around Merthyr-Tydvil. We allude to a strike. Those who have watched the state of Lancashire during the closing months of 1853, will have had ample means of appreciating the ruinous mischief produced by these senseless movements, whether among miners or among workers in factories. Merthyr has not been without its experience in the matter. It began the year 1853 in full work; it ended the year in full work; but during many intervening weeks it was a scene of cold furnaces, empty works, idle operatives, gloomy looks, angry words, unjust suspicions, exhausted savings, and stagnant trade. Thousands of men were wasting their strength and skill by doing nothing; tens of thousands of tons of iron remained unmade, for there were none to work them; iron-masters were making no profit, for the operatives were earning no wages; and shopkeepers were becoming embarrassed, for the townsmen had not wherewithal to pay for their usual weekly quantities of dress and food and other necessaries and comforts.

It is not for us to say who was to blame: we can only lament that any such interruption should occur in the industry of so valuable a district. Nor do we mean, by the use of the word senseless,' to imply that there is never any just cause for the proceedings adopted by workmen on these occasions. There may be provocations or failures of promise, which the rest of the world know little about; and it is only in those cases where the men place themselves in the hands of mischievous delegates and orators, and where they persist in remaining out of work until they and their families are nearly starving, that we would venture to use so strong a term. In respect to Merthyr-Tydvil, however, it appears that in the early part of July last, the colliers at one or more of the great ironworks struck for an advance of wages, there being some disagreement concerning former promises or implied engagements. The quantity of coal required for the daily smelting and refining and rolling of the iron being immense, many of the iron-workers were unavoidably thrown out of work by the mere absence of fuel. And there happened about the same time to be certain changes introduced in the mixture of ores thrown into the furnace; for as the Welsh, the English, and the Scotch iron ores all differ somewhat in quality, there may be advantages obtained by mixing two or more of the kinds together, to produce iron of a certain quality. Now the puddlers find that some of the iron is harder to work than others; they reasonably demanded a higher rate of pay for working the difficult than the facile iron; and certain disagreements arose on this point, which led to the strike of the puddlers as well as many others among the iron-workers. We mention these matters, but without pretending to understand the rights and the wrongs of each side of the question: indeed, it is very seldom that a third party can really place himself in such a position as to arrive at an equitable decision on the subject under discussion. In this case,

we find the singular circumstance of a lady, an earl's daughter, being the chief partner, and indeed almost the sole owner, of the largest ironworks in the world; and it is just possible that this anomalous position may have been accompanied by a want of practical knowledge of the workings of the trade generally. Be this as it may, however, sixteen out of eighteen furnaces were blown out of blast at Dowlais; and the other great ironworks of the district had their operations greatly disturbed though not wholly suspended. This state of things lasted several weeks, causing much distress. It was at length brought to an end in September, partly, we believe, through the good offices of the tradesmen and professional men of the town; and men had then time to lament that so much valuable time and strength and skill had been allowed to run to waste.

NINITIATED persons might consider Orlando Furioso-in English, Orlando Mada somewhat doubtful subject; yet on such a theme Ariosto constructed a poem which cost him the study of eleven years, and has survived not only the changes but the critics of three centuries. Regarding the number of pens that tried their strength or sharpness upon it in this interval, some idea may be formed from the fact, that the Orlando has had more than a thousand regular commentators, yet it continues to be the most popular epic of Italy. Even to the English reader it is valuable, as an epitome of that old romance literature which delighted and in some degree civilised the middle ages. Charlemagne and his paladins still stand as pillars of the tale. Saracens, giants, and enchanters, create or solve all the difficulties; while

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dames of peerless beauty, and knights of dauntless valour, claim the reader's interest through great exploits or grievous misadventures. There are also introduced passages of history that never happened, cities that had no existence, and very questionable geography: the popular beliefs or fancies of an earlier time. In Ariosto's age, which is known to historians as that of the revival of letters, all these had sunk to discredited tradition. Chivalry itself was going out of vogue; Cervantes was writing the sallies of his never-to-beforgotten Don; but wit, wisdom, and genius have conferred on the Orlando a share of their own immortality; and as many of our readers may not have found leisure or inclination for reading through its forty-six books, even in an English dress, we present them with this brief review, hoping that some may thereby be induced to seek a more intimate acquaintance with a great and famous poem. Strange to say, it is but the sequel of a far less celebrated work called Orlando Innamorata, or Orlando in Love, which was published by Bojardo, Count of Scandiano, in 1496, nineteen years before the first edition of the Furioso. This poem is now scarcely read; its author having possessed little talent except that of invention, but its outline is a necessary introduction to Ariosto.

Bojardo's tale sets forth that Charlemagne having proclaimed a tournament at Paris, to which all pagan as well as Christian knights were invited, Galaphron, king of Cathay, sent thither his son Argalia, equipped in a suit of enchanted armour, mounted on a steed of incomparable swiftness, and with a golden lance, whose touch was sufficient to unhorse the stoutest warrior. The prince was accompanied by his sister Angelica, the fairest dame on earth, who besides vest and mantle of wrought gold, was furnished with a ring which, when worn on the finger, revealed all enchantments, and when held in the mouth, rendered the person invisible. Four enormous giants attended the pair, and their business at Charlemagne's court was to lead captives to Cathay the paladins, or chief champions of France, allowed to be twelve in number by most orthodox romancers; the form of Argalia's challenge being that, whoever he vanquished in the lists should become his captive, and whoever conquered him should be blessed with the hand of Angelica. The charms of the lady, which made some impression on Charlemagne himself, fired the hearts of all the paladins, especially Orlando, the knight of Aglantes, and chosen hero of romance literature. His wisdom, his valour, and his generosity, are themes of which it never wearies; but Orlando was disappointed of his chance in combat by Ferrau, a Spanish knight, who slew Argalia by stratagem, whereon Angelica, with the help of her ring, fled back to Cathay. Orlando followed the fair fugitive; and although it does not appear the lady had any particular preference for him, she thought proper to give the paladin employment as her champion in the war which Agrican, king of Tatary, declared against the king of Cathay because Angelica had refused his addresses.

Agrican invited other nations to join his standard, and most of the French paladins came to the help of King Galaphron and his daughter, who were now besieged in the strong city of Albracca; but Rinaldo, Orlando's cousin, and likewise a paladin of immense note, fought for Angelica's enemies, from a most unchivalrous dislike to the lady, who was, nevertheless, deeply enamoured of him. The cause of this untoward state of things was, that on her homeward journey Angelica passed through the Forest of Ardens. In its deepest shadow there lay two fountains formed by Merlin the enchanter-one had the power of inspiring love, and the other disdain, in the breasts of all who drank. As the princess approached, she saw Rinaldo, who had lost his way in pursuit of her, fast asleep between the fountains. Silently she stooped and drank at one of them, unconscious of its power, for that was the fount of Love, and the knight's image went with her. When she was gone, Rinaldo awoke, and equally unaware, drank of the fount of Disdain; the effect of which was to send him with the king of Tatary, a volunteer knight, to take and destroy Albracca. The exploits which Orlando performed for his unsatisfactory mistress, amongst whose charms neither good faith nor good feeling could be reckoned, were such as to astonish the world. He overthrew giants; he broke enchantments; and at length finished the war by slaying King Agrican, when Angelica persuaded the knight to escort her back to France, ostensibly to become a Christian, and crown his long-tried services, but in reality that she might follow Rinaldo, who had returned to the court of Charlemagne. Once more her way lies through the Forest of Ardens, and she in turn drinks of the fountain of Disdain, which saves her further trouble regarding Rinaldo; but on her arrival at Charlemagne's campwhich had been formed in haste to oppose King Agramant of Africa, who, with an immense army, and thirty-two allied princes, had invaded France, to avenge the death of his father Troyano, slain in battle by the Christians-Rinaldo, who has in the meantime drank of the fountain of Love, challenges Orlando for the lady's sake, with all his former fervour; and lest his camp should be endangered by the strife of two such warriors, Charlemagne commands a postponement of their quarrel till the invaders are driven out, and commits Angelica to the care of Namus, the aged Duke of Bavaria.

Here Ariosto takes up the story, addressing himself chiefly to his patron, Cardinal Hippolito d'Este, whom he discovers to be descended from a youthful knight named Ruggiero, detained, according to Bojardo, by the magician Atlantes in his enchanted castle, on account of a prophecy, that victory should crown the banner under which he served, and himself should find a warrior's death. From this durance Ruggiero was with difficulty won by the emissaries of King Agramant; and his exploits, as well as the affection which springs up between him and Bradamant, the sister of Rinaldo, who, though the fairest of her house, had