TRIUMPH OF COMMON SENSE. THE newspapers give ample testimony that the cause of the Drapers' Association proceeds most prosperously. At the annual meeting on Wednesday, over which Mr Emerson Tennent, M.P., presided, the effects of peaceful, rational agitation for a laudable purpose were most happily exemplified. The praiseworthy efforts of the drapers to diminish the sum of unnecessary toil promise to extend their beneficial consequences over the whole surface of British industry, and the evidence afforded by many employers of high character as to the effects of shortening the hours of business, bring to the support of rational theory the conclusive, indisputable facts supplied by practical experience. It was clearly shown that those houses which had dispensed with the evening attendance, heretofore exacted, had nothing to regret; that those whom it had been their generous care to relieve had wisely occupied the leisure gained for them, by directing their attention to pursuits and recreations calculated to improve their minds, raise them in the social system, and benefit their employers. It had been unfeelingly urged that the time spared from business would be injuriously employed. Every advantage is capable of being abused by folly. The merciful and sublime Sabbatic institution itself, may by depraved minds be made the source of evil. Would the benevolent philosopher, therefore, propose that the relaxation of Sunday should be denied to the industrious classes of England, lest they should avail themselves of the sacred day of rest to plunge into grosser dissipation than they would otherwise know? Who at this time of day will have the heartless intrepidity to put forth such an argument? In this case we have no clique of infuriated operatives making war on their superiors. "If," say the assistants, "we cannot convince those whose interests are bound up with ours by appealing to their reason and their sense of justice, for the present we are content to withdraw from the struggle." And how is this answered by their employers? "Your claim," they reply, "is reasonable; we admit it, and will support you." This they do, not merely by encouraging words, but by generously subscribing to the funds of the association. Such being the case their ultimate triumph is certain, and both the superiors and the subordinates have acted with such prudence and kindly feeling, that their example cannot but have the happiest influence on others, and it is not too much to hope that an amelioration of the hard lot of many thousands unconnected with their body will be sensibly ameliorated through the energetic but prudent and temperate resistance they have offered to usages which had insensibly grown up to their annoyance. Of the glorious effects of consideration for those who toil, a happy instance is afforded in the following curious and interesting article, copied from the 'London Polytechnic Magazine,' descriptive of the silk manufactory of M. Stofella, at Rove. redo, by Herr Teschau. "This establishment has gained a high reputation, not only for the quality of the silks manufactured, but for the philanthropic system upon which it is conducted. Four hundred females are constantly employed, who are not only provided with their living, but every care is taken of their education. A young girl from eleven to fourteen years of age, in poverty, who can produce a certificate of good moral conduct and health, is apprenticed from four years and a half to six years and a hal under an indenture, stipulating that she shall during her apprenticeship be provided with board, lodging, clothing, and instruction in religion, as well as reading, writing, arithmetic, needle-work, and all the branches of the manufacture of silk. After the first six months every appren tice receives an annual salary of fifteen florins, which sum is placed in the savings bank of Roveredo. Those parents who are in very needy circumstances are permitted, after their daughter has been two years apprenticed, to draw an annual allowance. The proprietor himself deposits 500 florins in the bank every year for the purpose of being distributed in different awards to those whose industry and skill are found the most deserving at a public examination. In case of death the parents have a right to claim whatever funds the child may have in the bank. Upon the termination of the apprenticeship the girl is at liberty to return home, or stipulate for employment by the year (that being the shortest period for which any of them can be engaged), and receives an increase of payment according to her abilities. Those who during their apprenticeship have behaved well, and distinguished themselves, are provided at the end of their term with tools and furniture to commence business. Their occupation consists in the manufacture of all sorts of silks, and every week twenty-five of the number are alternately instructed in domestic affairs. Certain leisure hours are allowed for meals, lessons, and recreation, and when they walk out some of the teachers are appointed to accompany them. The whole establishment is conducted by Mr Stoffella, and consists of twenty superintendents; viz., one director, one vice-director, six teachers, and twelve overseers. A SCENE FROM THE REBELLION OF NINETY-EIGHT. THE affecting prayer for mercy of a poor misled gentleman who was implicated in the rebellion of 1798, lately appeared in the Mirror.' The appeal was in vain, and the unfortunate man suffered the last penalty of the law. We now give a nar rative of the severity exercised by the insurgents, when in power at Wexford, from Musgrave's Memoirs.' It will serve to inspire a lively horror of civil war. "On Monday morning, the 4th of June, a man of the name of Murphy was shot for having given information against rebels. His executioners were three Protestant prisoners, Charles Jackson, Jonas Gurley, and Kennet Matthewson. Edward Fraine, a man of some opulence, and who was supposed to gain 300l. a year as a tanner, was officer of the guard. When the executioners were brought into the yard Fraine addressed C. Jackson, and had the following conversation with him:-'Mr Jackson, I believe you know what we want of you.' He answered, 'Yes, I suppose I am to die.' He then fell upon his knees and begged that he might be allowed to go to see his wife and child. Fraine swore be should not, and informed him that a man was to die that evening at six o'clock, and that he did not know any more proper person to execute him than he, and the two others. He added that 'he supposed he could have no objection to the business.' Jackson replied, 'Sir, should I have no objection to commit murder?' Fraine said, 'You need not talk about murder if you make any objection you shall be put to death; but if you do your business properly, you may live two or three days longer; so I expect you will be ready this evening at six o'clock.' Another rebel captain insultingly addressed him in the following manner :— -If you could get a few orange ribbons to tie round your neck during the execution, it would, I think, have a pretty appearance.' The executioners were remanded to their cells, where they remained praying till six o'clock in the evening, when they were brought again into the gaol yard, where they found the prisoner Murphy surrounded by about a thousand armed rebels. : They proceeded to the place of execution, which was about a mile and a half off, at the other side of the bridge. The procession was in the following order :A large body of horsemen who formed a hollow square, a black flag, the drum and fifes; Murphy, the convict, marched next, followed by Jackson, with Gurley and Matthewson behind him. When the 'Dead March' was struck up and beat till they arrived at the spot where the victim was to fall a sacrifice to their fanatical ven geance; he was placed on his knees close to the river, and with his back to it. Previously to the execution the rebels knelt down and prayed for about five minutes. The rebels were ordered to form a semicircle with an opening towards the water. Charles Jackson asked permission to tie his cravat about the poor man's eyes; but they desired him not to be nice about such particulars as it would be his own case in a few minutes. When the muskets were called for, it was suggested that if they gave three at once to the executioners they might turn about and fire at them. It was then resolved that they should fire one at a time. Matthewson, the first person appointed to shoot, missed three times. They gave him another musket, with which he shot Murphy in the arm. Jackson was next called upon, and as they suspected that he would turn and fire on them, two men with cocked pistols, and two men with cavalry swords, were placed behind, who threatened him with instant death if he missed the mark. He fired, and the poor man instantly fell dead; after which Gurley was obliged to fire at the body while prostrate on the ground. It was then proposed that Jackson should wash his hands in his blood, but it was overruled, as some of the rebels said he had done his business well. A ring was then formed round the body, and a song in honour of the Irish republic was sung to the tune of God save the Queen.' "The dreadful business took up about three hours, after which the executioners were marched back to prison." ALGIERS AS IT IS IN THE HANDS OF THE FRENCH. BY CAPT. LUCAS. LETTER II. (For the Mirror.) SINCE the French formally took possession of Algiers, some twelve or thirteen years ago, it has been converted into a slaughterhouse for human beings. European cruelty has shed torrents of native blood, and the African climate has avenged the crimes perpetrated by the boastful and victorious invaders. It is worth while to compare the professions of the French when they first approached Algiers with their subsequent doings. Before the surrender, in 1830, the following proclamation was issued: "To the Coulouglis, sons of Turks and Arabians, residing in the territory of Algiers,-We, your friends, the French, are setting out for Algiers. We are going to drive from thence the Turks, your enemies and your tyrants, who torment and persecute you; who rob you of your property and the produce of your soil, and con stantly threaten your lives. We shall not take the town to remain masters of it: we swear it by our blood. If you join us-if you prove yourselves worthy of our protection-you shall reign there as formerly, independent masters of your native country. The French will treat you as they treated your dear brethren the Egyptians, who have not ceased to regret us for these thirty years that have elapsed since we left their country, and who moreover still send their children to France to learn reading, writing, and every useful occupation and art. We promise to respect your money, your goods, and your holy religion, for his majesty, the benefactor of our beloved country, protects every religion. If you do not trust our words and the strength of our arms, retire out of our way; but do not join the Turks, our enemies and yours. Remain peaceable, the French have no need of aid to beat and expel the Turks. The French are and will be your sincere friends; come to us, it will give us pleasure, and will be of advantage to you." Little regard was had to the promises thus made after the fall of the place. The claims of the natives to anything like independence were laughed to scorn, if not visited as a crime. Among the enormities committed, we have it on the authority of the Duke de Rovigo, that prisoners have been put to death without even the form of a trial. The particular murders referred to by the duke occurred in May, 1832; but according to some writers these form but a small portion of the sins against humanity and public law, for which the French have to answer. Not the least of the evils poured on the conquered country, is experienced from the vagabond and dissolute crew of settlers which they have brought there. This is the description supplied by a Frenchman, M, Aynard de la Tour du Pin: "Germans, Swiss, and French, agriculturists and artizans, have gone to the promised land of Algiers for profitable employment, but have found nothing but beggary, with the immorality that attends it; and depending upon public support, they have become incapable of honest labour. So that a wretched lazzaroni threaten to spring up from the families of hardy peasants who constituted the first emigration. But the new system has invited a far worse class of colonists than these to Algiers. They are the scum of the sea-ports of France and Spain, Italy and Greece. Men who have forgotten home, and who speak a jargon of all the languages in Europe; men who have tried all professions with equal want of reputation and success. Everywhere and in everything they have been unfortunate. Each has a story to tell of his griev ances and the wrongs he has suffered from his government. And they are all martyrs to liberty. But the fraud is so gross that when these men meet each other, they fairly laugh in each other's faces. Such is the higher class of society brought to Algiers. These are the men whom Europe sends to enlighten the poorer colonists, and to be an example to Africa. A third class follows, who will ruin the place; because conduct is as indispensable to success as capital. They are men who have been ruined over and over by their folly in all parts of the world. Speculators from England, from the United States of America, and from France, have flocked to Algiers, contributing nothing to its progress but their evil destiny; and they are most assuredly fated to repeat the failures which were the sole causes of their coming here. Their wretched activity is never satisfied, unless when adding to the sum of loss which has always distinguished their career. "These are the sort of inhabitants France has given to Algiers; and the result is only what might be expected from the acts of such agents.”—Revue Encyclopédique, Novembre, 1832, p. 360. The hills which surround Algiers are now surrounded with elegant villas, which are built like small castles. They are inhabited by consuls, merchants, and wealthy Arabs. At the time of the invasion, those who chose to remain were permitted to retain their property; but many, in the consternation that prevailed, fled, and their estates were seized and sold. The villas which have been mentioned are surrounded by groves, in which oranges, lemons, and almonds are seen in profusion. Of the 100,000 soldiers which France keeps in Algiers, 6,000 are said to die annually. Many have perished from fatigue and the effects of the climate. From 6,000 to 7,000 are generally in the hospital. Remittances of 20,000l. sterling are sent weekly from France by the steamers, which, however, is but a small portion of the whole expense. Provisions are necessarily imported, as the increased population has caused prices to rise enormously. Beef, for instance, is often twenty sous per pound, while at Tangiers and Tunis it costs but four. By many Algiers is considered to be a mill-stone about the neck of France. The war carried on is often a war of extermination; men, women, and children, houses, cattle, fruit, and corn are consigned to destruction wholesale. Great is the slaughter made of the French. Of an army of 10,000 men sent out from Algiers, it has often happened that not more than half that number have returned. The remainder are reported to have been left to keep possession of new conquests; but the truth is, they have fallen in the field. In their reports the number of those killed in battle is commonly reduced from 100 to half-adozen, and the loss they inflict on the enemy is swelled in proportion. It is generally understood that the French government take care to draft off the disaffected among the military to the new colony. Many convict soldiers are sent to Algiers. The dangerous courage and the criminal desperation in the land are thus abated and removed. This, perhaps, is as yet the only benefit France has derived from her triumph. The Mahometan religion still prevails among the Arabs; they entertain a belief that if they fall in battle the prophet will lift them by the tuft of hair on their heads to the seventh heaven. By cutting off the heads of the slain, the French found their companions were filled with terror, as they could not conceive how the body was to be lifted above the skies, if separated from the head. A savage parade of slaughter is made by the French; I have often seen horse soldiers come into the city displaying the bleeding heads of those they had slain in triumph; some horses have had not fewer than a dozen hanging to their sides by hooks forced through the jaws of the dead men. The Arabs retaliated by cutting off the heads of the French who fell into their power. One very barbarous custom has obtained among the French: all the wanderers they find within five or six miles of Algiers, who, driven from their homes, are seeking a scanty subsistence in the mountains, are seized and treated as slaves: they are generally heavily chained, three of them together being fastened by their legs, so that they can move but slowly and with difficulty. In this condition they are made to sweep the streets, and a driver is in constant attendance to stimulate them to exertion by the application of a thick whip when they are deficient in activity. This is a most afflicting spectacle. STORY OF BIANCA CAPELLO. SOME Florentine merchants had employed Pietro Buonaventuri, of a decent family in Florence, as their agent at Venice. The young man had an agreeable person, and he had the assurance to endeavour, under false pretences, to seduce the affections of Bianca Capello, a daughter of the illustrious family of Capello. His insinuations and artifices succeeded; he prevailed on her to quit her father's house- to throw herself into his arms, and to follow him to Florence: the step was fatal, and she was soon reduced to want and misery. From her education she was ignorant of every honest and industrious method of supporting herself, and to return to Venice was to be immured for life within the walls of a convent. Beautiful and artful, she determined to profit by her personal charms, and as she had sacrificed her honour she sold her beauty. After she had lived for some time the life of a wanton, a report of her attractions was accidentally made to the grand duke, by one of his courtiers, and he determined to see her. The moment was decisive both for Francesco and Bianca Capello. At the very first interview he became enamoured. His attachment was not even attempted to be concealed from Bianca's husband, and the three personages formed what the Italians called "il triangolo equilatero," the equilateral triangle. The grand duke liberally rewarded Pietro Buonaventuri for his complaisance, and the amour continued till Pietro's death. The grand duke soon afterwards became a widower, and, having some thoughts of a second marriage, with the hopes of a family, he thought it most prudent to put an end to his connexion with Bianca, and on the separation loaded her with presents and favours. But his attachment was too powerful to be conquered. Bianca had no sooner left him than she was recalled, and he conceived a more extraordinary project. "Of what use is it," he reasoned with himself, "to look into uncertain futurity for a son, the object of my wishes? Ă short ceremony, a priest, and a few Latin words will legitimate my son Antonio, and enable him to succeed me." With this resolution he sent for Bianca, and communicated his intentions to the government of Venice. That state, by the marriage of Caterina Cortona with the bastard Lusignan, had once appropriated to itself the kingdom of Cyprus and the island of Candia, and its ambition again revived. The senate thought by such an alliance with the grand duke it might reap some political advantages; and its leading members informed Francesco that they had adopted Bianca Capello as the daughter of St Mark. Francesco immediately married her, and from the caprice of fortune a courtezan became one of the first princesses of Italy. Their union was, however, an object of public ridicule, and Italy echoed with the song— "Il gran-duca di Toscana Bianca Capello was endued with a thousand seductive accomplishments; but devoid of honour and of virtue, she became every day more and more ambitious, and less scrupulous in the manner of gratifying her wishes. Despairing of being able to preserve her station and that of her son if Ferdinando and Pietro, the grand duke's brothers, survived him, and wishing to secure herself, she conceived the frightful scheme of removing the eldest by violent means. He was to pass by Poggio, the grand duke's country residence, in his way to Rome; but some whispers of what was in agitation had escaped, and Ferdinando was on his guard. An entertainment was prepared for him, and a favourite dish, of which he was earnestly pressed by Bianca to taste, from its having been expressly provided for him. Ferdinando pretended illness; and the grand duke, who was ignorant of Bianca's stratagem, but suspected his brother's reasons, to convince him of their injustice ate very heartily of the dish which had been poisoned for his brother. Bianca, rising up, observed the business was at an end, and in despair took the remainder of the poison. The grand duke expired in terrible convulsions the same night, on the 10th of October, 1587, and the criminal Bianca followed him in a few hours. HORRORS OF CELIBACY. THE melancholy fate of a Catholic priest who has made a vow of celibacy, but who becomes a lover, who wishes to be faithful to duty, but "Who has not yet forgot himself to stone," is powerfully depicted by Benedict Dalei, a German writer, in an autobiography. The young priest hears, amid the choir of singing voices, one voice which goes to his heart. He beholds the singer in her youthful beauty, and loves-she loves him. But-the vow! It has separated them for ever! He marries her at the altar to his mortal enemy. He baptizes her child. He sees her in her garden as he stands at his window, playing with a child which is not his. She comes to confession, and confesses her misery, and calls on him for help. What help? he himself is in despair. He preaches to his people of the blessings of domestic life, and bleeds inwardly; he buries the dead, and wishes that the corpse were his. He dreads madness or self-murder, yet, living to be old, draws this moving picture of Go, bury the wretch, ay, bury him living, PENITENTIAL PETITION OF JUDGE JEFFERIES TO KING WILLIAM. "THE Lord Chancellor's petition to his Highness the Prince of Orange, on his entrance into London, most humbly showeth "That your petitioner, who was once Lord High Chancellor of England, is now become the lowest of your suppliants; and from the first and chiefest counsellor of the throne, a miserable, dejected captive in the Tower. "I do not presume to justify my integrity; that would be an arrogance as black as my crimes. I confess I am as unworthy to live as I am unwilling to die; and therefore I prostrate myself at the footstool of your grace and clemency--that fountain of inexhausted goodness whose only mercy can flow upon so vile and notorious a delinquent. "To enumerate my crimes would be as numberless as the enemies I have created by them; nor will I presume to profane your sacred ears with so black a catalogue, whose precious minutes are more happily employed in the weightier affairs of the nation, the restoration of those laws and liberties which I, by my biassed and precipitate counsels, endeavoured to subvert. "What could be more pernicious and destructive to the fundamental laws of the nation than to establish a power in the monarch to dispense with them? "What greater inlet to Popery than to take off the test and penal laws? What deeper stroke to the Protestant church than to erect a court of ecclesiastical commission to pull down her pillars ? What sharper persecution of the prelates than by publishing an arbitrary declaration, for the non-obeying of which illegal warrant so many since have been treated as criminals in the Tower? Nor could there be a more irregular method than the late regulation of corporations for a free election of parliament. In all which, and many others (to my shame I must confess) I have been all along principal counsellor and instigator. "These, may it please your highness, are the crying crimes which, were they greater, it is in your power to mitigate by your intercession to parliament, having already the king's pardon. If you vouchsafe this to an humble suppliant, I will promise in some measure to make retaliation by discovering some arcana imperii, or intrigues of state, which I am capable of, which may highly concern your highness's interest in this kingdom." |