measured tread of the student, and I heard the jingling of their heavy sabres, a peculiar clank a student's ear cannot be deceived in. I guessed at once the object of their coming, and grew sick at heart to think that the storm of men's stubborn passions, and the strife of their revengeful nature, should desecrate a peaceful little spot like this. I was about to turn back, disgusted at the thought, when I remembered I must return by the same path, and meet them-but even this I shrunk from. The footsteps came nearer and nearer, and I had barely time to move off the path, into the brushwood, and lead my pony after, when they turned the angle of the way. They who walked first, were muffled in their cloaks, whose high collars concealed their faces, but the caps, of many a gaudy colour, proclaimed them students. At a little distance behind, and with a slower step, came another party, among which I noticed one, who walked between two others, his head sunk on his bosom, and evidently overcome with emotions of deep sorrow. A movement of my horse, at this instant, attracted their attention towards the thicket-they stopped, and a voice called out my name. I looked round, and there stood Eisendecker before me. He was dressed in deep mourning, and looked pale and worn-his black beard and moustache deepening the haggard expression of features, to which the red borders of his eyelids, and his bloodless lips, gave an air of the deepest suffering. "Ah, my friend," said he, with a sad effort at a smile, "you are here quite apropos. I am going to fight Adolphe this morning." A fearful presentiment that such was the case, came over me the instant I saw him-but when he said so, a thrill ran through me, and I grew cold from head to foot. "I see you are sorry," said he tenderly, while he took my hand within both of his "but you would not blame me—indeed, you would not-if you knew all.” "What then was the cause of this quarrel-how came you to an open rupture?" He turned round, and as he did so, his face was purple, the blood suffused every feature, and his very eye-balls seemed like bursting with it he tried to speak, but I only heard a rushing noise, like a hoarsedrawn breath. "Be still, my dear Eisendecker," said I, "cannot this be settled otherwise than thus?" "No, no," said he, in the voice of indignant passion, I used to hear from him long before, "never." He waved his hand impatiently, as he spoke, and turned his head from me. At the same moment, one of his companions made a sign with his hand, towards me. "What!" whispered I, in horror-“a blow ?” A brief nod was the reply. Alas, from that minute all hope left me. Too well I knew the desperate alternative that awaited such an insult— reconciliation was no longer to be thought of. I asked no more, but followed the group, along the path towards the mill. In a little garden, as it was called-we should rather term it, a neatlychosen grass-plot-where some tables and benches were placed, under the shade of large chestnut trees, Adolphe von Mühry stood, surrounded by a number of his friends. He was dressed in his costume, as a member of the Russian club of the Landsmanschaft-a kind of uniform, of blue and white, with a silver braiding on the cuffs and collar-and looked handsomer than ever I saw him. The change his features had undergone, gave him an air of manliness and confidence, that greatly improved him-and his whole carriage indicated a degree of self-reliance, and energy, which became him perfectly. A faint blush coloured his cheek, as he saw me enter-and he lifted his cap straight above his head, and saluted me courteously, but with an evident effort to appear at ease before me. I returned. his salute mournfully-perhaps, reproachfully, too-for he turned away, and whispered something to a friend at his side. Although I had seen many duels with the sword, it was the first time I was present at an affair with pistols, in Germany-and I was no less surprised, than shocked, to perceive, that one of the party produced a dicebox and dice, and placed them on a table. Eisendecker all this time sat far apart from the rest, and with folded arms, and half-closed eyelids, seemed to wait in patience for the moment of being called on. "What are they throwing for, yonder ?" whispered I to a Saxon student near me. "For the shot, of course," said he; "not but that they might spare themselves the labour. Eisendecker must fire first; and as for who comes second after him "Is he so sure as that?" asked I in terror, for the fearful vision of blood would not leave my mind. "That is he; the fellow that can knock a bullet off a champagne bottle at five-and-twenty paces, may chance to hit a man at fifteen." "Mühry has it," cried out one of those at the table; and I heard the words repeated from mouth to mouth, till they reached Eisendecker, as he moved his cane listlessly to and fro in the mill-stream. "Remember Ludwig," said his friend, as he grasped his arm with a strong clasp; "remember what I told you." The other nodded carelessly, and merely said "Is all ready ?" "Stand here, Eisendecker," said Mühry's second, as he dropped a pebble in the grass. Mühry was already placed, and stood erect-his eyes steadily directed to his antagonist, who never once looked towards him, but kept his glance fixed straight in front. "You fire first, sir," said Mühry's friend; while I could mark that his voice trembled slightly at the words. "You may reserve your fire till I have counted twenty, after the word is given." As he spoke, he placed the pistol in Eisendecker's hand, and called out "Gentlemen, fall back, fall back-I am about to give the word. Herr Eisendecker, are you ready?" A nod was the reply. "Now," cried he, in a loud voice; and scarcely was the word uttered, when the discharge of the pistol was heard. So rapid, indeed, was the motion, that we never saw him lift his arm; nor could any one say what direction the ball had taken. “I knew it, I knew it," muttered Eisendecker's friend, in tones of agony. "All is over with him now." Before a minute elapsed, the word to fall back was again given, and I now beheld von Mühry standing with his pistol in hand, while a smile of cool, but determined malice sat on his features. While the second repeated the same words over to him, I turned to look at Eisendecker, but he evinced no apparent consciousness of what was going on about him; his eyes, as before, were bent on vacancy; his pale face, unmoved, showed no signs of passion. In an instant the fearful "now," rung out, and Mühry slowly raised his arm, and levelling his pistol steadily, stood with his eye bent on his victim. While the deep voice of the second slowly repeated one-two-three-four-never was any thing like the terrible suspense of that moment. It seemed as if the very seconds of human life were measuring out one by one. As the word "ten" dropped from his lips, I saw Mühry's hand shake. In his revengeful desire to kill his man, he had waited too long, and now he was growing nervous he let fall his arm to his side, and waited for a few seconds, then raising it again, he took a steady aim, and at the word, "nineteen," fired. A slight movement of Eisendecker's head at this instant brought his face full front; and the bullet, which would have transfixed his head, now merely passed along his cheek, tearing a rude flesh-wound as it went. A half cry broke from Mühry: I heard not the word, but the accent I shall never cease to remember. It was now Eisendecker's time; and as the blood streamed down his cheek, and fell in great drops upon his neck and shoulders, I saw his face assume the expression it used to wear in former days. A terrible smile lit up his dark features, and a gleam of passionate vengeance made his eye glow like that of a maniac. "I am ready; give the word," cried he in frantic impatience. But Mühry's second, fearful of giving way to such a moment of passion, hesitated; when Eisendecker again called out-" The word, sir, the word;" and the bystanders, indignant at the appearance of unfairness, repeated the cry. The crowd fell back, and the word was given. Eisendecker raised his weapon-poised it for a second in his hand-and then elevating it above his head, brought it gradually down, till, from the position where I stood, I could see that he aimed at his heart. His hand was now motionless, as if it were marble-while his eye, rivetted on his antagonist, seemed to fix on one small spot, as though his whole vengeance was to be glutted there. Never was suspense more dreadful, and I stood breathless, in the expectation of the fatal flash, when with a jerk of his arm he threw up the pistol and fired above his head; and then, with a heart-rending cry of "Mein bruder, mein bruder," rushed into Mühry's arms, and fell into a torrent of tears. The scene was indeed a trying one, and few could witness it unmoved. As for me, I turned away completely overcome; while my heart found vent in thankfulness that such a fearful beginning should end thus happily. "Yes," said Eisendecker, as we rode home together that evening, when, after a long silence, he spoke: "Yes, I had resolved to kill him; but when my finger was even on the trigger, I saw a look upon his features that reminded me of those earlier and happier days when we had but one home and one heart; and I felt as if I was about to become the murderer of my brother." Need I add that they were friends for ever after. Here, then, must I leave Göttingen and its Burschenchaft; and while I say, good-by-a long good-by-wish you, meanwhile, a happy Christmas. IRELAND SIXTY YEARS AGO. SECOND ARTICLE.* CIVIC PROCESSIONS RIDING THE FRANCHISES. THE greatest change wrought in any one body of our metropolis within the last century, has decidedly been in our city corporation. We speak not of the political alterations effected by "the act transferring corporate abuses to other hands," as some one justly calls the corporation reform bill; but of a change of manners as marked in the old corporation before its dissolution, as in its present successor-a change brought about, not by the operation of acts of parliament, but by the silent progress of time and alteration of public feeling, and evincing itself in the almost total discontinuance of display of civic ceremonies and civic processions. We have now no peregrinations of trades on their saints' days. The shoemakers no longer perambulate with king Crispin at their head; and the smiths will never again walk in company with a limping Vulcan; nor the fishmongers' corporation personate the twelve apostles. Even the very principal ceremony on which the boundaries of our civic liberties depended, is no longer observed; and though the Archbishop of Dublin were to depasture his horses on the Lord Mayor's garden; or the seneschal of St. Sepulchre's to execute an attachment under the very piazza of the post-office, the sturdy citizens will never again ride their franchises. The last miserable remnant of our corporate dignity is the Lord Mayor's annual procession, in his old glass coach, accompanied by a sorry troop of horse police; and the only merry-making that accompanies it, is an occasional upset of that terror of pawnbrokers, the city marshal, from his military charger. It is true, that sixty years ago, those things were beginning to decline, and had somewhat fallen from their ancient state. Still the remnant of them was then kept up, and in some matters adhered to with as much earnestness as ever. The principal civic ceremony which still continued within that period, with unabated splendour, was the triennial procession of the corporation, vulgarly called "riding the fringes." The great object of all civic corporations in their original constitution, was the protection of the rights and properties of the citizens against the usurpation of powerful neighbours, church and lay, and the stout upholding of the several immunities and privileges conferred by their different charters. The vigilance of the Dubliners, in ancient times, was principally to be exercised against their ecclesiastical neighbours of St. Mary's Abbey, Kilmainham, Thomas Court, and St. Sepulchre's, the latter being the liberty of the Archbishop of Dublin. Various were the disputes and feuds about their respective boundaries, and many are the charters and inquisitions defining them, which are still extant. To guard themselves from encroachment, the citizens from time immemorial perambulated the boundaries of their chartered district every third year, and this was termed riding their franchises, corrupted into "riding the fringes." In ancient times, when the ecclesiastics were a powerful body, this was a very necessary ceremony, and in some measure a dangerous service. The worthy citizens went forth "well horsed, armed, and in good array;" and so they are described, in an account of this ceremony, in 1488, still extant in the white book of Christ's Church. But when the power and possessions of their clerical neighbours passed away there was no one with the will orthe means of interfering with them. The citizens had long ceased to march out with a black standard before them"a great terror to the Irish enemies ;" and their military spirit having completely died away, the riding of the franchises became altogether a peaceful exhibition of civic pomp, consisting chiefly of the following emblematic personages, and display of craft. Every one of the twenty-five corporations was preceded by a large vehicle, drawn by the most splendid See page 744, vol. xxi. for June, 1843. horses that could be bought or borrowed; indeed all were eager to lend the best they had. On these carriages were borne the implements of the respective trades, at which the artizans worked as they advanced. The weavers fabricated ribbons of various gay colours, which were sent floating among the crowd. The printers struck off hand-bills, with songs and odes prepared for the occasion, which were also thrown about in the same manner. The smiths blew their bellows, hammered on their anvils, and forged various implements, and every corporation as it passed was seen in the exercise of its peculiar trade. They were accompanied by persons representing the various natures or personages of their craft, mixing together saints and demigods, as they hap pened to be sacred or profane. Thus, the shoemakers had a person representing St. Crispin, with his last; the brewers, St. Andrew, with his cross; but the smiths, though patronised by S. Loy, were accompanied by Vulcan and Venus-which last was the handsomest woman that could be procured for the occasion, and the most gaily attired. She was attended by a Cupid, who shot numerous darts, en passant, at the ladies who crowded the windows. The merchants, who exist under the patronage of the Trinity, could not without profanation attempt any personal representation; but they exhibited a huge shamrock, as the emblem furnished by St. Patrick himself, while they were also accompanied by a large ship on wheels navigated by real sailors. This The course of proceeding of this motley assembly was this: They drew up at the old Custom-house, and passing along Temple-bar and Fleetstreet, they came to the sea at Ringsend. They then proceeded to lowwater mark, when a trumpet was sounded, a water-bailiff advanced, and riding into the water, as far as he could, hurled a spear eastward. marked the eastern boundary of the city. They then crossed the Strand, and traversing the boundaries of the city and county, by Merrion, Bray road, Donnybrook, &c., came by Stephen's Green, to the division between the city and liberties. Then traversing Kevin's Port, Bolton-lane, Bride-street, Bull-alley, &c., they again emerged at Dolphin's barn, from whence they took a round by Stony Batter, Finglass, Glasnevin, and Clontarf, ending a little beyond Raheny. In the course of this peregrination, they passed through several houses, and threw down any fences that came in their way, particularly on the confines of the liberties. The liberties of Dublin, forming an elevated tract on the western side of the city, were so called from certain privileges and immunities conferred upon it. It contained formerly a population of forty thousand souls, who had obtained a high degree of opulence by the establishment of the silk and woollen manufacture among hem. After the revocation of the edict of Nantz, a number of industrious artizans of the reformed faith, driven from their own country, had taken refuge in this district, and brought the manufacture of silk and woollen to a high state of perfection. About sixty years ago there were three thousand four hundred looms in active employment; and in 1791, there were twelve hundred silk looms alone. This prosperity was liable to great fluctuations. Two years after, when war was declared with France, and the raw material was difficult to be procured, the poor artizans experienced great distress; but the breaking out of the insurrection in '98, in which many of them were engaged, entirely ruined them; so that at the time of the Union they were reduced to utter beggary. On all occasions of distress, they descended in masses from their elevated site to the lower parts of the town, and, as has been remarked, they resembled an irruption of some foreign hordea certain wildness of aspect, with pallid faces and squalid persons, seemed to mark at this time the poor artizans of the liberty as a separate class from the other inhabitants of Dublin. Of this famous and flourishing community nothing remains at the present day but large houses, with stone fronts and architectural ornaments, in ruins in remote and obscure streets; and a small branch of the poplin and tabinet manufacture, a fabric almost exclusively confined to them, and whose beauty and excellence, are well known. At the time of which we write, however, they exhibited their power on every public occasion, and during the perambulation of the Lord Mayor, they particularly signalized themselves. As they had manor courts and senes |