places some established institution. Whether this innovating tendency be for good or for evil may be a theme of discussion for speculating metaphysicians; it is of far more importance to see that it exists, that it has increased, is increasing, and cannot be diminished. New institutions are rendered necessary; for the old are either shattered to pieces, or abandoned as useless lumber. There is, however, a manifest propensity towards forming institutions for themselves growing up among the manufacturing population, a necessary result from the levelling and equalizing tendency which we formerly noticed; but it is not easy to foresee how these processes of selfgovernment and self-adjustment will be reconciled with the esta blished forms of the country.

The religious condition of the factory population has not received the attention it merits: the results of the inquiries made by a casual visiter must naturally be very incomplete; but still there are a few important and unsuspected facts which seem to merit consideration. In every large community following special occupations a peculiar dialect is rapidly formed, which, though it does not constitute a new language, renders communication difficult between the operatives and those who are not acquainted with their phraseology. The clergymen of the established church, classically educated at the universities, use a refined language, which rises nearly as much above the standard of ordinary conversation as the operative dialect falls below it. Hence, in the great majority of instances the sermons in church are preached to the operatives in what is virtually an unknown tongue. Those who do not think about religion are, of course, insensible to the evil. There are many operatives who look upon it as sufficient to go to church; and to whom it is a matter of perfect indifference whether the service be performed in Hebrew, Sanscrit, or English: but there are many more who think seriously on the matter, and they desert the church for the conventicle, because they conclude that whatever they do not understand must be nonsense. The operatives are aware that their average of intelligence is superior to that of the agricultural population, and they are proud of their pre-eminence. The most natural result of this pride is a determination not to be led blindfold; a spirit of inquiry which, united to imperfect education, is exceedingly likely to produce scep ticism on the one hand, or enthusiasm on the other. The Church of England has not the machinery wanting to the working-population; it has no institution similar to the subdiaconate proposed by the Archbishop of Dublin, or the orders of preaching-friars in the Church of Rome; consequently, there is no system of mutual interpretation between the parson and his congregation, and they for the most part are not on speaking-terms, because they are ignorant of each other's language.

The progress of dissent among the operatives in the manufacturing districts is greatly favoured by another circumstance; the dissenting chapels are opened in the evening when the mills close, and they offer a place in which a working man can sit down, who has no home, or a very uncomfortable one. In these chapels the music is generally of a very high order; and out of Italy there is probably no spot on the surface of the globe so intensely musical as Manchester. Church-hours, on the contrary, are quite unsuited to the operatives; and the less that is said about church music on

week-days, or even on Sundays, the better. It is no part of our business to suggest remedies for this state of things; it is quite sufficient for us to show that some process of adjustment is requisite in order to accommodate the old institutions of the country to the new forms of society generated by the growth of manufactures.

It seems to be generally acknowledged that scepticism, or rather the rejection of any positive creed, is on the increase; and this has been very unwisely confounded with the spread of Socialism. We know from our own investigations that the great majority of those who frequent the social hall, visit it

"Not for the doctrine, but the music there."

The dupes of Socialism are so well aware of this fact, that they strenuously oppose lyceums, and similar institutions for providing secular instruction and innocent recreations for the people. Unfortunately they have been seconded in their opposition by those who profess to be most horrified at the progress of Socialism,-by the sanctimonious, the supercilious, and the monopolizing.

Chartism does not appear to flourish among the operatives so much as is generally supposed; it appears to have been a fire kindled from the smouldering embers of the trades' unions, and fanned into a flame by some who ought to have known that they would be the first consumed by a general conflagration. At the same time the combined pride of intelligence, and the feelings of equality generated by what we have described as the levelling-principle, render the operatives jealous of their exclusion from the elective franchise. The peace and prosperity of Hyde seem to be owing in no small degree to the fact that Mr. Ashton has made a great portion of his working people freeholders. The errors and delusions in religion and politics which are to be found among the operatives, seem mainly to arise from the want of sound instruction. The field was cleared for the growth of some new principles, and "while men slept the enemy sowed tares." The tares, however, are not a healthy crop; they do not suit the soil; and intelligent cultivators are alone wanting to produce a more beneficial harvest.

It will probably appear to our readers that much remains to be investigated before the moral and social condition of the manufacturing population can be properly understood by the country. The facts to which attention has been directed in this paper are sufficiently startling; but many more might be added which would confirm what has already been said, that new elements of society have been developed by the manufacturing system; that these elements have dislocated ancient order, and disturbed the working of ancient institutions; and that some process of adjustment must be devised to reconcile the old and the new, or else they will soon work themselves into a position of hostility which must peril the safety of both. We do not, however, disguise our opinion that such an adjustment will be a work of great nicety and difficulty; it is, above all others, a case in which the most careful inquiry should precede legislation.

THE HUNTSMAN'S WEDDING.

THE Squire, as he was invariably called by the country-folk, was lolling in an antique-fashioned chair, worked fancifully with figures and flowers, reading the County Advertiser, after a substantial breakfast, when the perusal of the account of his hounds' last dashing run was interrupted by the entrance of the huntsman, familiarly called 'Jumping Will,' looking peculiarly sheepish, otherwise bashful. He industriously stroked down the straight hair over his temples with one hand, and engaged the other with plucking a button from his waistcoat. A heightened colour had spread over his round cheeks, always rubicund from health; and altogether Jumping Will's appearance had fallen from its usual careless and knowing bearing. The Squire peeped over the top edge of the paper; and seeing his favourite servant standing, with a good-natured smile said, 'Take a chair, William-take a chair. All right in the stable?'

'Right as a trivet, sir,' laconically replied Will, occupying a seat. 'The kennel in proper trim?'

Even as bricks!'

Then I don't care for anything else,' replied the Squire.

'But I do, sir,' said Will, with emphasis upon the pronoun.

'You-You care for anything else but the kennel or stable !' 'Yes, I do, sir,' repeated Will.

'Ay-ay! A good cubbing season, I suppose.'

"That's all in good time, sir. But what I now want is your ap proval to my getting myself coupled with Nancy, the dairy-maid, sir.'

What, married, William ?' inquired the Squire, dropping the paper in surprise, and looking at the blushing Will.

'Buckled to, as a match pair, is our want, sir,' was the reply from the huntsman, who, drooping his head, felt-as he afterwards described it to Nancy,-' like a fox with his earth stopped, inclined to hide himself, but didn't know where.'

'You want to spoil yourself, spoil the hounds, and spoil the horses, eh, William? Who the devil is to ride the colts after you're married?' passionately asked the Squire.

'Me, of course, sir,' rejoined Will.

'You-you ride after being harnessed in the shafts of matrimony! Fudge! You'll not take a water-furrow.'

'But I will, though; and so I told Nancy. But, bless your soul, sir! she's the very gal to see a fellow brush a rasper. She boasts and brags of my riding to all the other maids in the house, and says she never would have had me but for the way I ride, and

And what?' said Will's master, as he hesitated to complete Nancy's reasons for having him.

'She says, the fine appearance I cut in the cap and pink,' replied the huntsman, looking hard at the Squire's face, after many attempts to raise his eyes from the carpet.

Will saw the burst of laughter about to issue from the Squire's inflated cheeks, and seeing the omen of the success of his suit, he slap

ped smartly his doe-skin smalls with his broad hand, and a simulta neous roar proceeded from the two, which rang merrily to the roof, and was echoed far away into hall and kitchen, parlour and pantry. The fellow-servants, with the fair subject of Will's adoration, were all assembled, in anxiety to learn the result of the mission, when the loud laugh informed them of the unquestionable success of it, and many were the salutes and presses of the hand Nancy received, with her bright hazel eyes filled with tears of joy, from the happy crowd, who anticipated the frolic they were sure to have at the wedding.

'I tell you this, William,' said the Squire, if you don't keep your promise, and ride up to my hounds as formerly, now, mark me, I'll discharge you. I'm not married; because I'm certain a wife spoils a man's riding. I did not expect you would get one until I did, at least. However, follow your inclination; but, at the same time you must follow my hounds in proper style, or somebody else will.'

'I'll do my duty. You have never had reason to complain; and you never shall, sir,' rejoined Will, with emotion.

'I never have, William,―never. You were a boy in my father's stable, and now you are his son's huntsman. During the time of your long service no ground for complaint has existed. My hounds have been hunted with proper spirit, and kept in perfect condition. I will have them continued thus,' firmly said the Squire.

'They shall, you may depend upon it,' replied Will.

'Well, William, I hope, and almost believe so; but a wife is a terrific cooler for fox-hunting.'

'May be for half-breds, sir; but not for regular out-an'-out blood and bone. Why, my mother was a daughter of the first whip to Lord Stanley's pack; and my father, you know, hunted the late Squire's for twenty-three years, sir. So I Do think from such a stock no muff should come,' rejoined Will, with a glow of pride mantling over his features at the reminiscence of his ancestral dignity.

'Give me your hand, William. There, I know you'll not disappoint me,' said the Squire, shaking the hand of his servant heartily. God bless you! Be kind to your wife, as you've been faithful and honest to me. Ride well up to the dogs, and leave the weddingfrolic to me. I'll prepare that myself."

Will tried to thank his master, but the words died upon his lips; and turning round, he hastily left the room, brushing the tears from his rough honest face as they coursed each other downwards. Upon joining the assembled servants and Nancy, Will related all that had passed between him and the Squire. Loud was the praise bestowed upon the latter by all; and when the delighted maid was congratu lated as 'Mrs. William Wisk, as was to be,'

"Then fresh tears

Stood on her cheeks; as doth the honey-dew
Upon a gathered lily."

It was a frosty day in the month of January. The well-heaped fire upon the hearth glowed fiercely, and crackled away, as log after log was added by an officious boy, whose duty generally was that of driving the cows to be milked, and otherwise attending upon them. His round cheeks bore shining marks of yellow soap, and he was dressed in his Sunday suit.

'I think that I ought to have gone to the church to see our Nance booked, though,' said he to himself. Every one's gone but me. That ain't fair. I'm left to keep up the fires. Well, then, never mind; here goes!" and another large log was thrown upon the blazing pile.

stuck upon the walls of the Servants' Hall'--and a fine centre of the ceiling.

A large quantity of holly and ivy was room-a spacious apartment called the large mistletoe was suspended from the Here they come!' exclaimed the boy, clapping his hands, and peering out of the window.

Along the gravel-drive to the house came the wedding-party from the village-church close by. The bride and William walked first, arm-in-arm; the former in an appropriate dress furnished by the Squire, and the latter in a new hunting-costume, complete, ornamented with a large white satin favour on his left breast. Next to them came the Squire and the Rector's daughter, who honoured the happy couple as bridesmaid. Then followed about forty gentlemen in scarlet coats, and their sporting equipments, who constantly rode with the Squire's hounds, and came to the marriage of Jumping Will,' thus dressed, as a compliment to their favourite leader of the chase. Bringing up the rear were the fellow domestics of Mrs. Wisk, and the invited guests, all decked in favours, and gaily dressed in their best apparel.

·

Across the huntsman's shoulders was slung a beautiful silver horn, a present from his master. His highly-polished top-boots were ornamented with a pair of spurs of the like material, given by 'the gentlemen of the hunt;' together with a whip elegantly ornamented, and a cap well lined with sovereigns. The motley group entered the servants' hall, and Mrs. Wisk was immediately seized by the cow-boy as she entered, and taken under the mistletoe. A loud hearty smack was accomplished upon the lips of the bride, before being aware of the intentions of the young gallant.

'There!' exclaimed he. 'I was determined to be first. Mr. Jumping Will, don't be jealous; I considered it my right.'

The Squire pinched the boy's ear, and with feigned anger, said, 'You young stoat! how dare you poach upon another's manor, eh ?' 'If you please, sir,' replied the boy, screwing up his face, and rising upon his toes as the Squire elevated the grasped organ, 'I had a promise of one from Nance herself on the wedding-day; and so I thought I'd be first and foremost.'

'Without respect to the rights of precedence,' rejoined his master, releasing his hold.

'None at all, sir,' replied the boy; but ignorant of the meaning of the sentence rejoined to.

A capacious bowl was brought into the room by the butler, whose strained arms and fingers proved that the weight of the burthen was anything but trifling. Its contents smoked, and to the ceiling a continued cloud issued of odoriferous steam, particularly pleasing to the olfactory nerves.

'Now, gentlemen, girls, and boys,' said the Squire, stirring up the hot liquid with a ladle, 'hold your glasses close; but don't touch a drop until I give the word.'

In due course of time the respective goblets were filled, and all obeyed the instructions given, excepting only the cow-boy; who,