It would be far from wise, too, to disregard such a pis-aller as Miss Merriton. Pis-aller! Twenty-five thousand pounds absolutely her own, and her brother looking as if a good sharp English spring might make an end of him? A very pretty pis-aller, indeed. It was all very well for his father to talk in that way, when he had set his heart on going in for the whole of the Lindisfarn property. But there was many a slip between that cup and the lip. Miss Merriton was a very charming little girl. He had a strong persuasion that he might have her for the asking; or at least that after a due period of service for such a pretty little Rachel, he might make sure of her. And it would be very unwise to throw such a chance to the winds before he was sure of something better.

It was in this frame of mind that Mr. Frederick locked up his desk, after sitting at it for a couple of hours; and slipped out of the bank to order his horse and ride up to the Chase. Mr. Falconer senior was very indulgent to his son and heir as to the amount of attendance he exacted from him at the bank, if only the hours spent away from it, were used advantageously in a social point of view; and he was especially well pleased at all times, and more particularly after the conversation of the night before, to know that his son was up at Lindisfarn Chase.

So Mr. Frederick had arrived there, still looking, as Lady Farnleigh had said, for all the world as if he had just been taken out of the bandbox, in which a London tailor had sent him down for the enlightenment and instruction of Sillshire, just as the ladies were about to sit down to luncheon.

END OF PART IV.

SONGS OF THE SUMMER NIGHTS.

I.

THE dreary wind of night is out,
Homeless and wandering slow;
O'er pallid seas it sweeps about,
O'er islands waste and low.

Grey ghosts of dead thought sail aghast,
Hither adown its tide:

It blows from out the helpless Past,
Where all dead things abide.

It brings no message unto me,
O'er wide moors billowing;
'Tis not a flowing wind, I see-
An ebbing, woesome thing.

Nay, come to me, sweet wind of night;
The death is but in me;

Blow on and on, with gentle might,

Till I awake and see.

II.

The west is broken into bars

Of orange, gold, and grey;

Gone is the sun, and come the stars,
And night infolds the day.

My boat glides on the gliding stream,
Whose flitting, flowing breast

Is lighted with one golden gleam,
The death-smile of the west.

The river flows: the sky is still;

It hath no ceaseless quest;

Sad hearts and eyes may flow and fill, To think of such a rest.

The stream flows on. The skies repose.
All night the star-beams play.

In clouds and gleams the river flows:
The sky is clear alway.

III.

I hear a lone bird, lost amid

The long luxurious grass;

The bats flit round me, born and hid
In twilight's wavering mass.

The fir-top floats, an airy isle,
High o'er the mossy ground;
Harmonious silence breathes the while,
In scent instead of sound.

The flaming rose glooms swarthy red;
The borage gleams more blue;
And starry white, about me spread,
Glimmers the rich dusk through.

Woo on, with odour wooing me,
Faint rose with fading core ;

For God's rose-thought, that blooms in thee,
Will bloom for evermore.

IV.

What art thou, gathering dusk and cool,

In slow gradation fine?

Death's lovely shadow, flickering full

Of eyes about to shine?

The weary day gone down below,
Thou leanest o'er his grave,
Revolving all the vanished show
The gracious splendour gave.
Thou art the woman, I will say,

Dark-browed, with luminous eyes,
Of whom is born the mighty Day,
That fights and saves and dies.

For action sleeps with sleeping light;
Calm thought awakes with thee:
Each soul becomes a summer night,
With stars that shine and see.

GEORGE MAC DONALD.

NEEDLEWORKERS v. SOCIETY.

FOR upwards of twenty years the griefs of needleworkers have been more or less before the public, and at intervals, various efforts have been made to ameliorate their condition. During the last few weeks, the death of a young dressmaker, attributed at least in some degree to overwork under unhealthy conditions, has again called forth a burst of indignation and sympathy. Murder, we are told, "is daily and nightly committed in our metropolis," and "such brutality is not only sanctioned, but encouraged, by the fairest, the wealthiest and the noblest in the land." Mothers and daughters, who "behold with delight those magnificent flowing garments in the ballroom," are adjured to "remember the shrouds of the poor victims who made them."

The Queen, it is said, "is omnipotent to rescue the young and tender creatures of her own sex from the galling tyranny at least of Court milliners." Another authority asserts that "the remedy must proceed from those who rule in the world of fashion.

This odious grinding system of overwork has grown to such a monstrous height, because ladies have never concerned themselves to inquire at what cost their wishes have been executed. . . . . It is in their power to prevent a repetition of these horrors, and a fearful responsibility will attach to them if they remain still."

On the other hand it has been asserted that employers and their customers are alike powerless, unless supported by legislative enactments, similar in principle to those already in force in other trades.

Amid this confusion and clamour, it may be useful to pass briefly under review the efforts already made, to inquire into the causes of comparative success or failure, and to ascertain, as far as may be, the most desirable course for future action. We propose taking the case of needleworkers generally, though some of our observations will more immediately apply to milliners and dressmakers.

So long ago as 1841 an inquiry was instituted as to the employment and treatment of dressmakers and milliners, and a large amount of evidence was collected from the heads of houses of business, medical men, and, not without difficulty, from the workers themselves. A state of things was revealed which shocked the most callous. One witness, a medical practitioner, who had been for twenty years in the habit of attending young persons in the dressmaking and millinery business, stated that he had had "ample opportunity of watching many of these cases for a long time the young persons so affected may leave off work for a period, they may go into the country to their friends, but they never

The

regain their health. Has known several who have married; has attended them for years, and has seen them labouring under various nervous and other affections; their health and strength are gone. young dressmakers who are subject to these long hours, suffer invariably from palpitation of the heart and indigestion; they are completely disorganised. Has known numbers of young healthy women who in this way have been reduced to a permanent state of debility. Many of them die, especially from consumption. . . . . Is convinced in no trade or manufactory whatever is the labour to be compared to that of the young dressmakers. No men work so long. It would be impossible for any animal to work so continuously with so little rest." Another medical witness states, that among those of his patients who are dressmakers, "the most common complaint is great constitutional weakness. Pulmonary affections threatening consumption, and frequently ending in that complaint, are most common. Has known many who have fallen victims to that disease. A most common affection is dyspepsia; indeed few who have been any length of time in the business escape this; loss of appetite, pain in the sides, headache, and extreme emaciation are almost universal." Another says:-"The individuals are marked by a pale face, a dull, lack-lustre eye, a careworn countenance." Dr. Hodgkin writes:-"My former connexion with the London Dispensary and with Guy's Hospital, where I saw many hundreds of out-patients, as well as the numerous gratis patients I used to see at my own residence, afforded me abundant opportunity of witnessing the very serious injury to health which the working milliners and dressmakers sustain from the iniquitous system to which they are subjected. I learnt from the most credible authority, that it is a frequent practice to confine them closely to work during the whole day, and for a considerable part of the night; that the intervals for meals are few and short, and that relaxation and exercise are out of the question. It was therefore no matter of surprise to me to find this class of persons exhibiting extreme cases of those distressing nervous, hysteric, and dyspeptic affections which the worst debilitating causes can induce amongst young females. Pulmonary consumption was of frequent occurrence." Individual cases of a very distressing nature were brought forward. the whole, it was elicited, that while in exceptional cases, the young persons employed as milliners and dressmakers were well treated and enjoying fairly good health, as a general rule the defective sanitary arrangements, and especially the extravagantly long hours of work, rendered chronic disease or debility almost universal and inevitable. Persons engaged in the work, either as managers or otherwise, were carefully interrogated as to the causes of the evil, and possible expedients for removing it. Most of the London witnesses attributed the overwork to excessive pressure of orders during the fashionable

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