. I entered a moderate-sized room, shabbily fitted with a
few shelves and a deal counter, like a shop. Upon this counter, spread
out, were a number of large open books, the pages of each being
of different colour to the others. Each page contained a number
of printed forms, with blank spaces to be filled up in writing.
On applying to the clerk in attendance, I had to give my name and
address, which he wrote in two places on the blue page of one of the
books; he then took the money, tore out a ticket, some four inches by
three, and left a counterpart in the book. I was then shown to my
seat in the train, and on inspecting at my leisure the document I was
favoured with, I found that in consideration of a sum of money
therein mentioned, and in consideration further of my having impliedly
undertaken to comply with certain rules and regulations, the company
granted me a pass in a first-class carriage to Wolverhampton. I
returned to Birmingham by omnibus after dark the same evening,
and passing through the heart of the Black Country, made my first
acquaintance with that dingy region--its lurid light, its flashing
tongues of intercessant flame, and its clouds of stifling, sulphurous
smoke.

Such, rapidly sketched, were my impressions of the place which was
destined to become my future home. It is very different now. From
the large and populous, but ugly town of those days, it is rapidly
becoming as handsome as any town in England. Situated as it is,
locally, almost in the centre of the country, it is also a great
centre commercially, artistically, politically, and intellectually.
From the primitive town of that time, governed by constables and
bailiffs, it has become a vast metropolis, and may fairly boast of
having the most energetic, far-seeing, and intelligent Municipal
Council in the kingdom. Its voice is listened to respectfully in the
Senate. Its merchants are known and honoured in every country in
the world. Its manufactured products are necessities to nearly every
member of the vast human race; and it seems destined, at its present
rate of progress, to become, before many years, the second city of the
Empire.

THE BULL RING RIOTS, 1839.

On Sunday, the 14th of July, in the year 1839, I left Euston Square
by the night mail train. I had taken a ticket for Coventry, where I
intended to commence a business journey of a month's duration. It
was a hot and sultry night, and I was very glad when we arrived at
Wolv