things, know them daily on the evidence of my senses and experience; when I know that the Ruffian never jostles a lady in the street, or knocks a hat off, but in order that the Thief may profit, is it surprising that I should require from those who are paid to know these things, prevention of them?

known at his Station, too, and is (or ought to be) known at Scotland Yard, too. But does he know, or does his Station know, or does Scotland Yard know, or does anybody know, why these fellows should be here at liberty, when, as reputed Thieves to whom a whole Division of Police could swear, they might all be under lock and key at hard labour? Not he; truly he would be a wise man if he did! He only knows that these are members of the "notorious gang," which, according to the newspaper Police-office reports of this last past September, "have so long infested" the awful solitudes of the Waterloo Road, and out of which almost impregnable fastnesses the Police have at length dragged Two, to the unspeakable admiration of all good civilians.

Look at this group at a street corner. Number one is a shirking fellow of five-andtwenty, in an ill-favoured and ill-savoured suit, his trousers of corduroy, his coat of some indiscernible ground-work for the deposition of grease, his neckerchief like an eel, his complexion like dirty dough, his mangy fur cap pulled low upon his beetle brows to hide the prison cut of his hair. His hands are in his pockets. He puts them there when they are idle, as naturally as in other people's The consequences of this contemplative habit pockets when they are busy, for he knows on the part of the Executive-a habit to be that they are not roughened by work, and looked for in a hermit, but not in a Police that they tell a tale. Hence, whenever he takes System-are familiar to us all. The Ruffian one out to draw a sleeve across his nose-which becomes one of the established orders of the is often, for he has weak eyes and a constitu- body politic. Under the playful name of Rough tional cold in his head-he restores it to its (as if he were merely a practical joker) his pocket immediately afterwards. Number two movements and successes are recorded on pubis a burly brute of five-and-thirty, in a tall lic occasions. Whether he mustered in large stiff hat; is a composite as to his clothes of numbers, or small; whether he was in good betting man and fighting man; is whiskered; spirits, or depressed; whether he turned his has a staring pin in his breast, along with his generous exertions to very prosperous account, right hand; has insolent and cruel eyes; large or Fortune was against him; whether he was shoulders; strong legs, booted and tipped for in a sanguinary mood, or robbed with amiable kicking. Number three is forty years of age; horse play and a gracious consideration for life is short, thick-set, strong, and bow-legged; and limb; all this is chronicled as if he were wears knee cords and white stockings, a very an Institution. Is there any city in Europe, long-sleeved waistcoat, a very large neck-out of England, in which these terms are held erchief doubled or trebled round his throat, and a crumpled white hat crowns his ghastly parchment face. This fellow looks like an executed postboy of other days, cut down from the gallows too soon, and restored and preserved by express diabolical agency. Numbers five, six, and seven, are hulking, idle, slouching young men, patched and shabby, too short in the sleeves and too tight in the legs, slimily clothed, foul-spoken, repulsive wretches inside and out. In all the party there obtains a certain twitching character of mouth and furtiveness of eye, that hints how the coward is lurking under the bully. The hint is quite correct, for they are a slinking sneaking set, far more prone to lie down on their backs and kick out, when in difficulty, than to make a stand for it. (This may account for the street mud on the backs of Numbers five, six, and seven, being much fresher than the stale splashes on their legs.)

These engaging gentry a Police-constable stands contemplating. His Station, with a Reserve of assistance, is very near at hand. They cannot pretend to any trade, not even to be porters or messengers. It would be idle if they did, for he knows them, and they know that he knows them, to be nothing but professed Thieves and Ruffians. He knows where they resort, knows by what slang names they call one another, knows how often they have been in prison, and how long, and for what. All this is

with the pests of Society? Or in which, at this day, such violent robberies from the person are constantly committed as in London?

The Preparatory Schools of Ruffianism are similarly borne with. The young Ruffians of London-not Thieves yet, but training for scholarships and fellowships in the Criminal Court Universities-molest quiet people and their property, to an extent that is hardly credible. The throwing of stones in the streets has become a dangerous and destructive offence, which surely could have got to no greater height though we had had no Police but our own riding whips and walking-sticks-the Police to which I myself appeal on these occasions. The throwing of stones at the windows of railway carriages in motion-an act of wanton wickedness with the very Arch-Fiend's hand in it-had become a crying evil, when the railway companies forced it on Police notice. Constabular contemplation had until then been the order of the day.

Within these twelve months, there arose among the young gentlemen of London aspiring to Ruffianism, and cultivating that much encouraged social art, a facetious cry of "I'll have this!" accompanied with a clutch at some article of a passing lady's dress. I have known a lady's veil to be thus humourously torn from her face and carried off in the open streets at noon; and I have had the honour of myself giving chase, on Westminster Bridge, to another

that sobered him and terrified him into departure.

In the year 1610, Champagne met with great approval (especially as the wine was given away-some people, like Sheridan, can take any given quantity) at the coronation of Louis the Thirteenth. Thenceforth it became the king, or the queen, of French wines. Champagne was crowned with Louis the Thirteenth, and of the two, Champagne made the better

monarch.

In the history of all success there is a period when malice, jealousy, and rivalry stand at bay, and bear down on their enemy for a last determined struggle. Champagne had to bear this final charge of the imperial guard of envy, hatred, and all uncharitableness. The French doctors of medicine began, in 1652, a discussion on the sanatory and injurious effects of Champagne, which never ended until 1778. Doctors were born, grew up, and died, and so did their patients; and still, while the world let the corks fly gaily, reckless of all consequences, the inexhaustible doctors went on shaking their periwigged heads, doubtful, very doubtful, whether Champagne did or did not injure the nerves and produce gout. At last a verdict was pronounced. Esculapius adopted the wine, and branded it as safe thenceforth for ever. It has been brandied since by non-Esculapians, but it has not become the safer for that. Then broke out its eulogists into a flood of praise. Venner declared that it excelled all wines, and ought to be reserved for himself and the peers and princes of France. Beaudius even declared it "vinum Dei."

Sillery, who has thus delightfully immortalised his name. The wine was long known as the wine de la Marechale, from the Marechale d'Estrées, who watched over its careful manufacture; but the marquis has long since ungallantly expelled the memory of la Marechale. Sillery is allowed to be the most spirituous and choice, besides being the strongest, most durable, and most wholesome, of the Champagne wines. It is unquestionably the highest manifestation of the divinity of Bacchus in all France. Ay scatters its vines down a calcareous declivity, open to the south, and casting green shadows of its clustering leaves on the waters of the Marne. The district extends from Bisseuil to the borders of the department of Aisne. The still and creaming Ay wines when made well, and in a good year, are supreme. The still, as usual with this class of wines, is the best. They are consumed in Paris and London, but not in America. Mareuil comes next, and Pierry, which produces a drier wine that keeps better than Ay. A slightly flinty taste marks Pierry. Then follow Dizy and Epernay, which are sometimes equal, sometimes inferior to, Ay. The Closet" wines of Epernay hold their own with those of Ay.

The second-class Champagnes comprise those of Hautvilliers (nine miles from Rheins); these Champagnes formerly ranked high, but have now degenerated, or are less carefully made. Then come the wines of Cramant, Avize, Oger, and Ménil, all near Epernay, and all made of white grapes, which are much used to give stability to the wines of Ay.

In the third-class come lesser sorts, Chouilly, Monthelon, Grauve, Mancy, and other vineyards near Rheims. The first two classes are bearable, the rest have no body unless mixed.

We all know a glass of good dry Champagne. It is indeed what Dr. Druitt sensibly calls "a true stimulant to mind and body, rapid, volatile, transitory, and harmless." It should The effervescing wines are seldom mixed. be firm and clear, says the doctor, with high None of the white wines can be mixed except grapy bouquet and flavour, which_survives with the growth of neighbouring districts, but the charming tide of effervescence. It should with the red they do anything. The best of the be lighter and sweeter than dry Sillery, and red is the Clos, or St. Thierry, which has a should have a slight pineapple aroma. It Burgundy and Champagne quality blended. should slightly cream on the surface, not froth; The mountain wines (little known in England), and should send up bright, clear, sparkling Verzy, Verzenay, and Mailly, are of good bubbles of carbonic acid gas. The inimitable quality. Bouzy has a particularly delicate flaaroma should leave an agreeable memory on the vour, and Mont-Sougeon will keep well for palate. In fact, it should be as unlike what forty years. generally get, as possible.

you

The grey wine is obtained by treading the grapes for a quarter of an hour before they go to press. For the pink they tread still longer, but the rose coloured Rheims wines (always inferior) are made by a tinge of very strong red wine, or by cream of tartar, and a liquor of elderberries manufactured at Fromes.

The Champagne vine grows in the departments of the Ardennes, the Marne, the Aube, and the Haute Marne. The best wine comes from the Marne-"the vineyards of the river," as they are called. This district the vinegrowers divide into four divisions-the river, the mountain of Rheims, the estate of St. Thierry, and the valleys of Norrois and Tar-year, but they will keep well for six or seven. The denois.

The best red wines are fit to use, the second

ordinary Champagnes are in perfection the third year of bottling. The best wines gain in delicacy for from ten to twenty years, and are often found good even at thirty and forty.

In the first-class of champagne stands Sillery, pale amber, with dry taste, rich body, and fine bouquet. The best is the Vin du Roi, grown in the vineyards of Verzenay and Mailly, which Good Champagne did not drop from the clouds stud the north-eastern slopes of a chain of hills nor flow from the rocks. It was produced by hard that separate the Marne from the Vesle. These labour, patient skill, and deep observation. In vineyards formerly belonged to the Marquis de ❘ the first place, the Champagne soil is special,

dred and thirty-eight thousand eight hundred and seventy acres of vines. The merchants of Paris and Meaux take nearly all the growth of the Epernay arondissement. In 1836 France consumed six hundred and twenty-six thousand bottles. The export was then reported_atEngland and East Indies, four hundred and sixty-seven thousand bottles; Germany, four hundred and seventy-nine thousand; America, four hundred thousand; Russia, two hundred and eighty thousand; and Sweden and Denmark, thirty thousand.

We have already shown that pink Champagne is a mistake, a mere poetical fancy. We must now repeat an old warning-the briskest and frothiest Champagne is never the best. The brisk wines are always defective in vinous quality; the small portion of alcohol they have, passes off in the froth, and the aroma with it. Humboldt proved this by collecting Champagne froth under a bell-glass, surrounded with ice. The alcohol instantly became condensed on the sides of the vessel.

The reason why Champagne sometimes plays old Gooseberry with us, is because it contains so much of young Gooseberry. Bad Champagne tastes of brown sugar-candy and brandy. For the French and Americans, the foreign wine doctors add one-fifth of wine and syrup; for the fiery Englishman, who will swallow any thing, one-tenth of brandy and syrup.

and cannot be imitated. The favoured vine grows on calcareous declivities where the chalk is mixed with flints. Every process of manufacture is conducted with a thoughtful care, of which Burgundy ought to be ashamed. Black grapes are used for the best white sparkling and foaming Champagnes. The fruit is picked at sunrise, while the dew is still glistening on the bunches and pearling on the crimson and yellowing leaves. The foggier the vintage weather, the better the fermentation goes. Black grapes are found to resist the frost and rains of vintage time, better than the white. They are picked with minute care and patience, almost one by one; every rotten or unripe berry, every berry frostbitten, bird - pecked, waspeaten, or bruised, is trodden under foot, as worse than useless. In gathering the fruit, in emptying the baskets, in carting them to the press, all rapid motion is avoided, and they are placed in the cool shade. They are then spread carefully on the press and crushed rapidly, but only for an hour. Each pressing has its own name and forms a specific quality. The precious juice is removed from the vats, early on the following day, and poured into sulphured puncheons. Soon after Christmas, the fermentation being over, on the first dry frosty day, the wine is racked; a month after, it is racked again and fined with isinglass; and before it is bottled it is again racked and fined. By the mouth of March, it is all in bottles, and six weeks afterThey also (the treacherous villains), use cawards it becomes brisk. The sediment that col-pillaire, Madeira, Kirsch, and strawberry syrup. lects in the neck of the horizontal bottles, has then to be removed by taking out the corks and adding fresh wine. This entails a great loss; in fact, an irritable Champagne wine merchant, would soon lose his senses, his loss is so perpetual. In July and August, the five hundred or six hundred thousand bottles that M. Moet stores in his limestone caverns at Epernay, fly and shatter by dozens, and the workmen have to go down with wire masks on, to try and stop the popular effervescence. The great brittle piles, six feet high, will sometimes burst and explode, whole hills of them, in a week: sending the Champagne in floods over the floors, or cascading their sounder brethren. Then, the closing the bottles by clinking them together and rejecting every one that has too long or too short a neck, or that has even a suspicious air bubble in its thin green walls, is also expensive. Costly, too, and dangerous is the mode of corking, by sharply striking the cork: the bottle at the time being placed on a stool covered with sheet lead.

From beginning to end, the manufacture of this wine is precarious and complicated, nor can we wonder that many respectable merchants at Rheims never sell it under three francs a bottle, however plentiful the vintage. It may well reach a high price before it comes on our tables.

Nay, the Americans have actually made Champagne from petroleum. As there is but one positively good vintage to six ordinary or bad vintages, it is necessary, the rascals of Rheims believe, to sugar-candy and brandy the acrid and weak wine that the sun has frowned upon, and in the language of the trade "bring it up to the mark." And here we have one answer to the question, What is a mock sun?

THE JUBILEE AT BONN.

IN August last, the University of Bonn celebrated the jubilee of its foundation. It was the close of the academical year, and all the living children of the university were called together to greet each other in honour of their common mother. From Berlin came the Crown Prince, and other personages of state who, like him, had studied at Bonn; from Ems, the King; and from every corner of Germany, innumerable representatives of bygone generations of students. From the more ancient universities of Germany, came the most distinguished of the professors, as deputations to greet their young sister of the Rhine.

The festival was to commence on Saturday, and continue until the following Wednesday. On Saturday, Bonn was full of visitors. Bonn An average Champagne vintage produces, is the very model of a university town. It Mr. Redding informs us, forty million nine is not an offshoot of the university; it has a hundred and sixty-eight thousand and thirty-being of its own, but subordinated to the wants three and three-quarters gallons, from one hun- of the great seat of learning to which at present