Majesty could want with ribbon of such a
colour and quality, we were set at ease by
finding that it was not for ladies, but horses.
It was to dress the heads of the royal horses.
There were bride-like, white-figured ribbons,
and narrow flimsey black ones, fit for the wear
of the poor widow who strives to get together
some mourning for Sundays. There were
checked ribbons, of all colours and all sizes in
the check. There were stripes of all varieties
of width and hue. There were diced ribbons,
and speckled, and frosted. There were edges
which may introduce a beautiful harmony of
colouring;—as primrose with a lilac edge;—
green with a purple edge; rose-colour and
brown; puce and amber; and so on. The
loops of pearl or shell edges are given by the
silk being passed round horse-hairs, which are
drawn out when the thing is done. There are
belts,—double ribbons,—which have other
material than silk in them; and there are a
good many which are plain at one edge, and
ornamented at the other. These are for
trimming dresses. One reason why there are
so few gauzes, is that the French beat us
there. They grow the kind of silk that is
best for that fabric: and labour is cheap with
them; so that any work in which labour
bears a large proportion to the material, is
particularly suitable for them.

We have spent so much time among the
looms, that it is growing dusk in their
shadows, though still light enough in the
counting-house for us to look over the pattern-
book, and admire a great many patterns,
most, till we see more. Young women are
weighing ribbons in large scales; and a man
is measuring off some pieces, by reeling. He
cuts off remnants, which he casts into a basket,
where they look so pretty that, lest we should
be conscious of any shop-lifting propensities,
we turn away. There is a glare now through
the window which separates us from the noisy
weaving room. The gas is lighted, and we
step in again, just to see the effect. It is
really very fine. The flare of the separate
jets is lost behind the screens of silken threads,
which veil the backs of the looms, while the
yellow light touches the beams, and gushes
up to the high ceiling in a thousand caprices.
Surely the ribbon manufacture is one of the
prettiest that we have to show.

If the Coventry people were asked whether
their chief manufacture was in a flourishing
state, the most opposite answers would
probably be given by different parties equally
concerned. Some exult, and some complain,
at this present time. As far as we can make
out, the state of things is this. From the low
price of provisions, multitudes have something
more to spare from their weekly wages than
formerly, for the purchase of finery: and the
demand for cheap ribbons has increased
wonderfully. As always happens when any
manufacture is prosperous, the operatives engage
their whole families in it. We may see the
father weaving; his wife, on the verge of her
confinement, winding in another room, or,
perhaps, standing behind a loom, piecing the
whole day long. The little girls fill the spools;
the boys are weaving somewhere else. The
consequences of this devotion of whole households
to one business, are as bad here as
among the Nottingham lace-makers, or the
Leicester hosiers. Not only is there the
misery before them of the whole family being
adrift at once, when bad times come, but they
are doing their utmost to bring on those bad
times. Great as is the demand, the production
has, thus far, much exceeded it. The
soundest capitalists may be heard complaining
that theirs is a losing trade. Less substantial
capitalists have been obliged to get rid of
some of their stock at any price they could
obtain: and those ribbons, sold at a loss,
intercept the sales of the fair-dealing manufacturer.
This cannot go on. Prosperous as the
working-classes of Coventry have been, for a
considerable time, a season of adversity must
be within ken, if the capitalists find the trade
a bad one for them. We find the case strongly
stated, and supported by facts, in a tract on
the Census of Coventry, which has lately been
published there. It might save a repetition
of the misery which the Coventry people
brought upon themselves formerly—by their
tenacity about protective duties, and their
opposition to steam power—if they would,
before it is too late, ponder the facts of their
case, and strive, every man in his way, to yield
respect to the natural demand for the great
commodity of his city; and to take care that
the men of Coventry shall be fit for something
else than weaving ribbons.

CONTINENTAL WAYS AND MEANS.

ALTHOUGH it is neither our wish nor object to
encourage absenteeism, yet there are so many
valid reasons for at least an occasional
residence abroad, that a few words on the subject
of continental economics may not be without
interest to some readers. The great cities
and towns of Europe have become almost
household words to English ears; and we are
all of us now as familiar with Paris, Brussels,
and the Rhine, as our fathers were with
Holborn and Hackney. Still, there is a wide
difference between travel and residence. The
impressions of a land seen from the hotel
window, and with the commentaries of the
"commissionnaire,'' are so very unlike those
gathered from actual domestication, that some
hints as to "where to dine" and "what from"
may not be altogether valueless.

First of all, as to climate. It is a grand
mistake to believe that any of our neighbours
are much better off than ourselves in that
respect. If they be, it is more in the fact
that the order of the seasons is more regular,
and that the particular character of the time
has fewer variations than in England. So
much is this the case, that we appreciate
perfectly the distinction a foreigner once made