.

"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 tried to render it all intelligible to him, and even what an impression it made upon him. Then I 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. seldom praise him, but just quietly tell him where he has made any mistake, and he avoids the fault

for the future.

We

The child's character early exhibited a rare union of the faculty of poetical insight with that of accurate practical observation. The amusetion of this. During the periods of his confinements he contrived for himself afford an illustra

BARTHOLD NIEBUHR, THE HISTORIAN.* TIEBUHR was born pre-eminently gifted, was trained by intellectual and tender ment to the house, before he was old enough to parents, and his whole career is one story of have any paper given him, he covered with his the progress made by a mind which united writings and drawings the margins of the leaves extraordinary powers with untiring industry. of several copies of Forskaal's works, which were But Niebuhr was not only born to achieve used in the house as waste paper. Then he made greatness. He achieved love and friendship copy books for himself, in which he wrote essays, in every relation of his life, he was a high- mostly on political subjects. He had an imagiminded and in the purest sense of the word nary empire called Low-England, of which he an earnest man. In intellect he was a giant drew maps, and he promulgated laws, waged among us; but in him the intellect was not a wars, and made treaties of peace there. His father statue raised above the moral life, on which was pleased that he should occupy himself with it trod as on a pedestal, a block of mere stone- amusements of this kind, and his sister took an mason's work; his heart had not been used active part in them. There still exist among his up in the making of his brains, or his soul papers many of his childish productions; among cleared out a sacrifice to make room for a others, translations and interpretations of passanew stock of understanding. We may yield from the classics, sketches of little poems, a transges of the New Testament, poetical paraphrases our minds up to admire Niebuhr unreserved-lation of Poncet's Travels in Ethiopia, an historily, 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 The Life and Letters of Barthold George Niebuhr; with Essays on his Character and Influence, by the Cheva

lier Bunsen and Professors Brandis and Loebell. Two volumes. Chapman & Hall.

cal 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: