absorbed in the streams of people which
flowed from the church doors. One thing
was certain ; the people were not at work.
It struck me at once ; for I met them at
every turn in their clean faces and spruce
clothes—the veritable mechanic may be
known in every country—and there was the
happy look and the lounging gait in all,
which told that they had laid down their
implements of trade for that day and were
thoroughly at leisure. When I came to
be domiciled and fairly at work, I learned to
discriminate more clearly between many
apparently irreconcileable things ; and will
here roughly set down what we did, or did
not, on Sundays, in the emporium and outlet
of Northern Germany ; which, it will be well
to remember, is thoroughly Lutheran-Protestant
in its faith.

There was a church not far from our
workshop—I think the Jacobi-kirke—which had
the sweetest set of Dutch bells that ever rung
to measure, and these played at six o'clock in
the morning on every day in the week; but,
to our minds, they never played so beautiful a
melody as when they woke us on the Sunday
morning, to the delightful consciousness of
being able to listen to them awhile, through
the drowsy medium of our upper feather bed.
Once fairly roused, properly attired, and
breakfasted with the Herr, what did we
next? Sometimes we worked till midday,
but that was a rarity; for our ordinary day's
labour was thirteen hours, with scarcely a
blink of rest at meal-times, and often we had
not stirred from the house during the whole
week, but had worn out the monotonous
hours between bed and workboard. When,
however, orders pressed, we did work; but
this again was no new thing to me, for
I had done the same thing in London; had
toiled deep into the Saturday night, and had
been up again to work on the Sunday morning,
because some gentleman or lady who was
engaged, I dare say, in their morning devotions,
could not bide the ordinary time for their
trinkets. If we did work, which as I have
said was a rarity, our ordinary pay of two
shillings, scarcely twopence per hour, was
increased to three.

Sometimes we went to church; and we
always found a goodly congregation there.
The service was in good honest German ;
and the preacher—quaintly conspicuous to
an English eye by his velvet skull-cap,
and a wonderfully plaited frill which bristled
round his neck—was always earnest and
impressive, and often eloquent. Among
other religious services, I well remember
that of the Bres und Bet Tag, (Day of
Repentance and Prayer,) the anniversary
of the battle of Leipsic ; and a remarkable
sermon preached on St. Michael's Day, and
of which I bought a copy after the service of
a poor widow who stood at the church door.
If the weather were fine, we strolled along
the banks of the beautiful Alster, or made
short excursions into the country; and here?
again all was repose, for I recollect having?
once had pointed out to me as a matter of?
wonder a woman who was toiling in the field.
?Or, if the weather were stormy and wet, we
?stayed in the workshop and read, or made?
drawings, or worked in the manufacture of?
some favourite tool. Often, again, we had?
especial duties to perform on that day, in the
?shape of visiting some sick craftsman in the
hospital, to pay him his weekly allowance, or
convey him a book, or some little creature
comforts. The Sunday morning was an authorised
visiting time, and the hospital was usually
crowded—too crowded with patients, as we
thought—and each had his cluster of cheering
friends. Or we paid friendly visits to fellow
workmen, smoked quiet pipes, and told
travellers' stories, or listened to the uncertain
essays of our brethren of the Mannergesangverein
as they practised their part music.
There was one piece of business transacted
on the Sunday morning which may have
been sinful, although we did not view it in
that light. We paid our tailors' bills on the
Sunday morning if we had the money, or
ordered new garments if we had credit; and
I believe it is a practice more generally
prevalent even in England than gentlefolks
are apt to imagine.

We dined with the Herr at noon, and at
one o'clock were at liberty for the day. I
have seen a Danish harvest-home on a
Sunday afternoon in the pretty village of Altona;
watching its merry murmurs as they passed
by the old church-yard wall, where Klopstock
lies buried. I have attended a funeral as a
real mourner, followed by the mourning
professionals in the theatrical trappings with
which the custom of Hamburgh usually
adorns them. If we bent our steps, as we
sometimes did, through the Altona gate to
Hamburger Berg, we came upon a scene of
hubbub and animation which was something
between Clare Market on Saturday night,
and High Street, Greenwich, at fair time.
Stalls, booths, and baskets lined the way;
flowers, fruit, and pastry disputed possession
of the side-paths with sugar-plums, sticks and
tobacco-pipes; and, although Franconi's
Circus was not open yet, it gave every
promise of being so; and the air already rang
with voices of showmen, and the clangour of
instruments. In the summer there were gay
boats on the Alster, and nautical holiday-makers
were busy with oar and sail; while,
in the winter months, if the ice held well,
there was no end of skating and sledging;
and then we had a pleasant winter-garden
near the Tivoli, with orange-trees in tubs,
the mould so covered over as to form
extemporary tables, and the green leaves
and pale fruit shining above our heads.
At the upper end was a conservatory of
choice plants, which was more particularly
appropriated to the ladies and children. The
café pavilions on the Alster steamed odoriferously ;