eing rowed forcibly into collision. We are not
much of water-birds, but when we do undertake boating, we engage in the
work like Algerine pirates. We must have a red sash round the waist or
not a man of us will pull a stroke.

To go back to our homes and to our wives. When we do marry, we prefer a
wife who can support herself by her own labour. If we have children, it
is in our power to apply--and very many of us do apply--to the Bureau of
Nurses; and, soon after an infant's birth, it can be sent down into the
country at the monthly cost of about ten shillings and two pounds of lump
sugar. That prevents the child from hindering our work or pleasure; and,
as it is the interest of the nurse to protect the child for which she
receives payment, why should we disturb our consciences with qualm or
fear?

In Paris there are few factories; some that have existed were removed
into the provinces for the sole purpose of avoiding the dictation of the
workmen in the town. The Parisian fancy work employs a large number of
people who can work at their own homes. In this, and in the whole
industry of Paris, the division of labour is very great; but the fancy
work offers a good deal of scope for originality and taste, and the
workman of Paris is glad to furnish both. He will delight himself by
working night and day to execute a sudden order, to be equal to some
great occasion; but he cannot so well be depended upon when the work
falls again into its even, humdrum pace. On the whole, however, they who
receive good wages, and are trusted--as the men working for jewellers are
trusted--become raised by the responsibility of their position, shun the
wine-shop, live contented with the pleasures of their homes, dress with
neatness, and would die rather than betray the confidence reposed in
them. With all his faults and oddities, the workman of Paris is
essentially a thoroughly good fellow. The solitary work of tailors and
of shoemakers causes them of course to brood and think, and to turn out
of their body a great number of men who take a foremost place in all
political discussions. But the French workman always is a loser by
political disturbance. The crisis of eighteen hundred and forty-eight--a
workman's triumph--reduced the value of industry in Paris from sixty to
twenty-eight millions of pounds. Fifty-four men in every hundred were at
the same time thrown out of employ, or nearly two hundred thousand people
in all.

But t